Kara Scott’s heart had never pounded like this, not even during a competition. This would be her last year of high school gymnastics and was her first time in the gym in five months. She had been in the sport since she was five years old, but never had that skinny bar in front of her looked so ominous. She thrust her sweaty palms into the chalk basin one more time before stepping onto the mat. “Lord Jesus, please help me to not be scared.” She brought her left leg up and touched her foot to her right knee. Yep—her balance seemed good. She took a deep breath and looked at her dad, who was also her coach. “You can do it, Kara, nice and easy.”
Five months earlier, everything came crashing down—literally. It happened during the District meet when Kara was competing on the balance beam, her strongest event. She was favored to win the individual state title in it. But during her final tumbling pass that day, she fell and hit her head on the beam. Or, so that’s what she was told. She couldn’t remember that day at all—not even the customary “Beam me up, Scottie!” from her teammates. The concussion was serious and caused her to sit out the rest of the season and all of summer training.
She spent two days in the hospital enduring tests and much poking and prodding, although all that was fuzzy, too. She just remembers being angry and frustrated but not knowing why. Not only did her head feel like it would explode at any minute, but it was spinning like a top. When the doctors told her that her gymnastics season was over, she flew into a rage of tears. Gymnastics was her life—there was nothing else. Figuring out what happened that day was like doing a jigsaw puzzle in her mind with several missing pieces. She begged her parents to let her watch the video of her fall, because she thought it would help her settle the confusion. They finally gave in. Seeing her head hit the beam made her sick to her stomach.
It was a frustrating time for Kara and for her dad. He had coached and groomed her to never quit and to always give it your all. Now, she felt like she had let him down. She could not understand why God would let such a thing happen. Didn’t He know that gymnastics was all she had? The only thing that was important to her? The most maddening part was that her balance, which is essential to a gymnast, was off. She felt like she was tipping to one side.
Kara still didn’t feel great when school let out for the summer. Regionals and then State came and went without her participating or even attending. She couldn’t bear to watch. Her archrival from across town won the state title in the balance beam, which only compounded her resentment of being sidelined. She clenched her teeth to fight off the tears every time she thought about it.
Kara’s days were spent napping and watching TV. Her mom wanted her to go out with her friends just for some different scenery, but she refused. She continued to be slightly unbalanced, and her head still hurt, too. One afternoon, the anger at God she had tried to suppress finally erupted into the silence of her aloneness, “You know how much I love gymnastics! You know how good I am at it. How could you take this away from me? If I can’t even walk across the room without losing my balance, how will I ever get on any apparatus again? What am I supposed to do now?” Nothing—no big revelation, but lightning didn’t come down to strike her dead, either. The outburst just made her head hurt more.
The next day Kara noticed that the childhood Bible that Nana had given her was on the coffee table. She wondered why it was there; she hadn’t taken it off the shelf in years. Out of sentiment for her grandmother who had died last year, she opened it up. There, on the inside cover, was Nana’s message to her:
“Happy 10th Birthday my dear, sweet Kara! You are a big girl now—seems like only yesterday that you were born. May God bless you as you read His words of love to you in this beautiful book. Always stay close to Jesus; He will never let you down. Remember to keep your balance.”
Keep my balance? Her skin tingled—Nana knew she was off-kilter, even back then. By the time Kara was twelve, she was eating, drinking, and dreaming gymnastics. No one was more excited than her dad. He wanted Kara to realize her full potential, and that meant spending many hours in the gym. Her mom worried that the pressure was too much. Nana was supportive, but always talked to her about maintaining other parts of her life, as well. Of course, Kara didn’t listen. Slowly over the years, gymnastics became her life, not just something in her life. Her relationship with God pretty much slipped by the wayside, her grades were only high enough to keep her participating in the meets, and her only friends were the girls on the team.
Now that her beloved sport was put on hold, and hopefully not permanently deleted, she felt completely lost. What was there to life otherwise? She flipped through the pages of the pre-teen Bible and read a little here and there until the lightheadedness made it hard to read. Each day she read a little more, hoping she could get her eyes re-trained. After about two weeks of that, she realized she could focus better and for longer periods of time. Her head no longer hurt nearly as much. And, the words in the little Bible were becoming more interesting to her, more familiar, and more comforting. When Kara told her mom that she thought God was trying to tell her something, her mom took her in her arms, “Yes, Kara! I’ve been hoping and praying that you would use this time to draw closer to Him. He is showing you that your life is so much more than just gymnastics. You are His child, and He loves you way too much to make you that one-dimensional.”
So, now she was in this place again, staring at the apparatus in front of her that was so familiar and yet completely foreign and scary. Even if her mind didn’t remember what happened last spring, her body sure did. “You can do it, Kara, nice and easy.” Kara smiled—Beam me up, Lord—and pulled herself onto the balance beam. She positioned her feet and took another deep breath. Relief and joy spread like a flowing river, from the top of her head to her perfectly pointed toes. She was here and she could do this.
“And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose.” (Romans 8:28, NAS)
©2011 Tammy Maseberg All Rights Reserved
