tender mercies = hope

Sep 16, 2013

I went to church yesterday – three weeks in a row for me which is super exciting. One of the worst parts of this whole injury adventure has been missing church so often. There have been many, many weeks where my body is not able to make it through the whole three hours.

Anyway, while I was sitting in Sunday School in my magic chair my sympathetic nervous system response was triggered and my limbs started going numb, heart was racing, and my brain felt so strange. I don’t really know what triggered it. My hip was hurting quite a bit more than normal. It dislocated last Tuesday and hasn’t felt very well since then, but I thought I would be fine sitting in my chair.

Well, after a while I thought I was fine and had Richard move my stuff to my next meeting, Relief Society. I continued to feel a little weird, but not too bad, so I really thought I was okay, but I wasn’t. When he came back to get me I passed out in his arms. He held me for a while until I thought I was okay again and Blythe brought the car over to the side of the building we were on. I took a few steps out to the hallway and collapsed right in the middle of a group of people – clear to the floor. I am sure my dress was skewampus and my underwear was probably showing and drool was probably running out my mouth. Oh my. I hate it when that happens. I am an extrovert extreme and I don’t mind attention being showered on me, but I REALLY don’t like this kind of attention. I hate frightening people and I hate causing a scene and I hate being so completely incapable of getting myself where I want to go. I was told three men got me out to the car and Blythe and Richard got me into bed where I stayed for the rest of the day with numb arms and legs.

I am so, so tired of this whole body falling apart thing, but even in the midst of this experience, my heart is overwhelmed with the reality of my blessings. There have been numerous blessings, far too many to count, that have come because of this injury. Here is a tender mercy from last night.

One of the men who got me to the car brought over warm Snickerdoodle cookies last night. I felt super loved and want to shower them with streamers and confetti. It is amazing to me how many thoughtful people there are in the world. That little bit of cookie magic did much to wipe away my children’s fears and bring some laughter and hope into their lives. It has to be incredibly scary for my children, even my big girls, to watch their mother collapse right in front of their eyes time and time again. They have seen me seize, pass out, be unable to walk, sob in pain, have endless doctor’s appointments, seen Richard cry for me and with me, heard public prayers for me, and so much more. As much as I try to protect them from the whole thing, they know their mother is not the bastion of strength and fortitude they used to think she was. Don’t all children think their parents are invincible? Don’t we all want to believe our parents can do anything and protect us from all foes. Well, I think a large part of that has been erased for my children and I weep for that part of childhood being whisked away. But last night, after a long day of fears, they were given a bit of magic. They know they are loved and that our family is in God’s hands. They know we are prayed for. They know their mother will keep smiling and keep reading to them and keep playing games with them, even when she is in pain. They know that their church community will reach out to them. They know their father will do everything he can for them. They haven’t lost hope, that powerful belief that changes everything, yet…and I intend to do everything I can to help them always have it.

And the cookies are part of that…thank you to the Hansen family…you guys are gems!