I know what you might be thinking—rejoice? In this pain?
Trust me, I’ve asked the same thing.
Trust me, I’ve asked the same thing.
After my knee replacement, I had days when I sat in my recliner with tears in my eyes and a body that just... ached. My knee throbbed, the scar was red and angry, and I barely recognized the body I was living in.
Sleep was scarce. Independence felt distant. And if you had handed me this verse on one of those days? I probably would’ve set it down gently… or not so gently.
But one morning, I read these words in Jesus Calling by Sarah Young:
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If you’re facing knee replacement surgery, chances are you’ve already said the words: I’m terrified. I’m petrified. I’m scared out of my mind. Those are heavy words. And they’re real. The truth is, most of that fear comes down to one thing — the unknown.
Nobody really prepares you for the mental and emotional side of this surgery. Your surgeon will tell you what the procedure involves. Your physical therapist will walk you through exercises. But who sits you down and says, “Hey, let’s talk about the fear you’re carrying”? That part usually gets skipped, and it’s exactly what most of us need the most.
It’s easy to think of want as something shallow — like, “Sure, I want a good outcome, but that’s not up to me.”
But actually... it is.
Desire is what gives your want meaning.
Desire turns “I hope I get better” into “I will do whatever it takes to recover fully.”
Desire turns “I hope I get better” into “I will do whatever it takes to recover fully.”
And that’s exactly what I did.
My brain didn’t hesitate: Is my implant coming loose? Did something go wrong?
Even though I’m nearly three years post-op on that knee, I still went straight to the worst-case scenario. Because that’s what we do. Something unexpected happens, and we assume it’s the implant. It’s the last big thing we did, so our minds grab onto it.
You want to stay positive. You want to trust the process. But some days, the stillness gets loud.
Surrender sounds nice — until you’re forced into it. Until everything feels slow and uncertain and you’re left asking God why this is taking so long.
But somewhere in the middle of the waiting, something deeper starts to settle. That maybe you’re not doing this alone…
