Rough Day

Sunday, March 4, was a hard day for me. I was in so much pain.

I forced myself to get up & go to church but cried most of the time as I felt so hopeless. We had our guest pastor/soon to be part of the church leadership team, Mitchell Lee, preach. He helped me realign my thoughts on the truths of scripture & not the lies the devil was trying to feed me. It wasn’t a death sentence, RSD, just a life-altering sentence. And maybe all my doctors & specialists were wrong. But I’ve been in healthcare for awhile now & knew they were all thinking RSD but no one wanted to explain it or give that diagnosis. Sunday was a dark day for me emotionally. I was tired of being dependent on my wonderful husband to take care of me, the kids, all our needs. I knew he was supportive but tired too. I tried to go to church with just a crutch as people would jokingly ask DJ what he was doing to me & I could see it hurting him each time. He would never hurt me, he lives to protect & care for me. Jokes like that cut deep into the pride of my dear husband but he would laugh it off & only I could see the pain it caused.

So I tried to be less conspicuous with my ailments & used just one crutch, no wrist or ankle boot. After all, nothing was broken, I was better, it just hurt. And then I fell. I tried to get out of the car when my leg went numb, I couldn’t catch myself with my still very sore wrist  & I collapsed. I may not have been a star athlete but I have always considered myself an athlete. That was not a glorious moment in time for me.

DJ scooped me up & carried me to bed. My sons were worried as I was crying.  Crying cause it hurt, crying because of the loss, lots of tears. I probably needed a good cry. Being a mom of all boys DJ has discouraged ‘crying for no reason’ as we want them to be manly men, not wimps. I want them to be sensitive to the needs around them & take action. I want them to feel free to cry for things that would break God’s heart & when they were truly in pain but crying because they had a bad day or things weren’t right seemed like poor reasons for men to cry. I'm raising men, leaders of tomorrow. As their mother they imitate me often & learn my mannerisms.  They have a wonderful manly example of a father yet they were with me for a large portion of they day thus they picked up on my ways. So I altered my “girly emotions” so show them better ways of responding to life’s challenges. Yet I lied in the bed, crying. Sunday was hard.