Something happened to me in June 2008. I spent 12 weeks at home with my leg in plaster after I ruptured my Achilles tendon. The odd thing was that I had been walking about on it, driving my car too for 4 days over the weekend since it had happened. I went to work the day after with my leg heavily strapped and walked up stairs, stood about talking to people and ignored the gnawing paing that said 'you really should check me out' but I thought it was only a bad sprain because I could stand on it.
Monday morning driving to work a little voice is saying inside my head - 'just drive to the hospital, it's only a half a mile away from work, get it checked out'.
It seemed like a sensible idea so that's what I did. Twenty minutes later I've been triaged and then I'm talking to a nurse, telling her what I'd done. She didn't touch me just looked at my unbandaged foot and said, "You won't be dancing for a while with that. It's ruptured". I'm in denial by this time, it can't possibly be ruptured, can it?
She asked me if it was painful soI told her the truth, it was excruciating when it happened but had since dulled to a gnawing that came and went.
"Hmm, well you need an Xray to confirm it but it's definitely ruptured". A few moments later a junior nurse is brought into the room and the older woman asked me to turn around and kneel on the chair, then squeezing my calf very tightly she expalined to the junior what to look for with a ruptured achilles. The Xray confirmed her diagnosis and without seeing a doctor the nurse has organised a chair and porter to take me to the plaster room.
Was I happy? No, I liked my job and I was looking foward to what I had to do. With my leg in plaster for 12 weeks I was going to be up against it when I got back to work. I couldn't drive home and no-one was available to take me so I had to get a taxi, a hackney and I didn't have any money to pay him, so we had to stop off at a cash machine on the way home while I tried not to fall over and land face first on the pavement as I got out.
Week 1 and depression set almost immediately. By the end of the week I'm feeling so sorry for myself. About 3pm on Friday afternoon I'm feeling trapped in the kitchen, sitting at the table by the window watching everyone go about their day in the bright sun shine. I've been feeling more and more miserable since breakfast and moaning at God because I feel like it. Then I notice a car draw up. I watch the driver carefully remove a lilac box with the most beautiful floral arrangement and I say aloud..
"God, if I had a husband he'd have sent me a bouquet like that just to cheer me up, but I don't and no-one is going to be sending me flowers today, tomorrow or any other day". Then I feel really guilty for wanting someone else's flowers. The man walks away with the flowers safely grasped between his hands and I hear myself say. "Lord I hope the person receiving them really apprieciates them and they brighten up that persons day". The man comes back but he still has the flowers, this time he's going in the opposite direction.
A few moments later I get up from my chair and go to the kettle. Turning I see the man again, still holding the flowers, and I realise he must be lost because the numbering in our street is crazy with high numbers next to low ones. I decide to go to the door and ask if he's lost at which point he turns toward my path. So I open the door and as he approaches I'm about to ask if he's lost.
As I opened the door the man said my surname and asked if he had the right house, I just nodded.......The flowers were for me....I'd been watching this man and these flowers, calling out to God and praying they would be appreciated by the recipient. I could only nod and then I heard myself ask him to place them on the table for me. which he did. For the next half hour I sat at the table with my tea, looking at these beautiful flowers, realising God wanted to lift my spirit and knew that flowers would do the job nicely. Those flowers lasted 3 weeks, lillies, carnations and roses, they sat on the table in the sunlight with me everyday, greeting me in the morning and being my last sight at night. A reminder that God knows everything about me and exactly what I need and when I need it.
The following week my boss arrived at the door with the new laptop we'd bought for work. "Here, I thought you might need this to keep you in touch, do what you can, or not".
I started to thank him for the flowers but he said, "I was really annoyed about that, I asked the girls to get you a basket of fruit - you can't eat flowers". With that he turned to go down the path and said "Don't worry about anything, we've got it under control". He was annoyed that I was sent flowers but God knew what He was doing and He wasn't finished there.
A few days later a lady arrived at my door around 6pm with carrier bags, she brought fruit and treats, enough to fill a basket. We talked about Samson, troubles and trusting in the Lord. When she left I hobbled upstairs to find my notebook. Looking back to May I found what I was searching for at the bottom of the page. These words were written - "separate yourself to me and I will minister to you". So I was at home because God wanted to spend time with me. Whatever happened from that moment on I could expect the Lord to minister to me and that's what He did.
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