On our first official weekend away from the rest of the world, I noticed my husband favoring his left knee. It was early fall, the leaves were just beginning to turn, the sun was shining and it was warm. He’s a basketball fanatic, and so early in our relationship, I was more than willing to play along. So was our dog.
We had discovered a quiet outdoor basketball court near a lake and we were just shooting some hoops. Each time he would run toward the basket, I saw him give a little to the left, before he went up for the shot. He told me it wasn’t a big deal, just an old basketball injury and that he was fine.
Over the next 17 years, it became progressively worse. The first surgeon we saw said a knee replacement would only last him ten years. We walked out. The second surgeon said he should start thinking about living the life of a much older man. We walked out. The third surgeon, a young, healthy, active, energetic, top-of-his-field kind of guy, said he saw no reason my husband wouldn’t be able to play basketball again with our teenage son. He da man!
So we went forward to schedule the surgery. A problem with insurance put it on hold. A new policy with a larger deductible made us hesitant. Time off work was a fear factor. And another two years went by. The favoring of his left knee became a noticeable limp, and then an obvious limp and finally strangers were walking up to ask about it. We ganged up on him…his family, and friends…then his co-workers, and finally his boss. If he wasn’t already convinced, the pain became so intense, money and time no longer mattered.
But my husband’s knee surgery is not what this is about, not really.
As I write this post, it is March 2012. In September 2011 my husband attended a men’s retreat organized by our church. It’s not the sort of thing that is in his comfort zone, but he felt like he should be there. During the weekend, the men were asked to write letters about what God had impressed upon their hearts. They were told the letter would be mailed to them later as a reminder and a means of encouragement. (I can sort of see my husband rolling his eyes at the very idea, but he complied.)
The knee was replaced on Monday morning March 5th and he was walking Monday afternoon. We came home from the hospital two days later and stopped at the mailbox.
The letter had arrived.
As I opened the letter and prepared to read it, I asked him what he had written.
He didn’t remember.
But God did.
“It’s time to stay on my knees more than I complain about them. I feel physically spent…painful to walk…and I must dig deeper into my faith as well as my resolve for recovery…leaving fear of knee surgery and it’s cost behind me.
Call it coincidence, good timing or just a chance occurrence. But what are the odds of that letter being delivered on the very day he returned home from doing what he was so afraid to do for 17 years?
Prayers answered. Fears gone. Bills paid. And in the mailbox, a reminder, a means of encouragement, a simple little message.
Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
He says, “Be still, and know that I am God;
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth.”
Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.
God knows your needs.
He hears your prayers.
Lay it down.
Let it go.
(I know, easy to say, hard to do. But try it. It’s not your only option. But it’s your best!)
© Copyright 2012, KeziahCarrie. All Rights Reserved