Yesterday was an exciting day. It was also a lot to process.
It should be a recap, and will be soon when I catch this up 😜 In October, I had an old injury on my foot cleaned up that had grown into scar tissue and a cyst. It was always a “one day I will” until Jenn and I made a deal that we would take turns, both get fixed up and take care of each other and our 47 combined children. 😂
She held up her end of the bargain, healed by Jesus. Even if that wasn’t at all how any of us expected it. It was my turn.
What should have been an easy “no walking for 2 weeks” then “a few weeks of taking it easy” turned into 3 Dr’s shaking their heads because it just wasn’t healing. Being on the pad below the pinky toe, it is (they said) the hardest spot on the body to heal. The feet are hard, lacking blood flow. The bottoms take such pressure from the weight of the body on those little bones and little padding. But the body needs to feel the pressure so it knows how much padding to rebuild. Out of the 10 factors that contribute to non-healing wounds, I had one. One. Most, they said, have 6-8. I had 1.
Finally, after 17 weeks, 7 weeks going to the wound center 1-2 times a week, it is finally closed. Healed. Not 100% but will be.
What changed? My perspective. Only having God to lean on for healing. I broke 7 weeks ago. And broke further 3 weeks ago. Once again what *I* was doing wasn’t enough, nor was it where my focus should have been. I did everything the Dr’s said to do. Walk some, I did. Stay off, I did. Walk as much as you can tolerate, I did. Change this bandage 3 times a day, shove this cloth drenched in buffered bleach solution in it, I did. Well Mr did, I couldn’t see it.😜 The first 48 hours the cast was on saw a huge reduction, some measurements were half! Great! I can do another week in a cast! I got this!
I wish I learned things the easy way. But I don’t. God has to break me to rebuild an improved me. I had to blindly trust. The Dr’s, that nothing bad was happening beneath the cast that enclosed an open wound, God and His power, myself. All of which has been greatly shaken the last few years. There was no way to check and measure except once a week when they cut the cast off to have a look. I literally could only go on how it was feeling. Nothing measurable, nothing concrete. Feelings, in all its subjective glory.
There were days I panicked, weeks when anxiety was my ever-present companion. But there were days, and then weeks, of unexplainable peace. And a whole lot of time to reflect and fight to figure out how to “be still and know that He is God”. Wish I could say I mastered it. I have only just begun to crawl.
I hit the bottom. A week of no progress followed by a week of regression did it. I just couldn’t anymore. My healing wasn’t up to me. Or the Dr’s. It was up to God. Someone offered to lay hands and pray. Sure, what could it hurt? Prayers always good. Yall! 2 days later – shock! Half healed! Impressive God. But that doesn’t mean You’re going to finish it in the time I think it should. If I’ve learned anything, it’s that. 😂
The next weekend someone else asked. Sure, why not. The next day – even more shock! Not because it happened but because I think I knew but as afraid to hope. It was fully closed! Healed so much they didn’t feel the “just in case do an extra week in a cast” that is normal was necessary. And they expect a full healing!
There is so much to process from this experience. I have grown, I have been broadened. And all the Glory goes to Him, the ultimate healer. The muscles strength, the ability to stretch and soreness from the rediscovered pressure of walking are only secondary issues and will subside. Hopefully next week I will hear those beautiful words “You are healed, go in peace” or “go get a pedicure”. Either works. 😜 💖💖