December 7, 2015 will always be fixed in my mind as I toppled down a staircase resulting in serious trauma called TPF – Tibia Plateau Fracture. One overlooked step, caused my femur to come down like a hammer on the plateau (top) of my tibia bone, tearing my ACL in half and tearing my meniscus. I felt like my knee was looking at me saying “What in the world did you do to us?!?”
Fast forward one week: ambulance ride, x-rays, MRI’s, long doctor appointments, different braces, wheelchair, walker, and from the pits of hell – crutches. Finally, settled at home, missing all the holiday fun, ice packs, leg elevated, brace in place, muscle relaxers, tramadol – it was now my personal mission to figure out what had happened and how long my life would be unsettled?
Me: I need to figure this out, I have things to do!
Other person: Don’t research it on the internet.
Me: Open computer, search TPF on google.
Internet: Your life is going to suck for a long time.
TPF is the granddaddy of all leg breaks, a looooong recovery, leg spasms, swelling, loss of motion in your knee, muscles turned to mush, and eventually learning how to walk without a limp – in one statement “IT”S A BEATING”. You become like a navigator sizing up different floors terrains (people pick up your trash!), washing your hair (I have big Texas hair), trying to dress, and the list is never-ending.
Strangely, compared to the physical limitations, it was the emotional piece connected to TPF injury that was the hardest. Imagine the emotional element of TPF like an upside down bell curve. Now picture yourself sitting at the bottom of the curve, in a pit.
Coupled with my never ending crying, was the guilt I felt as to how I let myself sink this low. For the past two years I had seen God do some major victories in my husband’s battle with congestive heart failure and my niece’s battle with leukemia, and now this…I found myself at the bottom of a valley?
A week before my accident, I am sitting in the Chick-fil-a parking lot sharing with my husband the joy of how I felt Jesus was working in me. I was undone with His love! Fast forward 12 weeks, I am sitting in my bedroom staring at the wall, crying and feeling completely empty. I had nothing left in me. My joy and laughter for life had evaporated in my pain.
Here is where “I” exit and enters Jesus
For years I have prayed for God surprises in my life, and I guess they were stored up prayers because, true to His word, He did show up (Isaiah 40:31)! Like a perfect storm, God surprised me!
The next Sunday, I was sitting in Stephen’s office watching the volunteers come in to prepare for the day. A sweet friend walked in and asked how I was doing and then told me two things – God is not mad at me for how I was feeling, and my emptiness was so I could be filled by Him – just Him, nothing else. Jesus is so good. I knew that day would be pivotal. I would slowly start to climb out of that curve of despair.
A few days later I was listening to author Mark Batterson speak about how the power of words can breathe life into your situation. That same day, my devotion was on the rhema word of God.
In John 6:63, Jesus said, “The words [rhema] that I speak to you are spirit, and they are life.”
I knew I needed to make some changes. Recovery for TPF is usually 4-6 months with full healing taking up to a year. I have made it a practice to speak words of life and healing each day when I wake up and focusing on how far I have come.
I realize my pain may not be like yours or nearly as difficult as yours, but my prayer is this will be a rhema word for you. Focus on the Burden Bearer not the burden, and rest in Him each day. I pray life, joy, healing and laughter will fill your spirit in such a powerful way, that when it happens you will recognize His presence immediately…your own perfect storm from Him!
Peace and grace,
