My first year of Junior College was when I began training for pole vault – a completely new sport after ten years of table tennis and six years of running middle-long distances.

It was something completely new, challenging and addictive. Wanting to win my first individual gold medal, I began training in earnest.

But in the short three months leading up to the National School Games (NSG), I started to develop a sharp pain in my right shin every time I jumped.

Turns out, I was not accustomed to the repeated high impact – but I decided to put it off until after my competition. There were times when I could barely jump, and simply walking made my shin feel numb from pain, but I trusted that God would sustain me through the season. 

Right after clinching the gold medal (in a very close fight!), I went for an ultrasound, X-ray and CT scan, and was informed by my doctor that I should not return to the sport given the degree of inflammation in my tibia.

I didn’t accept that, so I was given a three month ban from training instead.

While the news was frustrating, I knew that I needed to rest. My training changed from vaulting into the air to rehabilitation exercises and upper body drills.

All the while, I held onto the hope that I would be healed completely, that I would be able to break the record the next year, and that, with that height, I would be able to qualify for an international competition to represent Singapore for the first time in my life.

I thought that such achievements would ultimately bring glory to God, but little did I know that God had a journey He wanted to lead me through to reach this destination.

In July, I could finally jump again with only sporadic feelings of pain. I was overjoyed and excited to see improvements in my jumps.

My dreams were torn up again

But, in a laughably tragic turn of events, I partially tore my rotator cuff from doing something silly.

The massive cracking sound from my right shoulder sounded like my dreams being torn in two. In a few hours, I could barely lift my arm over my head to take off my clothes before showering.

The physiotherapist suggested I avoid any overhead actions in the future. Again, I was told to stop doing this sport that I had come to love. I objected rather vehemently and was given another three month break again.

Now, my legs were fine but my arms couldn’t use the pole. I was back to square one again!

At this point, I was questioning God. Why would He allow me to get injured? Why wouldn’t He just heal me?

My reasoning was that receiving healing would be a miracle which brings glory to God, and I would get to train towards achieving what I wished for and ultimately glorify God as well. Win-win.

But as I struggled through hours of rehab and worried about the dwindling time I had to train before the next NSG, I found myself having no choice but to rely on God’s hope and strength instead of my own.

Sometimes, God does not provide a way out – He provides a way through.

I began to realise that I was not in full control of my life and my plans and that I needed to surrender my dreams to God and let Him work through me.

My mother pointed out that just as I have to let the pole lead and follow behind it when I jump, I also have to trust God and let Him lead me.

My experience was slowly helping me understand God more and more. Sometimes, God does not provide a way out – He provides a way through.

Perfect peace

After I was cleared to return to training at full capacity, I redoubled my efforts. My progress had stagnated since NSG, and I only had about six months left until my final NSG.

I treated every training very seriously, took better care of myself, and thanked God for each pain-free jump.

As NSG drew closer and I started being plagued by anxiety, my mother and I began praying every night that…

• I would not be afraid (pole vault is a fear-inducing sport, after all)
• I would not be discouraged by the slow pace of progress
• I would put my trust in God

I played worship songs as I foam-rolled to keep my mind from spiralling into pessimistic thoughts like “What if I get injured?” or “What if I don’t manage to clear the height?”

Through prayer and worship, I learnt to trust God by surrendering my thoughts, emotions, physical state and even the outcome of my competition.

In return, I received perfect peace, just as His Word says in Isaiah 26:3: “You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast because they trust in you”.

Only by fixing my eyes on God and declaring His promises over my life, could I receive reprieve from the uncertainty and my anxiety. Indeed, during moments of uncertainty, I found assurance that God is in control.

Breakthrough

Ultimately, I went into NSG having never cleared the record height in training. Yet I felt perfect peace as the competition progressed.

I prayed incessantly and asked God to grant me this victory. After failing the first two attempts at the record height of 3.37m, I still clung to hope, knowing that God was with me.

On my third and last attempt, as I stood on the runway praying in tongues, I experienced a bizarre sensation. The fire of God coursed through my body; heat was emanating within me from head to toe.

In my mind, I saw a clear vision of myself crossing the height. A few moments later, that vision became reality.

In the midst of injuries, setbacks, and disappointments, it’s hard to believe that God still has the best plan.

I have accepted that I may never understand why certain things happen because God is sovereign and His ways are higher than mine.

But I’ve also come to appreciate that trying times are opportunities for us to seek Him wholeheartedly for peace, hope and guidance. They are opportunities to know His Word and who He is. To encounter His divine presence.

I’ve come to realise that through this process of being broken and growing in God’s truth, my life becomes a beacon of light that shines bright for Christ!