“It’s almost funny,” I told my daughter.
“Not quite,’ she said somberly.
Four weeks after Jerry’s knee replacement, the day he drove for the first time last week, I took a spill.
Broken arm, stitches on head, and most likely headed for surgery to stabilize elbow. However, a big but here, I have no brain injury. A concern after becoming tangled in wires I didn’t see at a local restaurant and hitting my head on the concrete curb.
Let me repeat, no head injury besides the stitches. So thankful.
Poor Jerry barely able to walk himself is now caring for me.
We’re kind of messes.
Typing with one finger so I’ll get to the point.
I believe God will use these troubles for good. Somehow. Some way.
i'm so very close to getting another book finished and working on a proposal to take to a conference in May so I can pitch the book. Now this. Me and my one finger. Pity party threatens.
I don’t get it, but I know God does.
I read these timely words in Streams in the Desert this morning, “. . . we are to believe that out of this is coming something more for His praise than could have come but for this fiery trial.” and “. . . there is a power that can make us victors in the strife. There are heights to be reached where we can look down and over the way we have come, and sing our song of triumph on this side of Heaven.”
So, despite these circumstances, I aim to put on the garment of praise. James said, “Consider it a sheer gift, friends, when tests and challenges come at you from all sides. You know that under pressure, your faith-life is forced into the open and shows its true colors” (James 1:2-4 The Message).
I want my true colors to point to Jesus. Always.
So friends, maybe, you too are in your own version of trial today, let’s press in together to His presence and power and sing that song of triumph.
So, maybe it’s not funny, but we can still have joy.
p.s. After I wrote this post yesterday, I received a call from my doctor and the verdict is in . . . no surgery on the arm. Yeah!