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The past two months have been horrible for me- full of pain and suffering beyond my wildest imagination.  I have felt empty.  I have longed for escape.  I have felt guilty about feeling such sadness and brokenness while I am also experiencing the beauty of my sweet and the loving support of my husband.  

Before my tragic fall down the stairs, I felt that I was at the peak of my life.  I was finally getting enough sleep and felt like myself again after my c-section.  I was fully enjoying being with my son and I was comfortably back into the swing of returning to work, a transition which had been one of the hardest of my life.  I had just finished writing my son a book that I was ready to share with the world.  I had just earned my Board Certification in Pediatrics for Occupational Therapy.  All was going well for me.  I woke up before my alarm clock and excitedly embraced the day… planning to run downstairs, grab a maternity top, and have a few extra moments for baby snuggles. 

I slipped and landed on my back in such a freakish way that I fractured a vertebrae.  Pain shot throughout my body… sharp and sudden.  I tried to stand and turn to walk back up the stairs, but my legs caved beneath me and I could not fully extend my spine.  I felt myself fall prostrate to the ground.  I summoned my breath to call for my husband but nothing came out.  I lay defeated, alone, and scared until l heard my alarm go off upstairs.  I realized that I was wearing my Apple watch and called my husband.  

“E.R.” I said, “baby.”  I could not move to put my clothes on.  I could not breathe.  I cried.  My husband asked where I wanted to go to the ER and I said the closest place possible.  I felt like I was dying and all I could think about was wanting to be around for Raymond.  “Fix me,” I cried.  

I wish that I could say that I thought more about God during experience that felt like a near death experience for me.  I could not think of God’s love, peace, or grace at that time.  All of I could do was cling so humanly and so stubbornly to life.

I am still shocked and angry that this could happen to me… a new mother who all I want in the world is to have more time with my baby.  I have spent the past two months being bitter, unable to sleep, and overanalyzing my decisions.  What if I laid my maternity top out the day before?  What if I had worked less?  What if I had slowed down?  What if I hadn’t been distracted or excited by the dream I had that night?  What if the ER had put me in a brace and diagnosed my fracture rather than telling me that I had a bruise and to just push through the discomfort and pain?  What if I had listened to my body and went straight to the back doctor?  What if I had contacted my primary care doctor to let her know I was in the emergency room (She said she could have prevented “deformity”).  So many butterflies flapping wings everywhere leading to my chaotic collapse. 

For the past two months, I have tried to stay busy and stay moving to distract myself from my pain.  I have tried to do what I can to keep moving and provide for my family… to write words and make money to show my love to Raymond… to be there for him in novel ways because I cannot carry him.  At first I hated being home because it reminded me of how much I couldn’t do for my child.  His cries reminded me of my failure as a mother.  I could not get over my own hurt to love on him.  I tried to sing to him when I couldn’t snuggle him.  So many people came to hold him, to help him, to help me.  

I sometimes wondered if he would be better off without me. 

Yet, my husband would not give up on me.  He did for me everything I could not do without complaining.. from tying my shoes to packing my material for work to cleaning up after me.  I watched my neat freak husband let our house fall apart and heard him tell me that he did not care about the mess.  Every time I climbed into the bed multiple times at night because I could not sleep, I felt his welcoming embrace.  (Well, I painfully pushed it off of me and snuggled against him.)  He got up to not only take care of our baby every night all night all by himself but also to take care of me. 

I am growing to accept my pain, that this is part of who I am now.  This is part of my story.  Until yesterday, I felt empty.  This is not who I am.  I am usual someone who sings, who crawls in the floor playing with children, who lifts heavy swings and carries large bags of toys and art supplies, who exudes energy and excitement for life… writing, reading, laughing, dreaming.  

Today, I have had a few moments of being pain free.  My soul has started to attempt to sing as I timidly learn to move my arms again. 

Because of where my injury is on my back (a T 7 vertebral fracture), I have had the most trouble lifting and bending.  I have a vision of a mother lifting her hands to the Lord while holding up her baby who is also lifting his hands to the Lord.  I long so much to be able to teach Raymond to raise his hands up in Praise.  I yearn for healing…for my cup to be full so that I can pour out love to others.  

I feel that God has called me to be a healer.  I have always been interested in healing and my definition of healing is ever expanding.  I believe that God is calling to me to be a writer.  I pray that God can use this experience to make me an instrument of his healing… who understands more fully about what it means to seek healing and provide healing.  

I will choose to be grateful for what I have… my son, my husband, my family and friends, and my God who is with me in my pain.  

As a kid, I used to say, “Why is it called Good Friday if Jesus died today?” I couldn’t wrap my head around how good could come from death or the strange balance of pain, injustice, and joy which is life on Earth.  I firmly believe that God is good and does not cause pain, sickness, or destruction.  Entropy is part of this world where things fall apart, people make mistakes, and shit happens.   Yet, God can create beauty and goodness even in the midst of and in spite of pain.  

“And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose.” Romans 8:28.

I believe in the sovereignty of God, the possibility of miracles, the hope of salvation.  

I can and I will devote my life to God, to the alleviation of suffering, and to the healing of minds plagued by pain, grief, and loneliness.  

I don’t like the phrase that God will not give us more than we can handle.   We will be overwhelmed and pushed to the breaking point sometime.  It’s ok to not be ok.  It’s ok to be mad, hurt, frustrated, and empty.   1 Corinthians 10:13 says, “But you can trust God. He will not let you be tempted more than you can bear. But when you are tempted, God will also give you a way to escape that temptation.”  God will not keep us in a bubble.  We are part of a broken world.   We will feel broken.  Our cups will run dry, but God will fill us back up.  God will give us the tools, resources, people, and words we need to grow and endure.  

I want my words to help you through your pain. I want you to know that you are not alone.  God is with you.  So is the Body of Jesus (the Church). Jesus was nailed to the cross and his bones were broken for you.  Damn, broken bones hurt.  This Easter, I hope you will take the time to do something for yourself… to fill up your cup.  I also hope you will take the time to share what gifts God has given you and to pour into others. I hope you will let go to what you’ve been clinging to and embrace whatever new dreams God gives you.  

If you don’t have any dreams yet, If you are in pain, If you are just feeling run down and empty, why don’t you give it 3 more days?  Miracles take time.  Healing takes time. 

Today, I’m trading in my emptiness for hope.

In Honor of Good Friday:  

“And when Jesus had cried out again in a loud voice, he gave up his spirit. At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. The earth shook, the rocks split, and the tombs broke open.” Matthew 27:50-52