Discovering God in America

Children across America will either have today off or learn about Christopher Columbus’ discovery of America.  Meanwhile, I will be celebrating a 27 year anniversary.  On this day in 1985, I discovered the power of God in America.

I was a junior in high school running in a cross country race I felt destined to win.  Although I was competing against 4 high school all-American runners, I was 4th place at the mile mark, a few strides behind the 3 leaders.  While running down a path like the caption above, I fell into a hole covered by fallen leaves, twisting my ankle.  After falling to the ground for a moment, I shook off the pieces of gravel from my hands, got back up and hobbled to the finish several minutes behind the lead pack.

After the race, I was taken to a local medical center and a few days later to the A.I. Dupont Children’s Hospital, one of the best medical facilities on the east Coast.  Initially thinking I had a high ankle sprain, I was hoping to return for the post-season since our team was ranked second in the state.  When I received a second opinion, my world was turned upside down upon hearing the doctor’s prognosis.  “You will never run again!  You may be able to walk, yet you will likely have a slight limp for the rest of your life.”

The day before my surgery, I came back to school, seeking prayer from my Christian friends involved in the Fellowship of Christian Athletes.  In between classes, as the word spread about my operation, I was greeted by hugs, prayers and the love of Christ.  I honestly don’t remember what these people said as they prayed before each class, yet I do recall being filled with a peace that surpasses all understanding, Philippians 4:6-7.

Before my surgery, the chief surgeon at Thomas Jefferson Hospital, explained exactly what he was going to do during the 3 hour procedure.  I was a 1 in every 10 year injury, tearing all of my ligaments, causing the bone attached to the ankle to shift 90 degrees.  At least I was famous, well not really, but the doctor instilled a hope within me as he put me under anesthesia.  As the lights turned black, I was unconscious for several hours.

Once the drugs wore off, I met face to face with an ecstatic surgeon.  To his amazement, as soon as he reattachment the bone to the ligaments, it magically went back into place, not requiring a screw as he first intended.  I had to wear a protective boot for a few years, yet I was able to run my senior of year of high school.  In fact, before I could walk, I began swimming on the swim team, having our 200 I.M. Relay place 3rd in the state meet.

As I reflect upon another Columbus Day, I know that the prayers my friends prayed miraculously healed my ankle, not magic.  When I began to train in the summer of 1986 for my final season, God revealed to me a powerful promise related to running.  As David, a shepherd walking up and down hills and along side the edge of mountain, he prayed this prayer, ” You broaden my path beneath me, so that my ankles do not turn.”  Since this discovery, every time I have quoted this prayer before running, I haven’t twisted my ankle.  If you look around you today, you too can discover God is alive in America!

by Jay Mankus

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