​Traveling in a wheelchair has it’s moments and once in a blue moon years of frustrations are redeemed.

Restrooms can be a test with only one handicapped space to 10 others. And in airports, in particular, women with luggage, love the extra room. Departing from SFO, preparing to pre-board for a flight with no wheelchair access to the restroom, it was no surprise to find the airport ladies’ room wheelchair stall occupied. As I parked my chair outside, the door flung open and a woman burst out. “I saw your chair and came out. I’ll use another.” Two strangers hugged in the restroom knowing that though we both had been inconvenienced

Love had won.

I love the feedback from people reading “His Majesty in Brokenness.”
Here’s a few samples of how readers are using my book:

• A mother with 3 disabled daughters adopted from an orphanage in Russian is using the book to help the 13 year old voice her pain
• Two couples are using the book as a daily devotional
• Several people have bought it for friends in crisis

​And I will be using it as a model in November for teaching others to write their own story.

What a joy to share my story at two Christian Women’s Clubs on the Oregon coast this past week. My second speech was over and my traveling companion, Ginny, and I were about ready to get into the car and head home. Suddenly a honking car pulled over to the curb and the driver jumped out. We recognized her from the luncheon.

“I’m wondering if you want a stepping stone for your garden,” she looked me in the eye as I sat there in my wheelchair. Her words caught me off guard: A stepping stone? How would footless Judy ever need one? My honest response caught her off guard, “God does love paradox, yes, I’d love a stepping stone.”

Her trunk contained five beautiful cement blocks she’d decorated. I chose the one with chips of broken blue and white English plates shaped in a star. Beauty out of brokenness. How perfectly her art fit the message I’d just given: Getting What’s Broken Fixed for a Lifetime.

The stepping stone found a home in my garden and in my heart providing a daily reminder that one day I’ll be able to use it when my heavenly body can not only step but skip and dance. Not today but soon now very soon we are going to meet the King. He sees His finished work long before we do.

What about You?

A wedding dress, Lord, but the man of my dreams hasn’t proposed yet. A sobriety badge, but I just joined Alcoholics Anonymous. A frame for that coveted college diploma, but I’m only a freshman. A size 12 birthday dress when my closet is bursting with 4X.

Lord, give us eyes to see what You see, but better yet give us eyes to see YOU!

​I believe in miracles. Even more so now that my first book is published.

This dream could have died a quiet death each time an editor rejected my book proposal. Yes, I’d crawl home after writing conferences in California, New Mexico and Oregon wondering why I paid for such torture. I remember early on waiting expectantly for certain praise as someone read my manuscript. Their response devastated me: “I suggest you take some writing classes.” UGH!

But I followed their advice and 20 years later I’m a published author. Hugging my finished work proves to me that miracles happen. Husband David, daughter Elizabeth and I shouted for JOY when we unwrapped the proof from Amazon’s Createspace self-publishing. Then 18 month old GRANDbaby, Brianna, sensing something monumental had happened, threw up her little arms and gave her own Alleluia for her granny. Truly a glory-filled moment.

My book proves to me there are no hopeless cases.
And I have enough hope to pass on to you too.