The Winter of My Discontent

I’m not sure that 2010 has had much to recommend it so far. Bitter cold, rain, fog—the whole month seemed to be one long, dank ice cave. And then it got worse.

I tripped over my own feet coming out of church and fell down. A mighty boom it was, with an impressive owey. I fractured the head of the radius up near the elbow. For the 98% of us who don’t know what a radius is, let’s just say I broke my right elbow. Instantly, my life changed. Simple things like dressing and eating were now difficult. Fixing my hair was impossible—as was dressing without assistance. Turning the page of a book was agony.

Now, a week and a half later, with 3 physical therapy sessions, I am better. Not great, but improved. I can dress myself, and if the fork is long enough, eat. I can knit and read, but not without pain. Vicodin and I don’t get along well, so I don’t fear turning into the English professor version of Dr. House, but I understand how chronic pain can make sunny tempers turn thunderous.

So now, the great lessons (for what good is life experience if you can’t draw lessons from it?):

· Pain can, indeed, draw you to God. It’s much easier to find time to read the Bible when the only thing you can do is read (or listen).

· You’ll be surprised at who cares about you—and who does not. At the church I’ve served week in, week out for more than 20 years, only one senior staff member called (or facebooked or emailed or snail-mailed) to check up on me. Facebook friends have been free with their prayers, as have students. The church where I play the piano once a month, though, sent a card signed by nearly all the regular attenders.

· It’s OK to ask for the help you need.

· Your safe, secure life can be turned upside down in an instant.

I’m looking forward to spring, which the groundhog assures me is only 5 weeks and 6 days away. May it be sunny and warm, and may I learn to walk upright (without training wheels).