Your soul is not as delicate as you think. The nipping frost of trials are needed if you are to grow in Christ.
SHAUNA: Hi, I’m Shauna on Joni Eareckson Tada: Sharing Hope. And Joni, I just know that you and Ken have a real passion for the outdoors.
JONI: Absolutely. You know, it started when I was young. When I was a teenager and still on my feet, I remember taking a two-week backpacking trip on horseback with my family. My uncle Ted was our guide. He owned the Two Bars Seven Ranch just west of Virginia Dale, Colorado. He led us on horseback through the Rawah Wilderness of the Rocky Mountains, north of Estes Park. We ambled by rivers, got off our horses, let them graze in high-altitude meadows carpeted with these beautiful mountain wildflowers. I was amazed that these delicate little wispy flowers not only survived but thrived in the icy-cold wind and harsh weather. They were stunning, but they were hardy little flowers. And it is, indeed, as someone said, ‘The nipping frosts of trials are needed if God's flowers are to grow.’ And what is true for mountain wildflowers certainly is true for you and me!
Because how could I have known that just a year or so after that trip to Uncle Ted’s ranch, I would experience a different trip. A trip in an ambulance to the emergency room after I had broken my neck. The doctors weren’t sure what to do with someone completely paralyzed, yet so young. And so, after three months in acute care at the hospital, I was sent to a rehab center. But to be honest it was only a state institution. It was a warehouse for elderly and disabled people like me who required a lot of care. And that was a long and rugged season. But what I didn’t yet realize was my soul was a lot more rugged. And it was sturdier than I thought. After many ups and downs and lots of doubts, I would do more than survive a broken neck. By God’s grace and his goodness, I would eventually thrive.
Many decades later, when I was rendering oil paintings [you know], holding brushes between my teeth, I recalled with a smile, that high mountain meadow that we had ambled upon filled with flowers of every color. Those were sturdy little flowers. They were with deep roots in that cold, harsh climate. And I remember marveling how they survived. Looking back, I knew I had survived. And I felt like that sturdy little flower. With my roots sunk deep into the word of God.
And so, that Alpine scene became the inspiration behind a mixed-media painting that I call Higher Ground. My brushstrokes created an illusion of snow. And with four or five sweeps of my big, wet watercolor brush, I painted a stream of rain falling from storm clouds. Up above timberline in rarefied air, I painted a spray of tiny mountain flowers struggling to hold on to the tundra. An array of little colorful blooms fighting to survive amongst craggy peaks and a mountain storm. And while doing that painting, I powered my wheelchair back from the easel and I stared at it and I looked at it long and hard. Because often, I still feel like those flowers, buffeted and nearly flattened by the hardships and the adverse climate of what it means to live with a disability. But, like mountain flowers, my soul is not as delicate as I like to think. The nipping frost of trials are needed if I am to grow. And if you are to grow in Christ, as well.
For more inspiration, I’ve posted this video that shows this painting. And in it, I share more insights on exactly how I managed to render it holding brushes between my teeth. And I share more heartwarming lessons from those sturdy little flowers in that mountain meadow.
SHAUNA: Oh, thank you Joni. And friend, you can come see it all at joniradio.org. You’ll be inspired. And, hey, share the video with your friends who need a lift. It’s right there for you to watch at joniradio.org.
© Joni and Friends