Last Sunday, our little private oasis was abruptly disturbed when our names were heard over the microphone, being called down to the front. It would take a whole other blog post to describe our feelings at that moment, but shock was at the top of the list. Being kept in the dark, we thought we were going to have a meeting with our non-profit, Helping Hope, Inc., after church that day to discuss how we were going to raise the $10,000 that we were lacking toward buying our wheelchair accessible van. I had no idea, however, that a charity, Therapy 2000, had picked up that large chunk of change many weeks before. The van had been purchased, and was sitting behind a curtain on the stage of my church. This information was all unknown to me, so when I began my walk to the stage, thoughts flooded my head with what could possibly be happening.
(1 Peter 5:6-7)
My obstacle created an opportunity for God's love and power to be seen through so many. That concept pretty much blindsided my entire family.
If only everyone could see what wondrous works could come from one simple life of a child who has no idea of their own impact on the ones around them. No, she won’t excel at a sport, go to college, start a business, become a teacher, or cure a disease. These are examples of the traditional meaning of the word “contribute”. What Elise has to give to society is something that won’t earn her a trophy, get her a job, or impress those around her. Her value, other than bringing me great happiness, is in how Christ uses her life to affect those around her.
It didn’t have to end this way for me to see Christ at work. This was an extremely large, obvious example of what people with a heart for others and a desire for Christ can do. Receiving the van was a very public, obvious statement of the unity we can all create as fellow believers and human beings. But, what everyone else doesn’t see are the innumerable blessings that God has bestowed on our family throughout the years. This van is not where the evidence of God’s grace began for us, and it isn’t the end. It’s smack-dab in the middle of what will be a lifetime of Christ’s image being seen in my daughter and those who care around her.