Broken Heart & Broken Wrist-Lead to new Home


I had gone through a very difficult year with the death of our middle son from on overdose. The multiple, unceasing prayers of many people were answered in a way we did not expect when God took Jeff to heaven for his eternal healing.

The following summer after his death I decided to try to get out of the house, as I had become something of a hermit, only going to work and other things I was committed to attend.

Some girlfriends regularly rode bikes on Saturday mornings so I asked to join them. It was a beautiful sunny morning in July and it felt great to be outside, at least until two of the women stopped abruptly in front of my bike. I swerved sharply, but lost my balance and fell and broke my wrist.

Breaking my wrist was almost the last straw between me and God. Though it seems insignificant, the break threw me into an emotional collapse. Was God so mean that just as soon as I tried to resume a normal life after my son’s death that he let me break a bone in the beginning of summer?

In addition, the bone did not heal properly so had to surgically be broken again, extending the recovery. I went to PT faithfully, but was angry at God for adding “insult to injury” in my mind.

One day at PT I saw an old friend who had moved into a condo complex that fit our description of the perfect downsizing option. However, it was practically impossible to get a unit there, as they rarely went on the market and sold very quickly when they did. And we still would have to sell our house first before we could buy it! We had put our house on the market a few years earlier and only two people came to see it in three months, so we were not hopeful we could sell it quickly.

I asked her if any units were available and she said the woman who owned the prime unit was dying at age 100 but her son probably would buy it from his siblings. I was sad to hear that, as that was my favorite unit and I knew it probably would not come back on the market for a long time.

Two days later the son called and said his mother had died and asked “would you like to buy my mom’s unit?” We said yes immediately and then put our house on the market as quickly as possible. He warned us that he would still be showing the unit to other people just in case we couldn’t sell our house.

One week on the market and our house was sold and we were able to buy our dream home.

I finally realized that breaking my wrist was not God being mean to me, but a perfect working of His love. We never would have known that unit was available if I had not been in PT with my friend who I had not seen in years. God arranged something bad to bring about something good.

“All things work for good for those who love God and are called according to His purpose”

Deborah Flanagan – Cohasset MA – March 2017

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