I have been putting in some serious hours at home and at the actual office doing physical therapy for this very stubborn neck of mine. Surgery was December 5th, and while the disc is fully fused and my spine is healed, the muscles are still angry. My physical therapist said they felt like guitar strings on the first day. For someone who doesn’t hold much back, I actually have been private about some of my recovery struggles. Every day I have to will myself to be positive. At one doctor’s visit, while discussing some of my issues, he looked at me and said very matter-of-factly, “Kathryn, yes, of course this is difficult. You are disabled.” I don’t think he meant to bring me down. He has actually be an incredible physician. But I think he knew that until I saw this as a long-term issue, and re-adjusted my expectations, I was going to continue living in a constant state of disappointment. Which is true. I struggle everyday, because I’m never sure if I’m setting realistic goals for myself or not, and when I can’t meet them, I’m devastated.
So, saving some of the ugly details, am just going to tell you that things haven’t been all roses at View from the Hills. It will still be quite some time before my neck understands how to hold up my head properly and we will continue to teach it, day by day. I keep wanting to share, but sometimes, when your emotions are too raw, it gets so hard. Yet I love this little blog. I love hearing that other people understand (or don’t, too). I love looking back over the years to see what has changed. I love talking about how God is moving in my life, most of all, because His hand is everywhere-if I allow it.
About a week ago, in the car, during an especially painful day, I had several things on my mind. Lately I’ve been wondering how and when we will be able to adopt now that we have been railroaded. We thought we would be a “waiting family” (with a completed homestudy) by the new year, and here we were, still waiting to schedule our final interviews. I was listening to a song that I am getting ready to sing in church (music MUST be my Love Language). The song is called Lay It Down, referring to the scripture that tells us to cast all of our cares on the Lord, because He cares for us (Psalm 55:22). While I was listening to that, I was relating it to what I had just studied, a very simple yet profound concept, about how important it is to call out to God in times of trouble. Praying is not a new concept to me, however, I realized that I had not given this very big thing to Him. I’m much better at remembering to pray for other people, because, sometimes their troubles just seem more…troublesome. In fact, as I drove along and prayed, I told God something very true and hard to even write out: I didn’t know how to do it. I didn’t even know what it meant to “cast*this particularly cumbersome*burden on Him”. That is religious talk that I have to admit I do not understand how to actually live it, so I told that to God out loud in my minivan. I cried then, and I’m crying now. I mean, it’s not like I can stop doing my part. It’s not like I can stop needing medication for pain. It’s not like I know when or how I should complete the homestudy. So what is the “casting”? I think God is ok with our honesty, because even in my frustration, my goal really, truly is His glory. It is. I want to get on with the things that I know we as a family were called to do and it makes me crazy that I am barely capable of shopping for groceries for my family! How can I do God’s work if I can’t hold my head up?? I kept thinking of this verse:
Really!? How can I praise you in this condition?? Of course, we all know that that is a ridiculous question. Our God can bring beauty from ashes. Who am I to judge what condition I have to be in to praise Him? However, I do know that we have been called to be adoptive parents, and I know that I will not be approved to be one without healing, so I have become very impatient.
I came to the conclusion that to cast this particular burden on him (this heaping pile of burden) means to say that I will continue to do my part, trusting that You, God, are sovereign. You are in control. I will not fret. I will not worry that all is lost, because I have now given up control (as if I ever had it to begin with!).
And then, after a month of depressing monotony, things began happening!