Why Am I Disabled? Reflections on Life’s Questions and God’s Answers
Why Am I Disabled?
Reflections on Life’s Questions and God’s Answers
If you drive a car, you’ve probably had car trouble—flat tires, oil leaks, or cracked windshields. But have you ever had a broken wheelchair lift?
Like many other persons with disabilities, I rely on technology to make my life easier, more manageable. I use forearm crutches for walking around my home and for short distances throughout the day. For longer distances, I use a power wheelchair. A few months ago the ramp on my van that enables me to load and unload my wheelchair broke down. Imagine trying to keep the knees of your suit clean, while on the ground struggling to manually lift and lower a heavy metal ramp. I’d like to say I had the problem resolved quickly, but the repair was expensive and had to be performed at a specialized shop, so it took several months to get it fixed. I’m typically an optimistic person, but the realities of living with a physical disability can occasionally leave me asking tough questions: Lord, why am I disabled? What’s the point? Why does my life have to be so hard sometimes?
My Story—and God’s
My story is not dramatic or heroic—it’s simply the story of God’s faithfulness to a man born with a congenital neuromuscular disorder (similar to cerebral palsy). In utero exposure to rubella, or German measles, affected my lower extremities, necessitating the use of crutches and a wheelchair for mobility. I also have some hearing loss, vision problems, and a slight speech impediment.
My childhood was typical in many ways—going to school and church, playing in the backyard, and so forth—but there were also unique challenges: physical therapy three to five times a week, wearing leg braces during the day and at night, and major orthopedic surgery.
Growing up, I was blessed to be able to attend private Christian schools. Perhaps in part because of that environment, I didn’t encounter much in the way of the teasing, insults, or bullying that can be so common, especially when a child is noticeably “different” from his or her peers. On the other hand, I don’t remember having many friends. In fact, I can recall only one close friend during those years. People with visible disabilities often experience isolation. Though I felt liked, even admired, by my classmates and teachers, I had virtually no social life while growing up. It wasn’t until my first year in college that I learned how to be part of a “social circle.”
I can recall, as a child, crying myself to sleep, wishing that I could walk like everyone else. My mother would sit by my bed, praying with me for the Lord’s healing. Physical healing never came. Over time, the Lord gave me a peace that he had a purpose in allowing me to have my disability and that his purposes were good.
I grew up with a keen sense of the value of life, both my own life and that of others. Gradually, I developed a passionate commitment to defend and speak on behalf of the innocent and the voiceless, particularly the unborn and people with disabilities. I was active in the pro-life movement during my high school and undergraduate college years. To this day, I take seriously the admonitions of Scripture to “rescue the poor and helpless” () and “those who are unjustly sentenced to die” ().
From a young age, I read voraciously and developed a love of the written word, of ideas, and a desire to communicate the truth of the gospel. With the entertainment business in my blood (my grandfather worked as a film and television screenwriter for many years), I went off to college. I majored in communications, with the intention of going into the entertainment industry. But God had other plans.
Sometime during my undergraduate college years, I caught the academic bug—particularly in the areas of ethics and apologetics. When the launch of a new master’s-level program in philosophy of religion and ethics was announced at my university, I knew it was the path for me. So, partly out of sheer curiosity, and partly out of a desire to put intellectual meat on the bones of my longstanding pro-life convictions, I pursued that master’s program. I dove deep into the world of academic theology, philosophy, ethics, and bioethics, emerging many years later with three master’s degrees and a PhD in philosophy with a concentration in biomedical ethics.
Unbeknownst to me, during those years God was orchestrating events and circumstances to make it possible for me to end up working at Joni and Friends. This was, for me, a dream come true—and it’s a perfect illustration of how God “causes everything to work together for the good of those who love [him]” ().
At Joni and Friends, God is using my personal experience as a person with a disability, combined with my educational training and my passion for the value of human life, to support disability ministry. Only in retrospect can I see how all the pieces fit together. Of course, it would have been nice to know in advance how things would play out. I would love to be able to go back in time and reassure the young boy that I was with a preview of what was to come. But God rarely works that way; instead, he challenges our faith in order to strengthen our character. Looking back, I can see how he has used my disability to accomplish his perfect will in my life.
Challenges Faced, Lessons Learned
The answers to the “why?” questions aren’t always obvious. There is much that we’ll never know until we reach eternity. But this much I do know: I’m not disabled because I’m cursed or being punished; Jesus already took my punishment on the Cross (). I’m not a “defective” or useless human being because God has made me marvelously and has a divine purpose for my life (; ). And when I consider the practical ways in which having a disability has impacted my daily life, I can see some invaluable lessons learned along the way.
