want it my way

I was walking from the Notre Dame Center, where I am staying in Jerusalem, down the hill, as in across the Kidron Valley, when I heard something from my knee that sounded like the noise that you make when you crack your knuckles. If felt like the knee was collapsing from under me. It really hurt to walk. Using any fence or post or street pole to help, I made my way toward the church that marks the place of the agony of Jesus on Holy Thursday night. Great, I had three days in Jerusalem to do nothing or to do whatever I wanted, and my knee gives out! Yeah, I know: “Not my will, but his will be done. May I will want he wants, and want what he wills. There is blessing and better life in everything.” But how about for now, “May my will be done. May my will be his.”