Am I ready to receive what I don’t have?
What would that be? What might it look like? I have no idea. More responsibility? More open doors? More suffering for His name’s sake? I can assure you, my friends, that I’m not looking to “enlarge my borders” like Jabez, and expand my spiritual territory. I’d just be happy if God would simply make my heart larger to receive more of His peace and joy.
How long has it been since you’ve done a thoughtful inventory of your possessions? The secret of contentment is wrapped up in simple gratitude for what God has already provided you.6
Sometimes when the day (or night!) seems long, and life in the wheelchair seems like a heavy weight to bear, I remind myself that my Lord Jesus Himself was handicapped.
Jesus Himself Chose to Be Handicapped
Does that concept startle you just a little?
You know me: I’m always looking to see what God’s Word has to say about physical limitations. And when you study the life of Jesus, you have to stop and consider that although our Savior did not have a physical disability per se, He did handicap Himself when He came to earth.
Boy, did He ever.
How can I say that for sure? Well, the dictionary defines “handicap” as any difficulty that is imposed on a superior person so as to hamper or disadvantage him, making that person more equal with others.
Certainly, if we use that definition, then Jesus was handicapped.
Think of it!
On one hand, the fullness of God dwelt in Christ, yet on the other hand He “made Himself nothing.” He emptied Himself, taking the very nature of a servant. Talk about handicaps! Can you imagine a greater one? To be God on one hand, and yet to make Himself nothing! That is one severe limitation which, you would think, would have hampered our Lord or put Him at a disadvantage.
Jesus, the Master Architect of the entire universe, designed suns and stars, galaxies and planets. When He handicapped Himself, He made Himself a carpenter on earth, limiting Himself to designing common wooden chairs, stools, tables, and yokes for necks of oxen.
Jesus was also the one who spoke the Word, creating everything around us. But this same Jesus who spoke time and space into being handicapped Himself on earth, choosing instead to speak to prostitutes, lepers, and sinners.
Jesus, the one who since Satan’s fall had despised pain and suffering as one of the awful results of man’s sin, handicapped Himself on earth when His back ached and His muscles cramped and when He sweat real sweat and cried real tears and bled real blood.
When I think of all this, it strikes me that these limitations didn’t just “happen” to Jesus in the same way that circumstances “happen” to you and me. The amazing thing is that Christ chose to be handicapped. I can’t think of too many people who would actually choose to be disabled. Believe me, I know I wouldn’t! There is nothing easy, nothing fun, nothing casual about dealing with a disability. From the very get-go, it’s hard.
But Jesus chose to handicap Himself so that you and I might share eternity with Him in bodies that will never stoop, limp, falter, or fail. Jesus chose to experience pain and suffering beyond our imagination in order that you and I would one day walk the streets of heaven whole, happy, and pain free. Jesus chose to die—though that was a daunting task in itself. As C. S. Lewis wrote, Jesus “was so full of life that when He wished to die He had to ‘borrow death from others.’”
But borrow it He did, taking it unto Himself, yielding up His life, so that you and I might pass through death’s shadow and live forever.
Yes, while I’m alive here on earth, I am called to endure a handicap. But how could I be other than grateful and content? I’m in the best company of all.
One Last Thought: Kneel
Sometimes I will open up the old Book of Common Prayer from the Reformed Episcopal Church I grew up in. At this writing, I was reminded that it will be Epiphany Sunday this weekend. And from the Psalter reading of that day:
They shall fear thee, as long as the sun and moon endureth, from one generation to another.
He shall come down like the rain upon the mown grass, even as the drops that water the earth.
In his time shall the righteousness flourish; yea, and abundance of peace, so long as the moon endureth.
His dominion shall be also from the River unto the world’s end.
It makes me want to … kneel.
In our little Maryland church, people preached the gospel, read from the liturgy, sang hymns from the heart, and they kneeled in prayer before the Lord. Worship was a serious thing, and I learned as a child what it meant to bend the knee before the Lord.
It’s not that I want to make a big thing about kneeling in prayer, per se. It’s just that … I wish I could do it. Being paralyzed in a wheelchair, it’s impossible to literally bend my knees and bow in prayer.
I remember a banquet at a big conference I attended not long ago. I was sitting along with everyone else in a huge ballroom. At the close of the message, the speaker asked everyone to do something unusual: He asked us to push our chairs away from the tables and, if we felt comfortable in doing so, get out of our chairs and kneel on the carpeted floor, together, in prayer.
