My Unbelievable Life Story
How I had faith, lost it, reclaimed it…and used it to propel me to even greater adventures
AKA: The Faith Effect
I had always been irrepressibly optimistic. I had always believed that bigger and better was possible (and it always was!). I had always believed I could do anything to which I set my mind and unrelenting efforts. I had always believed.
I am Faith, so how could I not?
My faith – in myself, in this good world, in grace, in hard work, in reward, in momentum, in action, action, action – had always served me well. Even from childhood, everything I touched, transformed. I tried hard, I worked hard, and I succeeded. At school, at athletics, even at business. As a teenager, I was an award-winning bodybuilder. By my mid-twenties I was a chiropractor with my own flourishing practice. In tandem with my medical talents, I grew my entrepreneurial skills and developed my practice into a 3,000 square foot office with thirteen staff including several doctors. I built and owned my own beautiful home. I was raising a beautiful baby girl – and I was a woman doing it all on my own, beautifully. Successfully. Faithfully.
I decided what I wanted, I made it happen, and no one and nothing ever got in my way.
Until that day.
And it wasn’t even that one day. It was years of days after that…
But let’s start with that catastrophic day in 2005.
My car was hit by another car. I saw it coming. The only way I could have avoided the collision was to swerve into the tiny sports car on my left or into the SUV carrying an entire family on my right.
I couldn’t do it.
So my car was hit, went into a spin, and threw me around violently even though I had my seat-belt on. Right before I was knocked unconscious, I thought, where is my purse? They’ll need my ID to identify my body.
I didn’t die. At least not that day. That came later.
But when I woke up in the ER it was to a new and unrecognizable reality. I was in overwhelming pain and very big trouble. I had five disc protrusions in my back and neck; my elbow was broken backwards; my eyes and face were so badly bruised I couldn’t open my eyes for three weeks; my chest was so badly impacted that my heart was contused; my wrists were so severely sprained that I couldn’t move them; and my right foot, right ankle, right knee and both hips were injured. I was having trouble breathing. I was having trouble believing.
But I muscled through by sheer force of will. As soon as I could walk, I was back at my practice.
Too soon, it turns out.
My heart wasn’t beating the way it should. Nothing was going as it should have, but this, at least, could be fixed with surgery. I’d need to take another 10 days off work, but the procedure would steady my heart.
I steeled my nerves. I asked my friends and family and communities and church members to pray for me. I believed. Things would get better. I would get better. I went in for surgery.
The surgery failed.
For the first time in my life, my faith failed me, too.
My cheerful, irrepressibly optimistic nurse bustled around my room, saying positive, uplifting faithful things. She trusted in God. She believed.
Something inside me finally died.
I snapped at her and her ludicrous faith.
All these terrible things had happened to me for no reason. My body was broken for no reason. My heart was broken for no reason. My previously-successful practice was now in peril for no reason. My ability to provide for my daughter was in jeopardy for no reason. Everything I’d worked so hard for, everything I’d willed into being, everything I’d achieved in my life was on the verge of collapse. For no reason.
There was no rhyme and reason. There was no God. I, Faith, lost my faith.
I don’t want to tell you about that night in the hospital. The dreams, the night terrors.
But I awoke truly woke.
I knew I needed my faith in this, my darkest hours.
Only my faith would get me out of this tunnel.
And a long, long, long tunnel it was.
I was still sick, still struggling. My injuries triggered the onset of fibromyalgia and a sleep disorder so I was exhausted all the time. I was in intense pain every minute that I was awake. My practice was falling apart. People I’d deeply trusted and supported betrayed me on all points of a scale that ranged from disloyalty to outright embezzlement. My engagement evaporated. My daughter lost her fit, happy and energetic mother.
But I held on to my faith: I would find answers. I would find healing. I would recover in every way – mentally, physically, financially – and rise even higher.
And I did. I found a doctor practicing a method that alleviates or resolves most fibro symptoms. I became a patient and then a Master Trainer of the technique, myself.
It changed everything, of course. As I healed and rejuvenated, I revamped and relocated my practice. I reached out to new markets. I spoke to audiences. I was invited into corporations. I was invited into the practices and trainings of luminaries and mentors. I was invited into the lives of people seeking ascension in all things. I was invited in.
And so I went wherever you needed me.
That accident nearly killed me. It nearly killed my practice, my finances and my tiny, precious family. It tried to kill my faith.
But that’s The Faith Effect: it only gets stronger, the more you need it and the harder you work it.
My experience with chronic, life-altering pain, fibromyalgia, sleep disorders and recovering from catastrophic injuries has made me a more comprehensive and skilled chiropractor, too. Whatever the issue my patient presented, I wouldn’t stop searching and trying until we found healing.
And now it’s time for me to take that healing, skill-building, momentum and action – of mind, health and business – out of the exam room and into the world.