As much as I have been telling myself that God sees me as helpless, dust… I apparently didn’t believe it enough.

Monday morning I was closing windows. As I pushed myself up on a child’s ladder we have coming down from our dining area bench, the step I was using snapped. I found myself suddenly flat-footed on the ground, my breath ragged and saying “I’m fine” on repeat like a daft parrot. Slowly coming out of shock, I found it impossible to put my full weight on my left leg. I hobbled over to the nearest chair and assessed the damage. My shin had a shallow scrape that was bleeding, but not much. I asked my children to bring me a stool to elevate my leg, and an ice pack. As I sat there breathing and thinking, it occurred to me that I should let my husband know this situation. He was in the office. I called, and as soon as I heard his voice I started crying.

I hate crying. I hate telling anyone that I cry. But I have cried more in the last week than I have in the last year. Not from pain. The initial pain was the worst, and the pain from the one day this past week I thought I was healed because I was wearing shoes was pretty bad too, but otherwise the pain level has been more on the level of annoyance.

Yes, I thought shoes were all I needed to resume my usual activity level. Wednesday, I woke and dressed for BSF because they have childcare and I figured that it wouldn’t be too much up on my feet. Previously I had followed my house rule of no shoes, but when I noticed that I could walk without pain (I am thinking some people might have considered it “pain”; to me it was more like a higher than usual awareness of my shin), I kept pushing it and ended up spending probably two hours on my feet in the afternoon in addition to the walking kids to classes at BSF. When I took my shoes off, the pain shocked me. I felt like something was stabbing my shin with a hundred paring knives. I went from feeling like I was on the mend to feeling like I had not improved at all from day zero.

Oh, the frustration! I am fighting every moment with the knowledge that I can be on my feet, yet every minute on my feet causes further injury. It feels irresponsible to be on my feet; it feels lazy to be sitting… even lazier when others are doing for me what I technically can do for myself.

It isn’t my story to tell, but I know I am not alone in that frustration. People with “invisible illnesses” deal with this every day. Even those who have experienced similar symptoms as me have told me not using the injured area is difficult.

So why am I writing? What am I trying to send out into the internet?

I want to share this because I want the record to show that I have gone so far into sharing my experience without a word of gratitude, without a mention of the immense blessings I have received in the last six days. You, reader, need to know that while God is great and has changed me in surprising and wonderful ways, I still am so very self-centered.

God has blessed me with a loving husband who will do anything for me without a complaint. He has placed my mom in my home with her medical knowledge and persistent concern for my wellbeing. Where Love will do anything I ask, my mom knows what I need before I think to ask. My mother in law came and spent two days over at our house doing laundry and keeping kids busy and fed. Then she kept the kids for two nights at her house so I could really rest. I was able to wake up two mornings in a row of my own accord, and sleep as long as I needed. Our church started a meal train, and I have not cooked for a week. Someone even offered to pay for x-rays. My homeschool group is praying for us. While I wrestle with feeling frustrated, I am being enveloped in love that I cannot describe. God has seen fit to shower my little family with the active care of His people. How inscrutable are His ways!

I have asked many people to pray that I would not waste this time. Maybe I am writing in an attempt to make good use of the time I am “benched”.

Know this, dear reader: God loves you. He knows my self-centeredness and He knows yours (though I doubt you are quite so self-centered as me!), and He still loves us. He is trying to teach us, isn’t He? Let us pray that our hearts would be tender, our ears ready, our minds fixed on Him.

You keep him in perfect peace
whose mind is stayed on you,
because he trusts in you.
— Isaiah 26:3