Uncategorized, Walking With Christ

Slow (but steady) Progress

Yesterday I did 20 minutes on the elliptical and 20 minutes of very slow jogging on the treadmill. I was thrilled with this progress, because just two and a half weeks ago I couldn’t really even walk across the room without crutches. Never in my life have I needed crutches, and I hope I never need them again, because they are awful.

It may sound crazy, but when I fell and heard/felt my knee pop and watched it twist to the left with a ski still attached (I still cringe to think of it), my first thought was, “Nooooo! I can’t give up running, Lord. Please don’t make me give up running.” Flashbacks to the recoveries of many a friend and family member from ACL reconstruction surgery filled my mind with dread, and as I tried to pull myself up from an icy patch on the slope I quickly realized that running was not going to be an option in my near future. The pain and instability prevented me from even putting enough weight on my left leg to clip my boot back into my ski.

A visit to my general practitioner on the way home from our weekly ski adventure in Vermont ended with a recommendation to go to the walk-in orthopedic clinic the next morning, and it just now dawned on me how ironic a walk-in orthopedic clinic is. My “walking in” was not very easy or graceful, but I was grateful to not have to wait days or weeks for an appointment.

During x-rays the nurse told me (reluctantly, but I had asked) about her own knee “blow out” due to skiing. On their first run of the day, she had been getting off the lift with her 12 year old daughter, and their skis got tangled. In an effort to protect her daughter and help her safely off the lift, she ended up falling, her skis taking her legs in opposite directions. Next thing she knew she was in excruciating pain and riding on a stretcher-sled down the mountain.

I managed to avoid the stretcher-sled with a 2mph snow plow down the rest of the run after miraculously getting my boot back in my ski. My right leg had to do all the work guiding me down the slope, but I was pretty determined to manage without that dreaded (and humiliating) stretcher. And I wasn’t in a lot of pain…yet.

The x-rays ruled out any fractures, so the Physician’s Assistant began manipulating my knee joint in various directions (more cringing) until he came to the diagnosis of an MCL sprain, meaning some level of injury (severe stretching, slight tear?) had occurred in the medial collateral ligament. He prescribed a large black brace and a reevaluation in one month. At that point, not only was my knee in a lot of pain, but my heart was fighting despair.

I’m a little embarrassed to admit this discouragement, because things could be so much worse. Still, the great mercy that God has had on me in regard to any severe suffering was overshadowed by the limitations that would now be placed on my active life.

This Thursday will mark three weeks since the injury, and it really is feeling better (elliptical…treadmill…no more crutches!), but it’s still not completely healed. I definitely won’t be skiing with Kayla this week. I’ll be sitting in the ski lodge with my black brace and compression socks on again just like last time. There’s stiffness when I bend and straighten, and the pain and instability crops up briefly and unexpectedly.

Woe is me. I’ve been signed up to run a 10k St. Patrick’s Day race for months now.

But the baby steps of recovery from an injury got me thinking about the seemingly slow process it is to heal a sinful, despairing heart.

I’ve come to dislike the term “triggered” because I tend to be suspicious (and cynical) about buzzwords used as political weapons and personal justifications. Everyone seems to be triggered by everything lately, but I suppose I’ll have to count myself among them after watching a couple of semi-disturbing movies and observing my kids walk through different (even exciting) life experiences. Those things, along with this injury, combined to trigger a heap of sadness in my heart and a lot of negative thoughts in my mind.

The movies were so profound and well done. My kids are all doing really great. My knee is going to be just fine. But somehow those good things worked together to remind me of a lot of bad things regarding the life I wish I’d had when I was much younger, the love I longed to experience, the support I desperately needed.

So Monday morning, before I got on the elliptical at Planet Fitness, I got on the treadmill of truth at home.

Feeling weighed down with a lot of sadness and despair, and even anger, since I thought I was all better, I opened my Bible to the place I left off the day before.

This is what I read…

But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, so that the surpassing greatness of the power will be of God and not from ourselves; we are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not despairing; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying about in the body the dying of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our body. For we who live are constantly being delivered over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh. 

II Corinthians 4: 7-11

And this is what I prayed…

Lift the crushing sadness even in the midst of affliction.

Let me not despair even when I’m so confused about why things happened like they did.

When persecution comes, remind me that You’re near.

When others criticize, when the enemy condemns, let it not destroy my confidence in You.

Cause me to remember moment by moment the sacrifice of Jesus for me.

And please manifest the life of Jesus in this mortal flesh.

I might have pleaded that one several times…please Lord, manifest the abundance of Jesus in this dearth of my flesh.

And it doesn’t always happen like this. In fact, I’ve gone years before without feeling any immediate healing or lifted spirits. But on Monday it was almost instant, and I think it may have something to do with the training He’s given me strength to participate in for many, many years in the face of despair. The disciplines of Bible reading and prayer He’s accomplished in me.

(Emphasis on Hisdoing this in me. He faithfully gives me motivation in this area.)

My MCL won’t heal properly without some work on the elliptical or treadmill or bike. Ask any physical therapist and they’ll tell you the same. I certainly won’t be running any 10K races if I neglect the training required to run 6.2 miles.

It’s the same with emotional, spiritual, and mental health, I think. Without consistent training on the treadmill of truth (i.e. reading, meditating on, praying through Scripture) there is only atrophy and a worsening of the symptoms.

Nearing my 50th year of life, I’ve felt frustrated with the slowness of my spiritual and emotional maturity. Three weeks out from an injury, I’ve felt irritated that I can’t just run down the bike path or walk up the stairs.

It’s slow, but truthfully, it’s steady, and He’s not letting me neglect the training that brings ultimate healing.