My legs feel heavy. What’s going on? A friend and I were walking together when strange sensations unsettled me. It’s like my legs don’t want to move. I figured that my back was acting up again.
After several trips and falls, I finally saw my doctor, who referred me to a specialist, who referred me to another. We scheduled surgery. While it went well, disappointment washed over me. I’m still not walking well.
Finally, we went to see a neurologist specializing in MS. MS isn’t my problem, it’s my back, I told myself.
After extensive tests and MRIs, I learned that I have Primary Progressive Multiple Sclerosis—PPMS. It is challenging to diagnose, and he suggested that I may have had it seven to nine years already.
My mind whirled. This can’t be real, I told myself. It’s not that bad.
But there currently is no cure for MS.
My MS continued to progress. The day came when I needed a cane to keep from falling, then a walker. Slowly, but surely, I lost much of my independence. I had to stop driving. I left my job. Today, I use a motorized scooter. How thankful I am for my husband and caregiver, for my family and friends who help me and encourage me.
I’m not going to lie, my pride and ego have taken a hit! I’ve endured depression and sorrow for what I lost. I draw attention to myself in public because of the equipment I use. I tell myself that I need to get over it, but some days I don’t listen to myself very well.
WHEN THE HEALING DOESN'T COME
Scripture tells of people Jesus healed (Luke 8:43-48; Mark 10:46-51; Luke 13:10-15).
I believe that He still heals. Yet God doesn’t heal everybody, though there are plenty of days when I wish that He would! Instead, He gives His inexplicable peace, contentment in His unfailing love, and strength, though not in our bodies.
Strange as it may seem, in all of this, I couldn’t get mad at God. We all face challenges, and seeing God use them for His glory is amazing.
Through my story, God wants me to convey that no matter the disability, we have a purpose: to serve and glorify Him. Can you do that?
I am reminded often of what Paul wrote to the Church at Corinth. Paul had what he described as a thorn in the flesh—a continual torment (2 Cor. 12:7-10). I know what my torment is, can you name yours? Is it a physical thorn in the flesh? An emotional or mental one?
Like Paul, I asked God to take this from me and God said no. Has God said no to removing your thorn? I really don’t like the answer, “no.” I would rather do it my way. To accept God’s “no” means that I need to be content with what God has given me—not waving my fist at Him, insisting that He fix it.
Paul pleaded with the Lord to take his thorn away. Maybe like us, Paul thought, If I plead enough, God will give me what I want, but God didn’t. God did answer: “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Cor. 12:9).
I choose every day—sometimes moment by moment—to find that my Savior’s grace is enough, that in my weakness He is making me strong.
STRENGTH IN WEAKNESS
Does God’s sufficient grace take away the effects of MS in my body? No. But I choose to rest in God’s strength and pray that His glory shows through. Honestly, I’m not very good at surrendering to what God wants each day, but I do better on the days when God’s words to Paul come to my heart: “Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me… For when I am weak, then I am strong” (2 Cor. 12:9-10).
We too need to make our weakness a boasting point of the power of Christ in us. It wasn’t about the thorn in the flesh; it was about Paul’s response. Learning from him, our response can allow God’s glory to shine through our life. That’s hard some days, especially when I fall and bruise, or the spasms get painful. When I am weak, then I am strong.
Many of us choose a word for the coming year. I thought and prayed about what I would choose, but what kept coming to mind was: I am not in control, but I am dearly loved by the One who is.
I don’t have a word. I have a phrase.
I choose every day—sometimes moment by moment—to find that my Savior’s grace is enough, that in my weakness He is making me strong.
Since my diagnosis, I have joined a gym for people with MS. I have met so many wonderful people who deal with this disease every day. There I meet smiling, encouraging people who work hard to make their bodies work. One day a woman came in to exercise and sat on the machine next to me. “How are you?” I asked. She smiled and said she got her shoes on today without help! I high-fived her because so did I! Finding joy in the little things in our lives moves us forward in allowing God’s glory to shine through.
God is having me be a part of a group of courageous, determined people whom I would never have met if not for MS. As I talk with them every day, I understand their fear of falling, the anxiety of going out in public, the exhaustion of getting ready for the day.
Many wonderful people struggle with disease, emotional issues, and other thorns in the flesh. Where are you finding your strength? Can you, in your physical pain and disability, your anxiety and depression, your worry and fear, say that God’s grace is sufficient and that you have given your body to the One who created you? Our weaknesses provide ideal opportunities for God to display His power.
As I continue this life journey, my phrase for the year keeps coming back to me: I am not in control, but I am dearly loved by the One who is. My Lord gently pries my controlling fingers from around my life, holds my hand, and reassures me that He will guide me.
I know that you struggle, my friend. In your struggle, lift your eyes from the maelstrom of daily life. Raise your face (Ps. 121:1-2). Look to the One who loves you so dearly and is in control.
~ By Brenda Ransom
