*insert eye-roll emoji here*
Annoying… Unfortunate…. Frustrating
What a time. What a place. Why now?
That was what was going through my mind in March, when I pretty severely injured my foot in India.
I was playing volleyball with the boys we lived with- day two. I’d spent the evening going back and forth between that and racing the boys down the street. All was well and the team was just about to leave for ministry for the night.
I went for the ball, my foot went sideways in an uneven part of the road. Like completely sideways. I tried to keep playing because, adrenaline. It didn’t hurt that bad and I was probably fine. I’m tough… can’t remember the last time I was injured enough to stop whatever activity I was doing. This time, however, within minutes it started to swell and all of the blood drained from my face. I remember Rach and Jenna, the two nurses on the team, looking at it with more concern than I thought was warranted.
They prayed over my foot and then all went to ministry at my request. They told me to compress and stay off of it until they returned. So I did. Treatment for a sprain is elevation, compression, and ice. Unfortunately, in the village in India, ice does not exist. So I wrapped it in multiple buffs because, WR resourcefulness, and sat with my foot up on the wall for my leadership call.
That night I was attacked with a ton of negative thoughts and doubts about the Lord’s goodness.
“You broke your foot and this is how your race ends.”
“You find joy in competition and sports, and the Lord has taken away your ability to use that in a month where it would be so beneficial.”
“He allowed this to happen where you’re least likely to get treatment, you can’t even get ice.”
“You shouldn’t have been playing so long, and did this to yourself.”
“Now you’ll be a detriment to the team, useless, you get to sit around until your foot heals… If it heals.”
I felt defeated and confused. I didn’t understand why God would allow this injury. It was inconvenient and unnecessary and I was just having a pity party.
After our leadership call, I had a choice. The boys were all downstairs hanging out before bedtime. I could spend the evening with them or remain in our sleeping space where they wouldn’t ever come disturb me.
It was at that moment I looked over and saw Will’s deck of UNO cards… It tends to be one of those games that’s pretty easy to teach even with a language barrier.
I had a decision to make, and permission to make either one free of judgement.
I chose to hobble down stairs and teach UNO until the team returned home. And it was SO FUN. Yeah, my foot hurt (actually probably worse than I’d have admitted), but it was awesome to get to spend time with these kids, teach them a new game and enjoy their company.
I remember the team returning home, shocked to see me playing. I don’t think anyone would’ve been surprised (including me) to return to me resting my foot in silence. But the fruit of that decision to use my time, even in pain, to invest in others was totally worth it. We played UNO so much throughout the month and ended up leaving a deck with the boys so they could continue to play.
I admittedly spent some time in the victim circle but by the grace of God I was able to choose freedom and joy in spite of circumstance and that’s what really counts.
This gosh-darn foot has led to many different lessons that will be shared in due time, but all that to say the Lord has used it to bare fruit in my life. Praise!!
Over and out,
Dad, sorry I never even really mentioned the foot…
For updates on this story see:
http://amberpharazyn.theworldrace.org/post/this-freakin-ankle
http://amberpharazyn.theworldrace.org/post/an-end-to-the-ankle-saga
