When you tell your own story and it feels like you're telling someone else's story, then you know you're healed from its pain.
My head, neck and upper back feel amazingly well after yesterday's fall at Line Dancing. Yep, a dangerous sport to be sure. We'd just finished a dance that I enjoyed so much, I did my own celebratory twirl afterwards. When I stopped my carefree spin, I was DIZZY. I decided if I spun the opposite direction, I'd unwind and regain my equilibrium. Not so.
I toppled over like a child's slowed top and banged my head on the parkay floor. OUCH!
I learned that it's not a good idea for a woman in the 60's age group to spin herself around like a top. I learned that you don't "unwind" by going the other direction. I learned that it hurts to bang the back of my head on the floor, and I learned I have a hard head and am thankful for it.
A fellow dancer immediately put together an ice pack for the knot forming on my head, sat me in a chair, and from that safe distance, I watched the second hour of dance class holding an ice pack to the back of my head.
Regrets? Sure, I have them--every one of us does, but today I can tell the story without pain or embarrassment (not even a headache) as if it happened to someone else. That's how I know I'm better.
Every person has a life story. Some are worse than others, but it is possible to move on, and even come to the place of being thankful for every wound. Without them, how would we know about healing? About the Healer?
I've decided to have another good day. How about you?