The gift of disability wasn’t on my Christmas list. But in early October, when I tripped and broke the fifth metatarsal on my right foot, I discovered God had moved temporary disability to the top of His list for me. The gift included 1 set of crutches, 1 wheelchair, 1 walker, 1 surgery, 1 pin, 2 boots, 4 x-rays, 6 doctor appointments, 8 weeks of bearing no weight on the injured foot followed by 4 weeks of partial weight-bearing, and 12 weeks of being unable to drive.
I reluctantly unwrapped this gift of disability during the 3 excruciatingly slow months it took for my 61-year-old bone to heal. Perhaps God orchestrated this slow march to wellness because He knew it would take that long to teach these ten hidden lessons He tucked in with the gift.
10. Most handicapped bathrooms aren’t fully accessible. Doors are often too heavy to open and impossible to shut, stalls aren’t big enough, grab bars are too far away, sinks and soap can’t be reached, and hand dryers can only be accessed by wheeling to them wet-handed.
9. Strangers can be surprisingly kind. I’ve lost count of the number of people who have held open doors, shut bathroom stalls, braked so I could cross the street, and asked what else they could do. The really good news is that many of the Good Samaritans were young people. As in teenagers or young kids.
8. Online retailers make shopping accessible to people with many disabilities. Christmas shopping would have been a bust without online shopping. During our 2 forays into stores, husband and I discovered that Christmas displays and extra merchandise make many aisles inaccessible for people in wheelchairs. Thanks to free shipping at many online sites, our loved ones found our gifts under their Christmas trees on December 25.
7. My father exhibited astounding grace and dignity during his 38 years in a wheelchair. Each time an obstacle made my temporary disability difficult, I thought of how my father handled his nearly 4 decade battle with multiple sclerosis. When tempted to self-pity or complaint, I chose–with occasional lapses–to honor his example by focusing on what I could do instead of what I couldn’t. Thank you, Dad.
6. Children have worries, too. We have 3 grandchildren who voiced their worries during my weeks of healing. “Why didn’t the doctor kiss your foot and make it all better?” one asked. “Will you ever walk again?” asked another. “Does your foot hurt inside the boot?” wondered the third. Remembering how I concealed my young worries about Dad’s illness and grateful that these children voiced their fears, I answered their questions completely, invited them to assist in putting on my boot, and took them for wheelchair rides.
5. God provides assurance when we need it most. The few days after learning that my foot wasn’t healing and surgery would be required, news came that a new contract 8 months in the making was a go. Not just any book contract, but the opportunity to co-author a book with Dr. Gary Chapman about how families of kids with special needs can use the 5 love language to strengthen their relationships. Though God could have sealed the deal any time during the past 8 months, He chose to do it the week when I needed assurance of His plans for me to write again.
4. Other people don’t see the world as those with disabilities do. God knows exactly what people with disabilities need at any given time, but other people don’t. They don’t know what we can do on our own and how important it is to preserve our independence by allowing us to do those so. And they don’t know what our world is like–that a chair pushed back from the table and toys left on the floor create obstacles, that carrying an uncapped hot drink is impossible, where a person needs to stand to help negotiate stairs, and so on. Therefore, we have to ask for help only when its needed, and we must explain the simple things they can do to make life less complicated.
3. Slow down. I love planners, to do lists, efficiency, and multi-tasking. But the gift of disability forced me to shelve the planner for several days after surgery, shorten my to do lists, accept inefficiency, and redefine multi-tasking into things like wheeling a chair to the kitchen with a grandchild on my lap. In the process, Slowing down eventually led to redefined priorities and gratitude for even the smallest accomplishments.
2. Let go. As I slowed down and redefined priorities, I learned to let go of certain habits and desires. Counter clutter, a prettily set table, Christmas presents, neatly wrapped and under the tree early, control of the calendar, and much more went by the wayside this fall. And yet, as I discovered, life is still good.
1. God waits to heal the body until He’s healed our hearts. The bone in my foot is healing more slowly than the doctors expected. As one discouraging x-ray followed another, I sensed the Great Physician had more in His prescription for healing than filling the gaps in my foot with new bone. He wanted to fill the gaps in my heart with greater knowledge of Him, greater love for His Son, and greater trust in His plans.
This gift of disability, which was not on my Christmas list, becomes more precious as 1 set of crutches, 1 wheelchair, 1 walker, 1 surgery, 1 pin, 2 boots, 4 x-rays, 6 doctor appointments, 8 weeks of bearing no weight on the injured foot followed by 4 weeks of partial weight-bearing, and 12 weeks of being unable to drive later, this 1 woman is eternally grateful for 10 lessons that showed how high and complete are God’s ways compared to the ways of men.
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