Three weeks ago, I almost knocked the music out of me.
It was foolish on my part. I broke my “one log at a time” rule that day and carried two logs, one under each arm, while navigating the trail behind our house. On the last downslope—and unable to see my feet—I slipped on some debris: leaves, rocks, sticks. My legs flew out from under me; my hands and butt smacked the ground; my right side hit the sharp edge of a wooden stair step, knocking the wind out of me.
As I lay there, trying to catch my breath, Cato hovered above me and licked my face. Mac appeared at my feet, cocking his head in puzzlement. My only thought was, “Will I be able to make music, to sing and play my flute?”
Obviously, the answer was yes, since last week I wrote about reading scripture, playing and singing. But at the time, I wasn’t at all sure that would happen.
I gasped a painful breath, groaned, and elbowed myself up to a sitting position. Even though my back on the right side protested, I could move. I carefully put the logs down, so they wouldn’t roll down the mountain, and checked my hands. My fingers smarted and stung but flexed without discomfort.
Gingerly, I worked my way up to a standing position. To finish what I’d started—foolish and stubborn, too—I leaned over to pick up one of the logs. Oh no you don’t, my ribs screamed, not without a strong reminder that we’re bruised or cracked or broken. Later, I’d hear and feel a rib bone rattle in my back and determine probably all the above.
There’s not much one can do about rib damage, which usually mends in three to six weeks, unless there’s organ damage. Though sore and swollen, I could breathe okay and didn’t have fever or other symptoms. To recuperate, I cut back on physical activity and rested. I soon discovered that if I didn’t get up and move around, my back would get stiff. So, I got up day and night to walk around, doing a little of this and a little of that. Spring cleaning in the summer will get done, though it’ll take longer, and yard work, too.
Every day, I practiced singing and playing both flutes, less than usual but practice all the same. Despite the discomfort in breathing, I was able to play in church five days later and sing with the choir a week later. Each time I prayed, “Lord, help me get enough air into my lungs and diaphragm.” And He did.
Yesterday before pre-service worship team practice, Pastor announced the impending death of a dear friend. She and her husband, the leader of our small group, had celebrated their 55th wedding anniversary with us in April, before her sudden, terminal diagnosis. Tears welled in my eyes. I couldn’t focus on the music in front of me. This time, instead of physical injury, grief knocked the music out of me.
I prayed, “Dear Lord, You’re going to have to make music through me today.”
And He did, as He always does.
Linkup with Five Minute Friday: https://fiveminutefriday.com/2023/06/29/fmf-writing-prompt-link-up-music/
Oh, I so understand painful ribs. I slipped, fell and slid down the stairs in our house in Houston years ago. I had trouble breathing in deeply. I knew nothing about broken ribs and ended up at a local ER. I was advised nothing could be done and to breathe deeply on occasion despite the pain to prevent pneumonia. I am glad to hear you recovered enough to continue singing. I’m also so sorry for your (pending) loss of a friend. The Lord be with you during these times.
Bless you, Lee Ann. Slips and loss can happen so fast. Thank you for your kindness. -C.D.
[[Hug]] with regard to your friend, and a prayer of thanksgiving to God for protecting you from greater injury in your fall. I’m so happy you can continue your ministry through music. I took a little backward fall just recently when I lost my footing on a tiny slope in my garden–landed on my ample backside and only damaged my pride, but it was a reminder as to how easily (and quickly) life’s missteps can happen. Take care, dear Carole.
Thank you for your comforting words, dear Cindie. My friend passed into eternity last night. Though happy for her, we are grieving, especially for her husband and family.
[[bigger hug]] and prayers for all who are grieving. How comforting to know the Blessed Hope found in knowing Christ.
I feel as though lately the music has been knocked out of me. But I keep on because I know he is walking with me
“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil, for thou art with me…” God bless you, Angie!
Oh gosh! A great post but sorry to hear that it was at the expense of your ribs. Take care, friend.
All is well – and hopefully with you, too! Happy summer! -C.D.
Wow, Carole, what an experience that must have been. Glad you’re okay though and were able to play your flute and sing at church.
I’m so sorry about your friend who passed. Sending hugs and prayers for comfort and peace.
♥🙏
Sandy (#22)
Thank you, Sandy. The breathing I did to sing and play flute actually aided my recovery. The grieving process will take longer.
Carole, I am happy you were blessed with not too much damage from your unexpected fall. I know that I don’t heal as fast as I used to. So pleased that you could share your music at church. Sending belated prayers for the lose of a dear friend and church member.
Thank you for your prayers, Richard. Change can happen so fast.