“My Beautiful Walk” by Joanne Phillips
My Beautiful Walk
A middle of the night prompting…right. Or is it write? God whispered that one word much to my confusion.
God persisted…get up and write.
Clearer, but not really. Then the excuses – what am I supposed to write about? I’m not a writer. It’s 4:00 in the morning, and quite simply, I don’t want to! In the end, sleep won; I didn’t write – not one single word.
Months later, another middle of the night prayer session where I found myself praying words of surrender to the will of God. As I came out of this time of prayer, I reached for my phone that I had last used to read the Bible. When I pushed the home button to bring it to life, I was stunned to see it was divinely opened to this website – ”Our City on a Hill” – which I have to confess, I hadn’t looked at in months. I immediately felt the guilt lift of an ignored prompting and knew this was my second chance to get up and write.
The excitement of knowing this specific purpose quickly faded as I struggled with how and where to begin, what to write about, how to glorify God through my simple words. And then God laid this sentence on my mind…buried deep in this introvert is a voice not my own that needs to proclaim the treasure I’ve found. This treasure was discovered in the wreckage of a car accident many years ago.
My story, my beautiful walk as I like to call it, began on a spring evening in Stillwater, Oklahoma, in April 1998. I would love to say that on this evening my eyes were opened at a Spirit-filled church service, or through the testimony of a friend, or countless other less dramatic and traumatic ways; but honestly, this beautiful walk began under quite tragic circumstances.
As I rode home in the backseat of my friend’s car that evening, I remember thinking, ‘life is good’. How quickly things changed from that sentiment when minutes later, literally life changing moments, my delight in that evening was dramatically interrupted by the sound of screeching tires and gravel flying when my friend took a curve too fast.
The rushing sound of the wind coming through the windows and the crunching of metal as we rolled down the embankment haunted me for many months. But almost more chilling was the silence that followed. There was no talking or crying, or any sounds for that matter from the two front seat passengers.
Just silence.
In fact, as things came back into focus and the stillness and silence settled in, I realized I was the only one still in the car. Alone in the backseat, with indescribable back pain, my mind began to process the situation.
It is hard to describe the realization that the shoes that eerily appeared to be floating above the front seat were, in fact, mine and even more confounding was that they were indeed still on my feet – feet and legs I could no longer feel. The silence was broken as I began to cry out for my friend and sirens could be heard in the distance.
Where is the beauty in this walk? In a car accident that resulted in the loss of a friend’s life and my ability to feel or move my legs?
This was the night I learned to walk a new way. This was the night that I lost my ability to physically walk but I began my beautiful walk with the Lord.
God called my name. He pursued me. Love found me. And in the darkest moment of my life, there was a light – a hope. A hope that sprung forth out of the wreckage of that evening.
A hope that I saw in people as they prayed over me and for me. A hope that helped me see as I laid in a hospital bed that I was at a crossroads: a road of bitterness and anger or one of acceptance and hope. And when I turned toward the light and the hope and uttered those first simple words to the God that I had turned away from for many years, there was no judgment or fear, no shame or guilt, just the loving embrace of a Father welcoming me back.
There are so many things I can write about that night and the days that followed: painful surgeries, weeks in the hospital, a new vocabulary that included words like paraplegic, complete injury, and wheelchair accessible. But what’s most remarkable to me is to look back in the rear view mirror of my life and see God’s hand at work in all those moments.
There is beauty in this walk of mine, a beauty that can only be seen through the rose-colored lenses of Christ. And with my new vision, God has revealed much to me over the years. There is a deceptive simplicity in writing out these God-taught lessons. There may also be a false implication that my walk with God suddenly all came together. I can say with complete truthfulness that there were, and still are, moments of doubt, anxiety, and fear; but in those moments God reminds me that I’m not drowning in a sea of my circumstances but rather floating in a sea of His grace.
Through the mustard seed of faith that God planted in the wreckage of that night, He has taught me that “in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!”
God has taught me that ordinary things, like grocery shopping or taking care of my family, don’t become extraordinary simply because I do them from a wheelchair.
God has shown me the importance of balancing my need for independence with a humble dependence on others at times, but always, always, a reliance on Him.
God has taught me not to feel a sense of loss when I can’t feel the grass beneath my feet or the sand between my toes, but to be grateful of the fact that I always have a loving lap for a child to climb up in. To be grateful in circumstances I never imagined myself in, let alone thriving in.
God has taught me that we all have a story to share. Christ in me has allowed me to listen to the stories of perfect strangers in the middle of the store or on neighborhood sidewalks who feel I might understand what they’re going through simply because I wheel around in an outward symbol of what others perceive as a struggle. Although many people simply see a woman in a wheelchair, what I really long for, what I truly hope and pray for is that what others might see is the irresistible beauty and light of Christ shining through me.
God has taught me that suffering is never from Him but He can redeem it in amazing, beautiful ways. He has instilled in me the eternal hope in His words: that “the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast.” 1 Peter 5:10 NIV
God has shown me the beauty and peace found in completely surrendering my life to Him; a freedom I had never experienced until I recognized the difference between following the rules of religion and truly experiencing the presence of God.
God has shown me how to delight in the blessed assurance that He is with me on my beautiful walk from now into eternity. That as I try “to run with perseverance the race marked out for me” (Hebrews 12:1), He is with me every step of the way.
God has shown me how to cherish two things in the silence of the night as I fall asleep: that He often speaks to me in my dreams and in my dreams, every one that I can remember from the past 19 years, I’m always walking – always.
And when I wake and throughout the day, I try to focus on walking patiently with the Lord, with humility and hope. A hope that was born and a walk that began on a beautiful spring night many years ago.
And when God says get up and write, He has something to say. It is time to share my, no, our story.
About the Author~
Joanne is a wife and mother of five who has enjoyed living in Huntsville for the past 9 years. She serves part-time on the staff at Cove Church and delights in sharing laughter, love, and adventure with family and friends.
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