Eleven weeks ago I had surgery on my right thumb. Well, actually, the surgeon made two incisions—one in my forearm and one where my thumb connects to my wrist. I never realized that arthritis could get so bad that they would actually take a bone out. This one is called the trapezium. "There was severe degenerative arthrosis and sequelae of severe degenerative joint disease as surrounds the trapezium," the report says, and who am I to disagree. It certainly hurt more and more, and I was unable to use that hand more and more. I couldn't peel anything; I couldn't button anything; I couldn't open anything, even the non-childproof caps; I couldn't write more than a word or two before the pain became too much to bear; more and more often I dropped what I picked up because it hurt too much to hang on to it. The rheumatologist had tried everything else and this was the last resort. A bone was removed and a tendon harvested from the forearm to put in the empty spot where a hole had also been drilled to thread it through and fasten it in.
So after time in a bandage and splint and more time in a cast, I am back to a splint/brace and doing physical therapy. I am a pianist and writer who types constantly. Surely this will be a cinch for my strong hands, I thought. Oh, if only. All you need to do is look at my two hands side by side with the brace removed to see what has happened in these past weeks. My right hand now looks like a skeleton's hand with loose skin draped over it. The musculature is simply gone. Touch your thumb to the tip of each finger on the same hand. Easy, huh? My affected thumb couldn't even begin to do that, especially not to the little finger, which shook like someone with the palsy. This also took a toll on the surrounding body parts. My entire hand and arm were swollen twice their size and I could no longer bend my wrist in any direction at all. After four weeks in therapy and diligently going through the ten exercises sent home with me twice a day, I am beginning to make some progress—but no one has actually promised that I will get it all back. Disuse, even if it was necessary while I heal, has done a real number on me, and if I refuse therapy because it hurts, I will never get it back.
For every one that partakes of milk is without experience of the word of righteousness; for he is a babe. But solid food is for fullgrown men, [even] those who by reason of use have their senses exercised to discern good and evil Heb 5:14.
Too many of us think that sitting on the pew four hours a week is the same thing as "exercising our senses." We don't want to do anything we consider "extra." Well, guess what? If you are to grow and become stronger and more knowledgeable, you have to work at it every day, not just at your therapy appointment on Sundays. You can't get away with ignoring God's Word because "who needs to know anything about these obsolete old books anyway?" as one brother said, complaining about a study of the minor prophets. Just look at what the Hebrew writer tells us we will no longer be able to do if we don't exercise: we will no longer be able to tell good from evil. If you cannot see that influence in our society now, your soul is at risk, something far more important than your physical health, because eventually, that same disability will infest the church. In fact, I have heard some of it already. Even if you had a great amount of knowledge and ability in the past, disuse will steal it from you just as I have lost my hand and finger dexterity. If you don't use it, you lose it, a maxim that applies in all things.
Work hard, today and every day. You don't want to wind up in a spiritual cast for eternity.
And this I pray, that your love may abound yet more and more in knowledge and all discernment; so that you may approve the things that are excellent; that you may be sincere and void of offence unto the day of Christ Phil1:10.
Dene Ward