Blessing in Disguise

 Sixteen weeks. That's how long it has been since I broke my leg. I'm still wearing the boot and using the walker, but I have recently been able to put weight on it. I cannot begin to say how much joy it brings. My hands have sore calluses from bearing my weight on hard walker handles. Now I only use the walker to steady myself. My leg and ankle muscles are quite weak from disuse. In two weeks I get another set of x-rays and am hoping they will say I no longer have to wear the boot. I will still need the walker for some time until my muscles have strengthened. But that will come. 

A week or two back I had a long conversation with my pastor. One of the topics we touched on was the accident. She remarked that I seemed to be more at peace. I am, and that is no accident. We agreed God did not cause me to break my leg, but the accident wasn't prevented by Divine intervention either. It's pretty clear it was a life-changing event. Faced with an extended leave of absence, eventually money would have run out. I was forced to take early retirement.

The job I had was fast-paced and demanding. I was there for over sixteen years. During those years I worked with five managers with enough temperamental differences I sometimes suffered mental whiplash. Bipolar disorder made it even more challenging. One particular boss had little patience. I struggled during her tenure with a complete breakdown. And medications were making me forgetful. I had to take an extended leave of absence to save my job. I am very fortunate my employer was sympathetic and I was not terminated. A lot of people with mental illness suffer job loss even with the ADA. I will always be grateful for the library standing by me. 

This broken leg, as trying as it has been, has resulted in my no longer having to take blood pressure medication. I also get better sleep. And even when sleep isn't good, I no longer face a high stress eight hour day with diminished mental acuity and physical stamina. Yes, God didn't cause it, but he allowed it. He understood my anxieties and steered me in the direction I needed to go. 

A verse from Psalm 139 came to mind this morning: ...all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. God knows our comings and goings. He hems us in from every side. I could wish my leg had never been broken, but I would have continued on the same path and stayed in turmoil. Instead, God used my misfortune to rescue me and put my life on a new trajectory. Contrary to some teachings, blessings rarely mean money, ease, and a carefree life. Jesus said blessed are the poor. I now see my accident as a blessing and I thank God. His blessings truly make rich the soul.