In a previous post about healing, I wrote that it takes a partnership between ourselves and God to experience healing.
It also requires admitting when you’re wrong.
Case in point: my longstanding battle with sore feet, aching legs and a consistent backache. I started walking at lunchtime a couple of years ago, just after I discovered my “dream shoes,” the Mercy Croc (see previous post). My feet bounced in them, they were nice and cool in the summer, cozy and waterproof in the winter.
Walking was fun and I loved writing about what I saw on my walks.
Then, all of a sudden, walking became a real drag.
My legs felt like lead again, just like before (I have a chronic foot condition that causes this). Not only that, they hurt. And so did my back. Walking turned from something refreshing and fun to something akin to dragging a ball and chain behind me.
Eventually I stopped walking and felt very discouraged. For all the steps forward I had taken with walking for my health, I felt like I took twice as many backwards.
What went wrong?
I started praying for a healing. This was back in January of 2012.
The answer came a year later but it surely wasn’t God’s fault.
Recently I saw my doctor on an unrelated matter and when I mentioned about my difficulty with walking, he suggested that my shoes were the problem.
“No!” I said. Not my dream shoes, the ones I am totally in love with. The shoes that nurses wear, claiming they can stand in ten to fourteen hours a day in them.
Yes, those shoes!
When a second person mentioned the same thing, I knew I had to explore the option. I dug up my Nikes: the shoes that squish my toes.
Yeah, those shoes.
I’ve since walked twice in them. And today I admitted that my doctor and my friends were right. The added bounce in my step and the lack of pain in my back more than made up for my having to kill my pride in admitting I was wrong.
This led to some other discoveries. Suddenly I remembered that if I stretched everyday for 5 minutes like my foot doctor has told me (over and over again), I would experience less pain. Guess what? He was right!
I then remembered to add glucosamine to my daily vitamin ritual. I dug those out of the kitchen cabinet and miraculously, that worked too.
Why am I so slow to get it?
Who knows? Is it because it was easier to wallow in my misery than to take action to take care of it? I can’t imagine why I would think wallowing would be easier or more desirable, but it is sometimes.
Pride, self-pity and the fancy to play the invalid have no place in the world of healing. Lord, heal me of these things and the stupidity that accompanies them!
Click to Tweet & Share: To be healed, sometimes you have to admit you’re wrong (aka “It’s the shoes, stupid!”) http://ctt.ec/jZ0F9+
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