The Fall

2013 began with a bang, not really. It actually began with a flood in the form of an overflowing septic tank on New Year’s Day.  Fortunately, it was a soapy flood because the wash was running.  Not a good sign for the year 2013.  The South Carolina traditional black-eyed peas, collards, and cornbread did not help to improve the year.

It continued…….

An entire bottle of opened bleach fell on a huge load of dark clothes, mostly jeans. 

A strange smell seeped through our vents – the smell of a dead possum that had to be removed.

“Mom, I fell at ballet practice and I heard something pop.” This is never a sentence you want to hear from your ballerina who is practicing for a spring performance. 

An unbearable, painful, middle of the night attack in my body paved the way to a four day stay in the hospital.

A shortened vacation was the result of the unplanned hospital visit.

One cool, crisp, beautiful fall morning, while attempting to take a picture of my stylish daughter, the unthinkable happened. I fell. No, I tripped. Who knew that one small step could cause so much damage? Fortunately, I landed in a lady-like sitting position, rather than sprawled out with my face in the ground.  

Excruciating pain and terrified screams began as I looked down and saw one swollen sprained left ankle while the swollen right angle was turned at a 70 degree angle. 

Back to the hospital.  I do not like hospitals.  I really do not like being the patient in the hospital.  I really, really do not like returning home and my children letting me know that I smell like the hospital. 

Surgery, pain medicines, a metal plate, six pins, one screw, thirty-four staples, a wheelchair, a walker, and four days later, I returned home.  Only, I wasn’t able to climb the stairs to take a shower to remove the hospital odors for several weeks.

Why me?  Lord, why me?

My world of mom’s taxi service, grocery store trips, trying new recipes, leading a homeschool co-op, Nutcracker preparation, entertaining at home, planning of Thanksgiving dinner, and decorating my house for Christmas came to a screeching halt.

The one, who is completely independent, never asks for help from others, and who can competently manage and control the lives of four children just lost all control and her independence. 

Why me?  Lord, why me?

Why not me? 

Could it be that God needed me in this position in order for me to discover just how much He loves me?  I feel guilty even asking that question.  He loves me so much that He sent His Son to die for my sins.  I understand that and I believe that with my entire heart.  Yet, every time I sin, I feel as if I failed Him.  Instead of living through His grace on a daily basis, I would live in guilt for disappointing Him.  I believed He loved me enough to pay for my sins, but I questioned why He continued to love me through my daily sins.  I had these unrealistic, unmet expectations of who I thought He wanted me to be.  In reality, those unrealistic expectations were my expectations of who I should be, not His. 

And so the journey began.  The journey that He allowed me to begin to show me just how much He loves me every day in spite of my unrealistic expectations of myself. 

Just how did He do this?  Through others. 

Before I even came home, meals were planned and lined up for the next month. Even on days when meals were not planned, someone showed up with a meal.  God shows His love to me through every single meal.

My first day home, a man, his son, and his best friend showed up with a wheelchair ramp and put it on my house so I can leave home easier.  God shows His love to me every time I leave the house.

An unexpected phone call reveals that someone has anonymously paid to have my home clean on a weekly basis. God shows His love to me on Fridays when the cleaning company shows up to clean my house. 

For the first month, I slept downstairs on a twin size bed in our family room while every night my husband slept on the couch beside me so that he would be there for me if I needed him.  God shows His love to me through my faithful husband while using this journey to strengthen our marriage.

My children help me in their own ways which fits their personalities.  One sat beside me and held my hand for three hours while I kept dreaming that I was falling. One is always there with a protective hand ready to get anything I need.  One takes on more responsibility than she should, but does it with grace and such a sweet spirit.  One entertains me with her stories, late night conversations, and lots of laughter.  God shows His love to me through each of my children.

My mom was at the Emergency Room waiting when we arrived. God loves me.

My lifelong best friend helped me take a bath at the hospital. God loves me.

Another friend organized and lined up meals in the exact perfectly organized way that I would have done it. God loves me.

My sweet friend showed up to wash my hair.  My first night home, there she was with my husband helping him and me.  God loves me.

My sweet friends show up with brunch and a sweet time of Bible study. God loves me.

Cards, phone calls, text message, facebook messages, flowers, and so much more.  God loves me.

Although some days are emotionally hard while others are physically hard, I can honestly say that I am thankful this trip down the steps happened. I am right where I need to be because God wanted to show me that He loves me every day, no matter what mistakes I make.  He died for me because He loves me.  I can live every day in His grace because He loves me.