This year began very differently than I expected.On January 1st, my daughter threw me a surprise 50th birthday party. It was so much fun, full of laughter, and such a gift. I’ve been counting down the days to turning 50, genuinely excited to celebrate this milestone.
Just two and a half weeks later, I found myself in the ER with excruciating back pain.
Let’s rewind a bit.
I’ve dealt with lower back issues on and off for years. When they flare up, I usually know what to do—ice, essential oils, a few chiropractic visits—and before long, I’m back to normal. But sometime in May, something changed.
At first, it was just an annoyance. A little discomfort that I assumed would resolve itself like it always had. I continued icing and seeing my chiropractor, but I didn’t slow down much else. Instead of improving, it steadily worsened.
Eventually, I had to stop wearing my weighted vest and stop lifting—two things that made me feel strong and confident. I scaled my workouts back to walking only. I wasn’t thrilled, but I told myself it was temporary. Surely a couple of months and I’d be back to normal.
Not this time.
Despite continuing chiropractic care, oils, and rest, progress was unpredictable. There were seasons when things felt better, and in October I was cleared to gently increase activity. I added some beginner Pilates, and for a few days it felt greatl…until it didn’t. The pain crept back in, and I had to pull back again.
Patience has never been my strongest virtue. I like to be strong—physically, mentally, emotionally. But my body simply wouldn’t cooperate. Walking was all I could manage.
By December, I felt hopeful again. Things seemed to be improving, and I thought I was finally turning a corner.
Then January arrived, and with it, pain I couldn’t explain. No matter what I did—or didn’t do—it intensified. Eventually, one morning I called my husband and told him I needed to go to the ER. I have a high pain tolerance, so when I made that call, he knew it was serious.
The diagnosis: a bulging disc.
I was sent home with medication, gentle exercises, and instructions to rest. Resting wasn’t difficult – I could barely move. For the next nine days, I spent most of my time lying down. Standing up or sitting down required immense effort and intense pain. I canceled everything—piano lessons, responsibilities, plans. I hated disappointing my students, but there was no other choice. My body needed a break.
Being laid up like that was discouraging. With too much time to think and very little I could physically do, my thoughts turned inward. Questions surfaced quickly: Why now? Why this? Why would God allow this?
If I’m honest, I was angry. Over the last few years, I’ve faced several physical challenges, and as someone who likes to stay active and strong, it’s been discouraging. This felt unfair and overwhelming.
One particularly difficult morning, my devotional was titled “Power in Weakness.” I couldn’t have chosen a more appropriate topic. It reminded me that God does not make mistakes—that He formed me intentionally and has overseen every single day of my life, including this one.
God knew about this bulging disc long before I did. He knew it would force me to stop, to rest, and to rely on others for even basic needs. He knew the questions I’d wrestle with while lying flat on my back.
As I sat with that truth, something shifted. I began to realize that this trial wasn’t random. God had planned this and was using it to teach me something deeper—something He has been gently working on in my heart for years.
Rest and dependence.
Rest is something I’ve been working on, especially since Jon passed. Dependence, however, is another story. I like to be capable. I like to solve problems, push through discomfort, and manage things on my own. But God continually invites me to a different posture, not self-sufficiency, but surrender.
“My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.” (2 Corinthians 12:9)
This season has stripped me of the illusion of control. I don’t have the option to power through or fix this on my own. I have no choice but to wait, to listen, and to trust that God is at work even when progress feels painfully slow.
This trial did not take God by surprise. In fact, He allowed it for His glory and my good. I don’t fully understand it, and I don’t like it, but I am thankful that He knows exactly what He is doing.
And so my prayer has become simple: that God would use my weakness, my vulnerability, and my forced stillness in whatever way He chooses. That I would learn to lean more fully on Him. And that even in the waiting, the pain, and the dependence, I would trust that His strength is being made perfect in my weakness.
Is there an area of your life right now where God may be inviting you to slow down, release control, and lean on Him more fully?
If you’re walking through grief and need a quiet place to process, I have created resources specifically for you in my Etsy shop, HOPE & HARMONY PAGES. These three digital printables work on their own and hand in hand with each other:
30 SCRIPTURE CARDS FOR GRIEF. If you know someone these might encourage, I would be honored if you’d share these resources—and my blog—with them.
To receive email notifications when a new blog post is live, please subscribe here.
This post may contain affiliate links.
0 Comments