Not-quite-twenty years ago, I broke my ankle. Not a small break, more of an “OH NO, GIRL!” kind of break – one that required surgery and months and months of recovery. Even after all this time, I’ve yet to experience a full range of motion or complete freedom from random pain throughout my ankle and lower leg.
That period of time in my life was awful. I was living with my abuser. And stuck there like a prisoner, without being able to transport myself anywhere. Reliant on him, because the “friends” I had, well, they were suddenly very scarce. The abuse didn’t stop because of my injury – but instead, escalated into a deeper mental and emotional-type abuse. And while I won’t revisit those details during this post, I can, without a doubt say that the mental and emotional trauma of those months is a deep, dark pit full of vipers.
In the almost-20 years since the accident that left me with a plate and seven screws, a lot happened and a lot changed. But the scars I received during that part of my life and the years following it still run through and across and around my heart, mind, and soul in jagged edges.
When we moved here – to Arkansas in late 2019 – we I moved here escorted by unrealistic expectations. I was seeking healing. Unification. Solidarity. Family. I wanted to feel as though I was loved and important and wanted. I was fighting for my place as a daughter and a sibling. I wanted something I’d never had – something I felt deprived of – something I believed left me insufficient.
My hopes and dreams fell into the deep pools of reality and truth and I soon realized that I was no closer to the prize than I had been in Indiana. I was not magically a part of a family who did life together. I wasn’t suddenly loved beyond measure by those I had idolized the majority of my life. I didn’t, with the poof of a U-Haul feel sufficient and whole. In fact, the hole I was trying to fill turned into a chasm of distress and even depression.
It was there, in that pit of wretchedness that I found myself on my knees. Found myself crying out to my Father – to THE Father. Oh! How I needed to be redeemed!
Two years ago, I truly laid myself at God’s feet. As I’m growing my relationship with Him, I am learning to see things as they are – to set apart my worth from my trauma. I’m learning to separate who I am from the choices I’ve made. I’m learning to trust Him and His path for me.
Still, in the background there has been this persistent whisper … that we aren’t meant to do life alone. That I BELONG. And though my heart leapt for it – though I started building relationships and making friends – there was still a part of me … still ashamed … still unworthy … still abandoned, abused, unloved and unlovable. Still alone.
On March 11 I broke the same ankle (even the same bone where there is already “hardware”) I broke nearly twenty years ago. And while the physical pain was immense (if you’ve never broken a bone, trust me when I say it is an unmistakable feeling), it was panic flowing through me in that moment as memories resurfaced and the fear of a repeat scenario rose like bitter bile in my mind. As we sat in the Emergency Room, my thoughts were spinning out of control.
This. Was. Too. Much.
I have kids now! How am I going to take care of them?
Will my husband stay if I can’t “do” all the things?
I can’t do this!
Will I lose my job?
How will I get to and from everywhere?
I can’t do this!
How am I going to take care of my responsibilities?
I don’t want to do this alone again.
I can’t do this!
I’m going to miss out on everything.
I can’t serve anyone like this!
I CANNOT DO THIS.
Brick. Wall.
BUT GOD.
“And He has said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness.” – 2 Corinthians 12:9
“And my God will supply all your needs according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:19
“I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.” Philippians 4:13
“Be still, and know that I am God.” Psalm 46:10
“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight.” Proverbs 3:5-6
“God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.” Psalm 46:1
“Consider the ravens, for they neither sow nor reap; they have no storeroom nor barn, and yet God feeds them; how much more valuable you are than the birds!” Luke 12:24
“And do not seek what you will eat and what you will drink and do not keep worrying. For all these things the nations of the world eagerly seek; but your Father knows that you need these tings. But seek His kingdom and these things will be added to you.” Luke 12:29-30
In the last 3 weeks, His love has poured over and around me, overflowing my cup, drowning my sorrow, and healing the wounds I thought would see me to my grave. Through His people, I have felt His grace, mercy, and most importantly, His love.
In a hot dinner for my family.
In a lunchtime delivery for my son.
A ride to the doctor, to a brunch, to church.
A shower chair.
A knee scooter.
House-cleaning.
Sourdough.
Halo ice cream.
A 10-hour drive to pick up my daughter.
Lunchables.
Visits.
Cinnamon Rolls.
Calls.
Texts.
Memes.
Care Packages.
Hugs.
Bomb Teas.
Funny Cast Notes.
Jokes.
And just lots and lots of love.
There’s something reparative in being showered with kindness, love, and acts of service without bitterness, or hesitation. Without resentment or shaming. Without expectation.
There’s something restorative in shared laughter during moments of inadequate, worthless, and helpless feelings.
There is something miraculous in being loved.
I hear Him – His voice soothing – in each of these moments. Reminding me that I’m loved. Telling me that I am NOT alone. Reassuring me that He is with me. And with each reassurance, a small bit of my heart stitches itself back together.
I’ve discovered that not only are we not supposed to do life alone, we CAN’T do life alone. We were meant to live in relationship. With God. With our spouse and our children. With the church and our small groups. It’s those relationships that lead us to love. And it’s through love that we show Jesus to the world around us. It’s through love that Jesus shows himself to us. And it’s through Jesus that we heal.
This broken leg sucks. It’s painful, uncomfortable and inconvenient. It’s frustrating to not be able to do the things I want and need to do. It’s way beyond my comfort zone to rely on others. But it’s healing parts of me that I could never have healed alone. Would never have healed alone. He made sure I didn’t have to.
We aren’t meant to do life alone. We’re made for relationship. And it’s the real, authentic, no-filter relationships that laugh at you when you scoot around on a knee scooter, encourage your presence when you feel like an inconvenience, bring bomb teas into your messy home, and drive you ten hours because you can’t drive yourself that bring the love of Jesus into your mess. And suddenly, your messy life is beautiful, broken leg and all.
Until Next Time,
Bits O' Bran 