In December, Shawn got a job offer from the amazing church where we now serve. It seemed like things were finally falling into place. The same month, I slipped and fell on some ice, something I'd done a dozen times before. This time, however, a simple accident produced what my physical therapist described as a "severe trauma injury" to my back; "almost exactly what you would see if you had been in a high-speed car accident." Muscle and nerve pain in my back, hips, and legs.
So while some things were moving forward (new job, start in 8 weeks! new place to live, move in 6!), others came to a screaming halt.
There were hopes and plans for things that I wanted for my life, for our life, that suddenly were not options because of the physical limitation. I do my exercises, I do my stretches, and I am improving, but there is nothing I can do to make this move faster. No pill to take, no work-out to do, no doctor to see, that will make swift my healing. And while we should expect a full recovery, a complete resolution of symptoms and pain could take up to two years. Hopes: deferred.
Some days I boil inside with frustration. Others, my spirit sits quietly. At first the stillness was pure self-preservation; I could not sustain that burn of anger without feeling damage. Then it became almost a habit, and amazingly enough, the fury in it doesn't show up most days.
The unexpected blessing is that God is allowing me to be a small part of some crazy things that he is doing in the lives of people around me. I know it's not for me - it's for them and their lives and families - but somehow he has built a promise in it for me, too. "Look what I can do," he tells me. "In a place where you all thought hope was gone, I have brought it back to life."
So I wait, everyday attempting to transfer my hopes for Jesus to carry in his capable hands. And remember, when doubt sometimes bites at the edges of my mind, I do not know yet how this story ends...