I hurt my back yesterday.
For most people that might be a passing comment, something to insert in a conversation between “Nice weather we’re having ” and “I’d like a double foam latte.”
But not for me.
I have to have a strong back and strong arms to do the work God’s called me to do with Travis. My sweet little one can’t stand without having someone or something to support him. He can’t get in and out of the car by himself. He relies on someone, and that someone is me.
It was my fault that I pulled a muscle. I was putting his wheelchair into the car yesterday after lunch and I didn’t stop to think about how my hips and knees were positioned before I picked it up, and the second I swung it into the back of the Suburban, I knew I had done something injurious. The discomfort got worse and worse throughout the day, and by the time I crawled in bed at 7:30 with a heating pad, I was nearly in tears.
A whispered prayer through the pain, “God, please heal me.”
I know that one day I won’t be strong enough to lift him. I know one day that He will take the physical care of Travis away from me when I’m no longer able to do so.
But I want to do so.
I want to be the one that wraps loving arms around my child. I want to be the one to support him, to hold him close and protect him from anyone who would seek to harm him. As exhausting as it is, I am his mother, and I want to care for him.
I woke up this morning to absolutely no pain. I lifted him with ease to put him in the car, and carried him without incident over an icy stretch of sidewalk to get into the school building.
All the while singing praises to the Great Healer for watching over me, for hearing me, and for healing me so I can fulfill the purpose to which I am called.
He’s got my back.
Have a nice day.