It was the fall of my Junior year in college. I was twenty-one years old and working on a class project with my team when I suddenly developed a major headache, fell to my side, and began vomiting. My recollection is blurry but I’ve been told that I was rushed to the emergency room, where a stat scan of my brain revealed a pool of blood inside—I had suffered a stroke.  

I was paralyzed on my left side and unable to walk, sit, eat, go to the bathroom, or do any other daily activities without assistance. The doctor said I needed surgery to drill a hole and drain the blood inside my brain to survive, but the risks would also mean that I would need prolonged rehab. Instantly, my independence was snatched away and I had to depend on others.

However, what should have been a miserable season, turned into one of the most joyful times of my life. God intervened through the people He had placed around me, and almost daily, a visitor from my church or school arrived for sweet fellowship.
 
Matt Redman’s praise song played in my mind throughout my stay at the hospital.

I will offer up my life in spirit and truth
Pouring out the oil of love as my worship to You
In surrender, I must give my every part
Lord, receive the sacrifice of a broken heart

Being raised Japanese, the notion of burdening others was difficult to accept without feeling deep guilt or believing I was a failure. But God broke down my introverted walls and showed me that to follow Him, I needed to stop relying on myself. I needed to wholeheartedly trust God as my Lord and Savior–with “my every part.”

The real trial, however, began in the years that followed.  

Although I regained much of my mobility, I had to face the reality that 100% recovery wasn’t possible. I was constantly reminded of my limitations as new challenges emerged daily.  Strangers called me names for walking too slowly and scoffed at me for not being able to pass through revolving doors. I constantly tripped and fell while traveling on foot, and new problems developed as the healthier side of my body tried to compensate for the other.  

The residual weakness and deficits were no longer as visible to others, and I began wallowing in my self-pity—no one understood the pain that I was experiencing. I resented other people’s pity and rejected their help. I began reverting back to relying solely on myself and taking matters into my own hands. This pride and frustration began manifesting in various areas of my life.

But once again, God intervened. He humbled me through people who were in far more dire situations than me, whose health digressed instead of progressed, and others who did not survive. God also showed up in unexpected places like the subway, where once I saw a poster that read “Not All Disability is Visible.” I realized that many others were also struggling—not just me.

I would be lying if I said that the challenges and struggles are gone today, but God continues to mold me and transform my heart through these trials. There are still days when I feel broken, but I now know those are the times when God desperately yearns for me to come, trust, and surrender to Him with “my every part”—including my “broken heart.”