Posted August 29, 2011

The other day I hurt myself. I tried to kick-start my father-in-law’s motorcycle for the first time. My wife had said that her dad kick-started the bike every time he rode it. When he loaned me the bike, he warned me how kick-starting could hurt if I wasn’t careful, and that I should stick to the starter button.

Now the starter hasn’t worked great since I borrowed the bike and it’s been getting worse as of late. I thought to myself, “How hard could kick-starting really be?“

The first couple of times I stepped on the kicker with no luck. My wife informed me that her dad used to really jump on it when kick-starting it. “Alright,” I thought “I can do this!“

I straddled the bike with the ball of my right foot firmly placed on the kicker. I made sure that my left foot was firmly planted, in the unlikely chance that something should go wrong.

And go wrong it did!

I leaped in the air, dropping all my weight on my right foot, depressing the kick-start with as much force as I could muster. No sooner did I get to the bottom of the kicker, when all of a sudden it shot right back up!

Unfortunately, instead of lifting me into the air, it just drove the ball and toes of my foot straight back like a rubber band that had just been snapped. I honestly thought that the toe of my boot touched my shin. I was immediately writhing in pain!

As I think of it now, if the kick-stand hadn’t been down I likely would have dropped the bike. That would have been a sight; left foot smashed and right foot whip-lashed! Thankfully, that didn’t happen.

I hobbled to the door of the house.

I opened it and stumbled inside. As I bent over the couch in agony, my wife asked the obvious question. “What happened?” My only words were, “I think I broke my ankle.” Her eyes were quite large as she could see I was in obvious pain.

At this point, my son (who was supposed to be taking a nap) came out of his bedroom to see if I was okay. He obviously had listened to the event and was concerned about his father’s well-being. My wife told him, “Daddy’s okay; go back to bed.” And off he went.

Though I did not feel that I was completely okay, it wasn’t worth him seeing his dad lying on the couch, gasping in agony. Whether or not my wife was telling truth about daddy being “okay” wasn’t really my primary concern at that moment.

I was more concerned about whether or not I would walk again, never mind kick-starting a motorcycle again!

The pain started to subside.

I explained to my wife what had happened with the kicker. Little by little, I moved my foot and realized that I did not break my ankle but definitely gave myself a nasty sprain.

Later that night, I knelt down to pray with my son. He led out with this prayer.

“Dear God, thank you for my dad. Thank you for my dad. Thank you for my dad. And thank you for my dad’s ankles. In Jesus Name, Amen.“

After I took my turn praying, I thanked him for praying for my ankles and left his bedroom. Once again, I am amazed at my son’s prayer. He was legitimately concerned for my ankle. The fact that he was working out how to pray for me was such a blessing!

He thanked God for me three times before he could verbalize what he really wanted to talk about. I’m sure he wanted to ask God to heal my ankle, but he’s so used to simply thanking God for things that he defaulted to that type of prayer.

The next day he was still concerned.

As soon as he saw me he asked about my ankle. I was pleased to tell him that it was in fact, feeling a lot better. I continued to tell him that I’m sure that his prayer had something to do with it and that I was thankful for remembering to ask.

He was very pleased and I was encouraged to walk with him through this lesson on petitioning God for healing.

Join the Conversation; Share Your Thoughts:

• Is there a particular event that helped kick-start your child’s prayer life?
• Do you have a story of injury and healing, where prayer has been the key factor?