How a Friend Helped Me Accept My Need for a Wheelchair

“…but finding no way to bring him in, because of the crowd, they went up on the roof and let him down with his bed through the tiles into the midst before Jesus.”

Luke 5:19

Isn’t it interesting how two words can take up so much space in your life and wreak unimaginable havoc on the “plans” you have for yourself? I have Friedreich’s ataxia, a rare neurodegenerative disease with no cure. Two pretty small words. Much more than a pretty small impact. Those “plans” of mine have changed dramatically, but what has not changed is the one who holds me, the one who loves me and who continuously blesses me through everything.

Looking backwards sometimes shines a spotlight on God’s love and grace so you can go boldly forward, confident that although life is constantly changing, he never will.

I am sure of the fact that I will never forget that day or how long it took me to get there. A wheelchair was something that I had truthfully needed for a long time, but I just couldn’t make that leap on my own. It felt huge and life-altering; I mean, a wheelchair should not even be a realistic thought at 23. Right? Yes, I trusted God. Yes, I knew he had a plan. And, of course, I knew he loved me. But this? I could not see the plan or the love in a wheelchair. So, he used my dear friend to show me.

Shannon and her husband (fiancé at the time), Walt, gifted me my first wheelchair. I had tried so hard to disguise and downplay my need for a mobility aid, but I knew I was fooling no one. Shannon stepped into that gap and did what I could not. And on that day, when the wheelchair showed up on my porch in a big box, I cried. Then I called Shannon and she cried with me.

When we became instant forever friends in 1985, there was absolutely no hint about that day nineteen years in the distance. But God knew.

In his faithful loving-kindness, a lifelong friendship was planted and would grow, bloom, and be strengthened by a storm.

The undeniable importance of friends and community is perfectly highlighted in Luke chapter 5 with the story of a paralyzed man being lowered through a roof to see Jesus. Verse 19 tells us that the men carrying him found no way through the crowd, so they went up on the roof and lowered his bed through the tiles. I love the imagery this story creates; I am moved by the actions of these men to make a way where there wasn’t one. All for the benefit of another. And yet, I know those men must have felt incredibly blessed by doing something with such fiercely faithful determination.

God created community and friendships to give each one of us help and joy through this life; and like everything he does, we can trust that he loves us.

He used Shannon & Walt to remind me of his love through a wheelchair of all things. True, eventually I would have been forced into this decision anyway, but I don’t know if I would have ever seen a wheelchair as a gift otherwise. Such a blessing!

I remember the first few times I used my new way of getting around, it was incredibly bitter and sweet at the same time. For several years prior, a wheelchair signified GAME OVER to me. I mean, for sure that was the beginning of the end because how in the world could I be me while being strapped to a set of wheels? And unfortunately, they aren’t little discreet wheels, they’re big. And very far from discreet. It would define me; I was convinced of that. So, one of the very first times I used it, my family and I went to the mall. But I insisted on going to a mall in a different valley from where we lived. I knew it was definitely going to be a horrible experience. But it wasn’t. I felt free in a way I hadn’t in much too long. Instead of being so focused on going to the one exact store I had planned on and being so consumed with not falling over; I could go to multiple stores without being completely stressed out and exhausted, or constantly needing to be aware of the nearest wall, or railing, or clothing rack to grab ahold of to steady myself. I enjoyed myself and that surprised me. I also didn’t morph into some sad and unrecognizable imitation of myself; I was still me.

I wish I could say the transition to being a wheelchair user was just that simple and always as enjoyable as that first mall trip, but it wasn’t. And it isn’t even now. I feel like I’m still adjusting so many years later and maybe I will always.

But one of the most important things I have learned…be kind to yourself, allow yourself grace.

Grace. Because that is what God gives us. Lean on him, he will give you the grace to walk (or roll!) through something you don’t understand and see the beauty inside the difficult. Trust me…I am living inside the difficult and there is definitely beauty. Life looks different than what I hoped BUT different is not the opposite of beautiful.

Written By—Stephanie Magness