On a brisk fall weekend several years ago, I joined a friend for a mountain bike ride. The first section of trail was slippery with a layer of newly fallen leaves blanketing the ground and hiding roots and rocks. As I was slowly descending a hill, my front wheel struck one of those hidden obstacles and I fell. The impact on my knee was very painful, but I also felt silly for falling over while inching forward. Though I should have turned to prayer right away, I just shook it off and enjoyed the rest of our ride through the fall woods as the pain faded.

Twenty-four hours later, though, the pain had returned, and it had become difficult to walk. I began to pray earnestly. I was able to get to my office on Monday but did not feel much physical improvement. After a day at work, I left the office and began walking to the train station.

As I was crossing the street, a driver making a U-turn struck me, then sped away. I find it natural to turn to God for inspiration, guidance, and healing in times of need, so that is what I wanted to do now. But though I was grateful to be able to make it to the train station, anger toward the driver was keeping me from prayer.