Title: In the Wake of Pain
The night was still, save for the distant hum of traffic outside the small apartment. Seth Henigan sat alone, his eyes vacant, staring at the dim glow of the television that no longer caught his attention. His fingers curled into the soft fabric of the couch, and his body ached from more than just the physical injury. It was the kind of pain that sank deep, a wound that couldn’t be stitched up with bandages or time. He hadn’t told anyone about the sharp, constant throbbing beneath his ribs—the way it gnawed at his soul when he tried to sleep.
He was a football player, for God’s sake. People admired him for the way he moved on the field, how effortlessly he dodged opponents and launched passes with precision. But no one saw the silent battle that raged within him every day. The pain, the weight of an injury that lingered too long and refused to heal. The doctors said it was just a matter of recovery, but Seth knew better. The bruises might fade, the swelling might subside, but the toll it had taken on him was far deeper than the physical.
He could still hear the echoes of his teammates in the locker room, joking, laughing, full of life. He had been part of that energy, that drive. But now, everything felt distant, like a memory he couldn’t quite reach. His body wasn’t just breaking down; it was betraying him. Every movement, every breath, every moment was a reminder of what he had lost. The game he loved. The purpose he once had.
Seth ran a hand through his hair, pulling at the roots in frustration. He could still see the moment it all changed—the hit that had knocked him off his path. His body had crumpled beneath the force, the world spinning as his ribs had cracked. But it wasn’t just the physical injury. It was the realization that the future he had envisioned was slipping away, like sand through his fingers.
There were days when he didn’t want to leave the house, didn’t want to face the questions, the pity in the eyes of those who once looked up to him. The pain wasn’t just in his body anymore—it was in the way people talked to him, the way they looked at him, as though his worth was measured only by his athleticism. Now, without the game, without the identity he had built around it, Seth was lost. The pain was consuming him, not just in his chest, but in his heart.
“Why did it have to be me?” he whispered into the silence, his voice breaking. It wasn’t a cry for sympathy. It was a question, a plea for understanding. He had fought so hard to be the best, to be the one others looked to for strength. Now, he felt weak, powerless, as though he was drowning in a sea of his own doubts.
The phone vibrated in his pocket, pulling him from his thoughts. He didn’t want to answer. He didn’t want to hear another voice telling him everything would be okay. But something tugged at him. Hesitantly, he pulled the phone free, seeing a message from an old friend.
“Hey, Seth. I know things are rough right now, but I’m praying for you. The pain won’t last forever. Keep fighting.”
His throat tightened as he read the words. They weren’t a cure, nor a magic fix. But they were a lifeline. A reminder that he wasn’t truly alone. Seth squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stifle the tears that threatened to break through.
He wasn’t sure what the future held, or if he’d ever fully heal. But in that moment, something shifted within him. The pain was still there, gnawing at him, but it wasn’t everything. Maybe, just maybe, there was a way forward—one step at a time, even if he had to crawl. He wasn’t finished. Not yet.
And for the first time in weeks, he whispered a prayer of his own: “Help me, Lord. Help me find my way back.”
