I read a post this morning from an amazing infertility blogger and woman of God, Caroline Harries, and it has had me thinking ALL day long. I was gifted her book last year from a loved one called In Due Time. It’s about being in the wait. If you are currently waiting for a job, husband, baby, or anything else, it is an excellent 60 day devotion. You can check it out here.
Anyway, back to my post…because it’s
not about me.
Apparently I’m a selfish person, but then again, aren’t we all? It’s our sinful nature. It’s human nature to be selfish. At least that’s what we tell ourselves. How we justify it.
BUT, am I an average-selfish person? Below-average selfish? Regular selfish? And there I am. I’m caught in the trap, once again, of comparing myself to others.
And then I catch myself saying: I, my, me…and how often those three little words come out of my mouth, invading my thoughts.
- I can’t do this anymore
- My heart is breaking
- Why is this happening to me
For those who don’t know about the freak accident I was in during high school, the quick run-down is that I was thrown over 100 feet from an inflatable slide when it was blown over by the wind. 6 broken bones, partially collapsed lung, bruised internal organs, 2 traumatic brain injuries, metal plate-five screws-two pins in my right forearm, 3 days in ICU, another 4-5ish days in a regular bed, no memory 15 minutes before my accident until a full 3 weeks later, 3 (?) months of physical therapy, 8 months of occupational therapy (to regain muscle and dexterity in my right arm), and 9 months of speech therapy for the short term memory (cognitive issues), and I had made it. Recovered by the end of my 10th grade year. Right??? Wrong.
I forgot to mention the neuro-psychological testing I completed at Dallas Children’s Hospital a few weeks after the accident, then again a few months later, then AGAIN a year later (maybe….not sure about that), and then finally for the last time during my freshman year of college.
Oh! And the family counseling we all started about a month after the accident. Although, by this time we knew I would recover and be back to my (somewhat) normal self.
I couldn’t stand it. I did NOT want to go to counseling…I mean, I was going to be fine. All the doctors had said so. This was the exact reasoning I was giving to my mom as I sat in the front seat of the car on the way to our first appointment. My sister and I were going to meet with the counselor as a sibling group. I remember rolling my eyes and trying to make my mom understand all of this on the drive after school, when all of a sudden I hear my sister speak up from the back seat: Maybe this isn’t about you.
It took all of 1.2 seconds for the guilt to hit me. Not that guilt was my sister’s intention, but in that moment I needed to be reminded that the world does not revolve around me. As I was laying in that hospital bed, my family spent seconds, minutes, hours, days at my bedside waiting for a response. Waiting for me to wake up. When I did finally open my eyes after 3 days, I was acting bizarrely, speaking with a high pitched sing-song voice, and very agitated. Y’all, I punched a nurse, tore off my neck brace, threw it across the room, and I sang Newsboys’ Entertaining Angels at supersonic speed in the middle of the night, totally freaking out my dad. But I hear brain injuries can do that to a person. At least that’s the excuse I’m going with.
For weeks, months, and years following the accident, I constantly wondered: Why me?
So, a few paragraphs up, I went through the injuries and long road of recovery. But here is the best part: God has used and continues to use my accident to bring people to Him. He is glorified in it all.
Remember how I was thrown over a hundred feet? Did I mention that I “flew” over a grassy area, over a street, over the top of a camping trailer, only to land on the awning attached to the roof of that trailer. The awning was about the size of a double bed, meant to provide a little shade and not be a landing zone for a 15, almost 16, year old teenage girl.
Angels carried me.
That camping trailer? One of the most well-known doctors in my hometown (don’t ask me his name, for the love, I can’t remember) was volunteering his time that day just inside the trailer that was serving as the first aid station for the event I was volunteering at and was able to get me stabilized until the ambulance arrived.
The paramedics? As they were working on me (it took over 10 minutes at the scene for them to get some kind of verbal response from me) one of the paramedics looked up, saw my friends surrounding us with hands held in prayer and went home to tell his wife that he wanted to go to church the next day (accident was on a Saturday) and he gave his life to Christ and became a believer.
My injuries? Absolutely nothing I could not overcome. 3 cracked ribs, a cracked pelvis and 2 bones in my right arm were broken. I AM WALKING. No injuries to my neck, spine, or back.
And the craziest part? I attended a private Christian high school and we had our fall retreat that Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday earlier in the week. See You At The Pole was that Wednesday and I attended a city wide Saw You At The Pole rally that evening with my youth group from church. Everyone was sharing stories of meeting at the pole that morning and how they prayed for the students on the campus, for the teachers, city, state, and national leaders. The next morning was a Thursday. Just an ordinary day at school when I walked into the bathroom before 3rd period and saw 2 of the senior girls crying. I asked if they were okay and one of them shared that there had been a shooting in the Dallas area the night before at a church hosting a Saw You At The Pole event and one of the victims was someone they knew. I distinctly remember one of the girls telling me how she felt God was going to move in a big way in our high school that year. We were all on fire for God and it had been a great start for the school year. But as I was walking out of the bathroom, I remember shaking my head and my eyes getting wide when the same girl shared that she felt something was going to happen to one of our students. That they might even die.
Two days later was my accident.
It’s not about me. It’s totally about God.
I serve a God of miracles. They are mentioned in the Bible and they are still happening every day.
I know that one day I will be a mother. I’m still not quite sure how all that will happen, but I absolutely cannot wait for the day that I’m sitting right back in this seat and writing about how God was in the waiting. How God was with me every step of the way. How He carried me when I no longer felt I could move.
It’s not my plan, but it is God’s perfect plan.
PS: If you would like more info on the support group Moms In The Making that is led by Caroline, you can find it on Facebook with a quick search. It’s a closed group of over 2,000 women believing that God’s plan is better than their own.
PPS: You can also follow Caroline on Instagram @trustinginduetime
PPPS: There’s a separate group on Facebook dedicated to In Due Time Devotional. Go look it up!