Page 108 of From Ice to Home
“But I’m not dizzy,” I mutter. “I have a small headache, but I’ve had worse. My balance is fine…”
I know my own body. I’m a professional athlete. I’ve been playing hockey for more than thirteen years so I know when to push and when to let up. I know what I’m capable of.
“You blacked out, Lucas,” Kessler says, her voice firm. “That’s enough for me to call for at least twenty-four hours off the ice. You’re done for the night.”
With a small nod toward Hannah, she steps out of the room, leaving me alone with my wife. I still can’t bring myself to look at anything other than the floor. Because I know I’ll find sympathy in Hannah’s eyes. Sympathy that I don’t want right now.
My hands are trembling and I grip the examination table. I’m not sure if it’s because of adrenaline or anger. Everything inside of me wants to fight this. I want to lace back up and finish what I started.
This isn’t right, this isn’t how this is supposed to go.
Finally, I look up. Hannah is still sitting in the chair, her elbows resting on her knees, her head bowed. She’s not saying a single word, but I know what she’s doing.
She’s praying.
My heart aches knowing that I have someone in my corner who loves me enough to pray through times like these. Despite the anger and frustration swirling inside of me, a quiet ray of gratitude slips through. A small but steady light that slowly grows until it fills more and more space within.
I’m here. At Madison Square Garden.
I’m twenty-three years old and playing for the NHL.
I’m playing a Cup final game, shoulder to shoulder with an incredible team.
I have a wife who loves me. A wife who’s willing to do anything and give everything, for me and for our marriage.
I have friends who’ve become family. A home and future that’s felt real and secure…until now.
If this doesn’t work out? I’m blessed with family and a future in Georgetown.
And above all, I have my faith.
Even if it feels like someone is tearing the very purpose of my life from my chest right now, I’m choosing faith over fear.
I’m choosing faith over anger. Over disappointment. Over uncertainty.
Because I believe God brought me here for a reason. And maybe tonight doesn’t signify an ending, but rather a pause. Or a redirection.
There’s something here he wants me to learn, something he wants me to take forward.
And as much as the anger is banging on the door of my heart, demanding to be seen and heard, I try my best to shove it aside.
Because now is the time to trust.
Father, please show me. Help me understand what it is You need from me. Help me understand what’s going on because I’m not sure I can lose this part of my life. I’ve worked hard for this, and it’s a part of who I am…Maybe that’s the very thing you’re trying to show me. If this is something You want me to surrender…help me to do it. Help me believe that You’re still holding on to me.
Hannah finally looks up, her eyes thick with tears.
“Luke?” she asks, her voice fragile and uncertain.
I just shake my head before looking down. The battle inside of me is roaring louder than anything that happened on the ice.
Anger.
Gratitude.
Fear.
Frustration.
