When I was born there was something terribly wrong with my legs. Both of my feet went directly to the right. Braces were the best therapy for that little boy in 1966. My baby pictures are full of me rolling around on the floor with a metal plate between my feet. That little boy looked quite happy.
For the past 46 years, I have fallen at least once a week. Sometimes serious; sometimes not. My "straightened" feet still go to the right and every now and then my left foot gets turned a little too much and timberrrrrr. My favorite occasions were (1) in a football game my freshman year when I was running a pass pattern and just fell in front of a few hundred of my closest friends and (2) when I was taking our new youth minister for a tour of our building and fell down a flight of stairs. Those were wonderful times.
I was 6' 2" tall in 8th grade and looked like I might catch my father who is 6' 8". The strange thing about me is that from the waist up my father and I are the same length. My legs are 6" shorter than his. I cannot be sure, but I wonder if my legs never became what they were meant to be because of my handicap.
In high school I wound up with a choice, continue playing basketball or join the Bible Bowl team at the church. I knew my basketball playing days were numbered as other guys started shooting up past me. Soon I was no longer the tallest guy around. I became quite average in height over night. My short, thick legs were more suited for the football field than the basketball court by now, and I excelled there. So Bible Bowl it was.
I haven't mentioned yet that my dad was an all-state high school basketball player, college basketball player, professional basketball player, and basketball coach. The choice to leave the game was tough to say the least.
For years, I complained to God about my legs. I couldn't find pants that fit. I couldn't jump very well. I was short (for my family). I could never buy shirts that were long enough. I fell often. I was cheated out of a perfect basketball body, and my dad was never given the son to follow his basketball legacy.
After 21 years of pastoral ministry, I still complain about short ties and the occasional fall, but I have come to accept that God wants me just as I am. I have learned to connect with athletes and the handicapped. I understand what it means to play and fall down. I have a heart for people who "can't." I am what I am today because of the way God made me 46 years ago. Today I wouldn't change a thing.
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