Today is September 9 and that may not mean much to folks, but it marks a major year mark for me.
Last year on Sept. 9 (not 5 minutes after I took this picture), I stood up too suddenly while splitting wood, and I will always regret not grabbing the house to steady myself. Instead I stepped backwards and lost my footing as the board under my foot rolled. My initial fear was that I was going to injure my hip in the fall because they can be grumpy since the 5th child has been born. Wanting to save my hip, I threw my left arm out behind me to catch myself.[image source_type=”attachment_id” source_value=”1611″ align=”right” autoHeight=”true”]
I sat up and tenderly got up, testing my hip which did indeed feel fine. My left arm was feeling weird, so I rolled up my sweatshirt to figure out what I bruised only to find the bone sagging where it should not have been. I quickly grabbed it to immobilize the break and yelled for my husband, “Ben, I broke my arm!”
“Did you really break it? Like for sure broke it?”
“Yes, I broke it, for sure!”
I made him put me into the van immediately, I had him call a neighbor that I hardly knew (remember, military family, newly moved to Alaska at this moment), and we rushed off to the regional ER. A few hours and some excellent medication later I was placed back in the van with sincere apologies. The break was bad enough that it would require surgery. Our insurance would only cover that procedure on the base. After a few hours of surgery, my left wrist was pinned back together and I had some serious hardware screwed into my forearm. Hey, if you are going to do something, you may as well do it well, right?[image source_type=”attachment_id” source_value=”1609″ align=”right” size=”medium” autoHeight=”true”]
A year later, I still wish that moment hadn’t happened. I have adjusted to the massive scar that runs down my forearm and can actually pick heavy things up. However, there are things that I still have a hard time adjusting to, even one full year later.
The damage done to my wrist was significant enough that I may never be able to do another push up again. And for a former military girl, active in life, that still stings. The other painful reality is that I may never pick up my violin again. I tried to play it a few months ago and it was very hard to play properly. That is an extremely sad thing for me to see go because I played well.
This year while we were again preparing for an Alaska winter, splitting and stacking wood, I felt fear. When wood is being split, it makes a horrible cracking noise. The first few logs we split this weekend made the bottom of my stomach drop out. I never quite got used to the sound, and my kids began rolling their eyes at the numerous “be careful!!” reminders thrown their way. And it had to be done, because the winter is coming and we need to feed the wood burning stove!
Traumatic things stick in a memory worse than baked on egg in a dishwasher. I headed into the task with trepidation and honest fear. Again, a verse memorized in my childhood ran through my head “What time I am afraid, I will put my trust in thee.” Psalm 56:3. I prayed it often this weekend, as I stood up after each log split, while I walked with logs up our deck steps, when I stood up from stacking the wood. I had to remember that God would be with me no matter what happened, even for another ER run.[blockquote align=”right” cite=”Psalm 56:3″]What time I am afraid, I will put my trust in thee.[/blockquote]
[image source_type=”attachment_id” source_value=”1606″ align=”center” size=”large” autoHeight=”true”]
God was gracious and no emergencies occurred during the task. I am very thankful for getting through this anniversary. And I pray that He will grant me the desire of my heart: to play Pachabel’s Canon in D again on my violin.. flawlessly 😉