Darci J. Steiner is the author of the award-winning biblically based book, Beauty Beyond the Thorns: Discovering Gifts in Suffering. She began writing as a way to process her pain after becoming disabled from a foot injury. Darci writes to encourage others to never give up hope. She is a disability advocate, inspirational speaker, guest-podcaster, and nutritionist. More importantly, Darci is a follower of Christ, and loves to spend time with her husband, two adult daughters, and baby granddaughter. Please visit www.darcijsteiner.com to subscribe to The Upside of Suffering Newsletter.
A Window In Time by Darci Steiner I am approaching four years of disability. That’s 1,460 days. When that chair fell and hit my ankle, I had no idea it would change my life. I had no clue about the encounter I was about to experience with God. It began with many discussions over His ways and what His scriptures mean. I have wrestled with Him over which life is better for me—a disabled or a painless one. God and I spend time alone when no one else can understand my loneliness, disappointment, or sorrow. Even though I can hardly walk, He has taught me how to walk with Him. He’s taught me that pain is His way of carving me to better resemble His image. He’s given me contentment with less because He has become more. I’ve learned Jesus is the reason during a season of suffering, and because He learned obedience to His Father through suffering, so do I. I have sat in my despair and mostly learned not to be afraid. I am afraid, but I’m less fearful than I was when I entered this encounter. As I grow and my faith expands, I panic less that I can hardly walk. I used to walk daily for 45 minutes. On those walks, I connected with my Father through nature. I couldn’t understand why He took away my favorite times of connection until I realized He wanted me to communicate with His nature more, in stillness, without distraction. He wanted to take me deeper into quiet, to show me who He is and who He isn’t.
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It’s harder for me to sit still in His nature (presence) than to walk down the street looking at nature. My initial and constant question to Him at the start of this encounter was, “What am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to live with such limited capacity to do anything?” I felt bound, locked up, and distressed while suffering blood-curdling horrendous pain. Having Complex Regional Pain Syndrome is like a horror movie that loops over, and over, and over again. I have lost so much these last four years. I can’t walk but a few steps per day, reserved to get my lunch, use the restroom, and sometimes get to the dinner table. I can’t drive anymore or even take a shower without help. I can’t cook, get to my backyard, or sit on an unpadded seat. I’ve lost my independence and, at times, my mind. I can’t watch my baby granddaughter alone or take her to the zoo. Oh, how I long to take her to the zoo. I’ve lost my ability to play the piano, a passion of mine. I’ve taught dozens and dozens of students to play over the years, and now I can’t move my fingers in the positions playing requires. You see, I’ve hurt my hands as well. When one body part is injured, the rest of the body lovingly compensates. Eventually, those parts need to be compensated for too, then bam, you’ve got a domino effect, and everything falls apart. When I walk, I feel as if I’m walking on corkscrews and pins and needles. I have torn rotator cuffs, biceps tendonitis, thigh pain, and nerve damage
