Dependence

So I broke my wrists the other night. Yes, both of them. As I've already explained probably a million times, I was at a concert. It was a good concert too. There's all sorts of "writerly details" I would love to put in here, but it takes me forever to type anything, so I won't. Basically, I fell very hard onto cement and tried to break my fall with my hands. As the doctor later said, I may drink a lot of milk, but milk can't win against concrete.

So it's kind of hard getting around without hands. I just got casts on this afternoon (which is amazing) but for two days I could barely use them. For the most part I have a pretty good attitude about it. I've never been one to dwell overly long on hardships. But still. It's hard to have to rely on others for every little thing. Like when I was hungry and no one was home to help me with food. Or when I couldn't get out of the bathroom because I couldn't turn the handle. Or when my friends have to wrap me in blankets before I go out and brush the hair out of my face. I've always hated crying in front of people, but I couldn't help it the other night when my friends were washing my face and I couldn't quite seem to communicate what I wanted.

This is hard, but it's been good too. I love being independent, doing things for myself. I like helping others. Now I can't even help myself. My independence spills into my spiritual life, as do all aspects of life. It's not that I think that I can do it on my own, but I am not always dependent on God to do his work in me. I do not listen. I do not always wait on him. I pray that I would come out of this a lot humbler and more ready to listen.