Sunshine & Scrambled Eggs: A Post of Praise

Good morning, readers! Today's post should probably be a journal entry. Instead, I'm choosing to share it with you. As you may know, I've spent nearly four years re-learning everything I thought I knew about health and fitness, falling in love with exercise, embracing whole foods, and losing 157 pounds. Eight days ago, I underwent the first of two planned surgeries to remove the excess skin left behind. I've shared some of this in recent posts. But today's post is different.

Today I'm writing, for the first time since my surgery, in my sunroom, while eating scrambled eggs and honey toast I made for myself. This is a milestone. Slowly but surely, I'm regaining independence and mobility while my body continues to heal a 24-inch incision and re-adhere my skin to my muscle wall. This recovery journey is far from over, but I feel safe in saying, I've made it through the worst of it and I felt God's divine protection and healing every step of the way.

This is a post of praise!

Before heading into surgery, I'd done a ton of research. As in, I'd been watching other people's stories of surgery and recovery for probably a year and a half before having my own. I knew what to expect, what could go wrong, what questions to ask, what recovery supplies to buy. I was prepared, as well as anyone could be, to have drains for multiple weeks, to walk hunched over for a month, to sleep in a chair for a month or more. I knew recovery would be uncomfortable if not outright painful. And yet, I'd pushed through pain before. I knew I could do it. But the thing is, I haven't been doing it alone.

Since waking up from anestheia, I've been able to get up out of the chair on my own, sit, use the bathroom, wipe, even stand-up in the shower rather than sitting down. I never experienced unbareable pain. I had the walker, the shower stool. I had all the things. The one thing I didn't account for before going under was I also had God.

Eight days post-op, I'm walking and standing straight with both drains removed. I'm cooking, cleaning, functioning at a much higher percentage than I should be right now. There are still milestones I'm waiting for, like being able to sleep on my side in my bed, wash clothes for myself, drive, and return to church and the gym. But to be where I am today, I know that God has been with me.

I am so thankful for His presence, for His protection, for His angels that surround me and steady my steps, and for my prayer warriors. There have been so many people praying for me, just as there were so many people cheering me on in the gym. I am so thankful.

This surgery, this recovery, could have been so much worse. And that's the song I will sing. God has time and time again shown up and saved me from situations that could've been so much worse. That doesn't mean I'm unscathed or unscarred. What it means is, I'm still here. And so are you.

Even in the moments when we don't feel favored, God is with us.

I recently lost my eleven-month-old nephew to terminal cancer, a disease that seems to haunt my family. Moments like that, and like losing my dad eight years ago, make me feel like my family is cursed. The longer I wait for a husband, a family of my own, to enter the next season of my life, I feel cursed. But despite the heartbreak, God has been with me through those losses too, enough that I can still sing "it could've been so much worse."

Can you imagine? Losing someone you love is the worst. And yet, there are silver-linings in death. There's the time you had to cherish, even though you lived with the knowledge that it wouldn't last. There's the relief from suffering your loved one feels. There's the breath you get to take when it's all over, when there are no more hospital visits and scary updates. It still hurts. It still haunts. But it still could've been so much worse.

I am thankful, Lord, for all the ways you've shown up for me. I am thankful that even in tragedy you give me perspective that keeps me from feeling abandoned by You.

Today's silver-lining is sunshine and scrambled eggs. It's getting to sit in a chair other than the one I've been sleeping in, to feel well-enough to wipe down my kitchen countertops, load the dishwasher, and cook for myself, to enjoy the sunshine that I've missed from a room I love.

What is your silver-lining?

What is your song of triumph?

What is your "it-could've-been-worse" moment?

This week in recovery has offered me perspective. It's drawn out my humility. It's reminded me of God's presence, favor, and love for me. Maybe it's reminded me that He has a plan for me, or else, I wouldn't still be here. More than anything, it's made me long for the life I once complained about. The one that's filled with gym visits, singing and serving at church, and quiet, cozy moments on the couch. The one where I get to shower without stress, sleep comfortably in my bed, and am not limited by physical pain.

Perspective is healing just as much as my ability to stand straight, walk, and cook for myself. Perspective reminds me that my life is good as it is. Even as I continue to heal, my life is good. I pray I remember this when I get to step fully into my life once again.