Learning to Stand Physically and Spiritually

This past week has been a journey, not just physically, but emotionally and spiritually as well. My doctor gave me the go-ahead to start lightly standing on my foot while wearing the medical boot. Not walking yet, just standing to see how much weight I can bear. So each day, I’ve put on my boot, positioned my crutches under my arms, and slowly placed pressure on my healing foot. It’s a small step, but an important one.

Still, I can’t drive, work, or do much of anything. There’s still pain. There’s still swelling. And while I handled the first two and a half weeks well, this week has felt different. I am weary. The isolation is setting in.

Yes, I’ve been with my mom, my husband, and spent some time with my dad, but I still feel lonely. I miss church. I miss my brothers and sisters in Christ. I miss the worship, the Word, the hugs from my spiritual mothers. I miss the fellowship. The warmth of being in a place where I am known, where my spirit is uplifted, and where I feel part of something greater than myself. There is something powerful about being in a community of believer’s, something that cannot be replaced by online sermons or worship playlists.

And in this loneliness, I wonder is the Lord calling me to take this time to be with Him?

Yet, if I am honest, I haven’t used this time wisely. I have plenty of stillness around me, but instead of filling it with prayer or scripture, I pick up my phone. I play games to pass the time. I scroll through Amazon looking at home organizers (which, yes, are needed, but still). I check social media. I watch TV. I do everything except the one thing my soul actually needs, spending time with God.

I tell myself I’ll spend time with Him later. When I feel more alert. When I am not in pain. When my mood is better. But then the day passes, and I realize I’ve spent more time being distracted than being devoted. It’s like I am reaching for things to fill the empty spaces, but they only leave me feeling more emptiness.

And yes, I may pick up my Bible a time or two, flipping through the pages, hoping a verse jumps out at me. But am I wholeheartedly reading it? Am I allowing His Word to truly speak to me, to penetrate my heart, to renew my mind? Or am I just glancing at it, hoping for a quick answer, but not fully engaging with it?

Why is it that I struggle to sit with the One who created me? The One who loves me, who saved me, who holds my life in His hands? Why is it so easy to be consumed with things that won’t last, yet so difficult to choose what is eternal?

And then, after choosing distractions over Him, I beat myself up for it. Again and again. I carry the guilt of knowing I should have spent more time with Him but didn’t. I feel unworthy, distant, and ashamed. It’s a cycle choosing other things, feeling guilty, and then letting that guilt push me further away.

But shame is not what God wants for us. He wants closeness. And He is always ready to welcome us back into His presence. He doesn’t stand there with a list of all the times we’ve scrolled instead of prayed. He doesn’t remind us of every moment we Ichose something else over Him. He doesn’t shake His head in disappointment and turn away.

Instead, He gently calls us back. Like a loving Father waiting for His child to return home, He simply says, “Come sit with Me.”

And the moment we do, He is there. No condemnation. No reminders of our failures. Just love, grace, and open arms.

So today, I pray for strength. Strength to choose God over distractions. Strength to use this season not just to heal physically, but to grow spiritually. Strength to sit at the feet of Jesus and listen. Strength to say no to the endless noise of the world and yes to the peace that only He can give.

Maybe I am not just learning to stand on my foot again. Maybe I am learning to stand firm in my faith. To stand firm in choosing what truly matters. To stand firm in trusting that even in this season of waiting and healing, God is working.

If you’re struggling too, let’s pray together:

Lord, give us the grace to turn away from the things that don’t last and to seek You first. In our stillness, meet us. Draw us near, and let our hearts hunger for more of You. Teach us to stand and not just physically, but spiritually in Your strength. Thank You for Your patience and love when we fall short. You are always waiting with open arms. Help us to not just glance at Your Word, but to truly meditate on it and allow it to transform us. Amen.

This time of recovery isn’t just about my foot. It’s about my heart. And maybe, just maybe, God is using this stillness to remind me of what truly matters.