Summer Sampler: The Limb That Was Lame
Welcome to the Summer Sampler Series! This summer, we are celebrating the beautiful, diverse ways God is working in and through the women in our community. Psalm 107:2 declares, “Let the redeemed of the Lord tell their story.” Every week, our Summer Sampler series will feature a different author sharing a personal glimpse into the story God has been writing in her life and ministry lately. These are authentic, honest reflections of faith, encouragement, and everyday ministry experienced “along the way” of regular life. So, grab a cool drink, pull up a chair, and join us this summer as we celebrate His presence in our everyday lives!
By Sharon Harrell
When I injured my shoulder playing pickleball (yes, me too), I started rehab—only to discover I’d torn my rotator cuff. Surgery, weeks of immobility, and 18-24 weeks of painful 5x daily exercises followed. I watched my husband make Christmas dinner for 11 of us without me lifting a finger—or an arm. (A small moment of comic relief and deep appreciation for his strength.) I was physically, mentally, and emotionally drained in ways I didn’t have words for.
Hebrews 12:12-13 (ESV) repeatedly came to mind during this time and encouraged me to lean into the healing of my shoulder.
Therefore lift your drooping hands and strengthen your weak knees, and make straight paths for your feet, so that what is lame may not be put out of joint but rather be healed.
Can you relate? Maybe the hardship isn’t a limb. Maybe it’s the exhaustion of ministry, the weight of a difficult season, or the quiet discouragement of pushing hard and feeling like nothing moves.
Since I was somewhat hobbled, I was looking for things to do. I talked with God about how that verse might apply spiritually. (I was unaware of anything that was lame—I was just tired.) In my helpful way, I suggested prayer and Scripture memory since I didn’t need my arm for those.
God smiled; He had other ideas. He advised that:
I strengthen my hands by boldly engaging instead of shrinking back,
strengthen my knees that are weak by addressing my fears, and
make straight paths for my feet by being more disciplined.
OUCH. Those were the very things I’d been working on all year, including in rehab. I felt like I had to PUSH everything up a hill and over obstacles, and those three things were the greatest internal obstacles. Why did I see everything as so hard?
When I don’t live with expectancy (the hope) of seeing the Glory of God, I find life and particularly the difficult things can make me weary, exhausted, and discouraged.
God was opening my eyes to what was truly lame. Last year was hard, in part, because I was not living with HOPE—which surprised me. I’d wrestled with hope for years, starting from a painful belief that hope only made me vulnerable to disappointment. I had wrestled with how God’s hope does not disappoint. Then Romans 5:2 challenged me to rejoice in the hope of the glory of God—not just the future hope of heaven, but seeing his glory now, in the grace that surrounds us daily. How often do I see only the gifts and miss the Glory of the Giver?
These truths I knew, but God pointed out that I was not proactively living with that hope in mind.
1 Thessalonians 5:8 calls us to put on as a helmet the hope of salvation—that hope is that we will see the Glory of God. His grace toward us and all the gifts of that grace are to reveal his Glory. It is ultimately what we long for. I knew this truth. I just wasn’t wearing that helmet. When I don’t live with expectancy (the hope) of seeing the Glory of God, I find that life and particularly the difficult things can make me weary, exhausted, and discouraged.
For me this means some new exercises:
I will stop and ask God, when I am not fully engaging, to help me step into the task with the Hope of seeing how he will reveal himself through what I’m doing—today, tomorrow, or in heaven.
When I’m hesitant or anxious in circumstances, I will stop and ask God to quench my anxiety with the Hope of seeing his Glory revealed in and through those circumstances, today, tomorrow, or in heaven.
When I do work outside my natural abilities (being more disciplined), I will rejoice in the Hope that he is transforming me—from one degree of glory to another—to increasingly reflect his Glory (2 Corinthians 3:18).
These practices have brought an energy and a sense of being lifted up toward the goal rather than pushing things up a hill and over every obstacle. The best part is there is no fear that rejoicing in the hope of the Glory of God will disappoint.
Because hope is a foundational piece of walking with God by faith, I pray as Paul did that God might cause the eyes of our hearts to be enlightened—that we may know the hope to which he has called us—and that we would daily wear it as our helmet: the hope of seeing the Glory of God.
Sharon Harrell serves alongside her husband, Jim, in the Overseed ministry, which they founded out of a shared passion for the health and support of pastor couples and families across New England. As field director, Sharon equips coaches who lead pastors’ wives in intentional small groups—guiding them through honest, meaningful conversation as they work out their faith in love, often in unseen places. Visit https://overseedspouse.org/ to learn more. After years of walking through various ministry roles together, Sharon and Jim now enjoy a sometimes quieter season of being “empty nesters”—until the kids, spouses, and grandkids come over. Whether in ministry or around the family table, their greatest joy is wrestling through what God is teaching them right where he has planted them.