I’ve had this post in my drafts for nearly a month now, titled: “Healed.”
I have returned here frequently, to click on “Edit Posts,” then on the post titled “Healed.” Each time, I’m greeted by a blank white screen.
The cursor blinks, blinks, blinks. I write nothing.
I ask myself: How can I write a post about being “healed” when the healing isn’t finished?
So the cursor keeps blinking. I click “Save Now,” hiding a blank post titled “Healed” in a secret place.
For weeks, I would wait quietly for the moment to write it. I would wait for the day to celebrate healing.
Today is that day.
Almost four months ago, I was in a car accident on a snowy Iowa highway. The parking brake jammed into my leg, leaving a deep Y-shaped wound. It has been stitched, reopened, drained, restitched, poked, prodded and medicated. I have kept it elevated. I have applied bandages and doctor-prescribed ointments.
And I have prayed for healing. Many of you have prayed with me. Humbled, I thank you.
Last week, my doctor rolled up my left pant leg, took a look at my wound, shook his head and gave me his final word: “There’s nothing more I can do to help you, Jennifer.”
But he said he knew someone who could.
I knew Someone, too.
“Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives.” — Matthew 7:7
On Monday morning, this door was opened: G01, into the Wound Healing Center.
The wound-care doctor told me what I already knew: Something’s wrong. I wasn’t healing properly. This shouldn’t take four months to heal.
Perhaps an infection, he said, or a “chronic seroma.”
He gave me strict orders: wrap the leg — foot to knee — for two weeks straight. If the wrapping and compression don’t work, the doctor said he would surgically remove the seroma (an unhealed mass of tissue and fluid) from inside my leg.
So I wrap snugly, pulling tight fabric over my leg. And I pray. And I believe.
I pray — and I believe — this will be the last step on my journey to healing.
This door of faith has opened: “Believe that you have received it, and it will be yours.” — Mark 11:24
My leg is wrapped. My hands are open. My knees are bent. My Healer is working.
On this side of the Fall, healing to the flesh sometimes comes slowly.
But on this side of the Cross, healing to the Spirit comes fully.
In that case, I am both healing … and already healed.
Today, there is no more blank computer screen, or blinking cursor on an unbelieving post entitled “Healed.” Today there is belief, and there is healing.
And there is this: PUBLISH POST.
I’m pushing the orange button now. For I believe.
By his wounds we are healed. — Isaiah 53:5