If you don’t want to read about what happened to me, you can scroll down and read the lessons I learned to progress towards being a healthy mom, having a happy home and a clear purpose for my life.

On October 31, 2025, I woke up with excruciating pain in my left shoulder and neck. I hoped for a quick resolution, but soon I couldn’t move without shaking and crying. Eventually, my husband Cody had to carry me to the car to get to the Emergency Room. It was the beginning of a six-week trial that would push me to my limits.

A CT scan revealed a herniated disc in my cervical spine at C6/C7. While waiting for specialists and procedures, I was living in a state of unbearable pain. Going to the bathroom or sitting up to eat was all I could manage. Right before a scheduled injection, the pain became so intense that I passed out and had a seizure. After being transported to the hospital by ambulance, I had a second seizure.

I remember telling Cody my heart was racing right before one of the siezures began. I couldn’t speak, but I was conscious, feeling the nurses trying to pull me to my side while my neck and shoulders screamed in pain. Following an MRI, narcotic prescription, and an epidural steroid injection, I still dealt with pain, numbness, tingling and twitching. I decided to have a disc replacement surgery on December 18. Praise be to God, I am now on a road to recovery.

The Beauty of a Body That Works

This experience has been a turning point for me. I have a new appreciation for what I do as a mom of six every day. My body cleans a house, folds laundry, carries babies, buys groceries, and takes walks. When I couldn’t move, all I could think about was being able to do those simple, everyday tasks again.

I realized how blessed anyone is to have a body that works. I wasn’t worried about what I looked like; I was just eager to heal what was broken. If you can walk, run, and simply work without wanting to cry or wince from pain, you are blessed. I have a true empathy now for those who deal with daily pain, and I am in awe of those who remain kind and graceful through those trials. If you know someone in pain, physical or emotional, be kind. They need love, not judgment.

Lessons from the Quiet Hours

Be present.

Don’t worry about the past and future. It is in the small moments—a warm bath, a tender hug, a safe home, a thoughtful text—that are simple, powerful and most valuable, so don’t miss them!

It is okay to ask for help.

For a long time, I wouldn’t allow myself to have help. Now, with a daughter in preschool, an occasional nanny for Levi, and a house cleaner once a month, I see these as blessings that allow me to function. Everyone can arrange help that makes sense for their life and budget. Don’t be shy.

Be a helper.

As a mom of six I have said no to a lot of things because I have felt at or over capacity, but it was the helpers in my life that helped me to see that we don’t say yes because it is convenient or easy; we do it because of love, friendship, community. I have to publicly thank my husband, my children, my friends, and my mother-in-law for their sacrifices to show up for me.

My mind is powerful!

My positive thoughts turn into positive actions and outcomes. As I lay with only my thoughts for a month, prayer and meditation allowed me to slow down and make imperative course corrections.

God is good.

During my trial I saw the distance between me and my Heavenly Father. I was not praying consistently, reading my scriptures or taking time to feel connected to Him.

Right before my last child was born, I had a dream where a little boy came to my bedside and said several times, “Mom, wake up.” I woke up and looked around the room for my son, but there was no child and no signs of anyone coming into my room. I went to check on all my children in their beds and everyone was asleep. As I came back to my room, an impression came to my mind: That was the son you are supposed to have. I ignored the impression, but I knew in my heart that I should have another baby.

Levi is here now, full of vigor and teaching me everyday that life is supposed to be enjoyed and experienced to the fullest. My son truly wanted me to wake up then and now. I see God as the perfect creator and he orchestrated this beautiful family and lessons like this one so I can be better and bold in my testimony of His goodness. Pain is progress with the perspective that God is molding me.

I am a creator.

Time is precious. Too many hours are wasted passively consuming.

I have always loved the Man in the Arena Quote. I am going to replace “man” with “woman” in the quote.

“It is not the critic who counts; not the woman who points out how the strong woman stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the woman who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends herself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if she fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that her place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”― Theodore Roosevelt

I , Lucy Jo Bowman, will not waste my God-given time any longer. There is too much to do and plenty of beauty and goodness to contribute. I pray you will start or continue trying, failing, and trying again.

Authenticity wins.

I have taught many students in my English courses that the best way to connect with others in writing is to be vulnerable and real. For reasons I am discovering through therapy, I have been holding on to perfectionism and it is not serving me or anyone else. I am not suggesting that we share everything, but I have decided that if I am going to say or share something, I want to be authentic validating. The price of connection is being hurt or misunderstood sometimes. I hope that anyone that interacts with me in person or online will find a friend in me.

Be patient.

I learned quickly that my healing was not going to be overnight. We are here to experience trials and joy and live well despite and for them. This experience has shown me that waiting is not to be dreaded, but something to improve. We will all wait for something; it is how we wait that marks our maturity. I especially learn this with pain, with my children and myself. Mastery of patience is a long ways off for me, but I will strive for the rest of my days to wait on the Lord with more acceptance and faith. When has waiting been hard but right for you?

It is okay to change and get to know yourself again.

The person I was before my neck injury is gone. Each life experience I have had is an important part of my story, but I can grow and become eternally. I release the thoughts, ideas and actions that don’t match me anymore.

The future is bright and life is worth living.

Light cuts through the darkness, and I am emerging into a world where I am more content and more aware of the work I have to do. There really is so much to live for.

Remember “The joy we feel has little to do with the circumstances of our life and everything to do with the focus of our life.” –Russell M. Nelson. Keep going, friend!

Thank you for reading. I hope you feel uplifted and ready to act on the impressions you feel today.

Peace and blessings,

Your friend, Lucy

If you are a mom and need some encouragement, here is a post for you.

If you are overwhelmed with your home, let me know if I can help you with interior design or home management.