Whether your disability came on suddenly, as with an accident, crept up slowly with the ravages of a progressive disease, or was just the normal but unkind stages of age, the transition from being a giver of ministry to a recipient of the ministries of others is a difficult bridge to cross.

My own thorn in the flesh has been the progressive type. About ten years ago, I started to develop joint pain - first in my knees, then my fingers, and then my shoulders. Doctors dismissed my pain as repetitive strain injuries and sent me to physiotherapists. Over the next few years I experienced a frustrating cascade of chronic pain: physiotherapy for my knees made my feet hurt, switching to doing chair aerobics to save my feet and knees made my shoulders hurt. Surgery to repair cartilage damage to my left knee resulted in a virtual shutdown of almost all of my abilities. I had to walk with a cane, but that was hard on my right hand and shoulder. I was working as a school librarian but I could no longer hold a book or turn the pages, and I definitely could not put a book back on a shelf. I realized at the age of 35 that I could no longer work.

Making the transition from being a healthy, physically fit adult who was able and willing to serve wherever I noticed a need to being a mom who couldn’t use a knife and fork to cut my own food, never mind cooking and cleaning for my family, has been not only a battle against the physical disabilities, but also a crisis of identity. Who am I if not a teacher, a librarian, a mom who can take care of her own children? Who am I in Christ if I can’t work in the church library, give rides to elderly people, or serve in the nursery? Depression set in as I began to think of myself as just a burden on my family and friends.

I recall a conversation with my pastor about accepting help from others in the church. He reminded me of how good it felt for me to help others, and informed me that I was withholding this blessing from others whenever I turned down their offers to help me. That got me thinking in a new direction. I apologized to a friend in our small group who had offered to organize meals for my family. I had told her at the time that I was looking for permanent solutions for my problems, and that I would feel guilty about other women making a commitment to make meals for my family on a regular basis. She confessed that she had felt offended when I turned down her offer. I had hired a cleaning lady who charged more per hour than my husband was earning because I would feel guilty having women from the church having to make a commitment to come over and clean my house on a regular basis. The only thing I didn’t feel guilty about was nagging my husband about spending more time at home and helping me. This situation could have had disastrous consequences if God had not given my husband the grace to change jobs and spend more time at home.

I remember the joy I felt when I was able to climb three flights of stairs at school when a friend who had just had hip replacement surgery needed help to deliver a term paper to a professor. I humbly remembered that I had promised myself that I would never complain about all those stairs any more because I was capable of climbing them without pain. I recall befriending an elderly woman from church by giving her rides to church. She couldn’t seem to thank me enough for this favor, but I didn’t feel at all burdened - her house was right on my way.

I would love to tell you that I have successfully made this transition and am now able to accept help gracefully from others when offered, and even that I have stopped feeling guilty whenever I have to ask for help. I wish I could tell you that it doesn’t bother me any more at family gatherings to sit in the living room with the men while the other women work in the kitchen. And it would be incredible if I could tell you that I have mastered the art of spiritual warfare - truly believing that prayer is the most important work of the Christian, and not the last resort or just the only thing that a Christian with a disability is capable of while the other Christians are off doing ministry.

I would also love to tell you that I will write again once I have completely accepted the fact that I have Parkinson’s disease and am perfectly content with staying home and writing little stories, but you know that that letter would have to be emailed from Heaven - and by that time I will have a strong and healthy new body anyway.

If you would like to read more of my little stories, please visit me at www.triond.com/users/Karen+Gross. I would love to receive your comments as well.

God bless you - now don’t forget that no matter how dysfunctional your body, you can still pray, and that is the most eternally significant ministry of all!

Karen Gross

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