By Barb Winters

My eyes widen. My voice quivers. My hands shake. My husband tries helping me up the stairs, to no avail. My mind wills my foot to move, but it will not do its job. Panic sets in as I absorb this new development. And I lose it! My body writhes in pain and my emotions follow. An involuntary shriek escapes my mouth and more tears roll down my cheeks as a sharp sting pierces my lower back.

I desperately reach for God, knowing He is the answer. But my circumstances encompass me. I can't leave the moment long enough to see the Answer. Will I ever walk again? Will this pain ever subside? Will I be capable of raising my children? Will my husband resent me?

God...I know in my head that you are there...but I can't see You or feel You in my heart.

Through gritted teeth I tell Him...You know how hard I have worked to strengthen my lower back. I have made fixing myself a priority - almost to a fault. I have stretched and walked. I have drunk gallons of water and flooded my body with supplements. I have spent money on mattresses and chiropractors. So why? Why? Why is this happening again? What can I do?

If I had the strength, I would shake my fist at God. Moments later, as I lay in bed, I cry. Not the whimpering kind - the wailing kind. I am a crier. As I cry on the outside, I also cry out to God on the inside.

I'm sorry, God. I'm sorry I am not taking this better. A "real" Christian wouldn't allow this to bother her so much. I'm sorry I am mad at You. I know I shouldn't be.

My tears slow down and a deeper thought arises: God, I'm scared.

"Shhhh, my child," is my answer. I almost feel Him stroking my hair. Just breathe. In...out...in...out. Knowing I can't control the future, I center my thoughts on the present. For now, it is enough to just keep breathing.

*****

That night, I hear "pwoooo . . .pwooo." I chuckle. For such a big guy, my husband has a wimpy snore. "Honey." I hate to wake him. "I have to use the restroom." Groggily, Don reaches for the walker our friends loaned us. I gingerly stand, leaning heavily on the contraption. He moves it three inches. I shuffle forward, three more inches and shuffle, three more inches and shuffle. I am grateful for our attached bathroom.

Back in bed, I lay motionless in the fetal position. The pain subsides to a dull throb. My emotions settle. But my selfish desire for "wellness" surfaces. My controlling nature rears its ugly head.

What did I do wrong? What did I eat? How could I have prevented this? How can I speed the recovery? What product will take away the pain fastest without leaving residual effects?

Realization hits. I allow my back issue to haunt me. These thoughts are strongholds. I allowed the enemy to enter my life, slowly, but surely.

Stewing accomplishes nothing. "Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?" (Matt. 6:27) Previous hours of worry did not prevent this episode. Agonizing will not take away the pain. Anxiety cannot keep me on my feet. God has spoken. "I am the Lord, and there is no other." (Isaiah 45:18)

Lord, please forgive me for trying to take your place. By trying to control my circumstances, I am trying to be God of my own life. It's not working! And it's wrong! Fear and selfishness block my vision of You. Dissipate these clouds. I surrender to Your will. I accept my current condition.

God is sovereign. Each time I bow to this thought, God chips away a little bit of me and replaces it with Him. He draws me closer as more of me disappears. And in His sovereignty, He is compassionate and kind. This very kindness leads me to repentance. (Rom. 2:4) My muscles relax as I remember these truths. Sleep surrounds me as I choose to rest in His arms.


Barb and her husband, Don, have four children, Kevin, JT, Kenneth, and Melinda. Barb home schools her children and encourages her husband in his pastorate position. Her passion is ministering to ladies. Her purpose is to glorify God. Follow Barb's blogs at foodliesandtruth.blogspot.com and thefatherheartofgod.blogspot.com.