Is this healed?

Hi God,
It is a joy to write to you. I have been enjoying your presence and have been so wildly blessed by you that it is my pleasure to write to you and connect on this level: pen pals. How about that? You (God) and I as pen pals. How do you like the sounds of that? You will write me back I'm sure - or maybe not. Or maybe you will but the post office will lose the letter.... or the email will get sucked into the black abyss known as the World Wide Web. So, maybe I shouldn't hold my breath waiting for a correspondence to land in my mail box.
I'll write anyhow.
I always find it easiest to write when I have a problem. I'm not always great at confrontation and face to face trouble shooting. I problem solve best on paper. So, here it goes: I don't understand your definition of healing. You use that word so willy nilly. Don't laugh at the term "willy nilly." It is exactly how you use it. You want me to trust that I am healed. You healed people in the Bible. Healing, healing, healing! What in the world do you even mean by healing? Because if I am healed, like you said I am, then you and I must certainly be working off of very different definitions of the term.
Let me tell you what healing looks like to me, in this body: 100 pounds, a butt and boobs, functioning/daily digestion, a leg muscle that is at rest and a running regimen that includes 3 miles twice a week - no big deal. And where is my body at now? I don't even want to write the weight - not that I need to, you know what it is. There is no butt and no boobs, like the female body was meant to have (I thought). My digestion is at a stand still. My muscle in my leg is unfortunately not - it instead is flared with all the force of a champion arm wrestler. And running? Ha! A third of a mile would have me huffing and puffing.
And this is my healing? You said I was healed. You told me to go forth in my healing; live as if I am healed and whole because I am! But I am not. How could this possibly be considered healed, whole and healthy? I feel everything but today.
For the first time in about a month I went to the doctor this morning because my muscle was so flared I couldn't even begin to get it resting and loosened. No sooner I had stepped out of the car at home, immediately after the appointment, and the muscle was once again flared. So, I went back again a second time that afternoon. And guess what? It is 7 that evening and it is flared again.
What is wrong with my body? Why won't you heal it? How can I ever fulfill your purpose for me if my body is stuck in this state and my muscle won't relax and cooperate? I feel so hopeless. I was living out my healing but that didn't seem to get me anywhere.
I know what you are going to say: "Be patient. Just wait it out. I know it has been a long time but I truly am healing you. It is taking longer then you would like, that I know. But that doesn't mean that I'm not doing my work. Look at the whole month you went without having to go to the doctor. That is a huge milestone. Don't overlook it. That is work I did. Not you, not a doctor, not a supplement. Me. All ME. So don't give up on me just yet. Keep the faith. You have been strong in me. Don't waver now. Don't teeter on the edge of wanting to chuck it all. I know it is tempting. You want to see results. I know you want to stop feeling the pain in that leg. Just hang in there.
...I know you won't want to hear this but I still have to teach you more. I'm sorry to say that because I know you don't want to hear it but it is the truth. You are not complete yet. Yes, you have come a long way and I think your progress is great. But it isn't finished. Think of yourself as a clay pot. You started out as a gray lump. Now you are molded into an admirable figure but there is still more to do. I wanted to have the chance to add color and a glossy finish. Then of course that firing process to get that stunning shine. You haven't let me complete all the phases of the process yet. Do you want to be the fine piece of art that can be created in good time or would you like me to stop mid work? I can stop now. All you have to do is say so and walk away. I'll be hands off. I can't promise that you'll be pleased with the result of my work because I'm not done yet. I can't guarantee how you will hold up for the long term in your current condition. Without the finishing coat and protectant seal I'm not sure what kind of toll the elements of life will take on you - I am afraid it won't be good. But it is your call. I can't make it for you. I won't lie to you and tell you this is going to be a comfortable and easy process. You know how hard it has been getting to where you are at, and the rest of the road isn't a walk in the park. But I can promise you it will all be worth it in the end. So, what do you say? Will you hang in there with me a while longer? Or do you want to go your own way. I will wait for your response. You can send it in the mail or just post it on the World Wide Web. It doesn't matter because either way there is no chance I won't see it. Not even the post office could intercept a message from you to me."

God, if that is what you write to me, if that is your response, then all I can say is: Okay. I'm all in. You have been too honest and too good to me for me to have any other answer. Thank you for telling me that this isn't going to be easy. At least I could never accuse you of sugar coating. You have laid it out in black and white. This is going to be a struggle and it is going to hurt at times. But what is my alternative? Do I want to do this on my own? Absolutely not. I'd take all the tough days in the world with you over going at this on my own.
I'm here to stay. I'm here for the duration - no matter how much your work will have to hurt. I know it is all part of fulfilling your vision. You are an artist. I don't want to stand in the way of creating your art. So, have your way. I am a canvas just waiting for your masterpiece to be completed. I am that pot ready for the fire. But first, paint me in beautiful colors. Can I request yellow and orange? Maybe a sunset. Oh, who am I kidding. You have something so much better than a sunset in mind.

Longing to see you and loving you all the while,
Stephanie