A Hard Question

I am in physical therapy for the next few weeks.
Nothing serious.
Just heel pain that is really due to tight Achilles tendons.
I am strengthening muscles that apparently I don’t use often or appropriately.

It’s funny to walk in a way that you are not used to walking.
It’s odd to walk with one foot literally in front of the other along a straight line.
We all learn to walk as children, but often we don’t walk the right way.
I am learning how the littlest thing connected to something else really makes a difference.

As I was working with a band around my foot, an older gentleman was diagonal to me.
He smiled and said, Good morning.
I thought I heard the faintest bit of an English accent, which is one of my favorites.
I listened as he talked to the physical therapist that was working with both of us.

I heard a word here and there that gave it away.
The man was British.
As we were both working on strengthening at our respective tables, he spoke to me.
It was enough small talk, that I felt comfortable to ask him what I was dying to know.

Do I hear a bit of an English accent? I asked already knowing the answer.
You do, he said proudly.
It sounds lovely, I said, Where are you from?
Manchester, he responded.

I knew that I had heard of Manchester because of the football (ahem…soccer) team.
I didn’t know enough about the team to go down that road.
How long do you think I’ve been in the States? He asked me.
Twenty years? I guessed, knowing it was much more.

More! He said, wanting me to guess.
Thirty? I guessed again.
Try again, he said quite proud of himself.
Forty, Fifty? I guessed, trying to pull the band around my foot in a certain way.

I’ve been here fifty-five years! He said quite pleased.
Well, you still have your accent and it sounds wonderful. I said.
We each went back to focusing on what we were supposed to do.
The older gentleman was finished before me and got up from the table.

As he was waiting for instructions, he asked a question of me and our physical therapist.
What king became president of the United States? He asked with a twinkle in his eye.
I thought he must be mistaken.
No king of England became President of the United States.

Both the physical therapist and I gave up.
We don’t know, we both said together.
Leslie Lynch King became President of the United States, he stated.
We know him as Gerald R. Ford, he announced.

The physical therapist and I looked at each other.
Neither of us knew what to say.
The man said Goodbye with the loveliest British accent and left the building.
I wondered if the man was correct.

I got home and asked my husband.
He has biographies of many of our Presidents on the bookshelves in his office.
I knew he had one on Gerald Ford.
He got a used copy of the book and discovered that it was signed by the former President.

My husband had no idea.
If he had read about his name being different, he didn’t remember.
I went to his office and pulled the biography off the shelf.
I turned to chapter two, which told about his boyhood.

There it was!
Leslie Lynch King was his given name as a boy.
His mother divorced and married a man by the name of Gerald R. Ford.
That man later adopted our former President and gave him his new name.

A British man told me a bit of my own history that I had not known.
He knew that we would be stumped.
There was a bit of pride in teasing us about a king who became President.
Coming from this gentleman, the irony was not lost.

The queen of Sheba heard about Solomon’s fame connected with the name of the Lord and came to test him with difficult questions.  She came to Jerusalem with a very large entourage, with camels bearing spices, gold in great abundance, and precious stones. She came to Solomon and spoke to him about everything that was on her mind.  So Solomon answered all her questions; nothing was too difficult for the king to explain to her. (1 Kings 10:1-3)

Solomon was the son of King David and Bathsheba.
After the death of his father, Solomon became king.
He was young and the job seemed quite daunting to him.
God spoke to Solomon in a dream and told him that he could ask for anything.

Solomon asked for wisdom, so that he could govern the people justly.
Solomon didn’t ask for long life, or riches, or the lives of his enemies.
God gave him the wisdom he sought.
God also gave Solomon the things he did not ask for.

People from all over the ancient world marveled at Solomon.
The Queen of Sheba visited Solomon, bringing him many gifts from her country.
The Queen of Sheba asked Solomon many hard questions.
Solomon was able to answer them all.

Wisdom is a wonderful thing for which to ask God.
Wisdom is not knowledge per se, as much as it is how to use the knowledge you have.
Wisdom is not something everyone possesses.
We do not come by it naturally.

Wisdom is something we should pray for.
Wisdom is something God loves to give to His people.
Reading God’s Word will increase our wisdom.
The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. (Proverbs 9:10)

If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you. (James 1:5)

I was asked a hard question.
I didn’t know the answer then, but I know it now.
We have a Source to which we should run for wisdom.
The beginning of wisdom is this: Get wisdom. Though it cost all you have, get understanding.
(Proverbs 4:7)