When I was first diagnosed with MS it was just weeks before Christmas. I remember falling apart – completely. I remember feeling totally sorry for myself. I remember crying into my pillow and into the crook of my husband’s arm. If I had to choose between living that moment over and eating a live beetle – I’d likely choose the beetle.
I busted my butt on Christmas Eve trying to walk across the floor to retrieve the gift tape. Thankfully this was funnier than it was butt-shattering. But boy did it sting!
Funny though you know . . . how falling has a weird effect on us women . . .
We have this gender-driven desire to keep moving – to GET UP. We need to keep things going. We need to take care of people, things, life . . . for heaven’s sake – there is laundry to do and likely a fight to break up somewhere in the house! 🙂
So in falling hard, like all of you other women out there, falling did something amazing for me – it made me look up. And when I DID look up, I saw not only the direction God would have me set my gaze . . .
But I also saw the faces.
“MOMMY! Are you ok?!” – five little inquiring minds want to know.
Ok. I thought. Was I really ok? Physically, yes. Aside from a bruised butt, walking into walls and watching the room spin round like a top – I was ok. But emotionally, I was a wreck.
“I’m ok.” I smiled even though I wasn’t yet. I knew I would be. I noted Santa had best leave me one of those donut pillows that my cousin Mary Beth had to use when she actually broke her tuckus bone cheer-leading when we were kids. Poor Mary Beth will never live that down!
Falling hard was the start of Mary Beth’s funny looking donut butt pillow – and for me? It was the start of looking up again.
It was the moment that I decided to trade in my sweats and put on my makeup when I went to the hospital for treatments.
It was at that moment I knew I would keep being the wife my husband deserved. Who cared if she was off balance any how – that meant she could be wrapped in his arms more often.
It was the moment I decided I’d keep on doing the things I loved even if it meant doing them different now and then.
It was the moment I decided poor-pitiful-me wasn’t going to fly anymore. Not if I wanted to learn to fly with my new wings of faith.
If you would have asked me two years ago if I was strong enough – I would have told you no. And it would have been the truth. But the more I live the more I learn that I’m stronger than I ever realized and that’s all because I have a Savior who knows I am far too weak to handle this alone. And that’s why He’d never let me.
Now I certainly still have my moments – I fall physically, I fall spiritually – emotionally especially! But I’ve learned that falling NEVER means I’m down for the count. And you, my friend, you aren’t either.
No matter what you are going through, take heart. When you fall, look up.
See the faces?
They will become the reason you are stronger than you know.