Tip of My Iceberg

Less than four days into our long-awaited family vacation, I threw my back out.

I’ve been greatly humbled by this presently intolerable pain.

John has had back issues for quite a few years. My short-lived kindness for him escalates quickly to “Seriously? You can’t move?”

Honey, I’m so sorry.

It happened so quickly, in a move I’ve made dozens of times. I lifted a grand to reach the top of a short slide. Not something that’s ever bothered me before.

It did this time.

It began with a serious twinge. When I tried to do it again, I couldn’t. I grabbed the little guy to repeat the process once he came down and lifted his arms, and my back became the enemy. Refusing to let me do what I’d already done so many times.

I walked toward the rest of the family and understood something wasn’t right. I hurt. I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it–how often had I teased/crabbed at/mocked John for the pain I thought was insignificant?

It became obvious I wasn’t myself. I wasn’t moving as fast. I wasn’t moving at all. One of my kids saw me wince as I sat down. I made a little squawk as I tried to get up.

“Mom hurt her back!”

“Did not!”

Yeah, I did.

Sitting watching others work wasn’t helping. So I pushed. Especially as we were cleaning up to leave our rental. Everyone was telling me to stop, that I didn’t need to. I was going to hurt myself worse and take longer to heal than if I’d just sat.

I pushed–and paid for it. Sleeping became impossible. Getting in and out of bed was a chore I didn’t want to attempt. My exhaustion made everything worse.

I couldn’t help anyone. If I tried, I’d either get scolded by various caring people or my back would spasm and I would make noises and faces that would scare the littles.

I’m not good at resting or being still. I’m really good at staying busy and too often grumbling about how busy I am.

I’m now in a place of enforced rest, not because I want it, even though I need it, but because it’s all I can do.

God has made us whole people: body, mind, heart, soul. We operate as a complete unit. If part of the whole breaks down, we need to pay attention to what needs to be done. Take care of the situation before it gets worse. If we don’t, it’s like driving your car with little red lights twinkling on the dashboard, warning you of a problem, and ignoring it.

No surprise when the car breaks down.

We need to be engaged with the One who made us. Reading the Bible, talking to God, asking the questions on our minds. I too often talk to people about questions when I should be going to the Source.

When I’m hurting, there are often steps I can take to get better. Refusing to do so out of pride or thinking I’m so necessary in the moment doesn’t help anyone.

Refusing to ask God questions about who He is but instead choosing to believe untruths isn’t helpful either.

You’ll still hurt.