Tag: help

Daring to Give

Daring to Give

“But I can’t do that thing,” said the lady as she waved her arms around. She meant sign language. I had asked her if I could sit beside her in a church service, and share her books for the songs and readings. This would help me follow and, in the case of the songs, leave my hands free to sign them.

It is a privilege to guest blog for this site. I was asked to pick out a key way the church has played a part in my journey, and the above story sprang immediately to mind. Because it’s a story of someone doing what she could, despite at first being concerned about what she couldn’t.

Since I was diagnosed with NF2*, and subsequently lost the ability to do various things, including hear, people doing what they can for me have been vital to my journey. People who pray for me. People who speak clearly for me to lipread them. People who carry my cup of tea for me (I have bad balance). People who welcome me. People who are patient. And much, much more.

On a family holiday in the Lake District last August, we decided to climb up to a waterfall. On balance (pardon the pun), it would have been sensible for me to stay behind. But my seven-year-old niece came to me and took my hand; “I’ll help you walk.” And she did. For as far as she was able, and then her mummy took over. My niece couldn’t physically help me over the really difficult parts, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t help. She went in front and told me when there were rocks to avoid tripping on. She did what she could. The lady at church, and my niece, looked beyond what they couldn’t do to what they could. Acknowledging the ‘can’t’, and embracing the ‘can’.

After the service – during which I did share the lady’s books – I thanked her for helping me. She took my hand and, putting ’genuine’ into the word genuine, she said, “It was my pleasure.” It was my pleasure. She really meant it, I could tell. Helping me – yes, me – had given her pleasure. She hadn’t found me a nuisance, or an embarrassment, or an inconvenience.

Often, I can be apologetic, thinking I’m making life difficult for people, hesitant to ask for help. But, if I hadn’t asked, that lady would have missed out on saying ‘it’s my pleasure’ and meaning it. If I hadn’t accepted my niece’s help, if I’d pushed her away, then yes, I’d have missed out on the waterfall. But more than that, I’d have rejected her gift to me. And potentially discouraged her from offering to give to me, or others, in future.

  • Remember that our Lord Jesus said, “More blessings come from giving than from receiving.” Acts 20:35b

By daring to allow ourselves to be vulnerable, to ask for help, to admit our weaknesses, we offer people opportunity for blessing. Opportunity to give to us, and so receive what is better. And, in a glorious paradox, as we offer that opportunity, we, too, are giving. We, too, are blessed. We, too, do what is better. And we become more and more caught up in the body of Christ, of which each one of us is a part (cf 1 Corinthians 12). Growing together.

  • In Him (Christ Jesus) the whole building is joined together and rises to become a holy temple in the Lord. And in him you too are being built together to become a dwelling in which God lives by his Spirit.. Ephesians 2:21, 22

How good are we at allowing others to give?

Emily sometimes describes herself as a professional patient. She has spent a fair bit of her life in hospital and knows more medical jargon than she ever wished to. Thankfully for her, this is offset by an amazing medical team.
Emily is an author and speaker. Most of her books have been written, at least in part, from a hospital/recuperation bed and, she hopes, are more accessible than above mentioned jargon. For more information, please see the links below.

Emily’s books: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Emily-Owen/e/B01EWPKC9W?ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1&qid=1569511001&sr=8-1
*More about NF2: https://nervetumours.org.uk/what-are-nerve-tumours/what-is-nf2
Emily’s website: http://www.emily-owen.co.uk/

The Painphone

The Painphone

Over the last week when my pain has been too bad to do anything else, I have watched films. One such film is ‘The Fault in Our Stars’, originally a book written by John Green, which I have seen before but for the first time, a certain line really spoke to me – “Pain demands to be felt”. As I heard those words, I was squirming around my bed trying to get comfortable and it suddenly resonated with me on a new level. The more I mulled the words over in my head, I realised I had read something similar elsewhere. C.S Lewis once said, “Pain insists upon being attended to. God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our consciences, but shouts in our pains. It is his megaphone to rouse a deaf world.”

We are taught that pain is our body’s way of notifying us that something is not quite right and that a continuous or worsening pain is something worth getting checked out. I learnt this lesson the hard way by trusting an expert opinion for over 10 years which said ‘it’s just acid reflux’ only to finally be told years later after falling into the arms of a receptionist in tears due to the severity of pain I was experiencing that I actually had a rare condition which causes severe pain and dysphagia. Pain demands to be felt. We can sometimes ignore it for a while, but if its important, our bodies will keep alerting us to it until steps are taken to fix the problem.

I am guilty of being a desperate pray-er. I am not good at praying thank you and praise prayers to God, but I sure do pray desperation, ‘I can’t do this anymore, take this pain away now’ sort of prayers. Pain causes me to take notice of God again and turn to Him when sometimes, I have not done so for some time. In an article about C.S.Lewis, Jana Harmon wrote, ‘Pain takes away our false sense of happiness, draws our attention to God and our need for Him. Even in “good, decent people,” the illusion of self-sufficiency must be shattered. And, like a good and loving Father, God is willing to accept whatever surrender and sacrifice we have to offer.’

We can so easily be distracted by the earthly things, and by our desire for control, that we lose track of God, particularly on days when life is good and we don’t have issues with our health, the trains run on time, we don’t get into arguments with our loved ones, money isn’t a problem and the sun is shining. But God isn’t just a HELP button. He is there all the time and wants to be part of our lives and recognised for who He is. If quiet whispers in the night don’t work, nor conversation in the coffee shop, God won’t put off using the megaphone.

I have read stories about people who have great lives, great friends, great health, great jobs, lots of money and they die happy and healthy, but never know Jesus because they don’t feel the need for Him in their perfect lives. Then there are those who struggle through life and find that they NEED Jesus to get through it. but when they die, they spend eternity in Heaven with Him. Some people accuse Christians of using God as a crutch, as if pain causes someone to conjure up an imaginary friend who if you believe is there, will create a placebo effect, making you think you are better when really, you just believe you are, therefore, the symptoms lessen or go away completely.

My calling out in desperation to God could look like using God as a crutch but I know He’s there in my pain so when it ‘demands to be felt’, I know God might be calling out to me butt He is there for me to lean on when I need Him. Sometimes its just a sense of peace, sometimes He sends someone else to keep me company or to bring pain relief in tablet form, and sometimes He makes the pain miraculously go away. Whatever people call it, a crutch, a miracle, I believe God uses our pain to help us keep focused on Him and if that is what it takes to bring me back to Him, I am okay with that because I know He will respond. Now I just need to work on listening to Him without the use of the megaphone…. I don’t want to wear it out too soon!