Spring is here. The trees are turning green. The bush outside the kitchen window bloomed today with delicate pink flowers. I want to be out and about. I want to take long walks and spend the morning in the park. I want to soak up the sunshine and take pictures of all the springy newness. I feel lazy sitting in this chair for hours. I’m getting cabin fever.
I have plenty of energy. Well rested since Sophia tends to sleep five or six hours in a row most nights. I feel great. Mostly. And yet I can’t do it. Today I pulled something again while bending down to wipe up a few of the more egregious splotches on the kitchen floor. That’s all, just a little bending in the wrong way and suddenly: ouch! Every time I think I can do just a little more than the bare minimum, I start to feel pain, start bleeding again. Recovery is taking much longer than I expected. And so it feels like life is on hold. All the projects I want to start, the trips I want to take. I’m trying to go to the store as little as possible, to conserve my energy, let myself heal. The nurse says recovery can take 8-10 weeks.
I know in a few more weeks I should be stronger, able to get out with the stroller and push the girls to the park. But I’m impatient I want it now. In a few weeks the freshness of first spring will have faded a little bit. The gold will be gone. Leaf will have subsided to leaf.
God, grant me the patience to accept this season of recovery, to live in the moment and enjoy the rest and not complain.