Lessons from the ER: Broken Bones

A karate-jump-gone-bad resulted in two broken bones in a little four-year-old arm last night.  Matt and I spent the evening in the ER, while our tough-guy had to have his arm actually re-set--complete with doctors literally pulling bones, heavy sedation (thankfully), and an i.v. (which Cade kept thinking was "ivy" and couldn't understand why the nurse would be giving him "poisonous ivy" ).  Being the Amazon woman I am (ah-hem), I acutally had to fake having to go to the bathroom so I wouldn't pass out during the procedure.  Needless to say, our night last night was full of broken sleep and tears and the discomfort of restraint for a little boy who is used to anything but.  In two days, we will go to an orthopedic doctor to get the permanent cast put on.  Hopefully, all will heal well, and we won't have to have the "re-setting" procedure repeated again. 

A Deeper Lesson.  And here's what struck me about the bone-breaking and about the re-setting.  First, breaking bones hurts.  It's painful and unexpected and usually nothing the person could have really prevented.  Secondly, the re-setting process hurts too, badly.  There is the twisting and the pulling to get the bones to fit back together correctly.  And while this procedure is terribly painful, the alternative (not re-setting, but letting the broken pieces fuse back together crooked) results in more damage--further pain and the body not functioning as it was designed to. 

And I have to think that there are areas in all of our lives that require a "re-setting" process after our inner broken pieces are recognized. . .  

The broken pieces of our hearts through abuse.  The broken pieces of our relationships because of someone else's choices.  The broken pieces of our opinions of God because of hard circumstances.  The broken pieces of dreams that haven't come to fruition.  The broken pieces of how we view ourselves or others or spirituality. 

And sometimes we have to submit to the re-setting process--the painful correcting of things that have fused back together not-quite-right. . .

The remembering of hard memories.  The confrontation with a good friend.  The re-learning of old habits.  The embracing of a different future than the one imagined.  The wrestling with a God who would let that happen.

I was given a visual picture last night in a cold hospital room with x-ray machines of the excruciating pain and yet the ultimate good of the resetting of broken things.  And there are no easy answers or quick solutions offered here from the ink of this pen--just a recognition physically of a spiritual and emotional reality.