Wednesday, August 5, 2009


I went to the chiropractor today. I've been going for the past two weeks because I have some minor back problems. I think what he's done has really helped so in trusting this doctor I asked him about my knee pain. Even though I already went to a sports doctor who was, as it seems now, really unhelpful. So, point of the story is that my chiropractor did some pushing and pulling on my legs and has informed me that I have some grinding going on in my knee caps. An ailment which I am, as he said, way too young for. So the good news is he can do some work on it. The bad news is it doesn't really matter because I will only be able to run for 5-10 more years. Is it odd that my first thought was "how am I going to lose baby weight when I'm 32 and fat as a house?" Anyhow, I know you can sympathize with this Kate. And looking at your situation I'm thankful that I can even run at all. But it's disappointing nonetheless.

What a reminder that I truly am NOT invincible.


  1. Dear Lola,

    I read this Thursday but didn't comment on it because I felt like I didn't even know what to say. It has kind of been hanging over me ever since. I don't really think it's any coincidence that, during the kids' nap time on Thursday, we were in a different room from the one they normally nap in, so I couldn't get on the internet on my iPod like I normally do, and I just randomly decided to listen to those John Eldredge sermons you'd given me, and the ones I started with were about prayer. They really made me think about the way I've been praying for healing, for myself and for others. And then I got this news about you just a few hours later.

    Pain sucks. So bad. And I think that in most ways, losing something that you love is even worse than the pain. But I'm going to be praying for you like crazy, and I don't think that you should take this diagnosis as the final word. I wouldn't be surprised if you found a doctor who's familiar with this and knows more treatments. I guess what I'm trying to say is, don't resign yourself to this fate just yet. (Not that I think you are doing this, but just in case you're tempted to.)

    I've been reading The Chronicles of Narnia lately, and The Magician's Nephew has kind of changed the way that I see God's view of my pain, especially when you keep asking him for something, and he doesn't seem to be coming through. Basically, the background is that Digory's mother is sick and dying. He's about to go do a task for Aslan but thinks that following Aslan's will means that his mom won't get healed. This is when he finally blurts out what he's feeling before he leaves on Aslan's journey for him. Maybe it might mean something to you, too:

    “But please, please – won’t you – can’t you give me something that will cure Mother?” Up till then he had been looking at the Lion’s great front feet and the huge claws on them; now, in his despair, he looked up at its face. What he saw surprised him as much as anything in his whole life. For the tawny face was bent down near his own and (wonder of wonders) great shining tears stood in the Lion’s eyes. They were such big, bright tears compared with Digory’s own that for a moment he felt as if the Lion must really be sorrier about his Mother than he was himself.
    “My son, my son,” said Aslan. “I know. Grief is great."

    Your pain is hurting God more than it's hurting you, as much as it almost never feels like it. But I promise, I promise, that he's going to use it to show you bits of his character that you wouldn't have understood as well otherwise. That seems to be his specialty.

  2. Wow Kate. Thank you so much. I don't even know what to say. But thank you. I can't wait to talk to you about this in person in a week.