I am learning, sometimes painfully, that the body has its own theology. A wound can preach. A wheelchair can become a classroom. A hospital room can become a chapel. The fear of amputation, the uncertainty of healing, and the daily practical limits of disability have forced me to see life differently. I do not say that lightly. I do not believe suffering is good simply because it exists. But I do believe that God can take what wounds us and turn it into a ministry of recognition.