Nicole Marie Hilton, January 17, 2022

The highlights of our stories are when we triumph after a fall. That’s why we’re here, after all: for those moments. Christ brings us victory over the Fall, but it’s the overcoming where the value is. Thank Goodness for the fall.
I got up off the floor for the first time by myself. Tears are streaming down my face, and I’m so happy and grateful to Heavenly Father for helping me to have the strength to actually WANT—desperately—with all my heart to do this. And I actually did it!
I need plenty of help to get through a day, and I’m grateful for it. But my privacy pays a price. This morning I was frustrated that my alone-time was being interrupted, again. I told my parents to leave me and “LET ME TRY to do it on my own!” So they left me in bed, with my wheelchair nearby.
Two minutes later, while trying to transfer out of my bed to the wheelchair…I fell down to the floor. There has been no way that I’ve ever successfully gotten back into bed or into my wheelchair without major help from at least one other person. Being paralyzed just above the navel, my body below my lower stomach muscles is just dead weight.
I tried everything—for thirty minutes I struggled and cried. I crawled around on the floor alternating from my belly to my butt—my legs flip flopping around behind and in front of me. I wrangled my legs together and tried lifting myself up onto the chair, the foot rest, the wheelchair, the bed. Nope. I could have called for help, but my little girl personality is growing up and wanted to do this by herself—and I wholeheartedly agreed.
What if my parents were to walk in RIGHT AFTER I had told them that I could be independent and to “TRUST me”…and then I was on the floor? This has happened at least three times before, and I had had it.
I prayed and prayed. I kept on reminding myself that—according to James B. Cox’s motivational talks—this was the “curriculum of the day”. After trying at least five different techniques, I crawled over to the side of my bed and tucked my legs behind me. Then, my alarm went off which was Lauren Daigle’s song: How Can It Be. By the words, “Though I fall, You can make me new / from this death, I will rise with You,” I gathered up all my strength and somehow got a handhold on the far side of my bed. Then I lifted myself at least ten inches off the floor. I was thinking: “I’m doing it! I can do it!” I flipped my legs over and lifted myself the remaining twenty inches, then bawled my head off as I flipped over and sat up straight on my bed.
My heart is full. I’ve got my self-respect back today.
And now I’m going to try to get to my wheelchair again.
Though I fall, you can make me new
From this death, I will rise with you
Oh, the grace reaching out for me, yeah
How can it be, how can it be?
Lauren Daigle, “How Can it Be”
I am so sorry but also inspired by your degree of faith in your very challenging situation. Thank you for sharing. This can apply to many similar struggles and the faith to overcome them. God Bless you. -a fellow survivor.
LikeLike
thank you for the blessing–thank you for reading and speaking up and leaving me a message. I’m sorry that you are a survivor too. Actually I’m on the fence about saying “sorry” for that anymore–so I just don’t know what to say! I AM thankful, however, that I don’t have to go through this alone–that there’s people like you who are reading and relating.
LikeLike
Am very sorry Nicole for all these.
Thank you for sharing. Continue trusting the Lord.
I am happy for you have faith in yourself.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you Enoch! Love you
LikeLike
Hi Nicole, I am grateful to be able to share on a small degree of your spiritual learning and growing.
This very painful “schooling” from mortal probation gets tougher to some chosen, very special spirits, such as you.
It pains me that you had to nearly break your body to perhaps get some degree of freedom from the curse that was spelled on you without your consent.
Father is all knowing, all understandsing, all love, and all healing. He is planning the best possible outcomes for you, both in this life and in the eternal one, from this path that you have premortaly chosen, to the amazement and reverence of all us your spiritual brothers and sisters. You familiar face, or voice or whatever else that I feel familiar, tells me that I knew you before, and had, in that primeval existence, bowed down in prayer with and for you, among spiritual tears.
Thank you for your priceless lessons of bravery, faith, testimony and pure love. I pray that you will succeed in casting off all your fears.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Wow. I’m speechless. Thank you for the gift of your words and our shared experience. I really am speechless and I feel bad because I want to say something totally amazing to you but all I have is love in my heart for you and hope–absolute HOPE in the future. Thank you again.
LikeLike
your comment–re-reading it and I’m crying now!
LikeLike