"The thief cometh not, but for to steal, and to kill, and to destroy: I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly." John 10:10
That verse was quoted over a year and a half ago, during a devotional. I remember thinking to myself, "an abundant life, huh? Well, this isn't exactly what I call 'living the abundant life'."
Let me preface this post with a little background, a little history...
Six years ago, I was bit by a brown recluse spider, as far as I know, anyways. I wasn't specifically diagnosed with it but it caused great pain, swelling and infection in my right leg. It took about 3 months, but my leg did heal up. However, 2 years later, I got another infection in my right leg, in the same spot where the bite was. I was hospitalized but it cleared quickly. A year later, another infection came. This was in 2009 and this time they kept me in the hospital for a week and decided to do a surgery on my leg because they found "pockets of something" during on ultrasound.
They carved the pockets out and wanted my leg to heal from the inside out. Which it did - to a degree.
Following my surgery, they ran all kinds of tests on me and had me see all kinds of specialists to find out why my leg was still swollen and why this was recurring. All the tests turned out fine and no one really gave any answers. So I was frustrated. I stopped making appointments with doctors. I was tired of feeling like a science experiment and paying for all kinds of things and not getting any answers.
That was 3 years ago.
My leg was still healing from the surgery but it wasn't healing very well or quickly. But I ignored it. I would bandage it up and go on. I wasn't going to sit around with my leg elevated all the time. I had stuff to do. I had to go to work and live my life.
For the past 3 years, I've had an open, draining wound on my leg. I know it should not have taken 3 years for this to heal and clear up. I knew I've let too much time pass. I knew it wasn't normal. I knew I should have gone to the doctor but I was afraid. I was afraid they would be condescending. I was afraid they would blame me, I was afraid they wouldn't be able to help me.
I never showed my leg to anyone. I was ashamed of it. I was ashamed of the fact that it hadn't healed. I was ashamed that I had to go home every couple of hours to change my bandages because they would be soaked from the drainage. I was ashamed that I had to have towels around my house because it would just drain and drain and I was too cheap to spend more money on bandages. I was ashamed because my shoe would get wet from the drainage and squeak and squish. I thought everyone could hear it and thought of me as a freak.
I had convinced myself that this was just it. This was part of my life now, so I best not complain about, I best not talk about it, I might as well just live with it as best I can.
That mindset changed last month.
A friend of mine was over and when she was leaving, she noticed I had 2 identical pairs of shoes. She asked why I had 2, to which I replied, because I wear one during the day but after work it's usually damp so I come home, change my bandages and change shoes.
This started a conversation I didn't expect, a conversation I had been avoiding, a conversation I needed but was scared to have. My family had been telling me for years to go to a doctor for my leg but I don't think I was ready until that night. My friend convinced me that it's not normal, that I deserve more.
She asked me if I ever pray about my leg, if I ever ask God to heal it.
Nope.
I didn't like thinking about my leg. When it hurt and was painful, I tried all I could to think of other things. Why would I willingly think about it and talk about it with God?
This isn't exactly something I am glad to admit, considering I know there are plenty of people who did pray for my leg. I felt like such a hypocrite. What kind of faith did I really have? Why didn't I trust God enough? I would organize prayer meetings for other people and talk about how much God has taught me about prayer through other people's lives and here I was, never talking to Him about my leg. We both know it was there. We both know what condition it was in and yet, I never talked to Him about it.
At the prodding of this friend, I made an appointment with a doctor. He took one look at my leg and referred me to a specialist, actually, the surgeon who operated on me 3 years ago. He set up an appointment for me the next day and told me I could not miss it.
So I went, hesitantly and unsure of what to expect, but I went.
I'm glad I went because I found help. I found a doctor who cares, who didn't judge, who didn't blame, who wants to help me and wants to be a partner in helping me get better and take care of this issue. I'm thankful for God providing me with a good doctor, they are not always the easiest to find.
I am now getting treatment for the wound and the underlying condition that I actually have in both of my legs.
For the first time in years, ( I can't believe I wasted so many YEARS) I finally have hope of normal health.
After the first week of treatment, I was amazed. I no longer had to rush home to change my bandages or my socks. I could go to church and by the end of the service, my foot was still dry and although I am not a big fan of all the wrapping I have on my leg, I have seen the results thus far and am incredibly grateful.
I am only a few weeks into this treatment, which may take a few months, but already I have seen my life free up. I have seen where I allowed it to control me, control my thoughts and control my life. I am still ashamed of that but I have to put that behind me because for the first time in years, I am on the road to experiencing that "abundant life" promised in John 10:10.
