Experiencing pain is part of life. Hopefully it produces growth. Regardless of what gets us into uncomfortable or agonizing situations, our Father is always near to us showing us grace.
Riding a skateboard isn’t like riding a bike. You can’t jump on a board and grind your way through the neighborhood if you haven’t ridden in months. It takes core balance and a strong center of gravity, both horizontal and vertical. A lot of continued practice is necessary to hold your own on a board and become an aggressive skater. Or to use the skater term: shred. Bombing a hill is even more intense than that.
My 10-year-old son, has a pretty gnarly skateboard. My husband, Sean, got it for him right after we moved to Northern Virginia at the beginning of 2016. Last week, he tried something brave. Historically he has started at our driveway and allowed the board to pick up speed as he glides down the slight grade of our street. But yesterday he went three houses up to the top of the hill. About 35 to 40 yards down he zoomed past our house. He saw Sean watching from our yard and yelled, I’m going too fast! I’m terrified I’m gonna crash! Sean started walking toward him.
Soon after, the wheels started to shimmy. In his fear, he didn’t remember to crouch or heel brake; he just stood straight barreling down the hill. Inevitably, he crashed and rolled about 20 feet. Sean got to him. He asked, “Can you stand up?” The response, “No.” So Sean picked him up. They made the walk back to the house, my son unavoidably smiling because Sean said: That was epic. I guess you know your new limit.
At this point I walked outside and my girls told me he had crashed. I asked if it was bad and they said, “Dad’s with him.” When I saw the blood, I went back inside, grabbed first aid supplies, and took over.

Pain and Grace…
For Sean, caring for our son in that moment meant letting him be in pain, but holding him through that pain. He said, “Crying doesn’t make you weak; it just means you feel. They aren’t synonymous with one another. Pain is real; consequences can sometimes be overwhelming, but our Father stays. So will I.”
As a mother, I knew he would be okay. In God’s mercy, there were no broken bones, and his helmet had protected from a head wound or concussion. I didn’t want to fuss over him, but he was in a lot of pain. Tending to his wounds with soft cloths and oils felt like the natural nurturing thing to do.
Both approaches were good and right. Now, we haven’t always responded the way we did last week. Sean used to approach injuries with practicality. If they weren’t dying and didn’t need stitches, they’d feel better soon enough. But he was never harsh or uncaring. I, on the other hand, took the path of reassurance and hands-on treatment. Whatever they needed to feel or express in the moment was okay while I communicated the pain wouldn’t last forever. Discomfort in others equals discomfort for me. I needed to fix them and make them happy ASAP. I feel like Sean and I balanced each other out, even if we didn’t see eye to eye with the other’s methodology.
That’s why my son’s most recent crash was different. Sean took on a role of nurturing and attentiveness. I still cleaned up the wounds, but it wasn’t because of a felt need for tranquility. It had more to do with the fact that we were on our way out the door and I didn’t want blood dripping down his arms and legs at a restaurant. There was no question he would be okay. And I knew his father had cared well for him.
Near…
Experiencing pain is never fun whether self-inflicted or not. But last week’s event reminded Sean and me that every moment of brokenness is an opportunity to show or encounter grace. Testing boundaries is part of life. Hopefully it produces growth. Regardless of what gets us into uncomfortable or agonizing situations, our Father is always near to us.
Be strong. Take courage. Don’t be intimidated. Don’t give them a second thought because God, your God, is striding ahead of you. He’s right there with you. He won’t let you down; he won’t leave you.
Deuteronomy 31:6, MSG
Every moment of brokenness is an opportunity to show or encounter grace. Click To Tweet




I can sit with emotional pain all day long (in fact I do as a therapist) but sitting with my kid’s physical pain is so much harder for me to handle. I want to take it away but I love your husband’s statement “I guess you know your new limit.”
“But God” are two of my favorite words. Great post.
Thanks Heather!
Thank you for the reminder that God is is always near us! It’s especially comforting when we are in pain and are struggling!