Four Sweet Things in the Hard
Thisis the third and final piece about the accident I suffered back in Mayresulting in two fractured risks. I’m moving on to other topics in the weeksahead. If you missed the earlier posts, just keep scrolling below. And therewere more than four sweet things, but I might wear you out talking about themall!!!
Wetried to manage post-surgery pain as best we could but still, things got out ofcontrol. I gave birth to a ten-pound baby, and managed a major surgery withacetaminophen, but this was still challenging. “There’ll be a lot of pain thefirst few days,” the discharge nurse had said. She did not overpromise. Onemorning around 5:30 a.m. when the pain reached a new height it was justbeginning to get light outside. I was praying, praising, and singing, becausethanksgiving proceeds the miracle, and I sure hoped for relief from this pain.
Sweetthing number one—Thecurtains on the big window in the bedroom where I was were not completelyclosed leaving a gap midway to the floor. A shadow moved across the yard, andthen a face appeared—a doe. She stood there a long time staring in at me. Ithought of Hagar who in her grief and pain said, “You are the God who sees me.”It seemed to me that God sent that doe to remind me that he saw me. This doewould hang around in our yard and weeks later, give birth to a little one.
Ithad taken two plates, eighteen screws, and forty-four stitches to put my wristsback together. In the grief process when somethinglike this happens, I sometimes felt anger, but I knew whenmany Biblical characters like Hagar found themselves in hard desert-like times, those timesproved to be pivotal. God wants to use these circumstances as a foundation for the work He has for us. I prayed that it would be true of me. Prior to the accident, I had alreadybeen asking God what my next chapter needed to be. Did I need to alter mydirection in any way? I was sure listening.
Sweetthing number two—AsI wrote in another post, for a few days after surgery, I was in a fog, but whenit began to lift, I accepted my neighbor and friend, Lilyan’s offer to comeover and read my Bible and devotions to me. I still couldn’t control my fingersenough to turn a page. On the first day, she read from Psalm 143, the nextreading in my read-through-the-Bible list. “The enemy pursues me, he crushes meto the ground.” It did feel as if the enemy had wanted to take me out in thisaccident, but God had intervened. And then in Psalm 145, she read, “The Lord istrustworthy in all he promises and faithful in all he does. The Lord upholdsall who fall and lifts up all who are bowed down.” The word seemed just for methat morning and brought with it so much encouragement. This was just oneexample of the times the Lord showed up as we met together to examine the wordof God. Sometimes it was even funny. One day, Lilyan turned to a devotion.“This one is entitled ‘Hardships.’ Do you want to skip it?”
Weboth laughed knowing the time for skipping anything had long passed. Themessage in that devotion of God’s love being constant despite difficulty and changeresonated deeply. That message continued in a Sunday School lesson we coveredabout the rebuilding of the temple and how the exile had nearly destroyed thelives of the Jews, but God returned them to their land, and it was interestingthe wording here, “Though life may shatter, God’s love never does.”
God’spresence was so real in our midst that I wanted to say, “Holy Spirit, are youcomfortable. Would you like coffee?” Here’s the thing, even in toughtimes, if we know God is with us and that He loves us, we can face it withgreater courage.
Inone moment in time, I was plunged into the world of disability, and even as atourist, because I had the hope of getting better, it was breathtaking. Theweeks I spent in that world have sensitized me to a way of life that not manyof us want to think about. I was living in a “I can’t imagine . . .” world,because I heard that phrase so many times. “I can’t imagine what it would belike to not have my hands.” I didn’t have to imagine anymore. I knew.
I’llnever look at another doorknob the same way as I have in the past. They wereimpossible for me to turn, and I had a fear of getting trapped in the house inthe event of a fire. The wrist is a complicated thing and for weeks aftersurgery, the wrists were immobilized to promote healing and maintain alignment.The twisting motion could disrupt that.
Sweetthing number three—Jerryspent hours swapping our twisting doorknobs to levers, so that I could exit anyroom or exterior doors with no issues. Such a blessing.
Butbeing in that situation sensitized me to how folks with permanent disabilitiessee the world and how limiting it can be if accessibility has not beenconsidered. I have a different perspective on how it makes one feel when we areblocked from the pathways that others use so easily. I am thankful for thosewho continue to lobby for accessibility for those who have disability. And as Isaid earlier, I don’t think I’ll ever enter a room without thinking aboutwhether the doorknob allows for those with disability to enter it as well.
Anotherunexpected thing that happened to me was that I felt shame over the accident. Iknow that it may be challenging to understand, but I did. I felt shame that mybones weren’t strong enough to withstand the accident. I later learned thatshame it is not uncommon for folks with disability to feel this way, and I would have neverbeen able to understand that if I had not passed this way. I also feltembarrassed that I couldn’t use my hands, that I was essentially helpless.
Sweetthing number four—Butreading Katherine Wolfe’s writing helped me. She points out that we are allhelpless, it’s just that when something like this happens to you, you know it.But we really walk around helpless all the time, because our lives are totally dependenton God. It was an opportunity to reconnect with that truth and ponder how muchmore dependent on God I need to be and realize that it is only “In him we moveand live and have our being.” If you don’t know Katherine’s writing, please,please check it out.
I’llstop here for now and move on to another topic next week. I am still in process and will keepwriting about my experience with this accident but share it in another way orat another time. Again, I pray that some of my ponderings will bringencouragement to you. I leave you with what has become my mantra, the apostlePaul’s words, “ . . we are knocked down, but we are not destroyed”(2Corinthians 4:9 NLT). Let those words carry you through whatever difficultchallenge you may face. Blessings, friends.
var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-24260977-1']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })();Beverly Varnado's most recent book is In Search of the Painted Bunting, a middle grade historical from Elk Lake Publishing, #1 in new releases in its category. She is also the author of several small town romances from Anaiah Press including her latest, A Season for Everything. All are available at Amazon. To explore the web version of One Ringing Bell, please visit bev-oneringingbell.blogspot.comTo sign up for her newsletter, go to http://eepurl.com/dHNdsX Beverly Varnado copyright 2023
