The last twenty-four hours have not been the best. Since Sam did not have school yesterday — his fourth day off in a row — I took him skiing to a cute little place in Mentone, Alabama. Skiing in Sweet Home Alabama. Who knew? We started out a little rough. It was harder than he remembered. Unlike his brothers, Sam has skied very little and not in 3+ years. The place is just one hill and is served only by a tow rope. Exiting the rope was not mastered by Sam in the first ten minutes. Despite my firm instructions he kept pointing his skis down the hill as he tried to get up. I resorted to some tough love. You can’t even begin to fathom how grateful I am that this was not when he got injured.
He was a little slow to warm, but definitely made huge progress. The lift guy and others were high-fiving him and giving him knuckles galore. We took a break and hilariously Sam sipped his Coke a la Elf with the “syrup coffee” in the mailroom. It cracked me up so much that I had to have him do it again so I could record it and send it to his cousin who shares his affinity for Elf culture. Sam has this magic about him where he consistently makes everything about a thousand times more fun than you’d ever expect it to be.
We headed out again and he said, “Let’s ski down holding hands.” He said this not because he needed help. He didn’t. He just thought it’d be fun. And it was.
After we’d spent a good chunk of the day there, my boots started to hurt.
“I think I’m going to be done, Sam. You can go two more times and I’ll watch you.”
“How about five?” Sam asked.
“Okay,” I said, thrilled on the inside that he was enjoying himself. I think it was his third trip up when his leg got twisted and yet he somehow kept holding on to the rope. This caused a very unnatural leg rotation — a gruesome to watch rotation, a trip to the ER, a fractured tibia and the end of basketball season before his first game. Basketball is his favorite. Unless you are our neighbor and hear the constant pounding of the ball on the pavement, you can’t possibly appreciate how much this kid loves basketball.
I don’t know why God allowed this to happen. But here’s what I am praying. First that Sam will draw near to God. The Psalmist wrote: “The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.” (34;18). And James tells us: “Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you.” (4:8). Sam, despite his comedic genius and gargantuan size, is still just ten years old, so I know this is a big prayer. But please join me in asking God to help Sam turn to Him in the difficulty and sadness of the days to come.
Second, I’m praying that our entire family will learn all that God has for us in this season. May all five of us have ears to hear all that we need to. May these next couple months, which will look much different than we would’ve thought, be reminders that we are not in control, that God is always good, that we can trust Him even when we don’t understand our circumstances. May I draw near to God on the mountaintops of life and in the valleys, and that is my prayer for you as well.
With Gratitude for Your Prayers,