In middle school, I spent a great deal of time in the group of kids commonly referred to as nerds. I was ridiculed for my glasses, my off-brand shoes, and my sack lunches. So when I got into high school and found I had some pretty strong talent for soccer and running, I became fairly obsessed with proving myself as good as popular kids…even if I was never welcomed into their circles. I especially wanted to be a varsity player and earn my letter. The thought of sporting the letterman jacket felt like the ultimate achievement to solidify my worth to the other kids.

Then came tragedy. In the prime of my rise to significance: killing our fall preseason soccer training and on my way to claiming my position as a started for the varsity team, I locked legs with one of the biggest guys on the team, and lost the battle. A broken leg not only set me back from soccer plans, it killed my soaring spirit of achievement. And worse, it refused to heal. What the doctor told me would take weeks, ended up taking months. Months on crutches or in a boot hobbling around the halls of the high school…in front of the same kids I wanted to impress.

If God had not have gotten my attention, I expect that year would have felt like a complete failure, and my attitude and involvement would have dropped pretty low. But having no ability to play sports, I accepted a friend’s invitation to a weekend retreat. And hobbling around the camp for three days, I encountered God in a new and powerful way.

I knew God as the one who died on the cross and who I had asked to save me. But all around me on the retreat, I met men and kids my own age who were taking their faith seriously every day: reading the Bible and praying, meeting with others to discuss their struggles, and working to see others come to know Jesus too. I fell in love with the ministry of the people of God, and it was there that my desire to be popular died, giving way to a desire to be useful to God.

A broken leg cost me a personal dream…but gave birth to God’s dream for me and in me. It was a worthy trade.

I later heard a speaker say that a shepherd will sometimes break a sheep’s leg if he can’t get it to stop wandering off. The sheep learns as it heals to stay close by. Though it sounds cruel, the harsh action is the best way to protect a teach that can’t learn to heed his warnings.

I think the Good Shepherd used that method on me.