breaking my left arm…. a year later

So, today.  I have so many mixed feelings.  Gratefulness, pride, terror.

Today is the one year anniversary of my breaking my arm.

I know, I know.  IT’S JUST AN ARM.

I have been walking sloooowly on tiptoes all day.  And no, I don’t believe in deja vu, it’s just a thing.

But breaking my arm last fall was life-changing for myself and my family.  I could no longer hold my babies.  I could no longer shower without assistance.  I experienced helplessness.  I embraced God’s mercy and grace.

And now?  My arm is about 95%.  Beyond what I could have hoped for or imagined (besides wishing I had just SLOWED DOWN and not ran in my kitchen that afternoon one year ago.)

I can grab my left shoulder with my left hand at the same flexion as grabbing my right shoulder with my right.  This took so much work and perseverance and gritting teeth and grunting and screaming.  But my scar tissue loosened, along with my heart and my pride, and I am there.

My arm does not extend the way my right does.  This is due to my right arm (and former left) over-extending.  The only time I feel my deformity is holding my arms straight in front of me.


I thought I’d include an x-ray of my arm, for those who have wondered and those who have written.  This hardware is my new permanency, my new normal..  And I am so blessed to live in a country and in a time where these things are available.  I am grateful for this place where I can share my heart, alongside my kids’ playdough and alphabets and bible verses.  And I am grateful that my experience and this place have provided valuable encouragement to some very lovely women who have experienced the dreaded elbow break.

I no longer have lifting restrictions, though I can’t hold my daughter for more than a few moments because my left arm is still very weak.  I can hold my own bags, though with some pain that I just grit my teeth at.  I now have a push up profile with the Army Reserve, which is best, because my arms do not straighten equally, and I certainly could not carry my own weight in a push up… probably ever again.  This is something I can live with (maybe even a silver lining).


So, to strengthen myself, I have become BRAVE.  I have begun kettlebell work again.  Swings, lunges, squats, and slowly but surely, yes, some arm and tricep work.  I can be strong.  I do believe it.  I have to live it.

I also have pain.  Intense bone pain.  And it comes and goes as random as I can describe.  During rain?  Not really.  After drinking a glass of wine, yes.  No more Riesling for me.  If I have just one glass, my arm throbs for at least a week.  Weird.  And also mostly after my workouts.  But I keep moving it, and pushing it.  I don’t want to feel, or become, complacent.  I can grit my teeth and be thankful to be alive and healthy and full.

And that’s that.  My scar is a beautiful reminder that I am broken and in a fallen world, but I have a Redeemer who has made me whole.  And I am thankful to feel whole again.


 (This is on a rare night out, at a summer wedding.)

And my love and my rock through all of this.  The road has not been perfect.  He is not and I am not.  But I am so grateful for my love and his support and strength.


God has taught me so much throughout the year.  I shared here:

85 things I’m thankful for {after breaking my arm}

On hating to wear pants

Mercies anew: a song {amidst deployment, death, and a broken arm}

Lessons from my arm break

My arm will be new again

Perspective about a broken arm


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