The Theology of Injury: What My Knee Taught Me About Limits

For as long as I can remember, I’ve dealt with my right knee. I say “dealt with” because it’s been a real thorn. I started skating and playing hockey when I was 5, and it was never really an issue (but maybe that’s just because kids are made of Play-Doh and dreams). I do remember getting hit with a slash when I was 14 while I was on a breakaway Gordon Bombay-style. Real ones know.

It’s been an issue ever since and it seems like every couple of years, the dreaded “runner’s knee” flares up, or my Achilles decides it wants to just hurt nonstop. And no matter what I do, or who I see, or what shoes I wear, or how badly I want to PR my next race or add an extra 10 lbs to my squat, I’m forced to take time off. I’m forced to modify. I’m forced to reckon with the fact that I’m not, in fact, invincible.

My body is a machine that I control, and it's part of my identity. If I train hard enough, eat right, and recover smart, I can avoid injury and keep doing what I love. Right?

Your body has limits.

Here’s the reality: you can do everything right and still get hurt. You’re not invincible.

But we act like we are.

And if you’re like me, there’s a spiritual component to everything we do. “If God made me,” the reasoning goes, “then why would He let my body break like this? What am I supposed to learn from this betrayal?”

The Apostle Paul knew something about betrayal.

From having stones thrown at him and left for dead, to being chased out of cities and being lowered down in baskets from walls, he had been through the ringer.

But through all of that, he was bugged by one main thing: a “thorn.”

We never find out what the thorn actually is (popular theories are malaria, a degenerative eye condition, migraines, epilepsy, or a speech condition), but we know that he prayed to God three times to get rid of it.

SIDENOTE: 3 times? I’m praying almost every HOUR when my knee is acting up. Good for you, Paul.

In the middle of all of that prayer to get rid of his “thorn,” God answers him with this:

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” (2 Corinthians 12:9 NIV)

Paul begs God to remove his weakness.

God says no.

End of story. Sort of.

Because God shows up in every OTHER way possible. He gives Paul the power to heal and to preach and to plant churches and to literally change the world.

God’s strength showed up and showed OFF in Paul’s weakness.

Your Body Has Limits (And That's By Design).

God didn’t create Paul to be invincible. And yet Paul changed the course of human history. It’s funny because Paul calls his thorn a “messenger of Satan” used to keep him humble in v. 8. Of course! If I was seeing the Gospel being spread to thousands, if I had been planting churches at that rate, if I was doing all the good that Paul was doing, I’d be liable to get proud! And so would you!

We are limited, finite creatures, with limited, finite resources. We are NOT the infinite God. And our injuries and weaknesses REMIND us of that fact.

God didn't create you to be invincible. Limits aren't a design flaw—they're a feature. They remind you that you're human, not God.

So when your knee gives out or your back seizes up or your shoulder won't rotate anymore, that's not God punishing you. That's God reminding you: You're human. You're finite. You're not in control. And that's okay.

Because He is.

Dependence Is the Point.

When you're healthy and strong, you don't think you need God. Or anyone else, really.

You've got this. You're crushing your training. Your numbers are going up. Your PRs are stacking. You're self-sufficient.

And then you get hurt.

Suddenly, you need physical therapists to diagnose what's wrong. You need coaches to modify your programming. You need friends or TikTok or Instagram to encourage you when you're sitting on the couch watching everyone else train. You need God to give you patience when healing takes longer than you thought.

Injury strips away the illusion of independence.

And here's the hard truth: dependence isn't weakness. It's humility in pain form. It's admitting that you're not enough on your own. That you need help. That you need God.

Paul learned that. His thorn forced him to depend on God's strength instead of his own.

And God showed up.

Same for you.

If you’re suffering from an injury right now and your training is taking a bit of a backseat to healing right now…look. I’m sorry. I know that feeling. I’m there with you right now, as a matter of fact (my knee and now my hip are doing the thing where they just don’t want to work anymore. Tons of laughs.)

But take this space to really audit who you are and what you’re doing in your life.

Answer this question: “What can my body STILL do?”

Not, “What did it used to be able to?”

But, “What things CAN I do”?

Maybe you can't run, but you can walk. Maybe you can't squat heavy, but you can do mobility work. Maybe you can't compete, but you can coach someone else.

Your body still works. Just differently. And God can still use you. Just differently.

And then, take a second and pray this with me: ”God, I can’t control my body’s timeline. I can’t force healing. I can only surrender it to You. Help me to focus on what I CAN do in this time, and help me to see what it is that You want to teach me. And then, unleash me on those who need to see Your Kingdom at work.”

Your injury won't last forever. But the lessons might. Let God use this waiting room to build something in you that strength never could.