Looking Back with Grace
October 13th is the day I remember coming to myself.
On that day, in the Fall of 2024, I remember sitting on a hospital bed, looking outside at what seemed like nothing but forest. There was no familiar street or hills to help me figure out where I was.
I wondered several things. How long had I been there? And why were all these doctors asking me questions?
“Do you know what happened?” one doctor asked.
“No.”
I remember responding in a voice that sounded like my nine-year-old self. I don’t know where that voice came from, but it stayed with me for days. So much of that time still feels strange to look back on.
As people began telling me, I sat in disbelief. Nearly two weeks in ICU. Two brain procedures. Emergency blood clot surgery. I was stoic, trying to take in a story about myself that I couldn’t remember living.
Today, I honor how far I’ve come since my illness. I still live with some of the effects of that illness, slight mobility challenges, changes in spatial awareness, and cognitive things I continue to navigate. And I am still grateful. Grateful that we finally reached a hospital where people went the extra mile to figure out what was wrong. Grateful for the care I received. Grateful to be here, able to tell this part of my story.
In Resting While You Wait, reflection makes room for looking back with grace. Tonight, I’m giving myself that room. I can acknowledge what happened, what remains difficult, and how far I’ve come.
It could have been worse. I know that. And as I look back, Romans 8:28 remains my anchor: it all worked together for good.
