Giving God the eraser and trusting Him with the results.
by Kathy Pierson
Pain seized my right arm as I lay on the cold cement. My head rested on a pile of snow. My husband ran over to help me to my feet.
“I can’t move yet. My arm hurts too much,” I moaned.
My teeth chattered. The temperature was in the teens, so I had to get off the frozen ground. “Let’s try to get me up now.”
Gary helped me stand, but as I placed weight on my right foot, excruciating pain shot through my pelvis.
Bad fall
We had just stepped out of the house to take photos of the six-foot snow drifts that the wind had whipped up the night before. My foot got tangled in our dog’s tie-out, and when I tried to catch my balance, I plummeted off the porch. My right elbow hit the concrete first as I attempted to protect the camera.
Gary tried to scoop me into his arms, but it was too painful. Desperate to get out of the cold, I managed to raise my heels ever so slightly and rotate sideways on the balls of my feet. I continued this movement a half inch at a time until I reached the steps.
When we finally got inside, Gary ran to get a chair and called 911.
Annual tradition
We had arrived two weeks earlier to do volunteer projects at a facility for mentally impaired adults. For the past seven years we made the trek from our Michigan home to Wisconsin.
Every year, our plan went off without a hitch. But not this time.
Friend’s advice
I held my aching arm and wept. Why God? We’re here to serve in Your name, and we still have a week to go! How could You allow this to happen? How will I teach the women in the drug and alcohol rehab when I get home? How will I continue my studies to become a biblical counselor?
God interrupted my questions to remind me of something a dear friend told me after she broke her hip: “Kathy, every time God allowed a trial in my life, I started the journey kicking and screaming my disapproval. This time, I decided to get in the canoe with Jesus and enjoy the scenery along the way.”
I wasn’t sure I knew how to enjoy the scenery. I liked staying busy and wasn’t very good at being still before the Lord.
Struggle for joy
As I watched rescue workers approach the house, I decided to take my friend’s advice. I took a deep breath and tried to wrap my head around the idea that God had a different plan than mine — and how I could possibly find joy on this journey.
The paramedics took vitals, applied a sling to my arm and placed me in a seated position on the stretcher. As they rolled it across the porch and eased it down to the sidewalk, I gripped the siderail. Four people stabilized it while it bumped and slid down the long driveway. I felt so relieved when they finally lifted me into the warm ambulance.
Bad news
Several hours later, after X-rays and a CAT scan, an orthopedic surgeon entered our cubicle with the results. “Your pelvis is broken but stable,” he said. “The fracture in your right arm is another story. The elbow is shattered. Since it’s so swollen, you’ll have to wait a couple weeks before it can be surgically repaired.”
When the doctor left the room, Gary held me while I cried.
Rough return
After I was discharged, a hospital volunteer rolled my wheelchair to our van and helped me climb inside. When we got back to the house, Gary pulled the van as close as possible. I began the sideways shuffle to the porch.
The temperatures had fallen into the single digits, and a breeze kicked up. My teeth chattered as wind cut through the paper scrubs I put on after my clothes had been cut off in the ER. Gary took off his coat and placed it over my shoulders.
Prayer of faith
That night my husband slept on the couch so he wouldn’t accidentally bump my broken body. As darkness surrounded me, I wondered what purpose God had in allowing this. My fall hadn’t taken Him by surprise, nor had He been distracted and looked away for a minute.
God had a plan. I drifted to sleep praying He would give us strength and wisdom in the days ahead.
New plans
Since I volunteered in the nurse’s station, I could call to borrow a wheelchair, hospital bed, and side table.
While we waited for the maintenance men to deliver the equipment, Gary and I made new plans. We decided to stay in Wisconsin the rest of the week until I was stronger. Then I would follow doctor’s orders and fly to Michigan while Gary drove home in the van with our dog.
Stress
Later that day, I noticed a look of distress on my husband’s face. “How are you doing?” I asked.
“I’m overwhelmed,” Gary answered. “There’s so much to do.”
“What do we have to get done today?” He counted off a few items on one hand.
“Then that’s all we’ll concern ourselves with,” I said. He nodded, but stress lines were still evident.
Blessings list
“Do you remember nine years ago when we started volunteer work?” I asked.
Gary nodded. “We said we would put our plans on the calendar in pencil — and give God the eraser.”
“Maybe this is how we find out if we really meant it.”
Soon thereafter, we started to list the blessings we encountered on this unexpected journey. Every day we added to our blessings list and often referred to it when we felt discouraged.
Back home
Our first night back home in Michigan, I slept on the couch, with the back of the sofa supporting my arm, since the hospital bed wouldn’t be delivered to our home until the next day.
We awoke to sunshine pouring through the windows, but by mid-morning, I was in tears. The flight home had taken more out of me than I realized.
Friends’ support
A friend came to help Gary rearrange the living room furniture to make space for the hospital bed. It felt so good when I could finally snuggle under its covers.
Meals from friends and relatives poured in. Before each person arrived, we asked God to use us in some small way to bless them. Over the next few weeks, God gave us opportunities to encourage and pray for many of them.
Insurance rep
One afternoon we had an appointment with an insurance representative from the facility where I fell. As with other visitors, we prayed that we would be a blessing to her.
Once introductions were made, she sat on the couch facing me and began to ask questions regarding how the fall occurred. When I shared how I had tripped on our dog’s tie-out, she asked, “And who placed it on the porch?”
I glanced at Gary, and he sheepishly said, “I guess that would be me.” We all laughed, and the tension broke.
“You are still covered by the policy,” she assured us with a smile.
At the end of our interview, she said, “Thank you for ending my day on a positive note. This is my last appointment of a very hectic week. Many of the people I deal with have a horrible attitude, but you two have been a pleasure to work with.”
Precious conversations
Another afternoon, I chatted on the phone with a friend suffering from Lou Gehrig’s disease. She had recently moved into the home of her son and daughter-in-law. She could still speak, but her arms and legs were getting much weaker. Like me, she was now in a wheelchair, but unlike me, the abilities she lost would not be reclaimed with time and therapy.
After a particularly meaningful hour encouraging one another, it dawned on me that before my accident, my busy schedule would never have allowed time for these precious conversations.
I marveled at how God could use me to bless others from a hospital bed in the middle of my living room. Turns out, I didn’t need to be busy for the Lord to be used by Him.
A better way
In the coming weeks, I navigated in a wheelchair as my pelvis slowly healed. I also endured surgery to place a plate in my shattered elbow, two months of therapy, eight months wearing splints twice a day to help my arm bend and straighten, and a second operation to have the hardware removed.
I wouldn’t have planned this journey for myself, but God showed me His plans are infinitely better than anything I could imagine. My whole life, I’d been a planner and a doer, but now God let me experience something new — and it was beautiful.
Kathy Pierson has published articles in Power for Living, Nature’s Friend, Women Riders Now, the Broken Moments anthology, Faith on Every Corner, and her local newspaper. She lives in Hendersonville, NC.