Well, I sat there in my wheelchair and watched as everyone else in the room, maybe five hundred or six hundred people, got out of their chairs and down on their knees for a brief time of worship. With everyone kneeling in that great banquet hall, I’m afraid I stood out as the only one remaining seated.
Looking around the room, I couldn’t stop the tears.
Oh, I wasn’t crying out of self-pity or because I felt strange or different that I was the only one sitting. My eyes were wet because it was so beautiful to see everyone kneeling in prayer. (Maybe I am making a big deal about kneeling!) It made me think of the day when I, too, will be able to get out of this wheelchair on new, resurrected legs.
I can’t wait for that day, because when I get my glorified body, the first thing I’m going to do with my new made-for-eternity legs is to fall down on grateful, glorified knees. I will once again have the chance to say with Psalm 95:6: “Come let us bow down in worship, let us kneel before the LORD our Maker.”
If you’ve read any of my previous books, you will know how I have dreamed of the day when I can run, leap, walk, jump, and dance. It will be my privilege: a new body that can move will be my blessing for a job well done on earth. But I think that kneeling very still on bended knees will be my sacrifice of praise. To not move when I will at last be able to move will be one last chance to show the Lord how thankful I really am.
So I will kneel …
… on the bright green turf of heaven’s rolling meadows.
… on an avenue of gold, smooth as glass, clear as an artesian spring, cool as an April breeze, and shot through with fire.
… with saints from all ages, former kings and queens, apostles and martyrs, farmer’s wives and soldiers, and wonderful people through all the years who loved Jesus more than life.
… with mighty angelic beings who knew how to kneel before they knew how to walk—or fly.
It’s been a long time since I’ve actually kneeled in prayer. Those long-ago days at that little Reformed Episcopal Church seem so far away, softened and made more beautiful in the golden haze of memory.
But the day is drawing near, isn’t it? It’s drawing so close to the time when I, and so many others who cannot walk, will be able to kneel. I know it. I can feel it. Heaven is just around the corner.
If you sense His coming is soon, would you please do me a favor? Do what so many of us who are paralyzed or too lame or too old or disabled can’t do. Would you open your Bible to Psalm 95:6, read it aloud, and then do what it says?
I can’t kneel, but if you can, do.
Kneel before the Lord God, your Maker and mine. And while you’re down there, if you feel so inclined, thank Him for being so
good to a paralyzed woman named Joni.
Epilogue
Months have passed since I penned my final word on the previous page, and I cannot let you close this book without an update: I’m holding my breath, hoping I’m not jumping the gun when I say that I’m now enjoying many more good days than bad.
Maybe it’s because I’m sitting differently in my wheelchair … or wearing my corset higher … or maybe looser. Could it be a change in diet? Drinking more fluids? I breathe more deeply and certainly stretch more often. Or perhaps it’s because I’m no longer on that heavy-duty pain medication—you know, the one that has side effects worse than the remedy?
Whatever the reason, I’m waking each morning, blessing God for another day … and closing my eyes at night, grateful that I still have a role to play in Christ’s kingdom. I’ve resumed a somewhat normal travel schedule, and even have strength enough to stay sitting up all day.
I have a feeling it’s because of your prayers—every day my soul seems to vibrate with the repercussions of people’s prayers. I trust that the Lord will enable me to keep moving forward in this wheelchair, and if you’d like to track alongside, I invite you to visit “Joni’s Corner” at JoniAndFriends.org. There you will find the latest updates as well as a bounty of praise reports to our great and awesome God. And as far as moving into the future? For the remainder of the journey, I hold fast to a courageous and invigorating verse in Acts 20:24, and I invite you to do the same.
I consider my life worth nothing to me, if only I may finish the race
and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me—
the task of testifying to the gospel of God’s grace.
Notes
Chapter 1
1 “He Who Began a Good Work in You,” performed by Steve Green, Find Us Faithful, 1988.
Chapter 2
1 Dora Greenwell, “I Am Not Skilled to Understand,” Songs of Salvation, 1873.
2 Luke 18:1.
3 Henry Frost, Miraculous Healing: Why does God heal some and not others? (Grand Rapids, MI: Revell, 1939; Hagerstown, MD: Christian Heritage, 2000), 36. Citations are to the Christian Heritage edition. This and all subsequent excerpts are taken from Miraculous Healing: Why does God heal some and not others? by Henry Frost, published by Christian Focus Publications, Fearn, Ross-shine, Scotland (www. ChristianFocus.com).
