Divine Providence

Tonight as I walked into my house I was crying in a way that I have not cried in years, if ever. Quietly, yes, because my roommate is asleep, but uncontrollably all the same. I am filled by a mixture of dredged up sorrows and abounding joy.

I finally had the courage to bring up years of pain with a friend of mine from the campus ministry that I have been attending at USC, and the thought of it being lifted, the mere prospect, is utterly inconceivable.

In second grade was the first time that I remember my knees hurting me - I thought it was nothing more than growing pains. When I was 12 is the first time that I remember mentally noting that my shoulders hurt longer after swim practice than they should have, some thing deeper and different from that good sore feeling. Since then, things have most definitely gotten no better.

Tonight I spoke with my friend who is a physical therapist - who goes to GOC - and who could potentially mitigate something that I have dealt with for years and years. This is a Polaroid of the church in action. Just like when our water heater went out, this is the church wherein the members offer their expertise to each other for the greater good. What a beautiful model!

Whatever happens, I want to praise The Father for years of struggle and rerouted dreams that have led me here and allowed me to experience the immeasurable significance of this moment. Even as I sit to type this my shoulders are bothering me. My knees are quiet.

I cannot play cello without pain. I cannot walk or ride to work without pain. I cannot swim without it, I cannot play horse with the kids without it. I cannot sit for a long period of time - especially in an airplane - without wanting to scream. Even if this does not work, I will have an answer and know where to look for the next step to ending the daily, hourly pain of this broken and depraved body that is my temple before God.

I feel like a broken record - I have for years, and I feel like tonight someone was kind enough to lift the needle into the next groove so that I may have peace again.