Give Praise... For Whatever

Give Praise…. For Whatever
 

So, I volunteered at a mission in Apple Valley called Jubilee.  The community churches come together to serve God’s people by providing practical needs.  I was volunteering in the balloon tent where we made animal shapes for the kids who are forever waiting in line.  Before anything started, a man – mid-60’s, kind eyes, bold posture – and a woman – young, blonde, pretty, gentle – came walking up to me.  By the way, any physical description is a bonus because when I saw them, all I really noticed were their yellow t-shirts that read “Jesus Heals”.  As our eyes met, my throat dried up and my smile waned as I’ve been down this path before.  I knew what was coming.  The man beelines it to me and says, brashly, with a hint of a smile “What’s wrong with you?”…. I was in the middle of a conversation with a friend and really didn’t want to acknowledge him.  He stands, arms crossed, waiting for my response.  He towers over me, too.  It’s completely intimidating.  So, I respond, “Do you mean because I’m in a wheelchair?”  I break off with a quick, nervous giggle and he seriously says, “Yeah.”  Okay…. No beating around any bush.  So, I name it.  “I’m paralyzed.”  I attempted to go back to my friend, who still stood there awkwardly not knowing if she should stay or go, but the gentleman was NOT going to leave.  Our conversation begins to fly as he continues, “What happened?”  I respond, “Car accident when I was 16.”  He bends down, holds my chair, and is inches from my face.  My friend walks away.  He’s taken over.  He continues, “Do you know how much power there is in words? You should NEVER say ‘you’re paralyzed’. That just gives the devil a foothold.  The more you say it, the more you believe it.  What happens to a child when you say “you’re stupid”?  He begins to believe it, right?  In the same sense, you should never say ‘I’m paralyzed’.”  

I’m already tired.  There is so much wrong with what he just said, I really am not sure where to begin so I, tiredly, plunge to reality.  “Sir, it’s not meant to be derogatory.  It was meant to describe my condition.  Just like if you were to say you had brown hair.  Not negative.  Just is.”  He said, “But do you see what I’m trying to say?  You need to stop using those words and start using positive ones.”  Wow.  Why do I have to deal with this?  I don’t want to.  Please stop telling me my faults.  I’m very aware of my shortcomings and I’m here to bless little children and spread some smiles.

 I’m also thinking… who gets to decide which words are negative and which are positive.  I understand why stupid and whiny and gossip are all negative b/c they are derogatory… but paralyzed??  True, no one WANTS to be paralyzed, yet it simply is a word describing my physical being…. Not meant to demean me in any way.  I know others describe me like this as well…. “you know the gal in the wheelchair?”.  “Oh. Yeah. Her.”  I get it.  It’s descriptive.  Right to the point.  I don’t get offended or take it negatively.  So, as he’s lecturing me on words, I’m starting to get quite perturbed.  Because of his boldness, I’m thinking the only way I can end this is to relent. I give up.  I want this whole thing to stop and go away.  I say “I get it.  I understand what you are saying.”  He asks if he can pray for healing and I say “absolutely.”  (Always, Lord, let me be humble enough to accept prayer for healing, even though it sometimes hurts.)  He prays and the pretty blonde joins with the laying of hands.  It’s touching.  Really.  As mad as I was 2 minutes ago, I’m slapped with the beauty of prayer and how powerful it is – the way it connects humans to humans and humans to God, the way it humbles one’s heart sitting before His throne… asking… begging. 

He finishes his prayer and says, “Do you feel anything?”  I want SO badly to say “Yes!”  But I can’t.  So I shake my head “no”.  And he continues his monologue on how I shouldn’t be afraid to praise God for whatever I feel in my lower extremities.  To, moment by moment, change my thinking to positive thoughts.  To acknowledge and be aware of God’s working in my body.  I listen and I promise to do so and I mean it.  He explains that he will continue to pray for me and that he has seen miraculous things in this day, with our world.  God is still working.  I believe him.  I had never doubted that.  His last words were what struck most, “So, tonight, as you’re lying in bed and if you feel something, even if it’s not complete healing, praise God for it.  Whatever it is.”  

Bong!!  (Not a “bing”.  This is a big ole’ jarring HELLO.)  THIS is what I should have been doing all along!!  Praise God for it… whatever it is.  We hear this all of the time in our little Christian circles.  We struggle with the “whatever” because so often it is hurtful, painful, isolating, unresolved.  But to realize the “whatever” could take the absolute smallest form of any situation… and to give praise for that!  Beautiful!  We don’t have to have a complete healing.  We might give praise for a single tingle in a numb limb.  We might give praise for the whistle of a bird, or the laugh of a child, or the warmth of a hug.  Not big healings, but great moments of hope.  Moments that spur joy and a washing of inclusiveness.  I’m part of something bigger.  Oh, Lord, let me always give thanks for whatever it is.

 So, then I go back to the Lord, after this glorious revelation and ask…. Really??  Does it really have to take these in-your-face personalities who get SO much wrong to finally strike a chord within my thick, stubborn brain?!?  (I really do ask these kinds of questions.) And God says, “Um, yes, actually.  Sometimes, it does.”  Gulp.  I do not want to be like this!!  I want to hear and taste and see!  I want to praise God for all things.  Maybe it was the look on my face that made this gentleman ask what was wrong with me.  Maybe it was the way I was acting.   I really don’t know, and I don’t agree with his brashness or his approach but I do know his heart meant “care”.  Whatever the venue, God spoke to me through him.  I am that stubborn.  I should not be shocked. 

So, I mulled this over and over in the coming weeks, praising God for every inkling of tingling which carried over to every task I am able to do.  I hate dishes, but to be able to do them… Praise.  I hate early mornings, but to be able to get up, to have a fresh day, to watch the sun rise…. Praise.    I hate exercising, but to be able to have strength to move and sweat…. Praise.  And then…. In God’s greatness, to gift me the ability to be able to do the things I love!! …. Encouraging others, making a meal, listening to my children’s day, sending cards to Grandma, taxiing to activities…. Aaaaahhhhh…. Praise!  We are so blessed with so many little things.  And we are part of something bigger.  Lord, let us see, absorb, and praise….. whatever it is.