If you have ever sustained an athletic injury, then you know the experience can be humbling. All at once, you can no longer do what you have always done. It completely feels like you can't focus on achieving the next level you, when the current you is... well, frankly... in pain. I made it through all the training miles and finished the Dopey Challenge back in January without an injury. My last blog talked about how that challenge had become a metaphor for other challenges I had in life. Then in February, that all changed. I somehow sustained an injury to the meniscus in my left knee. I tried to ignore it and keep going which didn't help things. In fact, it got worse. By the time I got to my March races, the pain was bad enough that I walked the second half the 10- miler. It was humbling and forced me to accept this injury wasn't just going to go away. I was not only going to have to spend time to heal, but also would need to find a way to move forward knowing that this might be something I have to learn to live with. Fortunately, my doctor told me I didn't have to stop running. In fact, I needed to keep moving. As has been true with much of my running journey through life, this new development also became a metaphor for the circumstances I was walking through in my spiritual life.
My physical injury forced me to slow down my pace dramatically. In doing that, I had to become very intentional with each activity I engaged in. In addition to the nagging pain in my knee, this forced intentionality was in some ways very annoying. Why? Because it took away from the freedom of running for me. In my flesh, I don't want to 'think' about running...I just want to enjoy the way it makes me feel on every level both physically and emotionally. Ironically, isn't that true for most things in our flesh? I then asked myself, how did I make it this far in life without experiencing this injury before now? Now I have a constant somewhat painful reminder as I run to think about. Again, another metaphor.
In my flesh, I began praying and asking God to please take my wound away. In fact, I cried out, even pleaded, knowing He knew the pain it caused me. And no sooner than the words left my thoughts, I was reminded of someone in the Bible who prayed the same prayer. And simultaneously my memory reminded me also about God's response.
" Therefore, in order to keep me from becoming conceited, I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong."
There is a lot of speculation what the thorn in the flesh was for the Apostle Paul. The content of the thorn is less important than the intent of the thorn. Scripture states it was there to keep him humble, and to remind him every time he experienced the pain in his flesh of the grace of his salvation in Jesus Christ. Both qualities are essential for effective ministry. You can't bring others to Christ if you don't understand that all your ability to do so comes from God, and that you are as much in need of grace as everyone else.
As one commentary put it, " Paul saw two ways forward. The Lord could (1) remove the thorn, and Paul could get on with life and ministry, or (2) leave the thorn, and Paul would be forever crippled and slowed in life and ministry. The Lord responded with yet a third option: leave the thorn but give Paul grace. And for Paul’s life and ministry, this would net out as taking Paul places in terms of divine power he could never have attained otherwise. This is God’s secret strategy for his people." My injuries have become a tangible and palpable sign to show me this is his strategy for my life and faith walk as well.
Paul describes the thorn as a messenger from Satan. The bible tells us our enemy has only three intentions regarding your ministry: to steal, kill and destroy. In other words, he would love to see a wound that "literally stops you in your tracks." The hard realization in the growth of your faith and mine is that God may permit a wound so that you can grow your ministry and, yet in the process, remain humble. If you focus on the wound instead of the grace that accompanies it, the enemy wins. This shift in perspective makes me think about Joseph. God gave him vision for his life. But yet, he was sold by his brothers into slavery. He literally was thrown into a pit and left to die. Then he was accused of things he didn't do; his integrity was attacked. He easily could have become very bitter over time and even lost faith. But instead, he focused on the all the many ways that God prospered him despite his affliction. He focused on grace. So much so that he named one of his sons "Ephraim" which means "God has made me fruitful in the land of my suffering." (Genesis 41:52) Later when he again saw his brothers, he was able to say, "You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is being done now, the saving of many lives." Talk about ministry expansion that all began with a wound!
Many of my running instructors encourage us to focus on what we can do instead of what we cannot. They often say, "There may come a day when you cannot run. Today is not that day." It is a mindset that chooses to move forward in faith, knowing that any limitations only make us more intentional. Intention over and over again (discipline) produces strength both in physical training and in life. Regaining strength despite an injury provides hope that I can still run the race. It serves to remind every day where our strength, and even breath, ultimately comes from. Frankly put, wounds remind us of our human fragility. That should keep us humble. And God gives grace to the humble. (James 4:6). The bible puts it this way:
"but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us." (Romans 5:3-5)
I am still praying my wounds will heal at least to the point where they no longer cause pain. But truthfully, I know this is all part of a process. When someday you can look in the rearview mirror and thank God for what the wound has taught you, then you know it is already healed. The irony is sanctification is a lifelong process in healing. So in the meantime, I will keep running in faith...just a little slower and with lot more grace for myself and those around me.
