In the Name of Research

Ask any writer what the last thing they googled was, and you'll come up with some pretty ridiculous answers.
"How much do broken ribs hurt?"
"Can a sword pierce through bone?"
"Did Vikings wear underwear?"
Turns out they did.  The last thing I googled was actually "Playing with the Big Boys Now," a song from Dreamwork's Prince of Egypt.  I wanted to mess up the lyrics and give the song a dental theme: "By the power of Floss!"

Turns out, it's hard to find dental-themed words that rhyme with the names of Egyptian gods.
....Where was I?  Oh, yes, Google search history.  Googling things is actually the easy part; it's the hands-on research that really gets me.  Try hopping down stairs on one foot and you'll catch my point.  Next on my list is to see if touching cold metal with wet skin really can cause frostbite.  I wonder if I can just put a spoon in the freezer and call it a day.
Of course, some research actually takes some hard work.  More than anything, it takes time.  The best research doesn't come from a website, a book, or Google Translate.  It comes from a life of experience.  I know what it's like to be afraid, what it's like to hide in my bedroom and pretend I don't hear the screaming outside.  But I also know what it's like to overcome those things.  Every panic attack, every page of my Bible, every stitch of crochet and dying basil plant taught me something.  Most importantly, it taught me to be myself.
Do you remember the bike wreck I told you about in my last post?  Well, it landed me with a concussion.  God helped me take what I felt--the spinning head, the blurry vision, the ringing ears--and turn it into Alynn's shock symptoms after the invasion.
I hope you've never had a concussion, but I know you've done some of your own personal "research" that you've learned from.  What's the best lesson life's taught you?  I'd love to hear in the comments below!  God bless, and have a wonderful week!