Monday, Nov. 22nd Update from Joni

By |Published On: November 23, 2010|Categories: News|

Monday, November 22nd Update from Joni:

Last week was peppered with medical appointments, one of which was a bone density test (remember, chemotherapy damages them). So as Ken and I headed to the hospital, we’re thinking, can a bone scan be all that complicated? For most patients it means slipping on a surgical gown, hopping on the table, and taking a 10 minute nap while the scanner does its thing, right? I’m sure it’s that easy for most people, but most people aren’t quadriplegics. First, the scanner was in the tiniest of rooms in which Ken had to squeeze my wheelchair into a space the size of my closet (plus two male-aides to help lift me). Heaving me onto the table was no easy feat, then Ken nearly wrenched his back un-corseting me and positioning my body in line with the machine. After that, the 10 minute scan was a cinch — it was getting dressed on the table and back up into my wheelchair that took three times as long. It had me praying, “Oh Lord, give us grace!” But that’s ‘normal’ for a quadriplegic.
 
It’s normal to have a constant awareness of our total dependence on God. Yesterday I came across a fascinating comment on Joshua Harris’ blog. He was referencing John 15:5 where Jesus says, “I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.” Harris writes, “When we think about what it means to abide in Jesus our temptation is to a checklist. But abiding isn’t a program. Abiding is a relationship. We live in an electronic world and we want to treat this like charging an electronic device. How long do I have to be plugged into God through a quiet time or prayer or reading a book to get the charge I need to then go out and do my thing? But Jesus doesn’t say ‘I am the power cord, you are the cell phone.’ He says, ‘I’m the vine. You’re the branch.’ If you want life, there can’t be any disconnect. Abiding is living in this constant awareness of total dependence. Abiding is what desperate people do who realize that they have no life, power, no inward resource of themselves.” That was me on that bone scan table.
 
This Thanksgiving, when we gather around the table and, after dinner, share our ‘thanksgivings’ with one another, I’ll be grateful for this: cancer and quadriplegia have kept me abiding in Jesus in such a way I would’ve never dreamed possible just six months ago. This week it’s my prayer you’ll be thankful for the problems that keep you pressed up against Jesus’ heart, as well. Happy Thanksgiving, friend!

Recent Posts