Earlier this month, my mom sent me an email with “anniversary” in the subject line.  I was intrigued.  Had I missed one?  When I opened the email, I found that my mom was referring to the date I broke my ankle three years ago.  She asked if it ever hurt or got swollen, etc.  It doesn’t–it healed so well that sometimes I forget which I ankle I broke.  It’s odd to me that I can look back on that “summer of the broken ankle” and see it as a happy time. 

     I couldn’t drive.  I couldn’t go to work.  My mom did my laundry and my grocery shopping.  My boyfriend at the time (now husband) came to visit me and brought me little presents to cheer me up.  I had my first full week off from work in two years.  What did I do?  I settled into a routine of resting, napping, reading, crocheting and watching DVDs.  I finished a record number of books, and two full-sized afghans.  I got excited when my boyfriend brought me fresh beans from the garden because it gave me something new to do–snap beans.

     When I went back to work, there was a mixture of relief and more stress.  Our handicapped accessible entrance was not very accessible, and I had a difficult time getting up to the 3rd floor where I worked.  I had to hobble my way to the door on crutches and then down a myriad of hallways to the elevator.  I couldn’t manage stairs on crutches.  I was frustrated much of the time because I needed to much help, and I thought it should be obvious.  Eventually, I learned to ask for help and people were quick to jump in and assist me. 

     From my very first day back, there was one woman, whose name I did not even know at the time, who went out of her way to help me.  She would hold doors and hunt down the building wheelchair and take me where I needed to go.  I also remember a co-worker that I did not know very well getting me a big, cold iced tea at the cafeteria, delivering to my desk with a straw and the words, “My treat.”  Another coworker and her husband took me to the bookstore one day after work.  Her husband carried my books and my purse while I managed my crutches.  I remember all of those kindnesses and I see how God used that time in my life to show me he was caring for me in many ways large and small.  It was hard to be so dependent on others, but God blessed me with the people around me and provided everything I needed.

     Similarly, I remember many years before this when I was in elementary school, my mother broke her foot and was house ridden for a while.  I know this must have been difficult for her, and physically painful, but what do I remember?  I remember being excited that Mom was home.  I remember reading her a good chunk of The Little House books when we got tired of watching television.  God can take out times of physical pain when we are “sidelined” from our regular lives and bring good from them. 

     Most of this afternoon, I haven’t moved much except from sofa to bed, and bed to sofa.  Once again, I am trying to teach myself to rest, to take it easy, and to trust that the things that need to get done will get done.  I have received many caring and encouraging text messages and phone calls from family and friends.  I accept these and reassurances of God’s care over all aspects of my life.