I wasn’t able to do my Monday run in the morning this week. I was up late because Nathan wasn’t feeling well(turns out we all have/had Hand Foot and Mouth disease). Instead I decided not to get up at 5:45. I still wanted to run though. So, once I got supper ready that night, I went and ran. I was supposed to do 25 minutes of running. After 18 minutes of running, I could feel that familiar pain and tightening of my illiotibial band that goes from my hip down to the out side of my knee. I adjusted my gait to compensate. I stopped running at 20 minutes, walked a little and then finished with running 5 more minutes. My knee was in considerable pain when I finished. It’s the kind of pain where, if I had kept running, it would have hurt more and more with each step- like a rubber band that is being pulled tighter and tighter.
I had it in my mind that the 5k race I was going to do on Labor Day would have to be finished with intervals of walking and running- IF I actually did it. A conversation about my race-day plans led to an emotional conversation. Well meaning words meant to encourage me fell on me like a knife to my gut. I spent a lot of yesterday afternoon processing why I would have such an emotional reaction to a theological difference which may have just been due to semantics.
The suggestion that God would heal my knee put me in an tailspin.
I thought I was frustrated by our different conclusions on our theology of healing, but that was secondary to the main question that prodded at me: “Are you willing to ask God to heal your knee?”
I sat with tears streaming down my face and asked myself if I trusted God. You may or may not agree with me, but I believe it’s possible for God to answer “no” to requests for healing here on earth and that he might deny a request of something else equally worthy. That does not mean that I don’t have faith. And the “no” isn’t always because of something someone did or didn’t do or said or didn’t say. It means that when I go to God in prayer about something, I have to make a choice to trust a God who might not give me the answer I want. There is nothing easy about that. In fact, it makes no sense sometimes. The way God chooses who or what to say, “Yes,” to and His timing for answering at all can appear random.
My mind has been swirling with memories of God saying, “No”, or seeming silent.
I laid in bed last night and cried. I told God what He already knew. I told Him that my knee hurt. I told Him that I believed that He could heal it. I told him that I wanted to believe that He WOULD heal it, but I wasn’t sure He would. I told Nathan I wasn’t even sure what I believed anymore. I told God that I didn’t understand and that I needed help to put myself in the position of risking disappointment.
I know it seems melodramatic and that it’s just knee pain. It’s not a huge deal in the whole scheme of things, but at this point for me that conversation was a big step.
This morning I got up, put my shoes on, took a couple of ibuprofen and went to meet my running partner. My knee felt a little uncomfortable when we started. It gave signs that it would not hold out for as long as I needed it to. 25 minutes later, I found myself completing the run with no knee pain at all. I don’t know what this means for my knee pain for the future, but today, God said, “Yes, ” and I’m thankful. I know He is the only reason I was able to make that run today.