Let me tell you a story.

A story that began over two years ago.

During my senior year, I was blessed to be able to play volleyball, as a home schooler, at Coffee County Central High School.

While playing in a tournament one day, I was injured.  What started out as minor abdominal pain increased to a level of pain that kept me out of the game for a week.  However, if it would have been up to me, I would not have set out at all.

Despite the intense pain, and the advice that I received, I decided to continue playing for the remainder of the season.  (Which I still believe was the right choice for me.)

Although I still do not regret continuing to play with this unknown injury and pain, I was not aware then of the impact that it would have on my life.

As the season came to an end, I anticipated that the pain would also end.  However, I was wrong.

About 6 months after the initial injury transpired, I began seeing doctors to find out what I could do to keep from hurting all the time.

After seeking assistance from a local doctor, I started having tests and scans done to see if the cause of the hurt could be found.  When nothing was found on my 3 X-Rays, 1 ultrasound, and my first MRI, I began my first round of physical therapy to see if this could cause relief.  I was hoping that it would help ease the pain, but only found that the more I worked in therapy, the higher the pain level I would feel.

After a few months of looking for an answer locally, I began seeing a doctor in Nashville who is known for his work with injured athletes.  The initial tests were coming up with the same results as before: confusion and empty.

Once again, I had to have a new MRI after a medication prescription failed to produce the results needed.  This time, the test showed that I did in fact have two sports hernias around my abdominal wall. Also, once again, I began a second round of physical therapy after being able to isolate the location of the injury more specifically.  This seemed to help some, but ended in the same way the first round did: the more I worked in therapy, the more pain I began to feel.  So, I stopped going.

At this point, I was frustrated.  Not with anyone or anything, I just wanted an answer and a solution.  So far in this story, neither of those two needs had been available to me.

I took a break from doctors for a while to see, yet again, if the pain would go away on its own.  I would go for a time with no sports, gym, heavy lifting, or anything remotely similar.  Then, when that would not work, I would try doing minor exercises to try to build strength within the torn abdominals.

No matter what I tried, the pain never went away completely.

After more than two years of dealing with this shooting and stabbing pain in my abdominals, my mom and I traveled to St. Louis, Missouri, to visit a new doctor hoping for new answers. 

This whole time I had my mind set on one solution:  Surgery.

I knew all along that God’s plan was the best and what I had been praying for all along, but I have always liked to try to figure things out in my mind, too.  And at that point, I thought that surgery would be the only answer and solution for the pain that I was still feeling.

Sitting and talking to a third doctor brought up the same questions and confusions.  The only difference is that this doctor gave me a solution that he felt would provide some relief to the pain that I had been living with for over two years.

Still though, I was saddened at the thought that this might be yet another failed attempt to get rid of the pain.  I knew there was pain, I knew that it was affecting me and my life, but it still seemed that there would be no simple solution since there were still question as to what was causing the pain.

But, since the doctor said he might have a solution, I tried it.

 Guess what.

The solution was NOT surgery.  I guess I didn’t have it all figured out.

The solution he gave was 5 steroid injections into the region of my abdomen that had been causing me so much intense pain for over 2 years.

I left that doctor content, anxious, sore, and with instructions to call back with a progress report in a month.

Today, I called back.

I shared the progress that I have made.  I shared that for the first time in 2 years, I was able to vacuum with no pain.  I shared that I have begun going to the gym and running again without major pain in over 2 years.  I shared that while I still feel very minor pain, I feel more relief than I have in over 2 years.

I was told that there would be no need for me to call back unless the pain were to come back strong again, but they felt like this much progress was a very good sign.

Now, just like with most stories, this has a greater meaning to it.

I am sharing this because of one simple reason:

MY GOD IS AMAZING.

Never once did I doubt His timing or His ability to heal.  But, there were so many times that I didn’t know how long it would take.

I know in the grand scheme of things, stabbing abdominal pain may not seem like much, but it truly altered, and somewhat controlled, part of my life.

I want this story to mean something to people though.

I don’t know who might be hurting, physically or mentally.  I don’t know how long you have been struggling.  But, I want you to know that you can and will be healed.

The healing might not come when or how you want it to.

But, I can promise you that He will provide for your every need, every hurt, and every pain.

Do not ever doubt His Almighty Power.

He is so beyond capable of things we cannot even begin to imagine.

Never once should we doubt or question the Lord, or His timing.

Today, I claim-in the amazing name of Jesus-that I am HEALED.

And today, I want you to claim His healing, too.