“I’m no different than anyone else whose experienced a freak accident. I’ve replayed it in my mind over and over. Could I have done something different to avoid this mishap? Perhaps. But it almost seems like the stars were perfectly aligned for this catastrophe. One minute all is normal in the Reiter home and the next, life is instantly altered.
I lay here in bed wondering how to make sense of this major setback in life. Does God want me to slow down? Is He trying to tell me something? What is He trying to show me? There’s gotta be a point to all this. I mean seriously, all of my responsibilities, and everything I need to get done, there’s just got to be a reason. This can’t be all for nothing.
The intensity of the pain is often unbearable. I’ve never experienced pain like this. And it’s not the kind of pain that can be easily distracted. It throbs. And it throbs nonstop. Oh, I have pain pills that offer minimal and temporary relief. But if I am honest, I just anticipate the return of this agony once they wear off.
But what’s worse than the pain is my inability to care for myself. Don’t get me wrong, I have the perfect caretaker in my unrelenting and devoted husband. And he’s patient, understanding, and has a bedside manner I wish all health providers would emulate. But I struggle, relying on others. It’s hard for me. It’s frustrating. It’s humbling.
So here I am. Pretty much confined to my bed, agonizing pain, immobile, needing help for the most menial tasks and trying to make sense of it all.
I have been praying lots. Asking God to take away the pain, or at least, just alleviate it. It consumes my whole body and is constant. “God, I’m not sure of the point here.” “I can somewhat make sense of everything else, but why the pain?”
Pain. Do I really comprehend pain. Am I really suffering? The gentle whisper of the Father is loud enough for me to hear. My mind drifts to scenes of the cross. A bloodied Savior beaten to unrecognizable. Scourged until His flesh was gone. A crown of thorns pressed so hard on His brow that blood streamed down His face like tears. Beaten and whipped as if He was some unruly animal. Stripped of His dignity He lye suffering in excruciating pain on that cross. For me. He did this for me. A simple woman who He calls daughter.
He saw me that day and He sees me now. He gets every emotion I experience. He understands my frustrated heart and tired body and He simply says, “Kelli, I see you.” “This pain will not be in vain because I don’t ever waste a suffering.”
God has allowed this into my life. This is a season of unknowns. But I have a hunch that this season will move me closer to my Savior. This is a season of hearing my Father’s voice better than ever. Completely humbled and totally surrendered, through pain and tears I hear His voice like never before. And suddenly, I have a clear glimpse into the why of my accident. “