After seminary, I desired a time of healing. All I wanted to do was
rest. To relax. To give my heart and my head time to process all that
happened to me.
After a summer saying goodbye to the
people and places that I loved. I moved to Texas.
I searched for what God had for me
next. I was convinced I had landed
a dream position. I hadn’t (I will talk more about that next time).
There are those who say that God causes
everything that happens to us. There are those who say that God
causes nothing that happens. The truth lies somewhere in the middle.
God is not waiting on the other side. He is not waiting for us to
succeed or fail. Nor is he waiting to give us comfort when we have
finally overcome.
Rather I believe that God is present in
the midst of our lives.
After losing the position, I went numb
for a while. Sleep occupied my days. Well, sleep and Netflix. The fog
began to lift in April. In May the skies were clear again. I felt
confident that I knew what was needed. I felt confident that I could
do what was needed.
On the twenty second of May, I tripped while in the front drive way. I accomplished this feat while stepping over some twigs that were roughly six inches high. As I stumbled face first, I reached out with the palms of my hands to catch myself. The impact of the fall traveled up my left arm and shattered the head of my radius (arm bone on the “outside” if your hands are by your side).
Shattered is not hyperbole.
There were shards of bone now floating
in arm. Surgery was the only option. Surgery was a success. My elbow
is healed and my arm is rehabbing nicely. But we need to back up.
After the initial break, my arm was in
a sling for a week. Then surgery. After surgery, my arm was in a
brace for a week. This was followed by three weeks of slow gradual
improvement in my range of motion coupled with six weeks in a brace
that prevented me from turning my arm so that my palm was facing up.
I felt helpless. I felt useless. I
wondered where God could possibly be in this time.
However, I was forced to slow down, and
in that slowing I found again how to rest in God’s strength.
The healing I experienced during my
time at seminary was an active one. I was in engaged in learning. I
was in engaged in stretching myself beyond my comfort and ease. I was
engaged with friends who taught me more than words can describe.
The healing I received while in Texas
was a passive one. I didn’t have the money for the surgery. I
didn’t have the strength to serve. I didn’t have the faith to
believe that God was present in my pain. I didn’t have the faith to
believe what I was seeking was worth seeking. I had to
ask. I had to receive. I had no other option than to be passive. I
had no other option than wait. I had no other option than to heal.
Dear reader, I am sure you have noticed
that I have moved from speaking of the physical healing of my bones
to speaking of the spiritual healing of learning to receive from
others. Learning to be a piece of a whole. However, it was my broken
bone that allowed this lesson to be received.
My injury provided not only the space
to heal but the analogy of healing as well. Bones will always heal.
No matter what happens bones will grow back together. The nature of
my injury was such that without surgery the shards of bone in my
elbow would have grown into a single mass severely limiting the use
of my left elbow.
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| X-Ray 3 months after surgery |
Things had to be put back together the
way they were meant to be. Time had to pass. I had to wait. I had
to be passive. I had to let the bones do their work.
To receive the healing I sought, things
had to be put back together the way they were meant to be. Time had
to pass. I had to wait. I had to be passive. I had to let God to the
work.
--Healing as a part of a whole, along side all of you,
Just from father away
Just from father away
--Jesse Letourneau
