#brokenbeautiful

You know that feeling you get when something that you've struggled with so long is FINALLY taking a turn and getting better? It's beautiful, isn't it?!

I was pondering physical therapy the other day (well, lots of days, lately - prospective careers demand a great deal of pondering). I have had such great experiences with therapy - all three rounds of it. The hardest exercises in the world, the easiest, learning how to use new machines, learning new stretches and how to decide what pain relief technique is the best, and when....and, of course, when to "STOP EXERCISING, MICHELLE" because the injured place hurts....a lesson in self-control that I needed a lot.  

So much fun. (La, la, la...)

But in my thinking, I realized that none of my therapy experiences have ever made me better. That was a rather startling thought, and took some time to digest. 

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The first time, with my awesome PT from Summa, my hip pain got worse and worse. I was doing the most murderously hard exercises this world has known (for my gluteus medius = BFF), but they didn't help. I remember so vividly, my PT talking with my mom and I, suggesting I take a very extended break from dance because she had no idea what was wrong. It broke my heart, but that was when God led me to Urban Vision, so it worked for good :). There was healing, just not in the way I expected.

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The second time was with the same dear lady, only for spondy. It was so great to see her again (the therapy room felt like home), and this adventure was far more exciting. She went on and on about how my "corset" was NOT a proper back brace and went on invent a little insert for it and then to bother my sports med dr to write a prescription for a turtle shell. 

And then she got very vexed that my back was getting worse (surprise!) and sent me to a new doctor, at Akron Children's Hospital :).

(He is the best, FYI. Telling me not to use all the big medical terms was a blow, but in the end, he ended up being just what my back needed.)

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The third therapy adventure happened after using the TENS unit and wearing the turtle shell and sitting on my bum for an eternity didn't work. Honestly, I wasn't expecting very much from the therapy at Children's....so much was a mess in my heart, and it didn't seem especially convenient to have to try therapy AGAIN. I wanted to go back to familiarity, where at least I felt safe, and just get better. Being a textbook-normal patient. (NEVER happening.)

But wow, my opinion changed after evaluation!

I can't tell you how much therapy, and my new PT, blessed me. What still makes me smile and wonder at God's goodness is how my "I'm doing fine" mask just didn't work at therapy. I tried to hide the depression and sadness and self-hatred....and I got very good and natural at it. But literally not more than 2 weeks in, my PT was commenting left and right, "Michelle, you don't give yourself any credit!" "MICHELLE. Think positive." ".......Your last therapy experience must have traumatized you; you answered more questions about that exercise than I would have even thought to ask....." 

I will end this now, before you read about every single hour spent in pure joy at therapy. :) (And no, in case you were wondering....my back wasn't better in the end. it still isn't. God is still Jehovah Rapha.)

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After the first time, and the second and third times combined, I experienced the most wonderful healing ever. Healing in my heart.....healing to say goodbye to dancing and hello to urban ministry. Healing to accept that brokenness is beautiful; that weakness is NOT the end of the world, but instead a place to grow and see God's power thrive. It's the most beautiful thing int he world!!!!

Friends, on a very personal level, where I needed to be healed the most - even more than lingering back pain or difficulty breathing - was to stop trying to prove myself strong enough. My frustration in doing pilates preparation exercises, or doing an exercise that seemed easy but hurt my back was all rooted in that - I wanted to be strong enough. Not weak and helpless and "oops I can't walk for more than a mile; my back hurts." "sorry, i can't scrub floors right now..." "oh darn, I can't work on my research paper. sitting hurts."

All of it was having to give up, to accept weakness. And I'm not saying that we shouldn't work to improve, or shouldn't give up fighting a sin. We totally should. But there are times when we strive to be who we aren't, who we weren't meant to be at the moment, and it's a rotten mess. We do need to work to become the people who God created us to be, and that takes time! And moaning about not being perfect at the beginning - or even middle - of the journey, is pointless. No, press on to the goal!

So what has physical therapy taught me? To think positive; to see pain as a new adventure and learning experience. But also to say that it's okay to be broken. And knowing how much therapy has helped me that way, I'm excited to love other people the same way....people who probably had so much more to loose in a sports-related injury than I did.  To love them and encourage them and to remind them that healing takes time.....but even the process of healing is beautiful. Just like my physical therapist did for me. I am so excited.