One minute I was striding up the rocky and remote access road behind our high school and the next moment I lay sprawled on the ground. One slip on a rock, one misstep, and in one second this happy walker morphed into a casualty of exercise. I didn’t know it then, but my hip was broken. I lay on the ground wondering if I could get up. Pulling myself to a standing position, I looked around. At least fifty yards separated me from the nearest paved street. Tall weeds and brush surrounded me. How could anyone spot me from here? I took a few steps. It was painful, but I could walk. I started limping to the nearest road.

Possible scenarios raced through my mind, if I called my husband. What if he tried to drive his car up this steep road only a jeep could maneuver and got stuck? Worse yet, I imagined him carrying me to the road and falling headlong with the both of us. Later my daughter would tell me I should have called an ambulance. It entered my mind, but I could walk. Surely I didn’t break a bone. I hobbled on.

As Providence would have it, just as I spotted the street, a recycling truck rumbled into sight. A man shouted, “Do you need help?” I waved my hand and hollered, “Yes!” Two guys ran through waist-high weeds to reach me. They shouldered my arms, walked me to the road’s edge and sat me on an upturned recycling bin. I called my husband.

After phoning our doctor and x-rays, I shuffled into the emergency room, leaning on a cane, while my husband parked the car. I told the receptionist I broke my hip.

“How long ago?” she asked, glancing at her computer.

“This morning.”

“What!” She slapped the desk. “And you’re walking? I thought you were here for a checkup.”

They sat me in a wheelchair and rolled me into a room.  Right before nurses poked, prodded and drew blood my family doctor called. “You’re


going to need surgery.”

My mind hit the wall. A stumble in the road had stopped my marathon of plans.

James 4: 13, 14 says, “Now listen, you who say, ‘Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money.’ Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.”

My plans had gone up in smoke. We had to cancel a tropical vacation. I had to miss a conference.

The next day my broken hip would be replaced with a new one. Three months of recovery soon filled my life. Physical therapy replaced long walks.

Although God did not cause my accident, He turned a mishap into a marvel. I had been busy doing things for Him. Now I could sit at his feet


and listen. My busyness was taking a backseat to my relationship with Him. I was on a new path.


    2 replies to "Stopped in My Tracks"

    • Donna

      Hmmmm. This sounds so familiar Cindy I was recently knocked down by a 75 lb Labrador at my pastors home. After excruciating pain a broken femur was discovered. Surgery. Rehab therapy… God is still good!!

      • Cindy Noonan

        Wow, Donna! We have had similar experiences. It’s been a long recovery but God has taught me a lot.

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