Praises of a Wife and Mommy

 Week 7 turned out to be one of the hardest weeks yet. After getting the boot, everything felt heavier — literally and emotionally. My body was adjusting to bearing more weight, but my spirit was also feeling the weight of life. It was a full week with parent-teacher conferences that went late into the night, plus the balance of trying to walk again, and then two funerals and visitations to attend while wearing my pastoral hat. If I’m honest, I really wanted to be at those visitations. Just over a year ago, I earned my chaplaincy certificate and was filled with excitement for what God would do with it. I’m still waiting — waiting for the right season, the right timing, the right open door. But in the meantime, He keeps reminding me that being present for people, even when I’m still healing myself, matters. By Wednesday night, I hit my breaking point. I had been at school since early morning and worked until 8 p.m., but I was given permission to leave for a bit to attend a visit...

  The same day I got my cast off and graduated to the boot, I had another milestone waiting...  shaving my leg! It’s funny the things you look forward to after weeks in a cast, but it felt like such a big step toward feeling human again. The doctor had warned me there would be layers of dry, dead skin and that shaving too soon might cause razor rash. So, I took the advice and started with a trimmer instead of a razor. As the long hairs disappeared, I just had to laugh — healing can be both humbling and hilarious sometimes! The shower felt amazing, but as expected, the dead skin didn’t all come off in one go. I think it’ll take a few more showers before I’m fully back to normal. But before that shower, the emotions hit hard. I tried to figure out what 25% of my weight-bearing would feel like — and honestly, it was painful. My tendon is tight, and my muscles are weak. Every step was uncomfortable and awkward. I did a few laps around the house with my crutches, and tears came....

 Whew… the emotions have been running high this past week. Some of it is probably because my daughter just had her birthday—and not just any birthday—but the big one . She’s officially an adult. I’ve loved every single stage of raising her, and even though she’s “grown up,” I know she’ll still need me. I think what stirred me even deeper was reflecting back on my own 18th birthday. Just a month before I turned 18, my mom was diagnosed with leukemia. I’ll never forget visiting her at a hotel while she was receiving treatments. She was tired, drained from chemo, and it was heartbreaking to see as her daughter. That birthday ended up being my last with her, as she passed away that October. So, as I celebrate my daughter’s 18th, I can’t help but treasure every moment… while also fighting those sneaky little fears that try to creep in. Thoughts like, “What if I leave her young, too?” The enemy likes to whisper lies in moments of weakness, especially while I’m recovering from this inj...