I awoke early this morning, and not wanting to miss one minute of this spectacularly beautiful April day, I decided to load my wheelchair and head to the river for a "walk" on the trail.
The morning was not at all unlike the mornings a decade ago when I dropped my kids at school, grabbed a coffee at McDonald's and headed to the river for time with God. I say "time with God" and people probably picture head bowed, Bible open, serene time spent with the Father. IT WAS NOTHING LIKE THAT! It was raw and turbulent and painful. I railed at the heavens with my pain over my disability. I asked questions and demanded answers. I yelled. I sobbed. I wrestled. And in the end, I allowed God to just pull me into His arms and hold me, too tired to wrestle anymore. I remember one particularly painful morning at the river, when I rolled the windows up on my car so nobody would hear me, and I screamed, "I HATE YOU!" I was so terribly, terribly angry that my loving Father, or at least the Father I was told was loving, could so callously (as I saw it) withhold the healing of my body that I believed He could accomplish with so much as a whisper.
For months and months, I haunted that stretch of river, sitting in my car, and boldly entreating the great I AM to give me 1)answers 2)healing or 3)strength to surrender and to go on.
All of that flooded back to mind today as I rolled my wheelchair along the trail, and the joy of the morning combined with the pain of previous mornings was almost more that I could hold.
As I rolled along, on this morning so beautiful it made me ache, with sunlight glimmering on the lakegreen water and ducks quacking as I rolled past, and the smell of freshly mowed grass, and the cool spring air caressing my cheeks, and green so vivid it hurt erupting in verdant new life, I was awash with the scripture: Love the Lord your God with all your mind, heart, soul, and strength.
And as I rolled, what I thought would be a exercise session, turned into a prayer. Not even a prayer spoken with words, but just a prayer of love and gratitude expressed through heart and body and spirit.
As I contrasted that former pain with the glorious joy I was experiencing of being freed and healed so much that I told God, "I love this amazing life you've given me, and I love rolling this wheelchair, and I love my body", it was like looking backwards to baptism and seeing life beginning in that moment but finding fulfillment with time.
Do I believe God heard those prayers of that desperate and hurting woman? Do I believe God answered those prayers with healing BEYOND what I asked? Oh, yes.
The best way I know how to describe my experience at the river today was that it was a love poem written by God to me. It is one that I will carefully fold and tie with a pink ribbon and place in the box in my memory where I keep the treasured love letters He has written me over the years.
A two mile aerobic workout AND a love affair with God. Not a bad way to start the day.
(Thank you God)
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