No Higher Calling: A Christian Response to Suffering
No Higher Calling
A Christian Response to Suffering
You are about to begin a remarkable journey through the Beyond Suffering Bible. Here is an important question to keep in mind as you read: How will this affect the way you live? You may still feel battered by intractable pain and overwhelmed by the nonstop, day-to-day routines of your disability. Yes, this Bible is your singular most precious resource, but you may still be wondering, Is God’s Word truly sufficient for every need—for my need?
The Sufficiency of Scripture for Our Deepest Needs
People often ask me, “Joni, what Scripture passages help you the most? What drove away your depression?” Good question. Yes, I was familiar with the Word of God when I had my accident, but I needed help in applying it.
My permanent paralysis had plummeted me into a deep, dark depression, and I was sinking quickly into despair. During the night when hospital visiting hours were over, I would violently wrench my neck back and forth on my pillow, hoping to snap it at a higher level, and so end my misery. During the day, when I wasn’t in occupational or physical therapy, I’d head down the hall to the solarium. I would ask the hospital aide or my visitor to close the blinds. In the dim room, I would listen to Beatles albums all afternoon. I sang one song over and over: “Blackbird singing in the dead of night, take these broken wings and learn to fly. All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arise. . . . Blackbird fly into the light of the dark, black night.”
One day, a 17 year old named Steve who loved God’s Word and cared about me observed, “Don’t you know any uplifting songs?” His question embarrassed me. Privately, I knew those morbid tunes were a way of coddling self-pity, and even expressing hidden bitterness. Steve continued, “Joni, since you like to sing, how about singing something a little more heartening?”
He then flipped open to , “Instead, be filled with the Holy Spirit, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs among yourselves, and making music to the Lord in your hearts. And give thanks for everything to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.”
“But I don’t feel thankful,” I replied. Steve explained that trusting God has nothing to do with trustful feelings. I countered, “But a life of total paralysis? It’s too big, too much!”
“Then start small,” Steve wisely said. “Take life in bite-sized, manageable chunks. Start giving thanks to God for small things.”
I thought it was hypocritical to thank God when I didn’t feel thankful, and it would’ve been hypocritical had I thanked God only to impress Steve or others, but I was tired of being depressed. I was weary of all the self-pity, and I knew I had to start somewhere in order to move forward into life.
I began taking at face value. I began loosening my tongue and mouthing words of thanks, hoping that somehow God would be merciful and fill my heart with the emotion of true gratitude. I wasn’t hiding the hardness of an unthankful spirit; I was desperately hoping for the in-breaking of the Holy Spirit! Day after day, I made a habit of saying, “Lord, I’m going to start singing every old Sunday school song I can remember. And I give thanks that I can see, and that I can feel above my shoulders. I give thanks that I can sit up in a wheelchair. I give thanks that I can wheel outside and read in the hospital rose garden.” It was a small start, but an honest one.
After several months, a miracle occurred: I began to feel the emotion of thankfulness. I learned that following the Bible—even saying the right thing with a hopeful spirit—was a way of placing myself under the shower of God’s mercy. Thanksgiving with the mouth stirs up thankfulness in the heart. It’s why tells us to “Enter his gates with thanksgiving; go into his courts with praise. Give thanks to him and praise his name. For the LORD is good. His unfailing love continues forever, and his faithfulness continues to each generation.”
So what changed me? What lifted the depression? To be sure, God’s care was ministered through acts of kindness from friends—weekend trips to the mall, teen magazines, girlfriends who painted my nails and brought in pizza. But it was the Word of God that changed my heart, lifted the depression, and put me on the path to right living. I had grabbed hold of a scriptural anchor in , obeyed its command, and in so doing, placed myself in the best position to receive God’s mercy. I couldn’t wait to follow more scriptural directives!
Owning My Weaknesses
Months after I was released from the hospital, I excitedly told Steve how my wheelchair was helping me dig deeper into the Word of God. He was silent for a moment, and then said with a smile, “Joni, that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you call it ‘my wheelchair.’” I was pleasantly surprised by his comment. Finally, I was beginning to own my weakness. What do I mean?
Andrew Murray explains it best: “The Christian often tries to forget his weakness: God wants us to remember it, to feel it deeply. The Christian wants to conquer his weakness and to be freed from it: God wants us to rest and even rejoice in it. The Christian mourns over his weakness: Christ teaches His servant to say, ‘I take pleasure in infirmities; most gladly will I glory in my infirmities.’ The Christian thinks his weakness his greatest hindrance in the life and service of God: God tells us that it is the secret of strength and success. It is our weakness, heartily accepted and continually realized, that gives us our claim and access to the strength of Him who has said, ‘My strength is made perfect in weakness.’”
It is a totally different way of looking at suffering. Not as the world perceives it but as the Bible explains it, for God’s power always shows up best in our weakness. Own your weakness. Take responsibility for it. See it as an ally, not an enemy. God cares too much—way too much—about us to leave us wallowing in self-pity in a dark hospital solarium, listening to depressing songs. And so through the strange blessing of weakness, he pushes and prods us to take him at his Word.
Is there a physical challenge too great? Is there a disability too profound? Is there physical pain too chronic? The apostle Paul says, “Although he [Jesus] was crucified in weakness, he now lives by the power of God. We, too, are weak, just as Christ was, but when we deal with you we will be alive with him and will have God’s power” (). An amazing transaction occurs in this verse. As Jesus yielded his suffering to his Father, he received God’s power. And in so doing, he makes us more than conquerors—for when we see ourselves as weak, Jesus makes it possible for us to live by the power of God. Little wonder the apostle Paul tells us to own our suffering. He wants us to delight in it and boast in it. Glory in your infirmities, for then Christ’s power rests on you.
