You know when you write or say something you think you believe, but then you find yourself in situation after situation where that belief is put to the test?? Ever since the last post when I wrote about being “temporarily sidelined“, God has allowed little nuisances and random injuries to arise in my life. There have been moments of reprieve but each time I find myself in a place fit to jump something seems to come up. Part of me thinks, “Am I not bold and willing enough to push through? Or do I have a really low pain tolerance and I just need to suck it up??” While the other part of me thinks, “You’re ready for this. You are not afraid. Your body is just not cooperating.”


Last weekend the weather was perfect, my body felt great, and my mind was ready to SOAR at the Olympic Training Center in southern California. So, when a sharp pain arose in my foot after my first jump of warm ups, I thought surely it was just something I was going to vault through. Walking off to the side, I asked a teammate of mine to make an adjustment on my foot (don’t worry, she knew what she was doing) and then picked up my pole and headed back to the runway. The pain did not subside and I was having trouble pushing off the ground with each step. Hmmm.

There’s a limited amount of time allotted to warming up so I quickly decided to run over to the trainer and have him tape it up for some added support; that’ll do the trick. Tape on. Spikes re-laced. I headed back out. Again, I stepped onto the runway without an ounce of relief… Well, I guess this is a day where my resilience will be put to the test. I took off my competition spikes and put on my running flats. I was going to jump. Even if it had to be modified. This was my time to SOAR. Shoes on, I did an acceleration run and found the pain worse than ever. Looking over my shoulder I saw my coach motion for me to pull the plug.

I walked over to my pole bag and sat down; a few tears finding their way down my cheeks. Warm ups ended a few minutes later and the competition got underway. There I was sitting off to the side. It was kind of a surreal feeling. Where did this come from? And why today, right now, during competition? Why not a few hours before? Why let me complete part of my warm up before allowing the pain to arise? I wasn’t angry. I wasn’t anxious. I was just a little confused. And sad.

Turns out the pain would remain and I would be unable to compete in the competition to come two days later. So I returned home with having taken only a single jump the entire weekend. It still doesn’t make complete sense to me and I am still very much trying to figure out what is happening inside the foot, but I can tell you with full confidence I have a peace about the whole situation. And that peace has been present from the first moment of disappointment. There was no hesitation in my attempt to jump. Fear did not arise and wipe me out before my coach told me to stop. Anxiety did not flood in when I thought about what I wanted to accomplish and the timeline that seems to be ever shortening. Instead, there is this sense of deeply rooted trust in God and His timing. And that is completely supernatural. I know because I’ve spent three years succumbing to the natural. Last month I finished talking about injury with these words,

“I [don’t] believe injury is the only way God is glorified in our lives or that we aren’t supposed to acknowledge the difficulty of the situation, but I say all this so that when injury comes hope can remain.

What was written as true then has rooted itself deeply true through experiencing the past two months: hope remains! I may not understand His timing or His ways, but I trust His purpose: His glory. My good. So whether I’m jumping or fighting injury, through His strength I will continue to SOAR!