I’ve been learning a lot about pain, wounds, and healing this month.
One of my biggest takeaways is that healing is exhausting.
The last few weeks have been a blur of exhaustion. Work has taken every ounce of energy that healing hasn’t taken. I’ve been grossed out at my body, tired of seeing medical professionals, and hopeless that my arm will ever function normally. Nerve damage is painful. Oozing wounds are disgusting. Anxiety is debilitating.
I was explaining my medical overwhelm to a doctor this week, and she stopped writing, came over to me, and took my face in her hands. She looked me in the eyes and said “You are healing. You really are!”
At that statement, I felt release from:
Some of the worry.
Some of the disgust.
Some of the anger.
And I also felt a surge of hope.
In the midst of pain, open wounds, and sleepless worry-filled nights it’s hard to keep perspective.
Sometimes in the thick of it, we need someone who knows us or who knows what healing looks like to say “You are healing, I promise.”
To me, my wounds still looked oozy and red and hopeless, but to the one who knows healing, they looked ok.
And in the midst of darkness, ok sounds like a glimmer of hope.
Surely you know someone in your life who is wounded – our world is full of heartache and pain. Reach out to them, take their face in your hands and offer them the hope that they are healing, because they probably don’t feel like they are.
Hope is the best balm for deep wounds.