It's now been three weeks and one day since the accident. My life before that night seems almost like a different life to me. Or rather, like I'm living a different life now, one that doesn't quite feel my own. Yet, what was more confusing to me was the fact that, less than twenty four hours after I was handed back my life, people were still texting me about minor life details. How do I just…tell them that I almost died? How do I continue living my life normally, when it doesn't feel normal anymore? The evening that felt like 20 years had passed in my own life, was in reality, only 3 hours for everyone else. And they weren't gong to know I wasn't the same. They weren't going to see the thoughts and fixation I now had on the fine line between life and death. Life is fragile, momentary, and passing. Each moment is precious, valuable, and can never be had again. But those moments during that first week, they felt like a two-pronged attack on my emotional and physical states...
Scripture tells us that "To live is Christ, and to die is gain". And I wanted to believe that, even thought I did believe it. But one of the things I struggled with the most was the fact that, when it came down to it, I was terrified to die. Nothing could have scared me more. Nothing has ever scared me more than that thought that I was going to die. As a Christian, I know my future after death. I know I will spend eternity with Jesus in heaven. But I also know that I tend to cling tightly to my earthy home. Time with my earthly family seems sweeter to me than the thought of leaving them. I know this is wrong, and the stark reality that, I wasn't willing to give up all that I had for my Savior, made me cry more than once.
Anxiety gripped my heart constantly. I went to bed with it, and woke up with it. Anytime anyone left the house, I would have a mini panic attack and scramble to recall my last words to them, literally running after them if they weren't satisfactory. Cars terrified me, especially if I wasn't the one driving. Hugs seemed to be the thing I wanted most, and I snatched them every time I could get them. And still, there was that reel of images that seemed to be on repeat in my mind, playing each horrible moment over and over again, only adding to my fear. It was that one moment I wished I could forget forever, yet I know I'll never be able too.
The other half of the equation was my body. There is no more potent form of frustration than when you are now unable to accomplish simple things you've done all your life, and it's a terrible thing when you feel like your body is betraying you. It felt as if every muscle in me was frozen solid, refusing to move. No amount of hot baths, icing, or rubbing was enough to relieve the pain.
And the headaches! They were handicapping and indescribable. Countless time I wondered if it really would be better if I just hit my head with a frying pan so as to be done with it. That first week, I was lucky if I could manage to have a meal with my family, much less work, or keep up on the normal things of life, like folding laundry. My motivation to get up just wasn't there. My head felt like it was going to explode, and I could hardly manage that, let alone you know, talking to people, communicating and such.
Week two was better. Less soreness and bodily rebellion, but more regular headaches, intensifying in pain with each one, or so it seemed. The knowledge that I couldn't just sleep my life away motivated me to just press on. Life wasn't waiting for me, and I didn't want to miss any more of it. So I tried to push the pain aside, and continue with somewhat of a routine again. But it was humbling to not know my energy capacity for each day, to have to live life hour by hour, and also frustrating that, instead of improvement, my symptoms seemed more sever.
There was anger in my heart towards God. Not only had he taken my means of transportation, but He had also taken away my ability to serve others. I used my car to serve HIM, and also my own energy to serve HIM! Why in the world had He made it impossible for me to do either? There were opportunities I would have jumped at before, that now I had to turn down. It didn't seem fair to others or myself. Spending my time serving others was on of my favorite things in the world. And now all I had was a pounding heartache. All day, every day.
The first week, reading was impossible. But the second week, with so much time, and a determination to do anything I could potentially manage, I threw myself into Scripture. Spending hours reading, writing, and praying. More than one morning I remember my angry heart crying out "FOUL!" as I sat before the throne, but still, each day He took me in, angry heart and all. I had been daily questioning the Lord in His purpose through all of this, but gradually, I began to question my own heart, and began instead asking the Lord to show me my heart.
Week three, my heart's new theme was, He is faithful, and He will be again! A conviction of an independence attitude began to grow in my heart. And I saw this in more areas than one. My desires sounded good, and typically, they were for good things. But God's are BEST, and my desire for Him, my soul's dependance on Him should far surpass anything else. And if our desires are misaligned, He is kind enough to realign them for us, removing the stumbling block holding us back from doing so.
I don't all the reasons for why, don't have the answers to my questions, and wouldn't want to. But I do know that I am so…thankful that my car hit that tree. So thankful for the extra time I've had lately. So thankful for those daily headaches. Because I've had to be totally dependent on His provision for my practical needs. I've been able to draw closer to Him than I ever have before. And those painful reminders of my weakness? They are daily reminders to me that, without His strength and help, I really can do nothing. Those headaches help me to acknowledge that the entirety of my body and soul are tied to Him. Instead of healing them, it seems that He wishes to give me strength to endure them. And my heart has come to place of contentment in that, it is still an answer to my prayers.
Still, He loves to shower me with gifts! Like blessing me with a day pain free, which was such a special treat. An anonymous financial donation, to go towards a new car. Sisters with hearts of gold, giving what little they have to another. And many crystal clear memories with those I love most. These gifts have spurred me to strive towards a soulful dependance on God, even when I feel like I can tackle my day independently. A heart to bless others without man's praise, but God's alone. To not be ashamed if I have little, but cheerfully hold what I have with open hands, knowing it is not mine to begin with. And to cherish every moment God has given me, for each one is a gift. To take our time here on earth for granted would be a waste of God's generosity towards His children.
I'm still struggling with fear, anxiety, and trusting in the Lord's good plan for the lives around me. Daily, I have to remind myself that this world is not my home, this life is not the end, and to die is gain. There is still discouragement, and frustration as I live with the changes around me. But there is also contentment with my current circumstances, appreciation for the slow days I have, delight in life's tiny joys, and the assurance that the Lord just wants me to seek Him. That's all I'm called to do right now! And more than that? "I am sure of this, that He who began a good work in you will bring it to completion." and with that in mind? What have I to fear?
"Still wonderin' why I'm here, Still wrestling with my fear, But oh... He's up to something! And the farther out I go, I've seen enough to know, That I'm not here for nothin'… He's up to somethin'.
So there is hope for me yet, Because God won't forget, All the plans He's made for me, I have to wait and see. He's not finished with me yet, He's not finished with me yet." ~ Brandon Heath
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