It was a sight that overcame me for a moment. Five months after a serious head injury, my son, Chase, could run. And he could do so well.
After months of rehabilitation, and continued struggle with both head pain and equilibrium, progress seemed to be so slow. A compensated gait gave us all the illusion that Chase was regaining normal mobility, but repeated tests and exercises in therapy would show that his balance was still very compromised.
With just a few weeks away from the beginning of his eighth grade year, Chase and I attended a physical therapy session, one that unbeknownst to the two of us, would be his very last.
Each test that had caused my heart pain now caused my heart relief.
Each exercise that had produced weariness in my soul now brought restoration to it.
And each exertion that had brought anguish to the face of my son now brought triumphant joy.
With tears in her eyes, the therapist watched my son jog the distance that once could have only been accomplished by wheelchair. Tears spilled over as she observed Chase sprint the final yards that once could have only been achieved with faltering steps.
When told by his therapist that rehabilitation was complete, the slow, wide grin that spread across the face of my steady, faithful son is one I will always remember. I knew exactly what he was thinking.
It was now time for him to soar.
"But those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint." Isaiah 40:31