One Step

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If you are ever wondering how many steps you have to miss  to tear a calf muscle and sprain your knee and ankle, the answer is:  Just one.

It’s been a long and painful month of recovery.  But I’ve learned a lot about being humble, letting others help me, and forcing myself to sit still.

 

Being hurt has forced me to focus on what’s right in front of me. It’s calmed my heart and soul to sit down longer than usual, read longer than usual, engage in conversation without busying myself with a million tasks that are always in the back of my mind.

The longer than I hoped for recovery process has not been fun, but I can say for certain, I’m learning a lot about humility most of all. Repeating the “I just missed one step” story over and over is pretty humbling. Traveling through airports via wheelchair-humbling.  I’m more strong willed and independent than I thought. I don’t like to need help. I’m learning that receiving help graciously is almost as important as giving it.

My darling husband, who is so giving and gracious, looked at me when I refused his help the other day and said, “Are you sure this isn’t about your pride? Because you really need my help right now.”  I hit him with my crutch and conceded.  That was painful. He was right.

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The days have been interesting since I took that misstep, for sure.

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 There have been days I have felt like this:

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20131002-084942.jpg I’m trying to find a healthy balance between both.  

Taking one misstep can cause more damage than I ever thought possible. This isn’t some metaphoric lesson, but you can take it that way if you need to.  Just be careful walking down your stairs at 6am before you’ve had coffee.

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