the remains of something destroyed
I’m looking at this entirely wrong.
Earlier this week, I wrote this sentence in my journal, and it gave me pause. One of my most-pleaded prayers is: Lord, be strict with me. It is an important prayer in order to live the life I am meant to live. I don’t want to live on the margins of righteousness, nor in the fringes of goodness. I want God to be strict with me.
Usually God does heavy lifting with me in scripture, but on this day it was through prayer and reflection. I was recalling some of my long-time prayers and wondering if this new season (that I inadvertently tumbled into with a broken ankle and mandatory stillness) would be the fodder for the answers.
The earth has made many trips around the sun as I keep praying to:
- be unhurried.
- be less.
- see unconventional and raw beauty in the midst of everyday life.
- value the ordinary as extraordinary.
- cultivate a habit of gratitude so that it becomes the fiber of who I am.
What if being grounded on the couch is the way I will become these things?
It was then that I realized I’m looking at this situation entirely wrong. Rather than sitting on the couch feeling like I’m lazy and unhealthy, I need to acknowledge that I’m sitting on the couch and healing while nourishing my body with rest. Healing is an active practice that, in this case, happens when I stay still.
It is a unique season that I’m in. I have never been in a season such as this, a season where I’m forced into stillness and dependent on others. I’m caught up in worrying about gaining wait and losing muscle and a messy house and undone work tasks and missed connections with the kids and the extra burdens I am placing on Andy. Yet, what if these concerns are stealing the power of this incredibly unique season?
It’s not like God is surprised by any of this.
I’ve been thinking about ashes as part of a prompt the Spiritual Thursday community offered. The definition of ashes is the remains of something destroyed. Isn’t it interesting that something destroyed can remain?
My eyes drift to my broken ankle. Although I would not use the word destroyed to describe it (drama is not my forte), it did destroy my daily routine. I’ve been grasping the remains and trying to return to normal. It is as plausible as grasping ashes and trying to mold them into what used to be.
It’s why the Spirit insists that I am looking at this season entirely wrong.
Rather than rebuilding what used to be, it is time to embrace the healing process wholeheartedly. That means sitting still with the intent to be well. This means opening my heart and opening my fists to receive what God has for me. I wonder what there is to learn that couldn’t be learned while running along a snowy road.
Regardless, I am excited for this adventure to go anew. (Even though it is killing me to still sit still.)
PS—I am on the long-haul healing road. The damage was significant and the repair added more no-weight-bearing time. Rather than being ready to walk in 3 weeks, I have 9 more weeks (and 3 days). Then there is expected to be 3- 5 weeks of PT to be able to walk again. Another surgery will follow in a few months.
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