Learning to Walk Again
How I Leaned on the Lord in My Most Difficult Times
I stand wearing a huge, metal, robotic-type cast on my leg from hip to foot, feeling like Iron Woman. When I walk, you can hear me coming, clanking down the path. The bracing chafes at my skin, while my spine, other hip, and the other leg strain to balance with the unwieldy contraption. Pain. Shame.
The most difficult time in my adult life was when I was totally lame for five years, and partially lame the years following, due to a surgical accident. I couldn’t walk without an assisted device. Immobile. I was diagnosed with leg paralysis, palsy, polio in effect, having zero nerve function to activate my quadriceps.
This life-changing incident was supposed to be a scheduled “normal” outpatient abdominal lesion excision the afternoon before Thanksgiving. My surgeon had explained that by next Monday I would be standing in front of the classroom teaching university English. Instead, when I got up from anesthesia, I collapsed into my husband’s arms. When I was transferred to the main hospital, waiting for someone to tell me what happened, the surgery anesthesiologist whispered to me – my femoral nerve had been accidentally cut out and disposed of in the trash at the surgery site. I shuddered.
Doctors told me I’d never walk normally again. I stared in disbelief. How could it be? Having enjoyed sports, playing and coaching tennis around the world, now I sat on the edge of my bed looking out the window, staring out at the street as neighbors walked dogs and operated cars. Neither could I walk or drive. In the past I thought people weak who considered suicide. Now I understood how they felt. No one wants to burden their family; maybe it would be better if I were dead. I felt God nudge me to stay alive no matter how gruesomely dysfunctional and disfigured.
Then followed a progression of modalities: wheelchair, walker, crutches, cane, walking sticks. Learning to slide down the stairs on my rear, and pulling myself up backwards. Helpful and non-helpful therapists rallied to regenerate my brain-nerve-body connection.
Persuaded to join our church’s Holy Land trip five years later, I narrowly completed the laborious grade to the Garden of Gethsemane on crutches. Overwhelmed, resting on a bench, relieved I made it, I felt the presence of Jesus beside me. He comforted me, making me feel He understood the difficult way forward. I thought of his painful passage on the Via Dolorosa (Jesus’s walk to the cross) in the Old City of Jerusalem. Amazed at what He’d done for me, I realized I could try a little longer, work a little harder.
Prayers, mentors, meditation, church, journaling, fellowship groups, life goals, consistent physical therapy, and the work of the Holy Spirit helped me through.
Silver and Gold Have I None
The old song my parents taught me, “Silver and Gold Have I None,” reminded me of how the disciples healed the lame man—not by giving him wealth, but by saying, “In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and walk. Walking and leaping and praising God. . .” My prayer was to be like the one who Peter lifted up and whose feet and ankle bones immediately received strength. A person walking, leaping, praising God. A gifted Christian prayer warrior, prayed over me at the Pool of Bethesda, where Jesus once healed a paralytic man. I clung to this hope. I was growing in my faith and getting stronger, but still not quite walking under my own strength..
Seven years into my recovery, a disturbing fact hit me: I’d had too many “setbacks,” which limited my progress. My poor brain struggled to rewire instructions to working muscles. Some muscles were atrophied. Unbalanced, I’d fallen several times. One spill required surgery and a hip replacement. At this rate, other joints may not survive even if my weak leg muscles grew stronger or other muscles joined in to support the effort. A team of experts in nerve conduction, chiropractic, osteopathy, and physical therapy gathered around me. We worked hard.
Taking intentional breaks, I sought sustenance from nature with my family and God: escaping to mountains, taking boats out on lakes, relishing the company of tall trees, breathing in fresh air, strolling near rivers and beaches. I couldn’t get enough of God’s creation. My spirit was soaring even as my leg struggled to keep up.
At the same time, another large battle loomed. My anger was blocking me. How could I get over my anger at the surgeon who delivered “substandard care”? I mentally restrained my thought-bursts. Just when I thought I had controlled my temper, I’d feel a limitation (“I’ll never run after my kids or grandkids!”) or a disappointment (“Camino de Santiago pilgrims will venture on without me”) invaded my consciousness. Triggered, my anger roared up to torment me.
I forgave my surgeon. Again. And again. This would not be “one and done.” To get over anger about my condition took addressing layer after layer of hurt with God’s guidance and support from others. This emotional/spiritual growth morphed into praying for others, leading discipleship groups, restoring relationships, and taking responsibility for positive thoughts as well as actions.
Placing healing Scripture in daily sight jogged my mind and spirit into believing God’s power. Once while housekeeping, I pulled a tablecloth off an end table to find under the glass a note card I’d placed there before the accident. With teary eyes, I read Luke 1:37: “For nothing will be impossible with God.” A companion verse on my kitchen desk is Matthew 19:26: “With men this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.”
Improvement? Yes. Complete? No. I’ve healed a miraculous amount. I no longer have to wear a robotic brace. Corrosive anger no longer corrupts me. I can take a breath and praise my Maker. During short social functions, I walk with a normal gait in comfortable shoes. Walking sticks support me as I tackle a nature trail. Light Pilates, yoga, pool, gym, travel, tai chi are all doable. Good times. I live in His ability to sustain me. And lean on the lyrics “Silver and gold have I none, but such as I have, give I thee.”
Books guiding me on the path include:
Miracles, Eric Metaxas – coming closer to Jesus and His desire for our wholeness through supernatural healings.
The Healing Power of God, Stan Jantz – understanding God’s could work miracles in my life when I let Him.
Uncharted, Ines Franklin – finding the Lord counsels others on a broken road.
Listening and Inner Healing Prayer, Rusty Rustenbach – healing wounds and past losses.
