My husband once told me that he was attracted to me in part because I often wore dresses so when he suggested that we build our own house I wondered if he knew who he was talking to.
I was not a big or strong girl and the idea of there being more than one type of nail confused me. I agreed to take on this project and would do whatever I could to be helpful.
Our home was coming along well by late fall and my husband was working on the plumbing. He gave me the task of picking up one ten foot plastic pipe and delivering it to our property. Carrying the piece was awkward and a struggle. It was almost twice my size in height and the ground was icy. A swift Michigan wind shoved me backwards, and I lost my balance causing me to slip and fall. My thumb burned with pain and I sat stunned for a moment wondering why it hurt there. I picked myself up and drug the pipe into the garage where I heaved it before leaving.
When I arrived home I brewed chamomile tea. I put the cup to my lips and the fingers of my right hand stabbed with electric-like shocks. The agony moved up my arm, intensifying in my elbow. I cried for hours before making a trip to the emergency room that brought me little relief and no answers.
Weeks turned into months as I went from doctor to hospitals. The medications made me tired, but I couldn't sleep. The responsibility of caring for my two young children became torture and I felt guilty each day because I wasn't able to help my husband as I'd promised. I considered suicide more than a few times. It seemed as though my condition was never ending. I questioned the Lord as to why he would let me go through this. I became angry with God and pushed him away.
My strong words directed at my physician convinced him to refer me to a specialist. The new doctor ordered a cat scan and I was diagnosed with a ruptured disk. Surgery was scheduled the following week where a small piece of bone would be removed from my hip,a cut would be made through the front of my neck and my donation would be used as the fusion. I had some hope.
Two days prior to my procedure my health insurance company called to inform me that they wouldn't pay for my Neurologist. He wasn't a participating physician. Trying not to sob aloud, I phoned to cancel. The staff put me on hold and minutes later I heard the Indian accent of the doctor. I explained my situation.
"You have already lost partial use of your arm." He said. "If you delay this your condition will only worsen."
I don't have thousands of dollars to pay you." I told him, "I'm a stay at home mom. I don't earn an income."
"I will waive my fee then." He said astounding me.
I wore a neck brace for weeks and the surgery seemed a success. But one day all the pain came back. Discouraged, I hesitantly phone the doctor. He told me to lie down flat for three days; no pillow, and to only get up to use the bathroom.
By the second day I was still racked with pain. I finally broke down and cried out, "Lord, I just can't take this anymore! Please, God, please just help me!"
And he did.
A calm came over me and within twenty minutes I was pain free. Nineteen years have gone by and I have spent over three thousand three hundred and forty seven days with limited use of my arm. Each day has been a blessing, a reminder of where to find my expert. Instead of making God my last resort I now go to him first.
Looking back, I can see where the Lord was helping me, even though my attitude towards him was unworthy. I'm grateful for God's grace.
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