Hi, I’m Joni Eareckson Tada with a poignant memory to share.
My mother and I and a friend were staying in a borrowed mountain cabin in North Carolina – this was years ago. Outside, the air was cold, gray and damp. The air around our fireplace, however, was bright and warm from the burning logs, as well as from the smiles of our friends visiting up from Asheville, North Carolina. Bruce, a spinal cord- injured quadriplegic, sat straight and handsome in his wheelchair. I would never have guessed that a few days before, his wife had moved out, or that he was facing tremendous legal and financial problems, as well as the normal baggage of adjustments for any new quadriplegic — before the accident in which he broke his neck, Bruce had been a successful dentist. With no use of his hands, he had lost his career.
“This stuff isn’t easy,” he sighed—and he was right. So we compared notes on how to adjust and how to move forward when your feet and hands don’t work and you must sit in a wheelchair for the rest of your life. It was a heart-wrenching conversation, and while Bruce and I talked, I glanced over at my 84-year-old mother – she kept nodding in agreement with this “knowing” expression. I knew she was a battle-scarred veteran who had experienced much pain and loss in her day. At the end of the visit, after we had “talked shop” and taken photos, after we huddled closer to the fire to pray, finally my mother spoke up the first time. Actually, she didn’t speak as much as offer the following song. Softly she began singing: “I do not know, why oft around me, my hopes all shattered seem to be; God's perfect plan I cannot see, but someday, I'll understand: Someday he'll make it plain to me, someday when I his face shall see. Someday from tears I shall be free, for someday I shall understand.” Her voice may have sounded cracked and off-key, but as we listened, Bruce and I felt our hearts enlarge with the comfort she was offering. It was a 2 Corinthians chapter 1, verse 3, moment: “Praise be to God who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God.”
This moment I’ve described was many years ago; back in the 90’s, but I remember it as though it was yesterday. My mother was not a seminary graduate or a Bible scholar, but she offered what comfort she could, in the form of a beautiful hymn that I remember her singing by my hospital bedside when I first broke my neck.
I often look back on that day and think of the unique way my mother gave glory to God through her song. God’s glory is the radiance of His attributes that break forth in visible ways around us. That day by the fire, my mother was God’s mirror – glorifying Him and reflecting the light of His comfort deep into our hearts. Friend, think of ways that, today, you can radiate the attributes of our wonderful Savior; showing forbearance when you are misunderstood; reflecting kindness to someone in need; demonstrating long-suffering with a family member who irritates; exhibiting patience in a tough trial; and giving love in an unlovely situation with unlovely people. For when you do, these supernatural qualities will radiate the Lord and bring the Father glory. And I know one more way you can showcase the attributes of Jesus: give my Gospel tracts to people who don’t know Christ. Write me today at joniandfriends.org and ask for your three Gospel tracts – then, pass on the comfort from “Joni and Friends” where we’ve been bringing the Gospel to people with disabilities like Bruce for 35 years!
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PO Box 3333 Agoura Hills, CA 91376