GOD'S GIFT OF GRACE

“Only girls have their ears pierced Grandpa!”

For the third time in the past three weeks, I listened to a different doctor explain to me that there was nothing that could be done to stem the progression of the multiple sclerosis as it continued the deterioration of my brain and the destruction of my body that had began 17 years ago. No surgery, no new drugs. No wonders of medical technology producing a
cure. Oh, they offered some suggestions
to treat the symptoms with drugs and assistive devices to give me some level of
mobility and ease the fatigue of daily tasks.
But there was no cure.

After meeting with the doctor we drove to my daughter’s house, where Katelyn, my 4 year old granddaughter, was standing in her driveway. Her normal, care free to- the
-wind hairdo had been pulled back, subdued by two braided pigtails. Even with
my mind focusing elsewhere, I could not miss those bright pink earrings in her
newly pierced ears. Katelyn’s first
words to me told me all about the earrings “which she has to leave in her ears
until after her Mom’s birthday which is a long time away in November, and if
she pulls the earrings out the holes in her ears will shut and she will have to
have them drilled again and it only hurt a little bit the first time.”

“They are beautiful Katelyn!” “Maybe Grandpa should get his ears pierced too?” I responded.

I was quickly advised in no uncertain terms that “Only girls get their ears pierced Grandpa!”

I decided not to spoil her excitement by telling her the story of her Uncle’s earring, but instead smiled, soaking in her laughter and
simply joy of a 4 year old
experiencing the excitement of life.

A little while later, when it was time to go home, I sat sideways on the passenger seat of the van and started slowly shifting my leg, unsuccessfully trying to pick up my feet to get them into the van. There stood Katelyn by the open van door. She
was ready to grab my shoe and lift my leg into the van just like she had done a
few times before. She knew that I could not bend my legs without help. Between her unbridled I- can- help enthusiasm
and her mother’s gentle guidance they moved my legs into the van for our ride
home.

I soon drifted off to sleep, not wanting to think about being in a wheel chair or losing my independence or needing help with the fatiguing simple steps of personal care.
I did not want to expend any energy considering what it would be like
not driving, or not being able to go to work everyday, and asking others to
help me. I was exhausted from agonizing
over the unknowns of tomorrow, from losing the confidence that I will be able
to continue to do what God expects of me, and asking myself who I am or who I
am becoming.

Dinner was served. I was lost in the thought of this journey! Where had the confidence gone that I felt when I first began using a
CANE? The deep rooted confidence that
through the MS God was inviting me to experience and share His grace with
others. I did not want Ruth to tell me
about continuing to “fight the good fight” or “run the race” or “walk with
Him.” I did not want to hear Bible
verses. I didn’t want to hear about walking in His grace or living for
Him. I was lost in the fears of being helpless.

Then it hit me. My anger was wrapped up in the words “fight, run, walk.” The energy and mobility portrayed and demanded by these words only served to deepen and underscore the uselessness I
felt as I was trapped in the mire of my overwhelming fatigue. I could not see beyond my fatigue to
understand the magnitude of God’s grace being extended to me.

Some where along my journey, perhaps more acutely in the past few months, I began thinking that I was physically responsible for extending God’s grace to others. I
believed because I could not go to work, my lack of mobility, and because of my
need for more physical care, that I was losing my identity and ability to help
others spiritually. The progression of
MS had robbed me of my spiritual ministry. I was thinking I was responsible for
God’s extension of grace to others. I was
thinking I was no longer capable of helping other’s experience His grace.

Then the image of 4 year old Katelyn using her small hands lift my heavy feet back into the van came rushing back to me. God had not abandoned me. MS had not separated me from Him. God was being faithful to the promises He made to Abraham, Joshua, Moses, David, Job, John, and Paul, our grandparents,
our parents, our children and our grandchildren. He knew us before we were born. He promised to care for us. He promised to “carry” us through this life
into eternity with Him.

Through the tiny hands of a 4 year old I saw and felt Him lifting me out of the mire of my exhaustion. I saw Him carrying me. I am
physically tired to be sure. I need His
carrying strength to move through each day.
But the simple beauty of this moment is that I could see God faithfully
carrying me to eternity! It is His grace
and His grace alone that carries me and defines who I was, and am, and will
be. .

On this particular day, it was His grace that invited me to see His hands working through Katelyn’s hands to lift my feet and my soul. It was His grace alone that gave Katelyn unbridled joy over pierced ears and had caused her to lift my feet and my soul.

Perhaps, as a joyful reminder of God’s faithfulness to Katelyn, to me, and all of us who carry and are being carried with God’s grace into eternity, I should get my ear pierced too!

STEVE SCHOON