A Year of Swollen Legs

A year ago, Sunday, November 22nd, I was on my way to share at some teammate’s church outside of Richmond, VA about the Lottie Moon Christmas offering. It is the offering that allows for there to be over 5,000 missionaries around the world with the IMB. As I was walking to the car, one of the kids at the training center asked me where I was going and told me she liked my dress. It was a dark blue satin dress with white swirls along the hem of the dress. I was also wearing my favorite black high heels with some earrings that were a gift from my Papa Bob. I had curled my hair. I told her I’d be back after lunch and that I’d come back to find her, so we could play together that afternoon. I didn’t make it back to see her though.

The big one year mark. Something about anniversaries seem to capture us whether they are good or bad ones. Today is my one year anniversary of my car accident. I feel a little emotional (well a lot) and a little overwhelmed (also a lot- if I’m being honest) as I look back over this past year. A year ago I was so ready to go to Spain. During training we would talk about Paul and whether or not he went to Spain and my heart would ache as would beg the Lord that I’d go. I’d almost be in tears as I thought about something happening to not let me go. I would quickly dismiss my thoughts and tell myself to stop being paranoid. But something did happen that did it’s best to keep me from going.

I haven’t made it this far without strong reminders of what happened a year ago. I have light scarring on my face from where glass had cut me. My chin slightly sticks out more than usual because of the metal plate that helped stabilize my once broken jaw. Where the jaw bone was broken slightly sticks out on my chin line. One side of my mouth is still numb and drags a little bit if you know to look for it. My teeth are slightly discolored from the apparatus that was in my mouth for 6 weeks while it was wired shut. My knees are scarred as are a few other parts of my legs from the surgeries and the placement of pins and nails. Parts of my legs are still numb from possible permanent nerve damage. My right calf still has a bruise and several muscles remain hard and injured even after a year. My legs and ankles still swell and have more or less been swollen for a year now (and will be for a bit longer). Even though my pain level has gotten better, I still ache or have nights where I can’t get comfortable because of my muscles or bones. I am regularly stiff. The old ladies in the metro are faster than me going down the stairs (what a blow to the ego). As of now I still do not have the ability to get down on my knees and pray because it hurts too much. And my Bible is still stained with my blood.

Some of the things I’ve mentioned are vanity or things that will continue to improve. They are the things I notice and no one can see them. I’m quite the perfectionist so some of these things have left me in tears at times as I’ve obsessed over them. Something though about my blood stained Bible brings me back to the important things. The things that matter. The things that cost us something.

The Gospel costs something. The good news is that a sacrifice has been made for us and freedom is within our reach only through our Savior. I will fight until the day I die for this Gospel. I pray that I walk in a righteous manner so that I can continue to share it. I pray that I don’t get distracted by this world. There have been things in my short 25 years that God has asked me to walk away from, and I have. Some things took more time than others and sometimes because I didn’t immediately obey. I paid the price for that lack of obedience.

But the thing is that my heart is his. I can’t deny how he has changed my heart. I can’t deny the hope he’s given me. To deny this is to deny my existence, and I just can’t bring myself to do that. No matter the heartache. Awhile back I was in my car talking to God. And I told him that if he just tells me what he wants me to do, I’ll do it. So here I am. An accident didn’t change what he told me to do. It just meant I had to fight harder to follow him. I can’t walk away from this. Some may think I’m a fool. Some may question how I can still follow a God who has allowed for these “bad” things to happen.

I’ll still follow him because he is good. In reality no matter how good of a person I am, I’m still at fault, and I still do wrong. These trials are not meant to push us away from him but to draw us near if only we’d let it. The other night I was reading in my journal kind of wondering to myself “what was I thinking a year ago before this happened?” Little did I know and strangely enough, I had already made up my mind about how I was going to deal with this trial.

Journal excerpt October, 21, 2009

Make me fall more and more in love with you, so that everything else around me fades away until I can no longer see it. I hate to ask for it, but make me experience sacrifice. I must forsake all things to show my love for you and that you’re the one I follow…

Journal excerpt October 22, 2009

Make yourself real to me. Let me experience you in a way as never before. I pray I am always subject to you always. Please let me have a peace in the midst of the trials ahead…

I didn’t remember writing those things until I looked back at them a few days ago, and I was blown away. And I struggled through those things as well. Was this really the way I needed to learn whatever it is that I need to learn? Why like this? Other people get to learn these lessons in a seemingly less painful way… right? The questions go on and go, and many times I have to fight to silence them in my head.

I don’t have the answer for these things, honestly. And unless I hear the answer from God, there’s not an answer anyone on this earth can give me that’s sufficient. Not because opinions and godly counsel don’t matter, it’s just something that I’m dealing with God about (more like what he’s dealing with me about). I fear that when people (myself included) try to put a value on it all or pinpoint exactly the “why” we lose the value of what God may want to show. So here I stand. I stand ready for the answer while realizing this side of heaven I may never know. I stand ready to serve because I can’t imagine my life any other way. I stand broken because God uses the broken to do his work. But I stand. I’m his. He loves me despite the wrestling I do. He loves me even though I cry out to him “why” all of the time. He is patient and longsuffering.

I’ve done a lot of soul searching and asking as this day has approached. I have questioned and demanded answers from the people that were there the night of the wreck at the hospital (they have been kind enough to entertain my curiosity). I have asked them what happened, what they knew, what I said to them in the following days. I’ve learned some things and even a year later have remembered things that were lost in the midst of a fog of pain and medicines. It’s also shed some light on the way in which the Holy Spirit seemingly took over and gave me the grace to treat the people around me kindly.

I’m learning what it means to look at what I’ve been through and to say, okay God… you are worth this. Because last time I checked this little incident cost me a lot and it will continue to cost me. So it’s hard. Without the Holy Spirit I can’t do this. So I stay awake at night trying to figure out how God is at work and how I continue to be in the midst of that. Not easy to do, but I don’t know any other way to walk through this than with him. To walk this alone would make me a fool. Thank you for those of you who have shared trials in your life with me. They remind me that I’m not alone and I’m not the first one to walk down a difficult path. Your stories challenge me and encourage me. Thank you for walking righteously. If anyone else has a story they’d like to share, please send me an email (taryneb@yahoo.com) Through you I am reminded that we are never alone. Thanks for your prayers over this past year and please keep them coming! They are a blessing and help in more ways than you or I know.

In Him,
Taryn