So, most people who know me know that coordination is not my strongest suit. It is an inside joke with my friends that I am a "backup point guard" on our basketball team because the thought of that being actually true is so unrealistic that laughs always ensue. I put that in quotes because I am not even sporty enough to be sure if it is a real or fake position.
Yeah, it's bad, y'all.
Don't get me wrong, I love being outdoors and being active. But, I am most well off from the comfort of a nice power walk, maybe a little hiking here and there, but definitely keeping both of my feet on the ground as frequently as possible is key.
It is only really key though if I want to avoid getting injured.
(So probably more important than I like to think ha).
This past Saturday I chose to throw that on the wayside and let things get a lil' cray.
We are talking: lights off, home alone, full laundry basket in hand, basement stairwell, and hugely-uncoordinated-slightly-
Weird combination of things? Yeah, one would think those can't lead to much shenanigans, but my life just isn't that predictable.
There I went, down the dark stairs, sure of the number of steps to the bottom. So sure, in fact, that I made the bold move of taking a nice big 'this is the last step' leap at what turned out to be five steps from the bottom.
Ooops. Queue blood dripping down legs and bruises already showing up by the time I could get back up the stairs to the light.
In a moment of complete embarrassment, I called a dear friend (shout out to Laura, you rock) to drive me to the ER to get everything checked out since everything hurt.
Side note: with this trip to the ER, I totally expected the doctor on call to agree with my judgement that the gash in my knee needed stitches, but he felt more confident in prescribing me band-aids for the dripping blood. Not angry at all that three hours in the ER in the middle of the night ended in a handful of band-aids and a cheap ice bag with all the ice melted.
Besides the frustration I had with the ER, this whole experience taught me so much more about my community and myself than I would have ever thought could come from such a moron-moment.
First, I was reminded of the love my community shows regularly. I was immediately surrounded with love when Laura was more than willing to drop everything to get me to the hospital.
It was not convenient at all in the moment: she was in the middle of making us food for our camping trip the next evening.
It was not convenient with respect to what she was sacrificing: she left at 3:30 a.m. the following morning to hike a 14'er and gave up hours of sleep for me.
Even so, she was there with me, joking and supporting me and providing company while I tried to manage the pain and the worry that I'd have to continue explaining to people how I broke my body by rolling down stairs. She walks, talks, and lives grace as does so much of the community I am blessed to be a part of. That night was such a huge reminder to be thankful for all of the squad. Love y'all.
Second, I was humbled in ways I have not been (or wanted to be) before.
Of course the moment of explaining that story is incredibly humbling because it shows one of my huge weaknesses that I have tried to pray out of my life so many times. I have disliked for a long time that I am not as quick to catch on to sports and athletic and any coordination things as my friends, and this was a reminder of that. But with that reminder came the realization that it is okay to have those weaknesses because of how much glory weakness can give to God. When I handle that lack of skill with grace, God's character shines. In the few miraculous moments when I am decent at something requiring coordination, Lord knows that ain't of myself and He gets all the creds.
In addition to being humbled in that, I was humbled to the position of physical weakness and the new kind of dependence on the Lord that must come in those moments. For the first time, I was not able to make my body move when I needed it to. I was frustrated with the aches, bruises, and bleeding and was getting angry with God and with myself every time that I had to miss out on something because of the pain. This was so so new for me. I have been blessed with very few run ins with debilitating pain or injuries. For the first time, I depended on the Lord to bless me with enough strength to bare with the pain and the emotions that came along with it. He absolutely provided and continues to do so as I try and let my body rest and heal.
All-in-all, an absurd moment of being typical Britt has turned into such a beautiful lesson of love and humility. My body is still not in tip top shape, but the Lord is good and is using this time alone with me to work on my heart while He has my full attention.
Maybe not ideal, but what a great way to make the most of what otherwise seems like just a dork toppling down a flight of stairs?
That being said, I totally don't recommend following my lead in order to find some overwhelming heart change. Much better done with a pal and a cup of coffee than with an ER and a pack of band-aids.
Thanks for loving me in spite of the craziness, squad. You're the bee's knees!
