After my surgery I felt relieved that I had finally started the healing process, with much naïveté I assumed I was on the path to climbing, running, and jumping again- modern medicine works, right? wrong. The surgeons did not know what state they were going to find my foot in, it was strange to say the least. I was informed that the healing could go one of two ways- it does or it doesn’t. “Whaaaat…. there is a possibility that is doesn’t heal?” Well, come to find out the chances ‘it doesn’t heal are far greater than the chances that it does.’ Let me repeat my reaction, “whaaaaaat!?” The best case scenario I received was that I would walk with a cane for the rest of my life- best case scenario=cane. Over four months of weekly x-rays there was no healing. My surgeon informed me that nursing school was probably not going to happen, I would not be able to hike, climb, run, etc. After that appointment I sat in the back of my Honda Fit, crying while my mom drove me home. That drive was a time of mourning the future I had planned, and it was good. This is where the story gets crazy awesome.
I went home and cried with my bible study, cried with my family, and cried alone. During this time I was convinced that the Lord would have His way with me and that if I wasn’t going to be able to walk, He would change my desires and make a new path for me. I never denied the Lord’s goodness, praise God for that. However, I never allowed God to do miracles in my life, although he had done them before, I wasn’t going to risk asking for more. During that week the Lord spoke, and spoke clearly. He asked me to be bold and ask Him for healing. He reaffirmed His voice when I was reading through Luke.