“God does not comfort us to make us comfortable, but to make us comforters.”
–J. H. Jowett

This past weekend I was all set to play in a racquetball tournament in Seattle. All set to play with a new mixed partner, Lisa, in a doubles division. We had talked and talked about this for months. We stepped on the court for our first match… and lost. It was close, and we had fun and we were competitive. We had potential. After the match, our day continued on as planned. I had a tournament to help run, and my doubles partner had a singles match to play. And she and I had more doubles matches later in the tournament.

As I was working the tournament desk later, a buzz erupted from down the hall. Someone was down and hurt. Seriously hurt. Like call the club staff and possibly 911 hurt. Since I was helping run the tournament, I also knew Lisa was on that court. Well, it was indeed that my partner, and friend, was hurt. Some how she had hurt her achilles, very badly. In the ensuing moments, calls were made to 911 and they were on their way. During that time, several of us took turns holding Lisa’s hand. Others spoke with her, but I only held her hand, unsure exactly what to say. But inside I was praying earnestly for her.

Anyway, during the time that Lisa was down on the court, and during brief times that I actually held her hand, we never made eye contact. I wasn’t sure she even knew that I was there. That wasn’t important to me.

On Monday, after the tournament, I got a very nice email from Lisa thanking me. Thanking me for being there. For holding her hand.

What? How did she know?

It wasn’t important, I guess. I know. I knew it then.

Lisa has surgery today. So again I will be praying. Preliminary estimates are that she will be out of racquetball for possibly a year.