What a Broken Arm Taught Me About the Nearness of God
A few weeks ago, Elliot broke her arm. I knew almost immediately that something wasn’t right. After she fell, she looked at me and said, “It feels like my arm is broken!” We haven’t had broken bones in our family (until now!) and so the fact that she said it told me she wasn’t being dramatic, but that this was the real deal!
Children have a real ability to pay attention to their bodies. They often notice things long before adults do. I wasn’t certain that her arm was broken, but I knew enough to take her seriously. We headed to the children’s emergency room, settled into a waiting room chair, and began what would become a very long evening.
If you’ve spent time in an emergency room, you know how much waiting is involved. You answer questions, fill out paperwork, wait to be called back, wait for tests, wait for results, and wait for someone to tell you what happens next. Hours passed before we finally made it back for x-rays. After the x-rays were completed, we found ourselves waiting again. During that time, the technician quietly did something I appreciated more than she probably realized. She could not tell me what the images showed, but she gently encouraged me not to plan on leaving anytime soon. She explained that while she was not the person responsible for reading the x-rays, she had seen enough of them over the years to suspect that a cast would likely be in our future.
Her words gave me just enough information to prepare. I called my husband and let him know we would be there much longer than expected. I was grateful for her kindness. In a place where so much felt uncertain, that small act of care brought a measure of calm. More than seven hours after arriving, Elliot finally received a soft cast and we headed home.
Through the entire experience, she handled it with remarkable courage. She endured the discomfort. She endured the waiting. She endured the uncertainty. I watched her navigate something difficult, and like every parent who has sat beside a hurting child, I wished I could take the pain away.
As I sat with her that evening, I found myself thinking about how much I wanted to fix what was wrong. If there had been a way to remove her pain, I would have done it immediately. If I could have traded places with her, I would have done that too. Watching your child suffer, even in a relatively small way, awakens something deep within you.
Yet there was very little I could actually do.
I could not heal her arm, speed up the process, make the pain go away, or even tell her when she could have a snack! All I could do was stay by her side and remind her that we’d be together through the whole process — with every doctor, in every room, even in follow up appointments. I’d be with her.
In the days since, I have found myself returning to that experience because it has helped me think differently about suffering and about the character of God. There are moments in life when we quietly assume that God’s love for us should look like immediate rescue. We pray for healing and hope it comes quickly. We ask for relief and long for our circumstances to change. When they do not, we can begin to wonder what God is doing.
We may never say it aloud, but sometimes we are tempted to conclude that if God truly loved us, He would remove the difficulty. Sitting beside Elliot reminded me that love does not always operate that way. My inability to remove her pain was not evidence that I cared less for her. If anything, it was evidence of how deeply I cared. I hated seeing her hurt. I wished I could change the situation. Yet the most loving thing I could offer her in that moment was my presence.
As I reflected on that reality, I was reminded that Scripture repeatedly describes God as near to His people. He is near to the brokenhearted. He is near to those who call upon Him. He is near to the weary and burdened. The promise of God’s presence runs throughout the Bible because His people have always faced hardship. God’s nearness matters precisely because suffering is real. When we walk through difficult circumstances, we are often asking God to explain Himself. We want to know why this happened. We want to know when it will end. We want to know how everything will work together for good.
Sometimes those answers come slowly. What God gives us immediately is Himself.
That truth takes on even greater significance when we consider the gospel. Christianity is the story of a God who entered human suffering. Jesus did not remain distant from a broken world. He took on flesh and lived among us. He experienced grief. He experienced rejection. He experienced pain. He carried our sin to the cross and endured suffering on our behalf.
When we are tempted to question whether God cares, we need only look to Christ. The cross settles the question forever. God has already demonstrated His love for us in the clearest possible way. He has already drawn near. He has already entered our suffering. He has already made a way for us to be reconciled to Him and enjoy His presence forever. That does not remove every hardship we face today. It does mean that we never face those hardships alone.
As difficult as the experience was, there was one aspect of the situation that never caused me stress. While many thoughts were running through my mind that evening, I never found myself worrying about how we would pay the medical bills. For someone who naturally tends toward financial anxiety, that was a gift.
My husband and I have been members of Samaritan Ministries for years. We joined as a young family in ministry, and over the years we have walked through pregnancies, deliveries, routine medical care, and unexpected needs as members. Because of those experiences, I had confidence in what would happen next.
That confidence allowed me to focus my attention where it belonged. I could care for my daughter instead of worrying about future bills.
One of the things I have appreciated about health sharing is how personal it feels. When a medical need is shared, there are real people on the other side of that process. Over the years, we have received notes from fellow believers who were praying for us alongside the financial support they provided. Those reminders have been deeply encouraging.
More recently, Samaritan Ministries has expanded its offerings through REDEEM (all the links to check it out are at the end of this post). As a church planting family and a self-employed household, we have appreciated having options that help us think carefully about how we steward our resources while still caring well for our family.
What I have found is that the process is much more straightforward than many people assume. You go to a provider of your choice, receive an itemized invoice for your medical needs, and submit approved needs through your membership portal. There is a clear process for how those bills are shared. When we have had to use it, we have found it to be simple and reliable.
Elliot’s broken arm is healing well. The cast will come off, life will return to normal, and before long this will become one more family story that we tell around the dinner table. The lesson I hope to remember will last much longer. 🙂
When suffering enters our lives, our first instinct is often to ask God to take it away. Sometimes He does. Sometimes He doesn’t. Yet throughout every season, He remains what He has always been: a Father who stays near to His children. I saw a small picture of that truth while sitting beside Elliot in the emergency room. The Lord has given me a far greater picture of it in Christ. And that is a comfort that remains long after the cast comes off.
