Finding Peace During Brain Injury Recovery and Post-Concussion Syndrome

Apr 1

In This Reflection:

Being forced into rest after brain injury
Navigating post-concussion syndrome (PCS)
Letting go of productivity and control
Finding peace without immediate resolution
Trusting God in seasons of uncertainty

The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he refreshes my soul. Psalm 23:1-3a (NIV)

I’m not sure about you, but I don’t love to rest. Now, let me be clear: I do hold a black belt in napping, so I can crush a Sunday afternoon nap. Despite that ability, I still struggle to truly rest. I enjoy being active and always have a running list of projects I’d love to accomplish. 

For many years, professionally, I took all of that can’t-stop-won’t-stop activity to the extreme and teetered on the verge of burnout. In recent years, however, I have learned the critical nature of rest and the benefits of engaging in a true Sabbath. I have seen time and time again, when I place a priority on rest and honor the Lord with my calendar, I’m far more productive (and nicer to be around). It’s amazing what happens when you implement the biblical command of six days and a rest rather than trying to do it full-steam-ahead with no stops, in seven. I've learned the essential practice of choosing rest.

But what happens when you don’t choose it and instead are made to rest?

Eighteen months ago, I sustained a serious concussion. I was under a metal table on my front porch, fixing its wobbly leg, and didn’t climb out far enough before standing up. The top of my head met the edge of the metal table and took me to my knees. It was a hard hit, but not the worst I’ve experienced. Two years prior, I received a severe concussion in an accident on a ladder, and two years before that, yet another. Three concussions in less than five years is not a life choice I would recommend. And, as you probably are aware, concussion symptoms compound - so even a lesser incident can bring about the fury of every previous collision combined. This is what makes concussions so dangerous.

I don’t remember most of those first weeks. Stubbornly, I tried for about ten days to power through and live life as usual. (Remember, I don’t love to rest.) I thought I’ve done this before; I know how this goes; I can do this. But I couldn’t.

Everything felt impossible. I was trying to continue the worship team consulting work I do with my company, but I couldn’t understand the conversations. I was also trying to keep up with emails and texts, but I couldn’t bear to be on screens of any kind. I was clumsy and slow-moving and very easily exhausted. Most heartbreaking of all, I was days away from finishing my second book. But everything about reading and the editing and revision process made me feel dizzy and sick. I wore sunglasses constantly, held my hands over my ears to evade every noise possible, and looked out the window blankly - a lot. Finally, after weeks of not improving and a sobering visit to the doctor, he confirmed what those who love me had been saying. You have to stop.  

He called it PCS: Post-Concussion Syndrome, a form of Traumatic Brain Injury. There was no timeline or quick-fix therapy to rush my healing. Outside of a miraculous work of the Lord, my injury would simply heal when it healed. I rebelled against the decision to rest. I had too much to do and too much I wanted to keep doing, but I did not have a choice. I had to stop.

Did the Lord cause this accident? By no means. But will He use it in my life? As much as I allow Him to.

Although I have seen improvement, I am still dealing with symptoms every day, and, spoiler alert, this story is not going to end with a tidy answer on how I've received God’s peace and how everything has worked out beautifully. Candidly, it has been a fight. For all practical purposes, my life is on pause. BUT—here is what I love about being “made” to lie down in these proverbial green pastures: God hasn’t made me lie down on the edge of a cliff, or in the middle of a freeway, or in the presence of lions. He has made me lie down (according to Psalm 23) in a lush, beautiful place, where I’m safe and He’s near. He is tending to me in the way that only The Great Shepherd can. I have to trust, through it all, He is refreshing my soul. That’s what rest does. Does that mean I feel refreshed at the moment? No. Does that mean I am happy about everything? Not at all. However, if the Lord is making me lie down, I know He is restoring something in me. I have His track record of faithfulness to count on, and that alone in this season brings me peace.

Peace is perspective. It’s being able to step back to see the whole situation, rather than only the details of it. If you are too close to something, you truly cannot appreciate or enjoy its beauty - it blurs and clouds our vision. (Try looking at this paragraph with the text close to your nose.) But, when we, with the help of Jesus and others, step back and see our situation from the vantage point of a little bit of time or through the lens of the Lord’s plan, we can receive greater peace and gain perspective.

When I get too focused on all the things I cannot do at the moment, like drive or endure lights and sound or go to the grocery store without getting wildly confused, I lose perspective and peace. However, if I can look at the greater picture and my place in His grander story, this is where I gain His peace. I must remind myself that His plans for me are good and will give me hope and a future (Jeremiah 29:11). At the same time, I also have to remember that I don’t get a pass on suffering just because I know Jesus (Romans 8:18, John 16:33). Taking hold of these things gives me the perspective I need from the Prince of Peace himself.

Through it all, most mornings, I find myself walking outside to my front porch and sitting with my coffee at the table that took me down. (The table and I are still working on a peace agreement.)

I still have many unanswered questions. In time, answers will come - or - not. In the meanwhile, I’m searching for the Lord’s viewpoint at this table set before me - the table of His perspective - this table of peace.