Have you ever felt on top of the world one minute only to have the rug pulled out from under you the next? It’s not pretty. Literally one week after a great writers’ conference, I landed in the ER. My foot slipped while hiking in the mountains leaving me with three fractures and a dislocated right ankle. As I sat on the trail staring at my misshapen foot (and trying not to vomit), I shook my head. Why? What lesson is this challenge trying to teach me, Lord?
If God intended to get my attention, He had it now. Lying flat on my back in a hospital bed gave me plenty of time to think. But my thoughts focused more on all the summer activities I had planned before the season started. When my surgeon told me no weight bearing on my right ankle for ten weeks, all aspirations ended. Gardening, beekeeping, a painting project, and more hiking were certainly not happening any time soon.
My days since returning home from the hospital have been filled instead with simpler tasks. By necessity, I’ve focused my attention on efficient strategies to move from one place to another with only one functional leg. Nothing is easy. Dressing myself and bathing are difficult and energy sapping. Thank goodness all our living spaces are on one floor, and we have a walk-in shower with a seat. These are life’s little blessings I took for granted in the past. But not now.
So, what lesson is this challenge trying to teach me? Is there insight I can glean from this painful situation?
A Lesson on Trust
The need to trust was the first lesson God revealed to me on this crazy adventure. My accident happened on a trail . . . in the woods . . . at the base of a waterfall. Personal control was not an option. I had to trust my wellbeing to my husband and to total strangers who came to my aide. Thank goodness for a wonderful woman who placed cool compresses on my forehead while her son ran back down the trail to get a cell signal so he could call for help. God bless the volunteer firemen and DNR guys who splinted my ankle and carried me out to the forest service road where my husband waited to drive me to the hospital. A thousand thank you’s to the ER receptionist who brought me a pillow for my foot while I waited and all the other Johnson City Med Center personnel who treated me with loving care. You are amazing!
A Lesson on Awareness
The second lesson was a reminder from fifteen years ago when I fractured my other leg. This temporary injury has again heightened my awareness of how difficult it is to navigate our world with disabilities. Many facilities labeled as accessible are not even close. Even the most mundane of tasks can be challenging or impossible for someone who is disabled. And when getting out of the house is difficult, impairments tend to isolate individuals making the problems even more detrimental to self-esteem. Awareness is a step toward real solutions to help this often overlooked part of our population.
A Lesson on Humility
Humility was the third and likely most important lesson God revealed to me through this accident. Life will go on without me. All my great plans will wait. Or maybe they need to be diverted to other endeavors. Perhaps my time while off my feet is better spent writing, or resting, or praying, or something else I haven’t even thought of? Only God knows the plans He has for me. Humility teaches me the value of listening rather than telling God what I think He should do. And humility helps me ask for the help I need and not try to micromanage everything myself (please pray my husband doesn’t lose his sanity trying to care for me).
For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”
Jeremiah 29:11 NIV
What lesson is this challenge trying to teach me? Trust, awareness, and humility are key elements to see God working through every situation—even the painful ones.
Lord, give me eyes to see and ears to hear all the words of wisdom You offer to me today. Amen!
Hope you feel better soon On the bright side. Lots of time to read and write.
Ruth H
Thank you! Yes, I will.