Praises of a Wife and Mommy

Hebrews 10:36 has been my anchor lately. I’ve written it on photos of my scar and legs, because I need the constant reminder: “Patient endurance is what you need now, so that you will continue to do God’s will. Then you will receive all that he has promised.” — Hebrews 10:36 (NLT) Those two words, patient endurance, carry so much weight. They sound so simple until you’re in the middle of the process. Healing has a way of showing us what those words really mean. It’s the patient part that stretches me, waiting for progress, waiting for strength, waiting for normal. And it’s the endurance part that builds me, pushing through the pain, the swelling, the setbacks, and still choosing to believe that better days are coming. This season has reminded me that both can exist together. I can be grateful and frustrated. Strong and sore. Hopeful and tired. Healing is not linear, but it is purposeful. God is using every ache and every delay to shape me into someone stronger, not just physically bu...

Well, Monday brought another doctor appointment. He looked at my scar and seemed pleased. He asked about weight-bearing and again seemed pleased. Then he said the words I knew were coming but still made my stomach drop a little: “It’s time to start physical therapy.” Three times a week for six weeks. Whew. That’s a whole lot! I know it’s necessary, and I know it’ll help me get stronger, but I also know it’s going to hurt. How does one prepare for that kind of “good pain”? How do I wrap my brain around the fact that something that’s going to be uncomfortable is actually exactly what I need?  (When I got to the PT place to make appointments they actually only scheduled me two times a week and said the PT would discuss if we needed a 3 one.) So, I’ve asked for prayers — and I treasure every single one.  I’ve noticed I’m starting to bear more than 50% of my weight now, which feels amazing. At school last week, I found myself using my crutches more and scooting less. Every small v...

 I was so proud of myself! I walked with my crutches through the downtown of my town — a longer walk than usual — and it felt so good to set a goal and reach it! The weather for fall was so beautiful as well and I wanted that Vitamin D so much!  Later that night, I had to make a Walmart run and thought, “Why not keep walking? No scooter tonight.” Well… once I got out of the car, I quickly realized how sore my hands were from all that crutching earlier.  So I humbly decided to embrace the Walmart scooters. Let’s just say… going backwards is so incredibly slow , but I still had fun! While zooming (or creeping) through the aisles, I ended up talking to three other people using scooters, too. One couple, probably in their 80s, completely made my night. The gentleman looked right at me and said, " Darling, never stop smiling!" His kind words and twinkling blue eyes just melted my heart. I instantly thought, Can I adopt them as my grandparents? You see, I didn’t have any...

  What a perfect fall day! The sun was shining, the air was crisp, and I knew it was time to take a few more literal steps in this healing journey. So, Baylee and I packed up the crutches and headed to the levee... well she drove me there because that would have been a walk just getting their.   Now, when I say I walked a trail, don’t picture some long, scenic marathon moment. We’re talking maybe 1/6 of a mile  which to some might sound small, but to me?  It felt like victory and freedom!  There I was, crutching my way along this brand new little path, feeling the breeze and hearing the water nearby. I can’t tell you how good it felt to be outside again surrounded by a few trees starting to show their fall colors and the calm ripple of the river beside me. There’s just something about the water that draws me closer to God’s presence. When I finally sat on a small bridge and just breathed , I felt it deep in my soul, that peace that only comes from Him...

 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...

  Well, the day finally came — cast removal day! I had been praying for this next step, hoping I’d get to graduate from the blue cast to the boot stage, and thankfully… I did!  No new cast — just the boot... with crutches. This appointment felt different from the last one. The first time they removed a cast, I was so anxious my heart rate increased and I had to fight fear.  But this time, I was calm — maybe because I’ve had a little practice at this whole “trusting God through healing” thing. Instead of panic, I just giggled because the saw and vibrations actually tickled my foot. I’ll take “ticklish” over “terrified” any day! Once the cast came off, the nurse wiped my leg with some cleansing solution — and oh my, that felt amazing. After seven weeks of being wrapped up, that poor leg was dry, itchy, and in serious need of lotion, sunlight, and a shave. Seeing my leg next to the other one though… whew. That was a moment. Reality hit. The muscle loss, the odd color, th...

 Tuesday was Anthony’s turn. His bicep tendon repair surgery was scheduled for the 19th, and Baylee and I were there with him. My own pain was minimal that day, but my nerves were all over the place—especially since the hospital didn’t give many updates while he was in surgery. I had my knee scooter with me, so every now and then I wheeled myself around the waiting area just to ease the tension. After what felt like hours, a nurse finally told us they were almost finished and he would soon be in recovery. Baylee and I decided to step outside for a quick walk/scoot to breathe some fresh air before seeing him. When they finally let me back to recovery, I could tell right away that Anthony wasn’t himself. He was very loopy, his arm and hand completely numb, and his balance was off. A nurse brushed it off with a comment that he wasn’t on anything that strong and “should be fine.” But he wasn’t fine. He was weak and unsteady. My heart ached seeing him like that, and I silently prayed ...