Saturday, I was walking next to my husband on a boardwalk and talking on the phone to my daughter. Unfortunately one of the boards wasn’t screwed down however, so when my husband stepped on it, the other end popped up catching my ankles in-stride.
Laying on the ground dazed and confused, I started sobbing. My knees hurt so bad; worse than when I’d broken my tibial plateau three years ago. Standing, walking, and sitting were excruciating. I was certain I’d broken one of my osteoporosis-ridden bones.
As I lay writhing in pain, I couldn’t help but compare the fall to a struggle I’ve been dealing with the past few years. I was walking along just fine. Then without realizing what had happened or how I got there, I felt emotionally leveled and sidelined.
While studying 2 Timothy last week, the phrase “endure hardship” jumped out at me. Whether it’s physical pain, relational trauma, or chronic anxiety Paul challenges us. I want to avoid hardship, not endure it. I want to go around broken boards and difficult conversations.
Paul instead says to expect and endure hardships.
Although I didn’t break anything when I fell, I’ve endured pain and swelling. I’ve lost sleep trying to get comfortable. I’ve been donning ice packs and a compression sleeve. And as my fat, ugly knee keeps turning different colors, I’ve been thinking about life’s hurts and it’s only Hope.
“We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed.” 2 Corinthians 4:8-9
Although my knee and my heart have been hurting, they aren’t broken. My leg is sore, and my soul burdened, but I feel upheld. As I traverse through Lent hobbling emotionally and physically toward the cross where Jesus endured real suffering on my behalf, I’m reminded that when I’m upended, He understands. When we’re hurt and feel broken, He is compassionate and caring. And because of that truth, we aren’t just called to endure hardship,
We are equipped by His love to do so.