Updated: Jul 7
Beginning in 1987, I suffered from headaches. 24/7. The only thing that changed was they got worse. This trend reversed in 2009 after my first trip to the Casa de Dom Inacio (“the Casa”), a renowned healing center in Brazil. After several visits, they were reduced by 80%. I declared myself healed.
I returned to the Casa in 2019. My friends were talking about recent miraculous Casa healings—crippled people walking and cancer being cured to highlight a few. Later in the quiet of my hotel room, I wondered why my headaches weren’t completely cured. Surely this is a little thing compared to what I just heard. I verbally expressed my frustration to God. Several times and quite loudly. I left the Casa on May 4, 2019, pondering why I settled with an 80% recovery.
On June 18, 2019, I stopped to help a man on the sidewalk. As I turned, I tripped over a suitcase behind me landing hard on my left wrist. The Chicago emergency room doctor confirmed my suspicion. I had broken my wrist. When he added I needed surgery, I heard a strong inner voice say “NO!” Where did that come from? It was too strong to ignore.
I heeded the internal wisdom. I told the surgeon I wanted to avoid surgery. He explained the consequences of this decision. In the best-case scenario, I would have a deformed wrist. Okay. I could live with that. In the worse case and unadvisable scenario—if the bone moved past a certain point, years of pain and a more difficult surgery were in my future. I had a couple of weeks to make my final decision. Perfect. That gave me time to create a miracle.
I put out prayer requests, remained at home to limit arm movement, and put together my Olympian squad of healing partners, those who successfully accelerated bone healing in others. My team included a reflexologist, a Native American healer, and an osteopath. I had done my part. Now the rest was up to my body.
On decision day, the X-rays showed the bone had stopped just short of where I would need surgery. My healing partners and I did it! What a rush of excitement! The surgeon looked happier than I did telling me what he thought my odds were. Three cheers for trusting my gut! You can read other examples of me following my intuition in Chapter 1 of You Heal You.
This was not an ordinary broken wrist. It was a gift that kept giving. The remaining 20% of my headaches have since vanished. Four years later, they are still gone. I immediately knew the break was the answer to my angry prayer rant. I heard God say, “Ok, Jane, I was doing it the easy, less painful way. But this way works, too.”
There is nothing like the euphoria from a self-healing miracle. I’m reminded that God does hear my prayers. Even one in anger. I learned it is the act of asking for help that is important. Not the how. I may have temporarily fallen back into an old pattern of living with pain. That’s OK. I call that “Jane walking her journey.”
All of this came from one broken wrist. How magical. How life changing. How lucky can a girl be? I wink at God in thanks for always having my back.