My injury and illness gifted me permission. Permission to go inside and find healing. The messages around me and in me all my life had been the opposite, despite some of my various attempts to challenge them. But my body was such a wreck anyhow, what choice did I have?
Interesting, because I'm a professional counselor. My career values people going inside, to the "hidden things" to find healing. I entered this profession before this critical permission entered in; I believe that many of us in the ministry, helping, and healing professions are trying to find a way to heal without having to go inside for ourselves. I get that, on so many levels. I also believe we need to.
Thankfully and gratefully, I did not have a choice. I don't think I would have willfully took such a journey: I was so young and embroiled in my own patterns and afraid. Yes, yes: I was involved in a small group, and therapy group, and etc, etc. Yes - I desired to. But my circumstances found my need all the more better; God did.
I was so undone, that suddenly I had some boldness that I had not had before. Boldness to be brutally honest with my family, my friends, myself, and my God. And it was there and within that I began to find some healing that I did not imagine was available to people like me. Especially with a body that was going through the wringer.