Then I Am Strong

When I was in junior high and high school, my family and I attended a small charasmatic, non-demoninational church in which the pastor is a C-5 quadriplegic.  Mr. Johnson has some control over his arms and his neck, but the rest of his body is paralyzed.  He can't sweat, and hands form tight fists.  He sustained the injury through a diving accident when he was 21, and later that day, He came to know God.  Since then, he has been an active minister, and has affected my life greatly.  He says, "It's about the kids.  But it's really about anyone else we can help, too."  For years, I watched guest ministers and people of the church pray for Mr. Johnson's physical healing -- I, too, have prayed.  I could never imagine condemning this man, the church, of myself for having a lack of faith, rather, I've come to understand that through being physically "disabled", this man is in a position to help others in a way that I cannot.  I believe the same is true for the mentally disabled as well.
  I love how the author of this text talks about "life force", and a "mark" whih God puts on His creation.  This essay ties in so incredibly with other things I have been reading and listening to.  The other day my music theory professor talked about God breathing into Adam the breath of life, and how we've been passing that breath on ever since.  We're not breathing our own breath, in a sense -- it's God's breath.  This "life force" is in all of us in a unique way, enabling us to love and be loved.  The "mark" reminds me of an article I read on Monday, entitled Imprint: the Thumbprint on the Clay.The author relates being made in the image of God to a potters signature: a thumbprint.  God's way of saying, you were uniquely designed for my purpose.  What an exciting, invigorating thought.
  This essay by Dr. Fettke also makes me think of what it means to be "disabled", and the kinds of things we pray to be healed from.  I've watched videos of five to nine year olds play the Haydn concerto I'm considering learning over the summer.  Compared to them, I'm pretty disabled.  But not compared to most people.  It's all so very relative.  We pray to be healed from major infirmities like cancer, traumatic injuries, and "disability" -- paralyzation, mental retardation, brain injuries, syndromes, etc.  But aren't all "normal" people still physically and mentally flawed?  Don't they have grey hair and pimples and digestive problems and asthma and ingrown toenails?  Don't we have trouble remembering where we put our phone, don't we get nervous and speak in jumbled sentences, don't we lock ourselves out of the house?  I suppose we pray to be healed from those things too, sometimes, but do we measure our faith accordingly?  Not really.  Those are just normal problems for normal people, right?  What children we are. 

"It seems that many in the Pentecostal church have embraced this modern sense of autonomy in the notion of 'getting what one can' from God or attending church 'as long as I am satisfied or happy' with little regard for any others."  It's hard for me to think for very long about the current "modern" behavior of the Pentacostal church which Dr. Fettke describes.  My stomach feels like it's sinking and my fingertips hurt (for some reason).  But I will for just a little bit.
  This, I think, is an almost Santa-Clause view of God.  If you're good, you get presents: health, financial prosperity, happiness, etc.  There is little focus on the bloody, messy side of life that God calls us to as well.  When Paul was in prison, he didn't say, "I'm going to speak these chains away!", (do I catch a dangerous drift of transcendentalism?) he said, "I've learned to be content in all circumstances."  I'm not saying, by any means, that the mentally disabled are in a prison -- other than the one we've made for them -- but to contrast the views, "What can God do for me", and "How may I serve Him?"  We should encourage all people to ask the latter.  Each person is in a position that is right for them to be able to minister.
   Almost each time my neice visits, my mother reads to her a story by Max Lucado, and I usually listen, too.  It's about a lamb who is spotted and crippled, and when the other sheep move to a new pasture, the shepherds tell him to stay behind because he moves too slowly.  At the end of the story, the lamb stumbles upon the manger scene and gets to curl up beside baby Jesus and keep Him warm.  The very thing that made him crippled allowed him to serve his greatest purpose. 
  I like the verse, "I delight in weakness, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties.  For when I am weak, then I am strong."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3geejD5Dksk