It’s been a few weeks since my last post (hello life). I’d like to take a moment to share some lessons I’ve been learning lately. It ties back to a somewhat recent post on work, where I wrote about being a learner vs. teachable. “Being teachable requires the flexibility and humility to learn from unexpected situations and difficult circumstances.” (Guess I’m still learning that.)

I’ve been alive for nearly four decades, and I can’t remember a time where I felt more in need of physical healing. Almost ten years ago, I was diagnosed with Celiac Disease. While it’s taken a lot of effort and advocacy, it’s been somewhat easy to navigate (just don’t eat gluten, and the symptoms stay at bay). Aside from having colds here and there, and a few childhood illnesses, I (thankfully) hadn’t had too many physical health struggles. 

Except for the past two weeks. I was able to find a new PCP that takes my insurance, and had my first appointment at the end of April. It was fairly routine, aside from the fact that they wanted me to use some over-the-counter drops for some slightly excessive ear wax. That would have been fine, except that something went terribly wrong. Wax and/or fluid built up, and after a week, I lost hearing in my left ear. And it hasn’t come back (yet).

I took myself to urgent care on Mother’s Day (not how I anticipated celebrating the holiday). I was prescribed drops and an antibiotic (which I tried to fight because of gut health, and was simply instructed to eat sauerkraut). Fast-forward a few days, and I still couldn’t hear. I was able to schedule a follow-up appointment at my new doctor’s office. They took a culture, prescribed a different ear drop, and comforted me as I cried that I was scared my hearing wouldn’t come back. She assured me it would, and sent me on my way. 

She called yesterday to let me know the cultures came back negative (yay – no bacterial infection), but she also sent a referral to an ENT because I still can’t hear. (And now we wait, because insurance.)

This whole ordeal has made work and life difficult because I am hearing everything through one ear, and things seem completely off-balance. (I hate it.) It has taught me not to take things for granted, and created a desperation in me for healing. I just want to hear again. I feel like it’s close – when I yawn or burp, it’s like it’s trying to clear up. Praying it’s sooner than later, and before my appointment next week where they may try to flush it out (which, in the past, has caused me to faint).

All of this has been happening while dealing with all the other major stressors that are in my life (finances, family, advocating for my kids and navigating their health concerns, career path, getting ready to send my daughter off to college, vet visits and teeth extractions… the list goes on). 

Which brings me to Saturday; we were having a rough evening with our kids. I needed to get out of the house and wanted to go for a run to try to de-stress. Running has once again become an outlet for me in the past two months, something I look forward to in my day. The increasing temps of California’s Central Valley have made it somewhat harder to stay disciplined, and I had taken a break because of my (temporary) hearing loss. 

I should have listened to my body; I don’t think I was ready to hit the pavement, and ended up crashing into it instead. 

Years ago, while running on a treadmill, I had learned my lesson (twice) – never run while angry. Twice, after arguments with my husband, I foolishly fell off the treadmill while trying to run off some steam. It was painful, but I feel like I bounced back fairly quickly. It was nothing like my encounter last Saturday.

I took three of my kids out for a “bike/run” – they bike, I run (aka jog). We turned down the busiest street first to get it over with – you know, while I had the most energy. I had thought I was more stressed than angry at this point, but I think my off-balance ear issue also came into play. We were running parallel with the busy street, cars speeding by at 45+ mph. We had to cross a side-street, and there was a light post on the corner of the sidewalk. I don’t know why I panicked, but I did. My kids went one way on their bikes, I went another, and in an effort to avoid the cars driving past at me and the light post next to me, I tripped over my own feet and skidded off the sidewalk and into the street. Thankfully, not into traffic, but also it was wildly embarrassing as I provided a source of painful entertainment as the cars drove by. (I’m pretty sure I looked like one of the penguins that bounce on Mario Kart when they glide across the ice.)

Thanks to a combination of shock, dread, and adrenaline, I jumped to my feet and kept running. My middle son, who was next to me at the time, made sure I was okay. I don’t think my eldest daughter, leading the way, even saw what happened. And I just kept running. We did our normal 1-mile route before returning home, wincing every step of the way.

The worst part – I was listening to music (in my good ear) and was therefore carrying my phone. My left hand was sore from breaking my fall. But my right hand? It was holding my phone, and my instinct was to save my phone. And so, I caught myself with my right wrist all the way to my elbow… completely scraped up. It was incredibly painful, and has continued to be. (As soon as I got home – yes, I purchased a new arm band for my phone.)

The healing process for my arm has been slow and awful. Using ointments and aloe and oils to help speed up the process stings. like. no. other. And whether I bump it at work or someone runs into it at home, it is simply not a fun journey. I’m certain I bruised some ribs as they also caught me when I fell and are tender to the touch (and when I laugh). 

As I sat in my counselor’s office yesterday, I wept as there are a variety of major stressors I’m dealing with, and now I’ve added in two fairly present things that are affecting my physical health (one on my left side and one on my right). As I’m getting older, it’s taking more time (and energy and patience) to heal. And these injuries and ailments are taking the time and focus away from the emotional healing I know I need to tend to. 

All of this to say: I’m here. Feeling like I’m treading water with extra weights that are dragging me down; getting weary, but trying my best to not give up. I’m here, trying to hold space for all the things, attempting to be teachable when I’m not in control of what I’m learning.

In honor of Mental Health Awareness Month, I want to leave you with a random but favorite truth: it’s more than okay to have Jesus and a therapist. Don’t let anyone try to convince you otherwise. Seek out the support systems you need and deserve. You’re not meant to walk this road alone.

Also, I want to share something practical – my favorite current musician (aside from my husband). My kids have gotten me hooked on Forrest Frank. No matter what kind of mood I’m in, the lyrics and music make me so happy and get my eyes back on the Lord (and not in a compartmentalizing or judgy kind of way). If you haven’t listened yet – don’t wait. His new album Child of God II is out now (and Child of God is just as good). And if you can see him in concert – go; Jon and the kids went last month and had an amazing experience.  

Finally, for more thoughts on healing, check out The Father Who Heals ❤️