4 New King James Version.
5 1 Timothy 5:23.
6 Acts 12:2.
7 Revelation 1:9.
8 Acts 7:59–60.
9 2 Timothy 4:20.
10 Acts 23:11.
11 Philippians 4:12.
12 Frost, 37.
13 Ibid., 37–39.
Chapter 3
1 Adapted from my foreword to Miraculous Healing: Why does God heal some and not others? (Fearn, Ross-shine, Scotland: Christian Focus Publications, 2000).
2 John 6:68–69 NLT.
3 The Living Bible.
4 Frost, 11.
5 Ibid., 12.
6 Ibid., 108.
7 Psalm 103:13–14.
8 Adapted from Joni Eareckson Tada, Pearls of Great Price (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2006), August 28 reading.
9 Richard Mayhue, Divine Healing Today (Chicago: Moody Press, 1983), 52–53.
10 Andrew Wommack, “God Wants You Well,” http://www.awmi.net/extra/article/wants_well (accessed February 24, 2010).
11 Frost, 109–110.
12 Ibid., 70.
13 John 21:22.
14 Frost, 108–109.
15 Ibid., 116.
16 Ibid., 69.
17 Ibid., 13.
18 Matthew 8:2–3.
19 Joni Eareckson Tada and Steve Estes, A Step Further (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1978), 16.
20 Frost, 106–107.
Chapter 4
1 Isaiah 40:13.
2 Edythe Draper, Draper’s Book of Quotations for the Christian World (Weahton, IL: Tyndale House, 1992), 198.
3 Jeremiah 2:13.
4 John Bunyan, The Acceptable Sacrifice: The Excellency of a Broken Heart in The Works of John Bunyan,Volume 1 (Shippensburg, PA: Destiny Image Publishers, 2001), 720.
Chapter 5
1 Psalm 13:2.
2 Hebrews 4:15 MSG.
3 Jeremiah 37:20.
4 2 Corinthians 12:9 MSG.
5 Psalm 89:15–17
6 Author’s translation.
Chapter 6
1 International Standard Bible Encyclopedia, Electronic Database (Seattle: Biblesoft, Inc., 1996, 2003), s.v. “glory.”
2 The New Testament in Modern English
3 1 Peter 5:6.
4 Romans 7:24–25; 8:1.
5 Romans 8:38–39.
Chapter 7
1 Isaiah 7:9.
2 Hosea 6:3 ESV.
3 Romans 15:13 MSG.
4 “Oh Happy Day That Fixed My Choice,” Philip Doddridge, 1755.
Chapter 8
1 Psalms 22:19; 31:2; 38:22; 40:13; 69:17–18; 70:1; 70:5; 71:12; 79:8; 102:2; 141:1; 143:7.
Chapter 9
1 Romans 8:18 PH
2 Hebrews 12:11.
Chapter 10
1 Isaiah 6:9–10.
2 Isaiah 20:1–4.
3 Philippians 4:10, 11–13 MSG.
4 Philippians 4:10, 11–13 MSG.
5 Job 13:15.
6 Adapted from Tada, Pearls of Great Price, October 16 reading.
Resources
For a complete list of other books written by Joni Eareckson Tada or for more information about her greeting cards, which she paints by mouth, contact the website of the Joni and Friends International Disability Center at:
www.joniandfriends.org
Or you can write Joni at:
Joni and Friends International Disability Center
P.O. Box 3333
Agoura Hills, CA 91376 USA
818-707-5664
The mission of Joni and Friends is to communicate the gospel and equip Christ-honoring churches worldwide to evangelize and disciple people affected by disability. Premiere programs include Wheels for the World, Family Retreats, the Joni and Friends television series, and a radio outreach aired on over one thousand outlets across America. The Christian Institute on Disability at Joni and Friends partners with Christian universities and seminaries around the world to develop courses of study in disability ministry. Through a network of volunteers and JAF field teams, Joni and Friends is committed to accelerating Christian ministry into the disability community around the world. If you would like to learn how you can partner in this effort, write Joni and Friends today.
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