The Importance of Visibility

The other day at the mall, I saw a girl, probably in her late teens, who was in a wheelchair. 

That isn't terribly unusual - I see people with physical disabilities two or three times a week. We really are everywhere: we attend school, we get dinner with friends, we go to bars, we shop for groceries, we go to work. 

What was remarkable about this girl was that she had all the signs of being newly disabled. Her wheelchair had the name of a local in-patient rehab hospital on the back, and she was being doted over by two other women, probably her mother and sister. I don't know anything about her life or her disability, so she might be only temporarily disabled, but I did notice that she was watching me. 

It made me think back to the beginning of my life with a wheelchair. 

At eleven years old, I hadn't had many experiences of seeing people with significant physical disabilities as they lived their normal lives. I had never seen a person in a wheelchair do the normal things that I do every day, let alone get married and have a family and a career. Without seeing people who were like me doing those things, I thought they couldn't be done. 

Throughout my teenage years, I sought out examples of people with disabilities living normal lives. There weren't very many: a high school teacher, a handful of other teenagers with the same insecurities as myself, and a few lifestyle articles in disability-related magazines. There were only a handful of people like me on TV or in books, and those that were there had brief appearances, often as a plot device.

The impact this had on me was significant. I spent a long time believing that I was doomed to live a lonely life without any of the independence I've now gained. For almost a decade, I was in a deep depression. I couldn't see that I had anything to live for, because I couldn't see hope for a good, "normal" life.

Life is different today. I've discovered examples of people with disabilities living happy, fulfilled lives, with families and careers and joy. I know that my life can include the things I wished for when I was younger.

The thing is... it shouldn't have taken a decade for me to understand that. Nobody should wake up from surgery or live their entire childhood with a disability without knowing that their physical conditions don't prevent them from living the lives they want to live. Nobody should have to seek out examples of people like themselves holding a job or going to college. Those examples should be readily available.

Visibility matters.

To Be Humble, or To Be Humbled?

There's a phrase I've heard a few times in the past few months that's really sticking with me.

"Be humble, or be humbled."

It's an interesting thought to me. The Lord has called His people to be humble, and it's going to happen. The only question is whether we'll choose to humble ourselves, or whether we will be humbled by an outside force.

At Friday Forum this week, the speaker spoke about entitlement and humility. He asked us to take a moment to think of the most humble person we know, and then describe the other traits that person has.

Here's the list we came up with:

• Elderly (not always, but often!)
• Spiritually sensitive (or a spiritual leader)
• Rarely talk about themselves
• Service-oriented 
• Grateful 
• High self-esteem
• Quiet, but not fearful
• Content with what they have
• Good leadership skills
• Patient 
• Selfless
• Penitent 

This is a pretty fantastic list of personal characteristics for anyone to develop. I'm making it my goal to work on them myself... I have a long way to go.

Grandma, c. 1992

When I look at that description, I think of my grandmother. I don't know very much about her life and what's shaped the personality I've seen during my lifetime, but I deeply admire her for having all of
the qualities listed. She isn't a member of my religion, but she's whole-heartedly dedicated to Christ. Even in times of great distress (she lost her second husband and her mother within a month of one another; she's survived breast cancer; she had an obnoxiously ungrateful teenage granddaughter), I've never heard her complain or express anger or ingratitude. Instead, I've seen her study the gospel of Jesus Christ, dedicate herself to serving others, and endure her trials with patience. When I think of the kind of person I want to be, she's the best example I can imagine.

For me, on the other hand, humility hasn't taken root. You might think that after 11 years in a wheelchair, being a 4'10" grown woman, being consistently sick for several years, etc, I would have humility down pat. Spoiler alert: NOPE! I am one P-R-I-D-E-F-U-L woman. I can be literally laying on the ground unable to get up and be entirely unwilling to ask for help. (This happens often. Maybe I should be learning something.)

(There's a missionary serving in Morgantown right now who frequently tells me, "Don't be embarrassed." I fall down and have to call him to come help me up pick me up... "Don't be embarrassed." I pull over while driving because I'm afraid I'm going to puke on the steering wheel... "Don't be embarrassed." I'm considering hiring him to follow me around saying that at opportune moments after his mission. That's a job any 21-year-old man would aspire to, right? ... What if I pay him in M&M brownies?)

It seems to me that my life is full of reminders to be more humble... I'm actually pretty certain that pridefulness was one of my premortal flaws, and part of the reason I'm so physically frail is that it gives me the opportunity to learn humility. I came to that realization a while ago, but it's been on my mind a lot lately, and I'm ready to get to work repenting.

Being humble doesn't mean being weak -- it means relying on the Lord for our strength. He is the source of all strength, so why not learn to humbly rely on Him?