I was drenched to the skin. I could hear my race number keeping a wet fwap, fwap rhythm against my shirt. My feet crunched on wet gravel as if trying to join in the beat. It was late March, and I was far enough into this marathon, that I was questioning my sanity. Near the twenty mile marker and the final turnaround on the trail, I noticed a strange sensation in my left ankle. “Well, get in line,” I thought outloud. That little twitch was the least of my problems. I ached all over, and I had six miles of mud and cold rain to go. I almost missed the finish line I was so much in a hurry to get into something warm and dry. A few days later, I could still feel the tight spot near my ankle, but it didn’t appear to impede my running at all. My stubbornness once again became the armchair physician saying cheerily: “Oh, it will go away on its own.” That’s a familiar prescription I’ve eaten before.
But that little nagging pain didn’t disappear so magically. As spring passed into summer, I tried stretches I found on the internet. No change. I tried wearing different shoes. No perceivable difference. I refrained from running for two weeks. When I started running again, not only did the twitch in my ankle return, it was now accompanied by its first cousin, a sharp pain in my hip. The summer was almost over. The problem wasn’t going anywhere, and neither was I.
I broke down and made an appointment with the doctor. “I don’t want this to become a chronic condition,” I explained to my husband, realizing immediately that after six months, it already was.
The diagnosis was not a stress fracture, but just a case of tendonitis. The doctor gave me a list of simple exercises to do. I was in and out of his office in less than 30 minutes. Humbly at home, I began the exercises, one of which made me look like a flamingo, balancing on the injured leg, eyes open and then eyes closed (not as easy as it sounds). This is ridiculous. But within TWO days, the twitch was almost gone. I couldn’t believe it. After just a couple of weeks of the exercises, the pain had completely departed.
How many times have I rehearsed this same scenario? Glitches don’t go away on their own. I should write that in CAPITAL LETTERS with permanent marker on my brain.
But sometimes physical injuries are not as chronic as relational twinges. A stretched leg muscle is not quite as deadly as unresolved guilt, or anger, or marital issues, or communication problems with your kids or parents or siblings. And that little twinge, well, that is God’s way of letting us know that something is out of balance vertically (with Him) or horizontally (with all those around us). And as time ticks away, a problem easily evolves into a PROBLEM, a chronic condition that is much harder to admit and deal with. Relational glitches don’t go away on their own. Days become months. Months become years. We play “chicken” with our relationships, waiting for the now rock-hard problem to spontaneously dissolve or for the OTHER person to pick up the phone. And that little harsh word long ago, those hurt feelings are etched into our being, things that should never have become a handicap, a chronic illness never intended. Figure it out. Get help. It doesn’t have to be this way. That is why God gave us grace to forgive and be forgiven, to let go of the bitterness, tear up the debt, and let the relationship mend.
I swallowed my pride as I stood like a flamingo, regretting that I didn’t seek a resolution months ago.
The first step in healing is being willing to do what it takes.
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