I was getting ready to go to the library yesterday when I noticed coffee on the floor. I quietly grumbled as I grabbed a Swiffer pad and proceeded to clean. I didn’t really have time to clean, but I knew I needed to take just a few minutes to clean up the mess. Ironically, those few minutes of cleaning led to an even greater mess than I anticipated.
About 20 minutes after I finally arrived at the library, my left hand started to feel funny. I was working on one of the many papers I have due this month when I realized the Swiffer pad might have caused a bleed in my hand. “No, this can’t be happening,” I kept saying as I watched my hand turn red. I tried to ignore the increasing pain and swelling, but I finally had to admit that my hand was internally bleeding.
When I have an internal bleed in my hand, my “normal” life is placed on pause. I can’t cook. I can’t really hold anything. I can’t drive. I can’t write. I can barely sleep. For an entire week I’m supposed to simply lay in bed and wait for my hand to heal.
A bleed is painful, irritating, and frustrating. But above all, it reminds me that I can’t control everything. There are some messes that are too big for me to clean, and that’s okay. Even though I want to be independent and unlimited, there’s beauty in the reminder that I need both God and people. I’m not meant to go through messes by myself — and neither are you.
Growing in the Groaning 
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