Plow Through The Pain

A few months ago, my precious mother started experiencing terrible pain in her knee. She went to a chiropractor and obtained temporary relief, but the underlying problem just wouldn't go away. Reluctantly, she consulted a different doctor. The presence of arthritis in her knee was confirmed and surgery was required to correct the problem. Just before Thanksgiving, it was done. During the holidays, she cared for her knee appropriately (well, she overdid it a little, no one can get that chili pepper to stay put), but she wasn't healing as well as she had hoped. For those of you who don't know my mother, she is a tiny woman with bright red hair who never sits still. She hikes all over the hills and mountains of Idaho and even hiked in Moab, Utah last summer. She is the definition of "Zoom, Zoom." Feeling frustrated over her lack of mobility, she sought the counsel of her doctor once again. He was displeased with her recovery as well and referred her to a physical therapist. After 2 weeks of intense therapy, range of motion in her knee still hadn't improved enough. Frightfully, the doctor insisted on a "last ditch" attempt: she needed to come in to the hospital, go under anesthesia, and he would bend that knee to break the scar tissue and free up the joint. She was so nervous about this procedure but knew the choices before her: be maimed for the rest of her life or go through this tremendously painful experience.

Yesterday evening, she called me after she had arrived home from having the bone crunching done. She was happy. The pain was ferocious, almost worse than she could bear, but her prognosis is excellent. The doctor acknowledged the scar tissue was thick and stubborn, but he successfully broke through it and, through a few more weeks of physical therapy, full recovery is expected.

As we talked about her experience, we realized the spiritual likeness in our lives. Oh, so often we are called to travel through experiences that are fierce and flaming. We can either choose to avoid them and remain crippled for eternity, or we can grit our teeth and lift our chin (like my incredible Mama always does) and plow through the pain. As we come out on the other side, we will experience relief, joy, and increased strength.