August 26th

The Power of Injury

             When that period was over, I, Nebuchadnezzar, lifted my eyes to heaven, and my reason returned to me.

I blessed the Most High, and praised and honored the one who lives forever. For his sovereignty is an everlasting sovereignty, and his kingdom endures from generation to generation.  All the inhabitants of the earth are accounted as nothing, and he does what he wills with the host of heaven and the inhabitants of the earth. There is no one who can stay his hand or say to him, “What are you doing?”

                At that time my reason returned to me; and my majesty and splendor were restored to me for the glory of my kingdom. My counselors and my lords sought me out, I was re-established over my kingdom, and still more greatness was added to me. Now I, Nebuchadnezzar, praise and extol and honor the King of heaven, for all his works are truth, and his ways are justice; and he is able to bring low those who walk in pride.

Daniel 4:34-37

           

            I’ve said over and over again that disabilities and mental illnesses are not punishments from God.  They are not curses or indictments on a person or their character.  This, however, is not to say that God cannot use disability to transform a person and bring them closer to Jesus.

            Nebuchadnezzar was the king over all he surveyed and his empire stretched for days and days and days in every direction.  At the height of his arrogance, God struck him with madness and sent him out into the wilderness to live like one of the beasts.  When he came to his senses, Nebuchadnezzar realized that the height of mankind’s power and authority did not compare to the power and majesty and authority of the King of Kings and Lord of Lords.  Nebuchadnezzar saw that his power was a temporary and fragile thing and that the Creator of All was the only one worthy of praise and worship.  The King of Babylon was left in awe of the King of Heaven as Nebuchadnezzar saw, for the first time, what true power was.

            It is easy to believe that we are more than we really are.  It is easy to believe that we have more strength, more power, more authority, more brilliant ideas and more wisdom than others.  It is easy to think that we are…if not invincible, then indispensable to God’s work here on earth.  It is easy to think that we have pulled ourselves up out of the mud by our own bootstraps…that we have not received anything from anyone and owe all of our success to hard work, natural skill and rugged determination.  It is easy to think that we could face any problem, any obstacle at all and conquer it with ease.

            And then we slip and hurt our back or twist our knee or have bad sushi and we are laid out like the weakest invalid imaginable.  It is incredible how much pain can be caused when the bones of your spine are misaligned by fractions of inches.  Walking, sitting, standing, using the bathroom are all unique kinds of torture just because there is a tiny nerve that is having a tiny amount of pressure applied to it in unusual ways.

            I had a revelation the last time I was injured.  It was nothing major, just a pulled tendon in my foot.  But it made every step a limp and slowed me down in everything that involved standing or walking.  What I realized was that I will sometimes become impatient with my son.  Why can’t he just control his anxiety or his volume or all the twitching that he does?  If I were him, I would not let me body control my life…

            Except when I have something significantly less serious and less permanent than autism, like a foot with an ouchy, it dominates my thoughts and my life and completely changes my outlook on what I can accomplish in the day and what my mood will be.  My son does not just have a nerve that has a little bit more pressure on it; his entire nervous system is rebelling against the stimuli surrounding him.  Maybe I am not so tough.  Maybe I just have not had to go through the daily struggle that he faces every morning.  Maybe I can be more patient and work with him to find coping strategies that work for all of us.

            God did not curse me with a bad foot…but He did use that injury to speak a word that brought me closer to Him and closer to my son.  That is worth the price of a few days of limping around.

A moment to reflect:

The next time you are sick or injured, ask God what He wants to say in the midst of your infirmity.