I used to spend hour after hour as
kid pouring over Christian biographies:
Billy Graham, Corrie ten Boom, D. L. Moody, and Elizabeth Elliot. I turned each page with curiosity, wondering
what made these people so great and so mightily used of God. I savored each book, taking careful notes,
until I read the story of Joni, a woman who broke her neck as the result of a
diving accident and is now a quadriplegic.
Her story was both griping and violent.
In her conclusion, she told of the peace she had found in the midst of
living with her paralysis. The end pages
of her memoir advertised her international ministry to people with
disabilities. I threw the book under my
bed and weeks later threw it out into the trash. Joni was content to live in her body; as a 12
year old living with cerebral palsy, I was not.
So when I really felt the call of
God on my life 17 years later to minister to individuals and families who have
been impacted by disability, I had one reaction: hysterical sobbing. Sitting in the back of a retreat center in
Alexandria, I cried so hard that a stranger came up and asked if she could hold
me while I wept. I croaked out a yes and
suddenly felt my body being wrapped in her embrace.
Over the past six months, I have
been learning that engaging in disability ministry means many different things. Sometimes it means wiping drool off a
friend’s face, or learning how to politely exit the room for a moment so they
can be assisted in the bathroom or have a tube connected so they can eat a meal. Sometimes it involves having honest
conversations with people about painful topics like deformity and
exclusion. Sometimes it looks like witnessing parents weep. Disability
ministry is a challenging and unique calling which is transforming my relationship
with others and deepening my walk with God.
I’m learning that people who suffer in this way are close to God's
heart, and they are becoming closer to mine.
I’m also learning these things:
·
This
is about beholding beauty. When a person has a disability,
the task of truly perceiving their beauty can become more challenging, but at
the same time even more compelling. Physical disability, I’ve found, is
often perceived in sharp and unexpected contrast to what people expect a body
to look like, but even initial shock or a subtle startle can provide the extra
motivation necessary to enter into a deeper realm, one that carefully peers
into the human soul.
·
The
“big things” God is calling you to do may actually look small in the eyes of
the world,
but that doesn’t mean they’re insignificant.
Ministering to people with disabilities is largely work that goes unseen
but there is something wonderful about the pattern of feeling the gentle nudge
of God, responding in obedience, and watching Him bless the work of your hands.
·
Envy
is not helpful. It’s tempting to look at the work others are
doing and wish your ministry looked similar.
There are times when I have wished that what I was called to was more
mainstream, popular, or even simply more understood. I’m learning to appreciate God’s grand design
for us to work together as a body; not focused on how we measure up to each
other, but rather maintaining our focus on God, so like Jesus, “We can do what
we see the Father doing.”
What
do you wrestle with when you consider your calling?
This is absolutely beautiful. Thank you for challenging and encouraging me in my own journey of disability ministry. Could I share this on my blog?
ReplyDeleteYes! Of course you can share this on your blog! Thanks for the shout out Claire!
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