“NO I GOT IT!” nineteen-year-old Sarah spat at anyone who offered to help carry her food tray. I hated the looming “I’m helpless” sign that came with my bulky, white immobilizer encapsulating my right leg and crutch under my arm after tearing my ACL in powder-puff football. I had to have help going to class, getting in bed, opening doors, driving anywhere, but I could AT LEAST carry my tray.
“Why didn’t you holler for help, young lady?” I heard for the thousandth time that day as I struggled to carry in large car part boxes to a garage. “Because I’m a strong, independent woman. Now sign here,” I always respond. It shouldn’t have been such a surprise when my doctor had to tell me how to stretch out my shoulder when I get pangs from rotator cuff issues.
Today in the delivery vehicle, I cried out asking the Lord what His purpose is for me in the World Race. “Lord, I have always been a leader of some capacity, and now I have nothing. I always take over everything. It bothers me when it’s not my way… oh… right. You want me to learn how to depend on others because if I can depend on others, then I’ll learn how to depend on you better. Alright, Lord, I hear ya.”
I’ve asked God to break me of myself, and here He’s doing it. What is my role for the World Race? Living in dependence with God and my teammates.
