A quarterback prays
It was my first day at quarterback for tackle football. At practice, I was excited and ready to run the play that the coach had called. It was a “quarterback keep,” and I had to run to the far right of the field carrying the ball. The run started off well, and I dodged a tackle by spinning my body out of the grasp of a defenseman. The next thing I knew, the coaches and I all heard a very loud pop. I fell to the ground, clutching my knee. I couldn’t walk, and I definitely couldn’t play any more football that day.
I wasn’t scared, but I had to be carried off the field because it hurt to walk. When I got home, my mom and I talked about some ideas from the Bible and from Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures by Mary Baker Eddy. I knew this would help me, because our family has had lots of experience praying with ideas from these two books, and I’ve seen how prayer in Christian Science results in faster, more reliable healing.
One of the issues that came up as we talked was that I felt I was weak, and that this was why I’d gotten hurt. But as soon as that came out, I knew it was a lie. The truth is that I am strong, and I knew I believed that. I have strength because I am the reflection of God, and God is all-powerful—never weak.
I’ve seen how prayer in Christian Science results in faster, more reliable healing.
It is also really common to get hurt in football, so my mom prayed about that so we could see what is actually true and spiritually real: I am God’s, Life’s, expression. And as my mom always says, “Life’s expression is harmonious, purposeful, rightly directed action.” I could see that since this is true, I couldn’t be governed by supposed laws of danger.
The next couple of weeks, I was doing online school, and every day my knee felt better. I wasn’t afraid to move around, and I wasn’t in pain. I just did what I could physically, holding the expectation of healing all the time. One thing I did outside of school was attend a football game that my team was playing in, even though I couldn’t play. It felt good to see my teammates again, and I was glad I could move more freely. But I wanted to be able to play, too, so my mom and I continued praying.
One idea I kept coming back to was that God made everybody free. To me, “free” meant that I had the right to use my body and have every part of it function normally. I knew that I was God’s child, so nothing could stop me from expressing God’s qualities, like flexibility and strength.
I went to every football practice to support my team and show integrity as a team member. One evening, I saw my former coach, who noticed my swollen knee and told me how long he felt it would take for my knee to be fully healed. At that moment I just said a mental “No!” to what he had said. I knew that the only truth about me comes from God, so I could firmly reject that prediction because it suggested a lack of freedom, which was the opposite of the messages I’d been getting from God.
I could run, sprint, jump, chop my feet, and fully straighten my knee.
A few nights later, I was lying in bed, and when I twisted around to a more comfortable position, I heard a pop like the one we’d heard when I’d gotten hurt. Something in my knee had snapped back into place, and the following day I was fully back in action. I was able to go to practice and participate in every drill with no discomfort. I could run, sprint, jump, chop my feet, and fully straighten my knee. I was so happy! I participated in every practice that week and played in the next football game, where I had to block a kid who seemed more than twice my size. I played hard and with strength and didn’t feel any pain.
Praying about my knee helped me understand more deeply what it really means to be free. And one other thing happened that I didn’t expect. I realized that not being able to move and walk is not fun at all. Before this, when I’d gone on hikes, I’d never wanted to walk. But after this experience, I am never going to complain about walking ever again!
I’m grateful to God for this healing and for all I learned.