Scars Hurt

I was thinking this too …

You see the scars on my feet.  one of them still hurts when it gets poked.  Less than it did a couple of years ago, but still … not fun.

And I don’t think that’s all that weird.  The doctor reset my bones and did some nerve damage.  The second doctor fixed the nerve damage (and took the screws out of my foot) as much as he could, but nothing is perfect.  (The scars are also smaller than they were.  Yeah, they were worse).  So, I don’t wonder why my foot hurts when you poke it.

But there are parts of my heart that hurt when you poke them, and that always surprises me.  Because I’m a Christian, when healing happens, the memories and the pain go away?

The scar on my hand doesn’t hurt, but it’s ugly.  I try to keep it out of the light so it will (maybe?) be less apparent.  It’s less than a year old.  Maybe it will get better.  I’m ashamed of the ugly, and ashamed of how it got there (I was stupid and prideful, and I got exactly what I deserved for my carelessness).

I can walk pretty well these days.  When I get up in the morning, or after a busy day and then sitting, I still am stiff, and I limp.  But I get things warmed up and move around just fine.

I expect the wrong things from myself.  I expect painlessness, when I should shoot for vulnerability.   And oddly, that keeps me from healing all that I should.  You know, the doctors told me to wear steel-soled boots and super supportive footgear, but the best thing for my foot has been all the time I spend without any shoes at all.   After all, I learned in physical therapy that there was bad pain and good pain. You work through the good pain (or accept it as a job well done) and you stop dead when you hit bad pain.

The goal of transparency, of not trying to protect myself … those things will come when I learn to relax and accept where I am, instead of trying to make it not-have-been.  It is when I accept my weaknesses and confess them that they are healed – not when I pretend that they are not there.

….

this isn’t the most organized thing I’ve ever written, but it’s an extended comment on the last blog to myself, mostly… so I’m going to leave it as is.

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