Persevering in Hope
However, don’t think I am always consistent in exchanging my weakness for God’s strength. After five decades of quadriplegia, I still struggle, especially now that I deal with chronic pain. On many mornings, I wake up with a throbbing hip as well as a peevish, sour attitude. But years of paralysis have taught me to run to the Word of God. When weakness overwhelms me, I borrow the cry of the psalmist in , “Why am I discouraged? Why is my heart so sad? I will put my hope in God! I will praise him again—my Savior and my God!”
I do my best to push away self-pity, scolding my soul and saying, “Joni, what do you have to be depressed about? There are thousands of people dealing with more critical disabilities than yours. Don’t be downcast. You have a home in heaven. You have been blessed with every spiritual blessing. You possess a mind that thinks, and eyes that see, and ears that hear. Come on, put your hope in God your Savior!”
I try to never doubt in darkness what I once believed in the light. I remember timeless lessons from the Bible that carried me through earlier trials. Most of all, I recall God’s promise of power in the midst of my weakness. And before long, I find myself reciting a favorite quote I memorized long ago: “Receive every inward and outward trouble, every disappointment . . . darkness and desolation with both your hands, as a blessed occasion of dying to self, and entering into a fuller fellowship with your Savior. Look at no inward or outward trouble in any other view; reject every other thought about it; and then every kind of trial and distress will become the blessed day of your prosperity.”
Divine power finds its full scope and strength only in human weakness (). It is not that weakness is merely a prerequisite for God’s power; they exist simultaneously when a wounded, broken heart stops asking “Why?” with a clenched fist and starts asking “Why?” with a searching heart. Divine power washes away discouragement when a bruised and battered soul simply looks Godward.
This is the way I counsel people with disabilities who are struggling to put depression behind them. At Joni and Friends, we believe that the Word of God is sufficient for every counseling need, even when you are bedridden, paralyzed, and hooked up to a ventilator.
Helping Others
I implore you to take what you learn in the Beyond Suffering Bible and help others find hope, relief, justice, and mercy. Share the Beyond Suffering Bible with them. We live in a culture of death that believes that a person is better off dead than disabled. But you can help them see that life is worth living. You can guide them through the maze of sticky healthcare issues, assuring them that the Holy Spirit is with them every step of the way. Become acquainted with current laws that safeguard a person’s right to information, proper treatment, healthcare financing, or disability benefits. So many people with disabilities feel utterly overwhelmed by the confusing tangle of information. Do the legwork on their behalf, and pave the way for them to live in the mainstream of life.
Is there a need for housing, personal care services, or employment? Your advocacy for these practical needs to be met can be such a powerful expression of Christian love. And if you come up against discrimination, then contact local agencies that can provide step-by-step guidance. Good laws are on the books, but often it takes a formal complaint to bring about compliance. And don’t give up.
You can encourage caregivers to receive respite—and help them find it. Your church can hold a Mother’s Pampering Day for special-needs moms in your community. You can help a quadriplegic get up once a week. You can direct a family affected by disability to attend a Joni and Friends Family Retreat. You can do what Steve once did with me—pull up a chair and lead them through the Word of God. This is what Christian advocacy looks like.
The Christian’s response to suffering is to act on all that Jesus secured for us through his death and resurrection. On the cross, he began reversing the effects of the Fall, and our responsibility is to help the world understand what that looks like. Where we see despair, we offer hope. Where we see disability, we impart wholeness and healing. Where we see poverty and homelessness, we offer the security and significance of knowing Christ as well as a change in community structures. Where we see injustice, we labor to bring about impartiality and righteousness.
As Christians, it is our job to reclaim this broken world under the family banner of Jesus Christ. We reclaim earth as rightfully his when we “flesh out” what Christ’s Kingdom looks like: “For the Kingdom of God is . . . living a life of goodness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit. If you serve Christ with this attitude, you will please God, and others will approve of you, too” ().
It’s all about passing on the hope. God is doing everything from his end; everything to alleviate the affliction of people with disabilities here in the West and around the world. He is bending over backward to show people that cerebral palsy is not a curse from animist spirits. He is doing everything to rescue disabled children abandoned in dumpsters. He is heaven-bent on restoring broken marriages. He is fighting; his Holy Spirit is battling on behalf of every adult and child who has autism, Down syndrome, spina bifida, or a spinal cord injury. And he has called you to fight alongside him. I can’t think of a higher and more holy calling.
As my brother or sister in Christ, be a blessing to others through your own brokenness. Tell hurting people about the soon and coming Messianic Banquet (; ). Go where injustice, bigotry, and bias are the order of the day, and work for a new order. Go where the Kingdom is weak, and make it strong. Go where the world is bleeding out of control, and apply the gospel tourniquet. Go where the Good News barely has a toe-hold, and plant the flag of the King. As you do, you will have the indisputable favor of God.
“Blackbird Singing in the Dead of Night.” Writer(s): D. Galli, Paul Sears, Paul McCartney, John Lennon, M. Benassi, A. Benassi, Alex Lee. Copyright: Sony/ATV Tunes LLC, Bug Music Ltd. (GB), Energy Productions.
Andrew Murray, Abide in Christ: Thoughts on the Blessed Life of Fellowship with the Son of God (London: James Nisbet & Co., 21 Berners Street. 1888), page 195.
William Law, The Works of the Reverend William Law, M.A. (London: Printed for J. Richardson, 1762. Privately Reprinted for G. Moreton, 42, Burgate Street, Canterbury. 1893), page 187.