Fractured Healing
Photo by Owen Beard on Unsplash
Two months ago I took Stella outside for her last potty break before her bedtime. By her forceful pull of me on her leash I determined she needed to "go number 2.” However, it was dark and I had no light to navigate our way. Never mind the fact that she knew and I could have trusted her. However, I didn’t want to go that far in the backyard. Instead, I insisted my strength and pulled her back in the opposite direction toward the front yard. She still wouldn’t “go number 2.” I elected to take her inside the house and outside the back door for her to finish her business. At least this option allowed me to turn on the light to illuminate our path. The stairs were damp from light rain. As Stella pulled me down quickly, still having to potty, I slipped, went airborne and landed on my face in the grass, but not before attempting to use my hand to break my fall. My original refusal to move for just a brief amount of time in the dark resulted in a two month journey that remains ongoing with a fractured hand, in unfamiliar territory. Every time when I think or assume that the pain should no longer be present, I’m reminded that fractures take time to heal.
I grew up with monumental problems being solved in less than 30 minutes. For example, teenagers who experimented with their friends’ medication, demonstrate characteristics unlike themselves, parents confronted the behavior, an admission was shared, a solution, followed by an embrace. Other times, difficulty would be solved in an hour long format; and if more complications accompanied the situation, we see “to be continued” pop up on the screen. In contrast, brokenness in life rarely can be addressed and resolved so quickly. I can perform so much more now with my fractured hand, but every now and then I turn a doorknob too far and I’m reminded that I’m still healing. The same is true in the natural. We may think we can return to some places, engage with some people or return to performing some task and our bodies respond - physically, mentally, emotionally or spiritually as gentle tugs to affirm that we are still navigating our way in a bit of darkness.
Psalm 34:19-20 reads, “The righteous person may have many troubles, but the Lord delivers him from them all; he protects all his bones, not one of them will be broken.” Jesus is our example. As horrific as the darkness that he assumed to die on the cross for our sins, scripture tells us that none of his bones were broken, which is not a commonplace for a crucifixion. Yet people experience broken bones, fractured hands, broken hearts, fractured relationships and brokenness and fractures comprehensively in many areas of life and holistically in our broader communities. Further, many factors play a significant role in our healing of fractures and brokenness; age, location of the break, severity of the injury and status of one’s health prior to the incident. If we consider these conditions in relation to our individual assessment, we may understand how one person can seemingly “get over something” quickly while others continue to stumble in the darkness.
Before we move quickly to judgment, or refuse to walk in the dark with someone else while they find their way, or insist that we know best for what they need, perhaps align with them; perhaps we consider the magnitude of the fracture they’ve experienced. Some folx are staggering, carrying the same load of “waste” as Stella; wasted time, wasted energy, wasted hope. They’ve found no safe place to release. We might extend a bit of grace and serve as a trusted confident in an orbit of people, places and things they’ve been harmed by. I’m still triggered when I have to take Stella outside after it’s rained. I’m reminded of my fracture when I type, attempt open a can, drive (as I’ve always used my left hand) and even trying to snap my finger. Why is it so hard for us to believe that similarly, others can be triggered and more importantly from situations that are far more dark? To be sure, our Creator sees and knows and offers solace; and while we share space and breath with others, we can serve as light as they continue to find their way to healing, fractured and all.