I am limping through another flare up of pain. I am embarrassed as a spasm causes me to seize and grimace. I try to not make eye contact with those coming my way because I am walking crooked with one hip higher than the other. Perhaps if I pretend to not notice, no one else will.
While I may have resigned, more than surrendered, to the realization that pain is part of my life story, I am always grateful for how God is closer to me when I walk with a limp than when I run to catch up with my schedule.
Is it because God moves slower than I want? Maybe it is just that I am trying to outrun him? It doesn't really matter. What does matter is that despite the mental and physical exhaustion of trying to attend to my life despite the pain, I am rested and revived spiritually.
I hear birds chattering joyfully and think of Elijah and his raven. I look around and see flowers blooming brightly and think how much more my father cares for me. In the fiery pain, I consider that the Lord himself entered into the furnace with Daniel's friends. When the walk seems too long, I hear Jesus calm the waves with a "Peace. Be still," and my anxiety obeys.
The sad reality is that I am more spiritually fit the more broken my body is. I pray that there comes a day when I can rely on God when I am more able bodied. For now, it is time to hobble to work with God by my side.