You have peace,” the old woman said, “when you make it with yourself.”
― Mitch Albom,
When Peace of Mind Feels Far Away
When I woke up Tuesday morning, I never expected that I would end up lacerating my head on a metal awning + being stung by an angry bee all at the same time. It wasn’t on my agenda.
My agenda was to take my mom to her post-cataract surgery four-week checkup (in which she received the great news that she now has 20/20 vision), grab some lunch, be present for my 2:00 coaching session and spend the rest of the day working on my book proposal and carrying out my other responsibilities.
Instead, while filling my mom’s bird feeder outside her Assisted Living apartment window, I leaned over to pick up my sunglasses on the grass, only to rise up and have the metal awning slice my scalp—and at the same exact moment have an angry bee sting my left forearm. Everything got black for a few seconds. I didn’t know whether to scream from the pain or the sting, so I just buckled over and tried to gain some sense of composure. Thankfully, the Orkin Man was in the courtyard. I really believe he was an angel.
As I tried to start walking, I noticed blood dripping on my leg (still hunched over, btw).
Ummm, that can’t be good, I thought to myself. I reached up and felt my head and saw my reddened hand.
Being very allergic to wasps, I started to panic. What if that was a wasp? Double uh-oh.
“Mam, are you ok?” said the Orkin Man.
“Ummm, I don’t think so. Could you get the nurse?” I cried.
Honestly, I couldn’t stop crying. The tears just poured.
Within seconds, Cheryl, the head nurse, turned the corner.
“Girl, what have you done?” she said.
To make a very long story short, the Director, Joanne, a highly capable and competent nurse, swept me into the nurse’s station, checked me out, took my blood pressure (noted I was in a state of shock), made sure it was only a bee sting (no anaphylactic shock happening), and called my dear husband, who works just minutes away.
Three stitches later, I returned home to take Benadryl, extra strength Tylenol and lay low.
Pausing to Pray for Peace of Mind
On the ride to Patient First, anxiety set in. My left arm grew more weary by the minute—from holding a pile of gauze cloths to my wound and the increased swelling around the sting site. As my body started shaking from the pain, my husband reached over and gently said, “Breathe, just breathe. Quiet yourself.” The strength of his hand calmed me.
Then, I prayed out loud. Nothing profound, but a few sentences to my heavenly Father. Peace fell like a summer shower and quiet settled in.
As the PA stitched me up, she asked me about my work. After mumbling something about being a writer and counselor (smile), she asked what type of books I write.
“My next book is called, ‘Heartlift,'” I said. “It is all about rising above the lasting pain of hurtful words.”
She was quiet. And we talked for a minute about mental illness and pain.
“Physical wounds are easy to see and therefore, can evoke empathy and love from others. Mental wounds are hidden and so very difficult to see,” she said.
“Truer words never spoken,” I sighed.
What Brings You Peace of Mind?
Praying to my heavenly Father brings me peace of mind. When I pray out loud HIS words, my racing mind calms down. I’ve had to practice this spiritual discipline, trust me, it doesn’t come easy, but it does come. Maybe you need a little peace of mind today. Maybe you are bearing mental wounds that aren’t as obvious to the world. That is hard to bear.
Maybe your day didn’t end up the way you planned. Hopefully, you won’t find yourself fighting metal awnings or being attacked by an angry bee, but you might find yourself needing to quiet your racing mind. If so, pray these powerful words OUT LOUD:
And, if you would, please take a moment to share what brings you peace of mind. I’ll be talking about this over on our Facebook page today and definitely with our Be Remarkable Women, tomorrow, on our special (and private) Facebook Friday conversation.