Struck Down, but not Destroyed


So, a couple months ago I did a thing that I’ve never done before. No, it wasn’t something nearly as exciting as sky diving or climbing a mountain, or whatever it is adventurous people do. I broke my wrist. Now, this is a new experience for me, even though I was a clumsy child that grew into an equally clumsy adult. But, the x-rays over the years always showed a sprain, never a break. Until now!

I’m not going to get into the details of what happened. Suffice it to say that it’s not exciting and largely embarrassing, and every time I’ve tried to tell the story with a few embellishments to save face, my husband has delightedly told the real story. Instead, I’m going to tell you the aftermath.

About a week after the “incident,” Jonny and I flew to Texas to help out with Enspire’s production of The Journey: Rise of the Chosen (shameless plug) at the Keene Camp Meeting. At that point, I was pretty sure my wrist was just sprained, so I kept it wrapped and covered in bio freeze. I ended up being a guard with two fight scenes that we got to practice over and over while my wrist continued to loudly protest. I thought, “Meh. I’ve performed with worse,” and continued on with my life.

Fast forward three weeks and the sprain still wasn’t getting better. In fact, I was pretty sure it was getting worse. After elevating, icing, and wrapping constantly, it was still causing more trouble than a sprain should after being babied for so long (minus the singular sword fighting events). I finally ended up going to the doctor and was forced to sheepishly admit that I hadn’t gotten my wrist checked out beforehand because I didn’t think anything was wrong. Now I was all splinted up, my wrist was comfortably immobile, and I was on my way to the healing process.

Maybe you can already see where I’m going with this. The concept seems so obvious on the surface, but sometimes our jaded selves miss the most obvious things. I should have gathered that something was wrong with my wrist long before I did. But, even so, I’m not an expert at that kind of thing, anyway. My dad is an x-ray tech and my mom is a nurse, and they both warned me, “If it’s a fracture, it will get worse instead of better. If you don’t get it taken care of, you may even end up with an infection.”

Wow, looks like things can escalate quickly if you don’t get them fixed by a professional.   

If I had gone to the doctor right away, my wrist would probably have been a lot farther along in the healing process a lot faster. But I thought I had everything under control.

We tend to do that when our spirits are broken, too. We think, “Oh, it’s actually not that bad. I just have to work through the pain, maybe take something to numb it, and sooner or later it will go away.” In my experience, though, that doesn’t seem to work so well. Humans are pretty feeble. We have to take our wounds to the Great Physician because only he really knows what’s going on. He can x-ray our hearts, if you will. He knows just what’s wrong, what’s holding us back, what’s preventing the pain from going away. Presenting our pain to God is the only way to become whole again. The longer we try to take care of things on our own, the worse things will get.

In a way, pain can be viewed as a blessing. It lets you know that something is wrong. But, if you allow it to stick around, the wound will fester and you’ll be in an even worse pickle than when you started. So, don’t wait until the hurt in your heart gets any more out of hand. Go to Jesus right now. Lay your sticky, uncomfortable, embarrassing burdens at His feet. He will heal you. It will probably not be easy, and it will certainly take some time. It might even hurt. But it’s worth it. Trying to fight the battle while wounded is a recipe for disaster. Only Jesus can make you whole.

Stephanie Wilczynski has been involved with Enspire Productions since 2009. She is pursing an MA in English and Religious Education at Andrews University.