Life with a disability has taught me patience and endurance. As a person with limited mobility, I’ve had to learn to live with the fact that it will take me longer to get from point A to point B, whether I like it or not. Simple tasks—getting ready for work in the morning, for example—can take quite a bit longer than they do for most people. Fatigue and weariness are often familiar companions.
These realities have borne significant spiritual fruit. Developing patience has made me a more understanding listener. I’ve found that I tend to attract people who might not otherwise have someone to listen to them. My experiences with weakness and limitations make it possible for me to care for and comfort others with the comfort that I have received from God (). He has used my disability to develop character traits in me that, in turn, provide opportunities to minister to and serve others in their times of need.
Life with a physical disability has forced me to accept my limits. Truth be told, this is an ongoing struggle. As I get older, my stamina and energy are not what they used to be, and this can be frustrating. On occasion, I’ve had to pass up desirable opportunities, both professional and social, and there have been times when I’ve even felt like I was on the sidelines of life and ministry. I have not always been able to accomplish everything in life that I might have liked. Like many other single people with disabilities, I have yet to find a helpmate and must face the possibility that marriage is not in God’s sovereign plan for my life. I’ve had to learn—and continue to learn—to accept these limits, to rely solely on Christ’s strength, to accept that it’s okay to do what he’s called and empowered me to do—and no more. In times like these, Paul’s words are particularly comforting: “My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness. . . . That’s why I take pleasure in my weaknesses. . . . For when I am weak, then I am strong” ().
Having a physical disability has shaped my life and character in numerous ways. I mentioned earlier my passion for defending the weakest, most vulnerable among us—the unborn, the elderly, people with disabilities, and others deemed “unproductive” or “unworthy of life.” Would I have this passion, to the same degree, were it not for my experiences as a person with a disability? It’s hard to say, but I have my doubts.
Living with a physical disability has shaped my career path as well. Much as I might have liked to become a professional football player or a fighter jet pilot, these options simply weren’t in the cards for me in light of my physical limitations. Given the way God has wired me, it makes sense that I’ve gravitated toward academic and intellectual pursuits.
Finally, as is true of many disabled persons—especially those with visible impairments—humor has become a mainstay of my life. Without the ability to laugh at myself and the sometimes ridiculous situations that life can throw my way, things could get depressing very quickly. In my case, given the clumsy gene that I’m certain I inherited from somewhere, I can’t help but laugh at myself—and I’m convinced that God has a friendly chuckle too!
None of this, of course, is intended to sugarcoat the realities of life with a disability. Without a doubt, having a disability can pose many challenges. For me, it has at times been physically draining, financially costly, lonely, and isolating. But through it all, God has always been my strength (); provided for my needs (); and surrounded me with family, friends, coworkers, and fellow believers who have loved and cared for me. I’ve been fortunate to have a family that has supported me, encouraged me to pursue my dreams, and believed in me and my ability to achieve my goals. I’ve also had teachers, professors, and professionals who have taken an interest in me, mentored me, and invested their lives in mine. Many people with disabilities are not so blessed.
A professor of mine once pointed out that for the Israelites, the future was in the past. The same is true for us today. God’s faithfulness in the past gives us—and me—tremendous hope for the future. If I want to be reassured that it will all work out in the end for me, I need only to look back on key times in my life when God has proven himself faithful.
Looking Forward: A Glorious Hope
On occasion, fellow believers have asked if they could pray for me to be healed. I’ve always been happy to let them do so—I certainly wouldn’t complain if the Lord chose to heal me miraculously and instantaneously. However, in recent years I’ve followed up that prayer by pointing out that if the Lord chooses not to work an immediate miracle, it doesn’t mean that he hasn’t heard our prayer or that one of us didn’t have enough faith. When it comes to my physical healing, I like to say, “The healing is coming—the only question is the delivery date.”
In the meantime, my job is to remain faithful to God’s calling on my life, to do—by his grace and in his strength—my best with what he’s given me, and to leave the results up to him. It will be an amazing thing to see, someday, how God weaved all the details of each of our lives into the larger tapestry of his Kingdom plan.
While I certainly can’t speak for all people with disabilities, I do believe we share many of the same experiences and ask similar life questions. After more than forty years of seeing God’s faithfulness, I’ve come to believe that my story is ultimately God’s story—he is the central character, the protagonist, the hero. As I’ve considered the “why?” question over the years, I’ve come to accept the unknowns and learned to trust in God’s infinite, eternal wisdom. Ultimately, my trust is rooted in God’s character—his goodness and his faithfulness. Although he permitted disability to touch my life, I can rest assured that he will continue to walk with me through this journey. His promises—of eternal life; of a renewed, glorified body; of fellowship with him and his family forever—will be fulfilled. Knowing this gives me hope for the future, joy and peace in the present, and strength for the road ahead.