My body was failing me, failing all of us. Pain rippled through my limp arms. I was no longer proof of anything that testified to the glory of God, at least not in the eyes of the people around me. I was nothing like a sign and a wonder. Instead, I was living in my parents’ basement, and I simmered with resentment. Wasn’t I better than this? “I used to be shiny,” I said to a friend with a sour laugh. “I really was pretty shiny at one point.”
