there's a story in the scriptures about a woman who, having suffered for fifteen years with what is described as an "issue of blood" but what i assume was something that we would currently diagnose as endometriosis or fibroids, heard about the Savior and His power. when she knew He was coming, he crawled through a crowd to touch the hem of His garment, knowing that even a minor contact with Him would have the power to heal her. i have to believe that she considered herself unworthy of an audience with Him, feeling like her problem was not enough to warrant such attention, but was desperate enough to look for any road to healing.
i have never thought of this story as anything other than what it is presented as in the scriptures--a story of exceptional faith. i never saw myself in it or felt the personal connection to it that i might have with other stories.
i get it now.
as i was cleaning the kitchen tonight, i stepped back and felt what has become a too-common shooting pain in my left ankle. i don't know what it is--it started last week and i think it might have something to do with the cold--but it is very painful, much more painful than the first few steps in the morning, when i have to lean on any available surface to try to get started.
and these always take me by surprise.
so as i was wincing in pain, my yelp bringing my husband in to see if i was okay (he thought i had cut myself), i said "what if i can never run and play with my kids?"
and i began to cry a little.
while my husband assured me that it will get better (and my mind tells me it will, however frustrated my heart and body are with the slow progress), i thought about this story.
i now completely understand how someone would crawl through a crowd, hands and knees in dirt, being kicked and jostled and paid no mind, to touch the hem of the Savior. beyond the obvious, that it would be such an honor to even be in His presence, i understand that kind of longing desire for healing. i told my husband that i guess, if it never gets better, i will look forward to the resurrection that much more. i long to be whole so much.
i would crawl through any crowd for the chance to run with my daughter through a park. to not face every parking lot with complete terror that she might pull away from me and i will not be able to chase after her. to not be housebound because i haven't figured out how to go down the stairs with both my toddler and my baby and my whacked ankle.
to be whole.
i say this not to elicit sympathy, but to say that i understand, just a little bit better, the Atonement of Jesus Christ. i understand how the power to heal is such a gift.
i wonder, a little more, how i can call upon the power of Heaven to help me in this journey. but mostly i am grateful to have found, yet again, another Someone who understands.