Where's the Real Action

If I leave that rattle in Ben’s hand, the noise will wake him up. I took my eyes off the road and reached across the infant car seat to wrestle the rattle from my son’s fist.

My eyes snapped back to the road as the wheels of our subcompact car struck the curb. Bam! Metal struck metal. The car leveled a light pole.

Four-month-old Ben howled, his cry piercing the hot July morning. His head swelled like a watermelon. But I couldn’t move to help him. My right foot was trapped in the floorboards of the car. Paramedics showed up on the scene and soon rushed us by ambulance to the hospital, where Ben and I were swept into the emergency room.

Specialists at San Jose Medical Center and then Stanford University Hospital performed hours of neurosurgery to repair Ben’s fractured skull and brain injury. With the intercession of thousands on prayer chains across the country over seven weeks, God worked a miracle. We cheered the day Ben came home.

An active 29-year-old, I’d enjoyed ten-kilometer fun runs with my husband Tim. We played Frisbee and enjoyed flying kites on the coast. We rented tandem bikes for weekend excursions and played pick-up games of basketball with friends. But now I suffered a compression fracture in my lower back, dislocated ribs, and a fractured and dislocated foot. I could barely sit up to sip water through a straw.             

At the top of my game for so many years, I was now forced into the role of a spectator.

Why am I on the bench? I asked God, envying those around me. I wished my foot was stronger so I could stomp it. I want to be where the real action is!

But I was about to find out that God’s definition of “action” was altogether different.

Following a long surgery to repair a fractured and dislocated heel, I gradually awoke in the post-op room to see a man on a gurney beside me.

Why is he here? I wondered. What kind of surgery did he have?

I heard God whisper, “Pray for him.” Something quietly stirred in my heart that afternoon—a confidence that the Lord’s healing power was released in a simple prayer of faith.

After two months, I graduated from a wheelchair to a medical walker. I took short steps with painstaking effort. Now I moved slowly, but despite this, God rewarded me with new-found elderly friends who hobbled along beside me. They demonstrated faith and godly wisdom gained over many seasons. Their crinkled smiles and soft senses of humor endeared them to me.

In doctors’ and physical therapists’ waiting rooms, no longer on a mad dash through life, I listened as shy folks shared their stories of financial ruin, shattered dreams, broken families, and illnesses that bore excruciating pain. The Holy Spirit showed how to enter into their pain and release a quiet hope as we gently prayed.

Little by little the Lord healed my leg and back injuries. But ten years later, debilitating cycles of fibromyalgia took me off my feet. Muscle and joint pain, insomnia, headaches, and brain fog often challenged my ability to work and hang out with friends. I was determined to do my part. I refused thoughts that I was a victim.

Instead, I asked God to show me how to contend for those around me. Maybe I’m off my feet again, but I can help others. Lord, show me who to pray for! The Holy Spirit led me to specific Scriptures to pray over friends’ situations. I learned the truth of Proverbs 11:25. “He who refreshes others will himself be refreshed.” I was amazed—every time I prayed for others, I felt a surge of strength and healing, too.

Our heavenly Father knows how circumstances overwhelm us. He listens as we spend time with Him. Practicing His presence brings restorative healing. How? The more time we spend in prayer, the more He fills our senses and we come to know Him more deeply.

As friends and I prayed together, God peeled the fibromyalgia off a layer at a time. Thirteen years after its onset, I was amazed and delighted to celebrate complete healing.

Hebrews 10:35, 36 says, “So do not throw away your confidence; it will be richly rewarded. You need to persevere so that when you have done the will of God, you will receive what he has promised.” Persevering in prayer, we find our confidence in the person of Jesus Christ, the Fulfiller of His promises for us.

After twenty-five years, you still won’t find me running in ten-kilometer races or playing volleyball at picnics. It’s been many years since I rode a bike. But I’ve learned a secret. The Lord desires a heart that holds still long enough to experience Him fully, attentive ears bent toward His compassionate voice, and a soul that comes expectantly into His presence. Soaking in His transforming power and releasing it into the lives of others. That’s where the real action is.