It was about this time of year, a few years ago when I went to see a doctor for some allergy problems. On the way out of the doctor’s office it was raining quite hard outside.
I decided to run really fast to my van, in super-flat plastic flip-flops… which became little water skis sliding me clear across the parking lot and almost directly under my van.
All in a moment I felt: wet, embarrassed (looking to see if anyone was watching), and PAIN. There was a bone sticking out of my wrist. And NAUSEA. I’m gonna be sick.
It was broken- my right arm (and yes I am right handed.) I had to wear a cast for 8 weeks (at that time Noah was 2 and Carter was just 1… both kids still in diapers!)
This was very inconvenient for a stay-at-home mom. But I managed. Couldn’t wait to get that cast off (showers with a plastic bread bag over your arm everyday are just not what they are cracked up to be.)
When the cast finally came off, my arm was still weak. It wasn’t like I could just use it like before. It felt funny and awkward. The skin was different and there was still healing time even after the cast was off.
I was reminded of this time as I think about our oldest son Noah and his battle with epilepsy. It’s been years now and he remains seizure-free. But a tender wound still remains in my heart.
Things still feel weird sometimes with Noah off the special diet that helped him become seizure-free. It was so strict and something we were so accustomed to for over 2 ½ years. At times it can feel uncomfortable being, well, normal.
Maybe my heart is still a little sore. I didn’t even realize that, at the time, that diet was a cast, protecting our hearts, our hopes, our Noah.
Good thing is, it only took a short while to use my arm again like old times. I hardly even think about it! I’d hope to say the same about Noah & his diet. I have a feeling it will be harder to forget, as this experience has challenged and shaped our being, in a very positive way.
Should we even try to forget? It’s a wonderful reminder of His faithfulness and promises, and that miracles still happen today. I shouldn’t suppress a story that might bring hope to one person and strengthen faith in another.
Perhaps it should be a battle scar to proudly bear… interestingly enough, a definition I found of the word ‘scar’ is: a mark left by the healing of an injury.
A scar is there to show that healing has taken place…
the Healer’s signature.
Portions of this post originally published on August 19, 2006.
Read more about Noah’s story here.
Stephanie also blogs at Adventures In Babywearing.