Notions Of Devotion

I wasn’t sure the technician would let me keep the rosary that was firmly clasped between two idle hands while the MRI machine clicked, thudded and went about collecting data that would reveal how well the last three months in a body cast had panned out. If she didn’t ask me to hand it over, I surely wasn’t going to offer up my beaded armament; that which had given me a daily discourse in Christian faith.

Then, as I oftentimes do now, I wished Jesus would’ve hovered down upon a cloud and pulled up a folding chair to engage in a succoring consultation of comfort. At such a monumental and uncertain moment in my young life, I craved for the flesh-and-blood presence of the Good Shepard. Sometimes I’d bargain with the Lord saying things like, “Ok ok, You don’t have to speak. Let’s just have a chat; I’ll do all the talking. You just sit there and listen. Ok Lord?”

What is prayer to me? More than just a one-way conversation between myself and my Creator? What good does it do me if I’m the one doing all the talking; does He even listen? Surely I’m not the first, nor will I be the last, to ask such questions. I believe they’re intrinsic to human nature – skepticism at its finest.

Usually it’s at this point I remind myself that I don’t have all the answers and most likely never will. Not being a natural at mathematics, for example, doesn’t much bother me. Multiplying quadratic equations in my head just isn’t one of my talents, and I’m okay with that. Whenever a teacher introduced a new formula, first I’d wince, then try to reassure myself by saying, “First just memorize and accept it as truth; It’ll become clearer later.” Sure enough, by the time I committed the required to memory, I began thinking how maybe this is doable. True, I oftentimes couldn’t at first connect the dots, but I plowed ahead anyway, trusting that I’d eventually understand. Man, how faith is like math!

My punch card at the MRI place has certainly racked up enough points to gain me a free scan or two…or so it would seem. Bringing my rosary along to that first scan, some ten years ago now, served as a benchmark for accepting the enigmatic tenants of the Redeemer’s assignments. Those one-sided talks, those meditations of the rosary, were created to elevate our conversations with God (I prayed the Our Father and Hail Mary as many times as I could until the scan was complete). Until I began my own rosary pilgrimage, I never understood that; I didn’t see its gift of service. I now like to think of taking the 20 minutes or so out of my day to say the rosary as a service to the Prince of Peace. Does He need my prayers? No, God will continue with or without them. But I need them. The rosary (as is any form of prayer) is how we are spiritually fed; God wants us to talk to Him.

Like the wheel in a hamster’s cage, the debate over the causes of pain and suffering goes in circles – Does God cause us grief? Personally, I don’t think so, but what I’m certain of are the lessons He intermingles in the hassles. Sport has been my chosen profession and teacher of most life lessons. After every every stitch, every surgery, every competition final I didn’t make and every medal I never won I questioned God, “Why can’t it just work out the way I want it to?!” Sometimes it takes a while, but eventually He answers me with a feeling that always come back around: “My son, your struggles are my gift to you. Through them I teach you lessons whereby you grow as an athlete and as a person.”

Tomorrow morning I’ll wake up before the sun rises and being another day. As I wake up in darkness, my bedside light’ll go on; similarly, as I’ve woken up from spiritual darkness by the light of the Lord. Will His light be easy and worry-free? I’ll bet not. But I don’t think of it in those terms; rather, I think of the caveats of wisdom I can add to my ever-increasing collection. In that respect I consider myself blessed – blessed to be able to take part and blessed to be able to struggle.

Matt Hicks is a contributor to the Good Sports Blog, an elite level gymnast who has competed internationally and trained for the 2012 Olympics