What’s the hardest thing you’ve had to do?
Have you ever wished you could gracefully get out of a situation? That’s how I felt when I arrived at my last speaking engagement.
The small church invited me to their men’s group, the sort of experience I usually anticipate and enjoy. I love the opportunity to connect and share in an intimate setting.
But that night I wanted to escape. The elevator was broken; ten imposing steps stood between me and the meeting room.
The man who invited me apologized profusely. He’d contacted me earlier to explain the situation and offer the opportunity to re-schedule. I replied that if they were willing to help me, we’d go ahead as planned.
Now, facing those ten steps, I regretted my false bravado.
I hate being carried; I especially hate being carried in public by strangers. I can’t adequately describe the horrible feeling of helplessness that arises when I’m hauled like a piece of baggage.
People stare—I know they’re only concerned for my welfare, that they don’t mean to be rude. And the guys carrying me—why do they get to be strong and helpful? Why do I have to experience this degrading dependence?
But it was too late now, so I leaned back and allowed four strangers to lift what felt like a useless, lifeless body up those ten steps.
As I tried to calm my heart and prepare for my presentation, I thought about this incident in Jesus’ early ministry.
A few days later, when Jesus again entered Capernaum, the people heard that he had come home. So many gathered that there was no room left, not even outside the door, and he preached the word to them. Some men came, bringing to him a paralytic, carried by four of them. Since they could not get him to Jesus because of the crowd, they made an opening in the roof above Jesus and, after digging through it, lowered the mat the paralyzed man was lying on. [Mark 2:1-4]
I know exactly how that man felt—friends carting him around, creating a spectacle, calling even more attention to his pitiful plight.
What right did this guy and his buddies have to demand access? Why couldn’t he just accept his place on the edges? He was making everyone uncomfortable, interrupting their dinner as well as Jesus’ teaching.
And they destroyed the roof! I can only imagine the disruption, the mess, the mixture of pity and outrage.
So I began by referencing this story, thanking the men who helped me, and joking that at least they didn’t have to create a makeshift skylight in the church ceiling. Everyone chuckled
My prepared remarks went well, and then it was time for discussion and questions.
What’s the hardest thing you’ve had to do?
I could have answered safely, offered an example of some trivial physical accomplishment. But that’s not what he was asking and this gathering wasn’t about being safe. So I answered honestly “The hardest thing I’ve had to do … was to let you carry me up the stairs.”
Men are supposed to be strong, independent, self-sufficient. We stand tall. We don’t watch things happen, we MAKE things happen.
That not how life feels in a wheelchair.
In a wheelchair you ask for help with simple tasks that everyone else takes for granted. The item you need at the grocery store is always just out of reach. The single step into a friend’s house is an insurmountable obstacle.
In a wheelchair you quite literally allow others to wash your feet—along with other, much more personal, acts of service.
In a wheelchair you learn that humble, humility, and humiliating all originate from the same root word.
I’m not thankful for being in a wheelchair, but I can be thankful in a wheelchair. I am not grateful for my injury, but I am grateful for the lessons it’s taught me. One of those lessons is the humility to allow others to help.
In a wheelchair, you get carried by strangers. It’s the hardest thing I’ve had to do.
What’s the hardest thing you’ve had to do?
Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus … [Philippians 2:5(a)]
Did you enjoy this article? I encourage you to leave a comment, visit my website, and/or send me an email at rich@richdixon.net.
Receive free updates via email:
Related articles:
{ 7 comments… read them below or add one }
I can relate in a different way. A few years back I had a surgery where the recovery was six weeks of not lifting anything over 5 pounds. When I expressed not wanting to ask for help to that degree from people, my pastor said to me, "Do you like to help people? Do you get blessed by helping others when they are in need?" My response was, "of course." She said, "then let us help you. If you don't, you will be robbing us of that blessing."
Hmmmm… I had never thought of it that way. But she was right.
Great post, Rich. I appreciate you.
Amazing–that’s just what the guys said about toting me up the steps! I get it, but I don’t like it. It’s so much easier to be the helper.
Great observation.
When I was growing up at home, my dad regularly took me up and down steps, so that wasn't a problem for me, but when I left home and I had to trust other people to do it, that was sometimes a problem! I'll never forget a friend who started taking me down steps backwards. When I started to freak out, he kept saying, "Don't worry. I've done this before", but that was small comfort when I couldn't see where I was going!
Thank you for sharing your story! This is something we face with our son quite often. Our little church has one ramp that takes him directly into the sanctuary. The door we have to use to get in is extremely loud and every week I just KNOW it's going to come off it's hinges. (it's a very old little church) If he wants to go downstairs for dinners, parties or Sunday morning Sunday school he has to be carried. If he wants to go to a dinner after church we first have to exit down the ramp (which is uncovered and can be a very wet ride at times) and go around the church to the front where he is carried down the flight of steps to the basement. In a small church with an attendance of maybe 35 on a good Sunday, it can be hard to find men to carry him. The church has never had to face the issue of a member in a wheelchair. Needles to say, we don't stay for dinners often. They have brought the food upstairs for dinners but it's still a problem as there are no restrooms on the first floor. We love our little church and hate to leave so we sacrifice some things but, for him it's just another barrier and another reminder of what he has lost this past year.
At 14 it's a difficult position to be in.
That's really sad–I just hope the barriers don't seperate him from God. He–and you–are missing some of the fellowship that's essential to Christian life. Such a dimemma, for you and the church. I pray that you'll discover a better solution.
Rich, Incredible things happen when you open yourself (your life experiences) to others who have no clue what it's like to be you-does that make sense? This was written so well, and we are able to get a look into your life-even if it's only a small look. I read this to my husband. It really touched him. Love your transparency!! Great job. God bless!
You’re right–amazing stuff happens when I stop trying to do it all myself. When I let others, and God, help, it’s all a lot easier.
{ 3 trackbacks }