I’m 3 months post-op from left wrist surgery and my hand surgeon says I have “million dollar x-rays”. The bone (broken in 3 places and dislocated) has perfectly healed in place with the help of two plates and numerous pins and screws. I’ll have at least 7 more weeks of occupational therapy and we’ll “talk about golf” at my next appointment around May 1.

It seems like a long time since I broke my wrist in a bike fall in October 2015. Because of lymphedema complications from my breast surgery in 2006, I had abnormal amounts of swelling throughout my arm, wrist and fingers. I still have some puffiness that is slowly resolving. In addition, breast cancer treatment had decreased my bone density, so we weren’t sure if my bones would heal slower, faster or never.

It was six weeks of complete immobility, followed by 6 weeks of limited flexibility exercises. As of this week, all restrictions have been lifted as I continue flexibility and start strengthening exercises. More good news: unless the plates bother me, I won’t have to have another surgery.

I’ve had countless friends praying for me and constantly offering assistance. From near and far, I feel well taken care of and loved. It’s the first time in my life I’ve been utterly helpless where even dressing in the morning was an ordeal and driving while on pain medication was out of the question.

We’ve taken my recovery conservatively and one step at a time, but through it all I had the expectation that I would be healed. Not just a hope or desire, or a prayer for help, but a sincere expectation that I will be fully healed.

For many years, I’d go to God with requests for relationships or jobs, or just to have a deeper faith. They were always desperate pleas, as if I wasn’t worthy, hopeful that God would look kindly this one time and grant me my wish.

It’s different now. No matter whether it is physical, emotional or spiritual healing that I need, I expect that God will heal me. I’ve even come to expect that He will heal me of wounds that I don’t even know I have, or can’t name. His power and love are so grand that I can’t even comprehend his abilities to make me and the world right.

In Acts 5:16, we learn of the early church: “Crowds gathered also from the towns around Jerusalem, bringing their sick and those tormented by impure spirits, and all of them were healed.”

Not some, but all. It is important that when we ask God for healing, we do not do so with meekness and shame, but instead with boldness and expectation. He may not heal us in the way that we think, but He will heal us as His beloved child.

Blessings, my friend,
Agatha