It was a bright sunny day and the high school track was jammed packed with people like me in wheelchairs – we were all there, wheeling lap after lap to help raise funds for a local disability ministry. I was in my power wheelchair – I had charged my batteries the night before and I was in high gear. I had lots of sponsors behind me and my wheelchair was on high-speed. Anyone could tell I was intent on winning the wheel-a-thon.
On my first lap I whizzed right by Jack Fisher in his wheelchair. Unlike me and lots of others that day, Jack was not in a power wheelchair – he had a little bit more mobility than the usual quadriplegic, and so he decided to use a push wheelchair. It meant going much slower – Jack's arm muscles weren't that strong; in fact, he progressed around the track at a snail's pace. On the second time I lapped him, I had to wonder why he hadn't chosen to use his power wheelchair. He would've been much faster. He would've raised a lot more for the wheel-a-thon.
On the third time as I approached Jack, I slowed down a bit and pulled up alongside him... he looked tired, hot, and sweaty, and he was throwing his entire weight onto the wheels of his chair, only moving forward a few inches at a time. He looked up and smiled, though – he wasn't about to quit! I felt badly and so I asked if he wanted to hold on to my wheelchair handle – that way he could hitchhike and get around the track a lot faster. "Nah," he said, "I'm fine. I'll get there." What he meant was, he'd be happy to make one lap.
Almost an hour had passed before Jack finally rounded the last turn of the track. By this time, the crowd in the grandstand was well aware of this young man's valiant effort. As he painfully inched toward the finish line, everybody – including me and my other friends in wheelchairs – began cheering wildly. Jack was obviously exhausted, but he somehow managed to finish his lap, his only lap of the day. Maybe he didn't raise that much for the wheel-a-thon, but that day he certainly raised the bar for the rest of us with disabilities. Actually, he raised the hearts and the hopes of everyone who watched his courage from the sidelines. And to this day we all remember the day when Jack gave it his all.
Like the story of the widow who gave out of her poverty, the story in Mark 12, we are reminded that sacrificial giving – that is, giving when it hurts, when it costs you something – giving like that can't help but inspire and encourage all who look on. Better yet, it gains the attention and of the pleasure of the most high God. So don't give up. Hang in there – the finish line is only a short distance away and a cloud of witnesses in Heaven's grandstand are cheering you on. Give it your all, friend – for as you do, you'll be raising the bar for the rest of us.
Used by permission of
JONI AND FRIENDS
P.O. Box 3333
Agoura Hills, CA 93176
© Joni and Friends