As of this writing, I can’t bend my left leg. It’s in a lovely black-and-gray foam brace that starts at my upper thigh and ends mid-calf, and it’s accessorized with a charming pair of slate gray crutches. It’s what everyone will be wearing this spring.
Actually, what happened was my family and I went skiing for the day (we’re within a few hours’ drive to five ski resorts), and I thought it’d be fun to somersault down a black slope with my husband watching. I’ve been skiing for 25 years, but I prefer the nice, intermediate blue slopes, and yet the only way down the top of the mountain was a short black run.
About twenty feet down, my ski caught a clump of snow, and down I went. And mid-spin, my foot went one way while my knee when another. Pop. Good times.
So now I’m here, sitting in an armchair in my living room while my foot rests extended on the ottoman. In front of me on the coffee table is a heap of papers, library books, water bottles, and a plastic box of baby wipes.
On the floor to the left of me lay a random pile of little boys’ dirty clothes, a collapsed purple scooter, and a box of wooden train tracks outpoured. Oh, and three matchbox cars. And a pacifier.
To my right, on the dresser, sits an ever-increasing pile of school papers to sort through. I also spy an overdue library book, mocking me with dime-sized daily charges. Oh look, there’s a toy lizard I can’t reach. And a blue bowl of half-eaten crackers.
“GOD, the Lord, is my strength; he makes my feet like the deer’s; he makes me tread on my high places.” -Habakkuk 3:19
I’m learning to burrow deep in to the God of my blessings, because my husband is amazing and doing the work of two parents while I sit and watch. I can read bedtime stories, fold the laundry, and review the week’s spelling words. I can thankfully work, because writing requires a laptop and a chair, and I have access to both. And I still have half a lap for my two-year-old to shimmy up and snuggle in my arms, because he wants his mama despite that pesky leg brace.
“I believe that I shall look upon the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living.” -Psalm 27:13
The messes aren’t going away any time soon, and it’ll take time for my knee to heal. But God is still good. The sun still shines through my window. I’m surrounded by blessings.
Sure, I wish my knee were healed, and that I don’t have to deal with health insurance and surgery and physical therapy. But God is still good. He’s still good. I have every reason to rejoice.
How are you learning to rejoice in your current less-than-perfect circumstance?
By Tsh, Simple Mom