What a pain...

My doctor told me once that I have a high tolerance for pain. It was a relief to be "diagnosed" this way, because I never had really known how to handle pain- I'm never sure when it's bad enough to be complained about. The doctor told me that when I went in because my back was out.
I had heard about backs going out, but until mine really went out, I knew what people meant by "out." I had been sleeping on a board, because our bed was old and way too squishy. (Really, a BOARD!) When the doctor asked how long I'd had back pain, I said "well, I guess about 4 years or so." I guess most people address things like this before 4 years go by.
Now my back is out again, but still it's hard to know how to address it. I mean, I feel fine unless I move or sneeze or have to lean one way or another. And even though it feels like stabbing when it happens, it only lasts a minute or so. So I'm being a good soldier, and taking Aleve, and hoping it'll right itself.
Or maybe I'll see a chiropractor. My sister says that no chiropractor will ever tell anyone that they don't need chiropractic care. At the fair this week I had free assessment from one in the "trade hall," one of my favorite buildings there... it's the one where they sell the Sham-wows and the sandpaper hair- remover pads... the chiropractor said that I carry 12 more pounds on my right foot than my left, and noticed that my right shoulder is significantly lower than my left- which I knew, it's been that way since my rainbow-colored book bag from high school.
I thought my surgery would really help my back, and I think it actually has- but surprisingly I have had to relearn how to sit and stand, because my posture is really really different now.
You know what else though? Here's something really painful: the Cleveland Show. Wow, it is a stinker.

epiphany o' the day

Tonight we're watching 20/20, it's one of those freaks-of-nature-for-our-entertainment shows, with a girl who has flipper-like legs and a family who inherits permanent insomnia. They're also featuring a couple of girls who have some kind of syndrome wherein they can't feel physical pain.
On the surface, this sounds like a cool deal, doesn't it?
But of course, these people suffer terrible effects from their disability. They burn themselves with hot water when doing the dishes, break their bones by mistake, and they both wore scars where, for instance, they bit their own lip off during their sleep, not even knowing they'd done it.
I had an epiphany lately, while driving to work- I was thinking about how thankful I am for the things God has taught me. It hit me that all that time that I was wanting God to take care of me through my pain and remove my suffering, He was teaching me. I thought He was being absent from me, but really He was walking with me through experiences that would make me into a wiser me.
Okay, I know this is simple stuff. I did not invent this concept, the strengthening through experience thing. But what was stunning to me was how my expectations of God's responsibility to me had been so way off all that time. I kept asking for what I wanted, and God steadfastly gave me what I needed. As nice as a pain-free life sounds, I know that pain has purpose- and I'm thankful for the pain that God walked me through.