Back in 2019 when I was in Sec 2, I received a bad health report: my scoliosis, a condition where the spine curves abnormally, had worsened.

While I had been flagged for scoliosis in 2017 during an annual school check-up, the doctors had assumed that I had already stopped growing at Primary 6 at 167cm. As such, no follow-up action was taken.

But clearly, I had not finished growing (I’m 179cm today!). By 2019, the degree on my spine had suddenly increased to 50 degrees, corresponding to my growth spurt in puberty. 

As such a curve could continue to escalate uncontrollably, there was the risk it could restrict the space needed for my heart and lungs to function properly.

That was why my doctors recommended major spinal surgery, which would involve fusing my spine with metal rods. Recovery would take a year, and long-term complications like arthritis, lack of mobility and chronic pain could also arise. 

Having gone through three surgeries before on separate occasions (appendicitis, ACL reconstruction, and Achilles tendon debridement – I’m pretty injury prone!), I still wince at the thought of how invasive this procedure would be. Just imagine having a metal rod permanently in your back! 

So, desperate to avoid surgery, my parents and I sought all alternatives, and eventually decided on full-time bracing to manage my condition instead.

This meant wearing a hard plastic brace for more than 20 hours a day, only removing it when I was showering or exercising. For 5 years, all throughout secondary school and JC, it effectively became my second skin. 

The brace was uncomfortable, restrictive and sometimes embarrassing. I had gotten accustomed to wearing baggy shirts to hide it, endured long morning assemblies under the sweltering heat, and had become an expert at re-wearing and removing it between PE lessons.

Over time, wearing the brace full-time did help my degree decrease slightly to around 40 degrees, though it was uncertain whether my condition had fully stabilised. 

My faith crisis

Through it all, it’s honestly been hard to keep having faith that God will heal me.

My walk with God has seen its ups and downs. There have been times where I’ve felt full of faith, convinced that God would heal me immediately. There were also days where I’ve fallen deep into doubt, resigned to living with this condition forever. 

However, something happened over the summer that helped me thoroughly reshape how I saw my condition.

It was my first review in 1.5 years since I stopped full-time bracing. In the months leading up to the check-up, I felt so strongly that God had placed it on my heart that this was the time I would finally receive the completion of my healing and that my spine would be completely straight.

I was expectant, listening to healing testimonies, thanking God in advance for a straight spine, and even preparing to write my testimony about how He has healed me so I could glorify Him with it. 

But when I saw the doctor pull out the X-ray, my heart plummeted as the familiar S-shaped curve stared back at me. Not again, Lord.

In fact, the curve had even worsened slightly, from 43 degrees to 48 degrees. Despite wearing the brace faithfully all these years, putting in all that effort, and all the prayers, nothing had really materially changed. We were back to the drawing board. 

I couldn’t understand. Wasn’t God’s heart to heal me? After all, didn’t Jesus die so I could be whole (Isaiah 53:5)? Since God loves me and wants good things for me, why not this? 

From disappointment to surrender

That moment in the doctor’s office would eventually bring me into a place where I would come to learn what surrender means.

While the desire for my healing was well-intentioned, I realised I may have unwittingly put God in a box, assuming that the only way He could be glorified was through a miraculous healing. But only God Himself knows exactly how best He may be glorified.

Though I still don’t understand why He chose to work in such a way, I’ve made peace with my situation by accepting that there are certain things that I’ll have to leave in a “God, I’ll ask you later” box when I reach heaven.

For now, I’ll simply trust God to do the work He does best – be God and in control. 

I’ve made peace with my situation by accepting that there are certain things that I’ll have to leave in a “God, I’ll ask you later” box when I reach heaven.

One thought that the Holy Spirit impressed on me shortly after the review was perhaps the greater testimony was not in a straight spine, but in how I give thanks and trust in God regardless (1 Thessalonians 5:18).

In 2 Corinthians 3:2-3, Paul writes that our lives are “epistles of Christ…written not with ink, but by the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone, but on tablets of flesh, that is, of the heart.”

How incredible is it that God could just use me and the life I lead by His grace, as enough to touch lives and bring glory to Him. 

All along, God had been preparing me

Looking back at this episode of my life, I see His fingerprints everywhere. Just weeks before this test of faith, I received a vision at my church camp which was based on John 15:2.

Every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful.

At the time, I didn’t know how much I would later cling on to this encouragement. But now, I realise it’s really a testament to how God was preparing my heart for the pruning that was about to come. 

Knowing how faithfully He has prepared and provided for me in every season helps me see that I don’t need another sign to trust Him.

Though I still believe in faith that He has already healed me, I ultimately rest in the greatest truth – the cross is enough. Indeed, the love that Jesus displayed on the cross made a way for the forgiveness of all my sins, and my restoration as a daughter in Christ.

What a glorious portion and identity I have in Jesus! 

Hence, while I wouldn’t wish this scoliosis on anyone, I also wouldn’t erase this chapter of my story.

God has used it to mould me – to make me more empathetic, resilient, and most of all, dependent on Him.

So, thank you, Jesus, that this curve in my story isn’t wasted. Instead, You even weave it into Your greater story of redemption, with the promise that one day You will make all things new (Revelation 21:5).

Lord, take it all! My story, Your glory!