Out of Whack

So...I went to the chiropractor yesterday.  Made the appointment Monday.  I've had some pain in my arm.  Lived with it for a while, thought it would go away.  You know, like you do.  And yeah, I've LIVED with it, lived with it.  You know.  Moved furniture.  Carried groceries and books.  Took the tubs of Christmas decorations to the basement.  Then realized that I had not seen particular decorations so MOVED THE TUBS to find what I was looking for, and restacked them.  Over my head.  Lugged laundry up and down the stairs.  LAID ON IT TO SLEEP TRY TO SLEEP.  Picked up little kids at church and playgroup.   Pulled my hair back with one hand while putting clip/band/barrette in with other hand. Reached behind myself to fasten bra Fastened bra in front and turned it the right way.  You know.  LIVED with it.

I let out a yell when he popped it back in.  One Hal heard in the waiting room.  Dude told me to count to 4 - I didn't even get to 2.  Yeah, he's a wise doctor.  If only I had been wise enough to go sooner.

We live with pain a lot, don't we?  Staying in bad relationships because we're used to them, and have been living with the hurt so long we are afraid to let it go - better to feel pain than feel nothing, one friend told me.  Is that really better?  Staying in a job we hate, because someone, somewhere along the way told us that what we loved, what we wanted to do with our lives, was a waste, was not a way to support ourselves, let alone a family (because, after all, we had to go out and start with the McMansion, the new vehicles, designer clothes, we couldn't live in a small apartment or buy anything used).  Do those "things" make us as happy as the dreams we once had, using the talents we have instead of conforming to the demands of others?   Alcohol or drugs or sex with people we barely know because we want to numb ourselves to the pain of being alone, or the pain of being with the people/in the jobs that are slowly killing our spirits - until the high wears off.

There is a God-shaped void in our hearts, that we try to fill with anything but God.  Been there, done that, have the tee-shirt, the sweatshirt, and the commemorative mug.  It's part of our being human.  We can do it ourselves.  We can make ourselves feel better.  Except that we can't.  It's not an "us"-shaped void.  God has given us the capacity to choose Him, or to not choose Him.  He's not going to force himself on us.  But the next time you're out of sorts, the next time you look in the mirror and realize something's not right - like, hey, my right shoulder 1 1/2" out and 1 1/2" lower than my left - stop being comfortable with your pain.  Stop trying to work through it yourself.  Turn to the Great Physician, and let Him pop back in what's out of whack in your life.