According to my mother, I was pretty much born independent. Even in the cradle I wanted to do things my way, by myself. Independence is not necessarily a bad trait, but it becomes a problem when pride enters in and prevents us from asking for help. I really despise asking for help, it just seems easier to do things myself. That independent attitude has, in essence, created a barrier preventing people from getting close to me. Sadly, this self inflicted solitude has been a great source of pain for me. I never intended to alienate people or make them think I don’t need them. This accident has served as an eye opener; I really cannot do everything all by myself, nor do I have to. There are mass quantities of caring people in my life ready, willing and able to intervene. That knowledge is humbling and encouraging all at once.
About a week after my release from the hospital, I had chance to catch up on Facebook. I read through tear blurred vision all the posts not only of friends praying, but of friends asking their friends and family to pray. Much of this happened while I was still unconscious. I had no idea what had happened to me, but people who love me knew, and were busy interceding when I could not ask for help. Several of my friends even provided updates on my Facebook wall so that everyone could stay informed.
During my hospital stay, there was a steady stream of visitors; family, friends,and co-workers. A friend of my sister’s who I have never met, but lives in the area, stopped by the hospital to check on us. I was completely overwhelmed (in a good way) by the faces at my bedside. These people cared enough to stop whatever they were doing, drive out of their way and come visit me. I didn’t ask or expect, they just did. I’m told that much of my family, and several friends too, slept at the hospital for days just so I didn’t have to be alone. Our pastor and a fellow River Stone member made a special trip to rescue my purse, our cell phones and anything else they could from our annihilated vehicle.
A wonderful friend basically gave up two weeks of her life to be at the hospital with me and to provide round the clock home care when I was released. Her parents made sure I had clothes to wear home (the ones I arrived in wouldn’t fit over the halo), picked up prescriptions, and drove us all home from the hospital (that required several trips). My sister left her family behind to come care for me at home and my mother came and stayed as well. I never asked, I didn’t need to. They saw a need and jumped in to fill it.
Our church family lent their support in an overwhelming way; hot meals delivered for 30 days, daily visitors to help care for and keep my spirits lifted along with some extra special treats like Krispy Kreme doughnuts, Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper, Whataburger lunch, and chocolate peppermint milk shakes. There were some rough days and part of me just didn’t want to see anyone, but those visits were much needed and never failed to lift my spirits. Some people who brought meals, I had never spoken to before, they didn’t know me, but knew I had a need and wanted to help. New friendships were formed with those who came to visit.
My McCoy’s co-workers have also played in big role in my recovery process with meals, visits, lunches, texts, cards, e-mails, flowers. God knew what he was doing when he placed these people in my life. He sent me to McCoy’s via a temp agency, I never actually applied for a position there.
Out of state high school classmates showed their support via a BBQ dinner delivered to my door and an edible fruit arrangement. These are people I have not physically seen in twenty years, yet they cared enough to reach out.
In the past month I have overwhelmingly witnessed the hands and feet of Jesus moving in my life. I am incredibly grateful that I have not journeyed alone, for I could not have scaled this mountain alone. I am truly humbled by the expressions of love and compassion. Thank you all for walking beside me.