01 September 2015

Climbing Back up the Ladder

Climbing back into the attic isn't just about overcoming the fall...
For me, it was about remembering three little words my husband taught me. IMG_20140821_142146_cr
It was also about being more conscientious about listening to the Holy Spirit.
The fateful day when I fell, now fifteen months ago, the wrong spirit was in my home. 
My husband and I were arguing about essentially nothing... but the spirit of contention was present. That also meant that the Holy Spirit was not.
It was the Holy Spirit that I felt each time I was quietly reminded to grasp tighter to the ladder. 
The Holy Spirit wasn't there that day... and I had my hands full of stuff and a heart full of anger as I fell backwards 10 feet into the air... landing on a hard floor breaking my back.
The Holy Spirit arrived with the Missionaries that day. The young Priesthood holders who my husband called to bless me, when I screamed for them in pain. 
IMG_20140625_124321_crThey were his second call that day, the first being to 911. The Elders performed the blessing with me on a stretcher on my front lawn.
For the next four days, in a haze of intractable pain, I learned to walk again. 
I was in a steel brace for 6 weeks, then released for 6 more weeks of physical therapy. By the time September came, I was preparing to journey to Arizona with my husband to explore the land we dreamed of purchasing.
With Heavenly Father's assistance, I healed. 
When I returned to the house where the accident had occurred, it had been almost a year since the fall. I even surprised myself at the amount of PTSD that the ladder contained within it's every rung. But that very fact made me more determined to climb it.
The attic was my get-away. It was on that hard wooden floor of that attic where I prayed to God to know how to become IMG_20140112_161015_092_thumb.jpgcloser to Jesus Christ. It was in that attic where I received the answer I wasn't ready for. It was in that attic where I was told by my Heavenly Father to be Baptized and become a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.
It is in that attic, where I feel closer to God. Perhaps, because I spent months up there, alone. Perhaps because the wooden floor has absorbed more of my tears in prayer than any other place in the world. Perhaps. 
As I climbed the ladder.... a poem started to form. I have shared it here:
Three points of Contact
Three points of contact
the words ring in my head
three points of contact
next time could find you dead
Three points of contact
my shoulders loaded with bags
Three points of contact
Forgot to drop my shoes
this could be bad
Three points of contact
Do curled toes count as one?
Three points of contact
four to go, I'm almost done.
Three points of contact
On the way up the stairs
Three points of contact
into my attic lair
Three points of contact
Why do I want to climb?
Three points of contact
to get writing out of my MIND
Three points of conact
almost to the top
Three points of contact
it would be crazy now
to stop!
Three points of contact
my pulse racing in my ears
Three points of contact
amplifying false fears
Three poinst of contact
breath shallow, too fast
Three points of contact,
my feet on the attic floor
I made it at last.
Three points of contact,
the phrase my companion
taught me
Three points of contact
make them each time
you climb
and be free.
Three Points of Contact
Three Points of Contact

(My daily struggle with PTSD from my 10 foot fall off an attic ladder that broke my back, continues...)
I made it up the stairs, but trying to get back to writing when sitting is no longer acceptable to my body was another journey. I had wanted to write for months, but every time I tried to begin, I got frustrated with my pain level and stopped. 
Finally, it happened. I was able to not only put scriptures onto photos I had taken, but I was able to once again articulate in a written form.
So, here it begins. Again. 
Thanks for your patience
I hope everyone's week is full of the Love and Lighte of Jesus Christ. 

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