I recently purchased a day at the spa for my little sister’s graduation present. I assumed this would be a great opportunity to relieve some of that stress she’s going to face now that she’s on her own, provide good quality time together, and of course give myself an excuse to pay a visit to the massage therapist.

That morning on my way to meet her, I fell down my two large concrete steps that lead to my driveway. I had my hands full when I took the plunge into the gravel drive. I had a large glass coffee mug filled with limeade, a glass bottled root beer, and a yogurt.

I’m still not quite sure what I fell on, but my best description is a large, white, soft shell… with slime under it similar to that of a slug. My flip-flop slid over it and I tried to brace myself by putting my other flip-flop on the second step…that’s when my left foot slipped on a pile of mud and I landed doggy style on the gravel driveway.

I tried to save myself with my full hands, which broke both glass containers in to my skin.
Somehow amongst the tumble, the root beer squirted out of the bottle and doused my hair. My hair was drenched, my hand was bleeding profusely, gravel was stuck in my kneecap, and the side of my shin was skinned like that of a carpet burn.

It was awful and humiliating, but fortunately no one was around to see. Deep inside I still wanted someone there to baby me. My hand wouldn’t stop bleeding and I thought I might need to pay a visit to the hospital.

I picked up the mess and bandaged myself up, then headed to meet my sis. The massage lady had to work around my fresh wounds, but informed me she may be able to help the healing process. About a half hour into the massage she stopped. I had my face down in the massage chair and couldn’t tell what had happened to her. I wondered if she fell asleep…I coughed a few times and made some quick body jerks to wake her. She then asked, “Can you feel that?” I couldn’t really feel anything except that her hand was near the backside of my cut knee… and that’s what I told her.

She then explained that she is blessed with a gift that not many people have, the gift of healing by touch. I wasn’t sure how I felt about this and honestly wanted her to get back to rubbing my lower back. It was an awkward moment that went into my hour massage time much longer than I would have liked.

After the time at the spa was over, I noticed the swelling was down on my knee and the rest of my body had recovered to an extensive degree.

Did God bless her with healing hands liked she believed or did that Neosporin work in super mode? What do you think? Have you ever had an experience with healing hands? If so what do think is so special about that person’s hand versus your own… or mine?


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