and it's there

I'm not "whole" or whatever.

But I'm having a good time.

People always expect me to be in constant sadness, pain, regret, discomfort, or to be constantly worrying about my hand. I'm used to it now, but the last one was weird for a while. I'd be asked in line at the store, "Does that hurt?" and I'd think, "What, scratching my elbow?... Oh, right."

Thing is, I'm having a good time, most of the time. Maybe even better than before.

As a character in my novel-in-writing put it, "Life is in searching for reasons to live and making them make sense. We don't look for reasons to die... some people want to die, because they don't have enough reason to live. I feel so sorry for them, they have such a big need to satisfy. Some people are the opposite--it's just a few things they're in want of and they can be happy forever. But you and me, Rachel, we have to look for our reasons to live, day after day. I don't know what my reason is, but you know what? It's there. And it's there. They're everywhere, if that's your taste."

I think she (technically, I) was right, and the funny thing is, since this happened, I've found I have more reason to live (and happily), not less. It's like it's become easier to find the presence of God. Walking in the woods, on a leafy path across from the warm August sunset, or having someone open the church door for you, or smile and wish you well instead of bemoan your fate--I just forget about everything bad and feel, well, "whole".

Those who know me know that I had a share of emotional pain a while back (and the funny thing about that is it's exactly the same real or imagined), as a typical teenager (hah!). But until my accident I'd never experienced physical pain to speak of. It opened my eyes, really. You have to be blind or stupid to think the worst thing that can happen to you is unrequited love when you're 16, to reproach myself. And of course I'm getting off easy! I'll be fine in time!

There's a verse in the Bible where God says he will take those with him to heaven and restore them and make them holy. To be honest, I never felt like that was even... something I looked forward to. But once I had been broken, I realized I'm not whole, and I never was, and I need to be restored. I really need that healing, both for body and soul.

And it's there.

--

(Endnote: I also note some parallels between my healing and how we as Christians behave. In short, I give my time each day, every day, in 2-3 hours of painfully teaching my hand how the heck it's supposed to move, my fingers how to bend. Even if my body is repairing the structure, even if I believe and know it's true, this is a process that is impossible without pouring will and effort into it.

The interesting thing about it is that recently, my fingers have been feeling like moving and wiggling even in bandages under the cast, without my thinking about it. Doing the good work, whatever it might be, may at first seem like a "chore" or "something you have to do", but in time it becomes nature--or rather you realize that love and godliness is your nature, just as I am trying by great effort to restore my hand to its original... "whole"ness.)