There is a good chance that I have never been so overwhelmed with blessing than this morning. I can scarcely begin to think about it without feeling tears well up in my ears.
Last week I was asked to share a testimony at church. I didn't feel compelled to share a typical personal testimony. I shared this story of me and my father I had written about before.
Japanese is very difficult to translate, so we had to be well prepared with our testimonies and keep them simple. The spaces were to remind me to allow time for translation.
Good morning! I want to tell you about how God has been faithful in showing patience, forgiveness and mercy to my family.
A handicap is something that hinders or impedes. We often think of it as something that is noticeable and sets a person different from others.
One time I experienced a handicap like that. I had a reoccurring foot injury that left me unable to walk.
I spent one afternoon in a wheelchair in an art museum in New York and learned a lot about that experience of being in a wheelchair.
I noticed that most people looked at me and then immediately at my legs to see what was wrong with them.
I don't know if I looked sad, but I had several attendants come up to me to try to "lift my spirits". Perhaps they felt sorry for the girl in the wheelchair.
The truth is that we all have handicaps. The only difference about being in a wheelchair is that the handicap is noticeable. Most of us get to hide our handicaps from view.
If you could see each of our handicaps as obvious as my wheelchair, you would see people struggling with addiction. I could see stress you experience of not being able to get a job.
Maybe you're thinking about suicide. Perhaps you can see someone dying from cancer. Maybe you notice a girl who was abused when she was a child and she suffers to find healing.
I could know clearly that you have an eating disorder or that you hate yourself.
If these handicaps were in plain sight for all to see, people would do one of two things,
look at what is wrong with you and make a judgment about who you are. Or they notice your handicap, show compassion and offer help.
But there’s a good chance you didn’t want either of the types of attention. That’s why we keep our handicaps a secret.
I remember feeling like people expected or even wanted me to be sad in my wheelchair. Is that really how it has to be with a handicap?
My dad is currently living life in a wheelchair. Two years ago he had a massive stroke.
He lost his job, he lost his ability to speak, he lost his ability to think clearly, he lost his ability to walk and to use his arm.
But God in His great mercy spared a man who wasn't experiencing the fullness of Christ and allowed him to become intimate with His Son through a painful loss on earth.
And now all of his handicaps had been laid out in front of the world and his family to see while in his wheelchair.
A year ago he said something I prayed for years to happen. He said, "It’s better now in my wheelchair."
Things that were once in the darkness were brought into the light. He’s now finding healing, restoration and redemption right in the wheelchair.
And God's faithfulness continues to be great in the midst of all of our handicaps.
Job 33:28 says:
He redeemed my soul from going down to the pit, and I will live to enjoy the light.'
This morning after our morning of firsts (which I will post a blog about soon), a little girl came and sat down right next to me. She was so excited to see me. I don't know when I've seen so much joy on a face. I held her hand and responded with the same level of enthusiasm. Her name was Nana and she was 15 years old. I brought out my traveling ukulele with all the signatures from around the world for her to sign and I played her a song. I prayed for her upcoming high school exam for next month. And still, the joy she gave me could not be contained or explained.
Her mom asked if they could lay hands on me and pray for me. She said, "Last week you talked about disabilities. Nana has a disability." Yes, I knew of course. Nana had down syndrome. And as Nana lay her hands on me and prayed in Japanese for my life, I wept. My Sensei, Sherata told me later that Nana loved hearing a new perspective on disabilities and wanted to meet me.
In one quick moment, Nana's joy and pure heart pierced mine. And God's faithfulness continues to be great in the midst of all our handicaps right here in Japan.
