Story by Lori Humrich
Out of the depths I cry to you, Lord; Lord, hear my voice, (Psalm 130:1, NIV).
This was my prayer for months after January 27th. That night David and I had a date. As I drove home, a car cut in front of me and stopped suddenly. I was able to stop, but the driver behind me was not paying attention, and slammed into me. While both the people who caused the accident walked away with no injuries, my right leg was severely damaged.
I remember seeing the side of the truck that hit me, I remember the cold, I remember the pain, and I remember they wouldn’t let me be with David. I remember the doctor said they had decided to save my leg, even though it would be painful, and I might not walk again. He said it would be a very long recovery, with several surgeries.
On February 6, they vacuumed out the bits and pieces that were previously my knee area, inserted a lot of metal and screws, and my recovery began. After being released from the hospital I was transferred to Glenburnie Rehab and Nursing Center. Being the youngest person there gave me plenty of incentive to go home. But I hadn’t thought through what that meant—I would be on my own for very long days while David was working.
But the real recovery was the totally independent Lori accepting total dependence. The doer and giver had to be the receiver. I had to learn to be graciously dependent on David, my family, church, friends, and strangers, but most importantly, dependent on God. God used this time of healing to call me to be totally dependent on Him.
Out of the depths:
I tumbled into depression and anxiety. My life had never been so out of control. Every sound in the house scared me, riding in the car terrified me, everything exhausted me. The littlest things to an able-bodied person sent me into a tailspin—rocks on the sidewalk, stairs that don’t have wheelchair access, being stuck in a restroom and unable to open the door to get out.
I cry:
Oh, how I cried. Sometimes with joy, but mostly in pain, sometimes physical or mental, and sometimes spiritual pain. Although I never had the “why me?” thoughts, I did wonder “why?” What was the suffering for? Then it occurred to me that maybe I was doing too much. Was doing all I could for God and the Kingdom keeping me too busy to seek God? In 2016, during Lent I was so busy with church activities that I jokingly said “Next year I’m giving up church for Lent.” Little did I know.
To you, Lord:
I did a lot of crying to God, begging for pain relief, to not become addicted to the pain medication, to forgive those who had caused the accident, to forgive myself for not giving Him complete control of my life. Apparently I needed to be hit over the head with a 2×4, since I hadn’t listened to His still small voice. These months sharpened my listening skills.
Lord, hear my voice:
God did hear my crying. He brought me the love of First Baptist Church through cards, flowers, food, and presence. When people called or visited, I forgot that I was in pain. I was more than abundantly blessed.
When my boss told me they could no longer hold my job, how I cried. But God heard me. I had been thinking about going to seminary for several years, but because of the cost and my work, I couldn’t fit it in. I had told God if He wanted me to go, He had to make it perfectly clear. And so, He did: I started at Baptist Theological Seminary at Richmond in August.
My healing isn’t complete, but has already surpassed what the doctors thought possible. Recently I walked into church. I started driving and cooking. I am able to do some things independently again, but I have to remember that I need to follow God’s pace, not try to outrun Him. I have become willingly dependent on Him.
Originally from Michigan, Lori joined FBC in 2012 and was baptized in the James River. She met David at First Baptist and they married in 2014. Lori is a member of the Seekers Class, former director of Legacy of Leadership, and liaison for the Lambs Class. Wednesdays find her helping Beanie in the kitchen. Lori has three children and one grandchild.