Stand Firm
Elizabeth and Charis - photo by Elizabeth Watkins
“Be on guard; stand firm in the faith; be strong and courageous.”
1 Corinthians 16:13
Ah, Fridays! My favorite day of the week. The morning is gloriously flexible. My husband works from home on Fridays, so we get to enjoy lunch and dinner as a family. Homeschool assignments are light (hallelujah), and I block off the afternoon for whatever project I decide to dive into. Usually, this means a joyful rotation of educational responsibilities, writing, and—oh yes—house projects that I somehow forgot about all week. By Friday afternoon, I’m feeling like a superhero juggling it all. And then, as if to reward myself for surviving the week, we wrap up with pizza and a movie. Friday is basically my personal victory lap.
Last Friday, March 28, started off wonderfully! The weather was spring-perfect—warm enough to convince me that mountain biking was the way to go. Running is great, but sometimes the bike is more fun! The ride was glorious. The wind whipped through my hair, and I was practically flying across the Greenland Open Space. The hills, the trails, the freedom—I was on top of the world.
But, as all good things must, my ride came to an end, and it was time to return home and face the reality of the day ahead: taxes, an April blog post, and finalizing details for my audiobook recording.
After breakfast, I settled in at the kitchen table to help my oldest son, Andrew, with his math. Meanwhile, I sent the three younger kids outside to burn off some energy! They immediately commandeered the electric dirt bike, a special Christmas gift. They zoomed off energetically before I even had a chance to say goodbye!
As Andrew and I worked through his math problems, I allowed my mind to wander to the afternoon. What should I write about for my next blog post? April 1st was coming up, and since it’s April Fool’s Day, I figured I’d deviate from my usual contemplative content and share something funny. Maybe I’d write about the time I hit a neighbor’s parked car while visiting a client. I had totally meant to pull in front of the car instead of scraping the side of it! Or how about the time I asked a postpartum woman if she was pregnant? (She wasn’t). Or asked a grandmother about her beautiful grandchildren? (Except they weren’t her grandchildren, they were her children). Those would make hilarious blog topics, I thought.
But before I could fully explore my comedic storytelling ideas, I heard a familiar voice at the door. My youngest son, Liam, was standing there, face pale.
“Mom,” he said softly, “Can you come with me?”
Oh no. That’s the look.
“Is someone hurt?” I asked, immediately going into “mom mode.”
“Yes,” Liam said, shifting his eyes to the floor.
“What happened?” I asked, already bracing myself.
“Charis fell off the dirt bike.”
Internally I felt panic. “Can she walk?” I asked, trying to stay calm.
“No,” Liam said, his voice small.
“Okay, I’m coming right away,” I said, my motherly instincts kicking in. I quickly told Andrew, “Looks like we’re done with math for the day,” and Andrew, ever the optimist, cheered. My oldest child is always ready for a math break—or break from any school subject for that matter!
I turned to my husband, Isaac, who was walking by. “Isaac, can you go help Charis? She’s hurt.”
Isaac is the type who takes everything in stride. He agreed immediately and followed Liam to our daughter. A few moments later, they returned, and Isaac helped Charis get situated. Their daddy-daughter relationship is quite special!
Charis, tears rolling down her face, explained how the bike slid on loose gravel, the brake malfunctioned (thanks, electric dirt bike!), and then—boom!—she was thrown to the ground. The bike landed on top of her leg.
After talking with Isaac and Charis, it was clear she couldn’t put any weight on her leg. So, off to urgent care we went—goodbye, productive afternoon. Hello, 4 hours of sitting in different urgent cares and orthopedic clinics.
Turns out, Charis had a fractured tibia. The good news? It wasn’t her head. Thank you, Lord. We left with crutches and a brace, which meant I’d be spending the next several days as nurse. I love serving so the nursing tasks came easily to me. Yet it was the other responsibilities that started to pile up.
By Saturday, I was in full “supermom” mode. At least, I thought I was. But when my husband casually asked, “When are you going to get that audiobook started?” I blinked, dumbfounded.
“I haven’t had time yet,” I said, smiling yet legitimately surprised. I could feel my sarcasm bubbling, but I held it in. I wanted to explain that I was too busy being a nurse, homeschool teacher, chef, therapist, referee, and superhero, but I just smiled and nodded. I was getting really good at that by now.
Sunday came, and I had the opportunity to attend a women’s luncheon where we discussed 1 Corinthians 16:13. The verse says, “Be on guard; stand firm in the faith; be strong and courageous.” It seemed almost comical given my week, especially the “be on guard and stand firm” part. After all, when your daughter fractures her leg, is there anything really you can stand firm on and be on guard for?
Apparently, yes.
Friday rolled around again. My blog post was still unfinished (ugh!), the audiobook contract remained unread in my inbox, the taxes loomed like a dark cloud, and household tasks? Well, they multiplied like rabbits. I felt my patience snapping like an old rubber band. In fact, I had what I like to call a “mommy meltdown.” You know the kind where you’ve done everything humanly possible, but then one of your kids screams like they’ve been attacked by an angry bear, and you snap? Yeah, that kind of meltdown. My hair definitely felt like it was on fire.
After the meltdown, I remembered that verse again. “Be on guard; stand firm in the faith; be strong and courageous” Oh. So that’s what I missed. I let my guard down, wavered and—surprise!—I cracked.
In the mist of the stress earlier that week, several friends encouraged me, “Make sure you take care of yourself.” I’d laughed off their comments, thinking, “Sure, I’ll add that to my to-do list right after ‘sleep’ and ‘take a bath’.” But here’s the truth: if I don’t take care of myself, I’ll end up a hot mess, and not the “organized, put-together” kind of mess either.
So, this week, I’m challenging myself to be on guard—to guard my heart, mind, and spirit — and carve out time to take care of myself. Will you join me? And maybe, just maybe, when next Friday rolls around, we’ll have a little more of that “firm strength” (and I’ll have a lot less sarcasm).
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to check my email—after I finish avoiding my taxes.