Unhindered Freedom

My hands have helped heal hearts; those same hands are incapable of cutting up a steak for dinner.

My eyes have conveyed kindness and relayed love in the midst of a storm. Those same eyes are often times blind to the same affection sent in my direction.

I can rely on my legs and feet to help me stand up in the midst of conflict and, by the grace of God, not move away from what I know is Truth. Those same legs and feet often times give way and crumble away to nothing when I need them most.

I often times dissolve into tears over the desire to be hindered less. Just as quickly, however, those tears turn joyful as I realize those hinderances make me need Jesus. Because of that, they are the greatest gift I own.

As I shared with someone last night one of the pettiest hinderances I live with, I fought back tears. It’s just not fair to be a 20-something and have to see myself as weak and needy over something most 8 year olds can do on their own. It’s just not right.

It didn’t matter that my need didn’t inconvenience the man I was leaning on. It inconvenienced my self-perceived strength. That hurt more than a scalpel pulling at damaged skin. I don’t want to be weak. Dang it.

As laughter refilled the conversation, I shook off my frustration and acted as if nothing was wrong. But my smile became real when I heard God chuckle and remind me:

Its an oxymoron to call a Christian with a disability “hindered.” Those hinderances waltz me into the arms of my Maker– if I let them.

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