In second grade I decided to race the neighbor boy (Ben) down our little dead end street on our bikes. To make the race more interesting we switched bikes. Ben on my bike, I on ben’s bike.
Ready…set…GO! We were off. All the kids on the street watched and we took off as fast as we could from one end of our street to the other.
I could feel myself picking up speed as I pettled faster and faster and FASTER! I was ahead, then he, then I…then….
THUD! The bike I was riding hit a bump. The front wheel twisted causing the bike to come to a stuttering halt sending me flying through the air.
I dont remember the moments between my butt actually leaving the bike to lifting myself off the pavement. I do remember all the kids running over to me with a look of horror on their face as I looked up at them. “Oh, your face”, “Shes bleeding”, ”Is she gonna die.” are some of the phrases I remember hearing as I covered my face and ran to my house screaming at the top of my lungs.
What had happen was I flew over my handle bars and face planted into the ground, skidding my face across the sidewalk. I had a pretty nice scrape right down the front of my face. The wound ran from the top of my forehead, down my nose, to the inside of my bottom lip, and chin. I was a sight to be seen.
Covered in band aids from the top of my head to the bottom of my chin…i went to school the very next day. Kids are cruel, even at a young age of 8. They called me “eraser face” that year. Why they didnt call me “band aid face” is beyond me. Their choice was “eraser face” because the band aids all over my face reminded them of a giant eraser.
That story is why I write this blog. I believe it was that accident that caused the septum in my nose to deviate from its original position. Tomorrow I will be getting surgery to correct this tiny problem that is keeping me from breathing.
The story gets even more personal
This surgery has raised some hidden fears I didnt know I had. I am afraid of anesthesia. I fear that “cross over” moment. I fear not waking up or becoming a vegetable. I fear being confused when I wake up. I fear waking up during the surgery. I fear any pain that comes with this surgery. I fear the surgery not working.
“Jesus, can you heal my nose?” I asked one day on my way home from work. “Can you reset my septum in your miraculous ways. You have healed me before of many things. Will you do this for me?”
“Not this time Colleen.”
“What?…..Why?…………….Please? I am afraid…..”
“Colleen, you are facing fear based off the idea that I AM not in control and that I AM not good. Does the anesthesia decided when you come to ME or do I? The issue isnt ‘will I heal your nose’, the issue is ‘will you, colleen, trust me with this surgery?’. I can heal your nose, but you will still have fear. Trust that I AM good, that I AM in control. Rely on ME in your fears.”
And that was the first of many conversation with God I had about my fears with this surgery. Going through this is causing me to trust Gods goodness regardless of my circumstances, feelings or thoughts. For some reason, going through this surgery is more ‘faith building’ for me then it would be to have a miraculous healing. God for sure cares about my end result, which is being able to breathe freely. But what is most valuable to Him is the journey I take with Him to get to the result. God could have miraculously healed me when I asked. However, if He had, He and I would have missed out on a beautiful journey through this together.
If im up to it, i will have the beautiful pictures of post surgery when i get back from the hospital. Hopefully i will get some sleep tonight.