Before Thanksgiving, I was leaving play practice and feeling a bit spry–an emotion that hasn’t crossed my path in quite some time. I made it down the numerous steep steps at the Community Center with relatively little pain and was crossing the lawn down the hill (to avoid more stairs) when I tripped and landed directly on my hurt left knee. Of course, this grand performance was not without an audience and within seconds my pride was hurting worse than my relatively pain-free knee. One of the adults from the show rushed to my aid and offered a shoulder to lean on to help me to my car — but, when your pride is hurting so much, it refuses any offered help. She did walk with me to my car and got an earful of my crying and nonsensical blurtings. I was so disappointed in having made such progress physically that I was mad and embarrassed that I’d possibly injured my knee even more. No more spry for me, it was going to be a Holly Hobble Christmas. She kindly broke into my blatherings and asked, “Can I pray for you?” It wasn’t what I had expected, but I’m not one to turn down healing prayer, even in a parking lot; she put her hand on my hurt knee and went for it.
   That night was the first night in months that I didn’t have any pain while laying in bed–it was a restful, painless night. Every day I began noticing improvements.
   For weeks I’ve been pulling chunks of leaves out of my purse and smile because it reminds me of God’s goodness and how he works in unexpected ways–even in a parking lot on the corner of Broadway and Union. Earlier this week I was able to go up and down stairs without any pain and yesterday was the first day since June that my knee didn’t hurt ALL day.