Today, we would like to thank guest contributor and Home Connections member Kim Hillier for her post. We met through the ministry of Home Connections and have become dear friends. Her perspective on living life with disability in Christ is encouraging.

Last September marked the 20^th anniversary of being confined to a wheelchair.  I was an active, committed, motivated woman with a fulfilling and interesting life when I started falling for no reason.  A muscle biopsy later I was informed that within the next year I would be in a wheelchair full time.  I didn’t beat the odds.  I distinctively remember handing out Halloween candy from my wheelchair.,It was a scary time.  I needed to find a one story home, negotiate with my employer 40 miles away to let me keep my job, cover shopping and personal care, etc.  As time went by I learned to cope, improvise, relinquish my need for personal space and modesty, say good-bye to spontaneity, never enter my friends’ homes, go nowhere except between the times of 7:00 a.m. and 5:00 p.m. Monday through Friday when the handicap bus runs.  Obviously the list goes on.I also had to develop and learn how to emotionally handle these changes.  Instinctively I knew I wanted to be as independent as possible.  To this day I live alone and manage a satisfactory life.  I can be whiny at times, but I just give myself a good talking to and think of those so much worse off than I.   I diligently look for opportunities to laugh and can find them.  I draw spirit from the people around me and because a wheelchair can be so isolating, I take extreme measures to mingle with others as much as possible.  I try to keep myself groomed and dress/accessorize appropriately. The sad truth is however, I sometimes fail.  At times my mostly alone environment leads into over-taking those conversations I do get to enjoy.  I talk and talk and then talk some more.  I can’t believe that after all these years, there’s no inner voice (or external voice) that shouts to me, “SHUT UP”.  As my legs weaken with age, it becomes more frequent to find myself turning down invitations just because they require extra energy.  I have taught myself to say “yes” first and then cancel only if extreme circumstances hold me away.  I don’t want to become housebound just because my body has become more compromised.  Clumsy is a byproduct of the disease and despite trying to be careful, I find myself knocking things down all the time.  I admonish myself to be careful, but still after 20 years, I don’t have that down.  My worst habit is not taking the appropriate speed to complete transfers. That speed is v-e-r-y s-l-o-w-l-y. Sometimes I don’t practice what I preach to myself.  I do have occasional falls or mishaps.  Once I accidentally hit the joystick on my chair while reviewing the contents of my refrigerator.  That propelled me into the refrigerator and my chair was literally stuck between the shelves.  I felt so stupid but was comforted when the Paramedics were so kind helping me out.  They told me this was their first refrigerator rescue.  That paled to the time I was trying to transfer to my chair to get to my closet.  Again, I don’t know what happened, but I fell away from the chair.  My only recourse was to again call the Paramedics.  I was humiliated because I had fallen in the middle of the floor where I could reach nothing but the alert button around my neck.  I did not have to discipline myself as my punishment was three men finding me completed naked on the floor.  Their professionalism was excellent, but I still cringe when I bring that memory to mind.  Sometimes I get so frustrated with myself.  WHY CAN’T I DO BETTER?Almost three weeks ago I was on the side of my bed ready to get up to prepare for church.  Church is my favorite activity of the week.  I have not mentioned God in this writing, but rest assured ANYTHING I can do right is because of His gracious mercy.  I remember the message I always send to myself from the side of the bed:  Be Careful.  I took two steps holding on tightly to a walker and again, I don’t know what happened, but I fell.  This was a different fall because I fell very hard.  My left hip and leg scraped down the pointy edge of a table and then I scouted along the carpet adding rug burns to my injury.  I was dressed in my summer sleep wear which did not protect my skin.  My automatic alert went off spontaneously.  I could barely breathe because of the jolt and my backside was hurting a lot.  When the Paramedics arrived, I denied the need to go to the hospital and so they laid me back into bed.  I quickly turned over onto the less affected side and called my contact person at church to tell him I would not be in Sunday School.  45 minutes later I made a second call saying I wouldn’t be in church at all.I hurt; badly.  I did not think of chastising myself.  This pain was sufficient to keep my mind only on it.  The days passed and the pain continued.  I found myself compromised because to sit in my chair was nearly unbearable.  Even propped up on pillows, the pain from the back of my leg sent jolts of discomfort.  After one week the deep wounds of the rug burn kept me almost completely confined to my bed.  I’d get up and grab a bag, filling it with sufficient water and food to last for a day.  The days lingered and the pain throbbed.  I could only wait for the wound to heal.About a week ago I came back to the bed with my water and food for the day.  I was carefully maneuvering myself to safety when “something” went wrong and to save myself from falling, I dropped the sack so I could fall on the bed.  I landed safely and was still for awhile.  I eventually sat up and saw the disaster on my wooden floor.  The water had fallen from the sack and hit the wooded floor and both bottles were broken open and flooding what seemed to be the entire floor.  I didn’t want the floor damaged so I managed to get back into my chair and throw my spare blanket over the water.  I leaned over to pick up the empty bottles only to find they weren’t empty; not nearly.   Refrigerator cold water was soaking me completely.  I backed up quickly to get away from the wet floor and felt myself run over something.  It was the food sack.  By this time, the sack had been completely submerged by the water.  My leg was throbbing and my plan was to get back in bed in an attempt to gain energy to clean up the mess.  Shivering, I pulled back the covers and carefully put one leg on the bed.  Lifting the second leg up, it got caught in the comforter and fell back on the floor taking the cover with it.  Of course, the water had flowed over towards the bed and was being efficiently absorbed by the comforter I had hoped to cover up with.           Falling back on the bed I started to cry.  I became aggravated with myself.  I never give myself permission to cry over my situation.  That day, however, I could not control the sobs.  Feeling emotionally defeated, cold and in severe pain, three words slipped from my mouth:  “This is hard!”My whole being perked.  What did I just say?  “This is hard.”  It was my sole thought.  Usually I would be berating myself, but somehow those words came out instead.  Why had I said that?  I promised myself I would fight self-pity.  Yet these words brought me the relief and freedom of a confession.  Internally I knew something significant was happening.  I realized my double decade of criticizing myself was another burden to put on my list.  Admitting my life and circumstances were hard brought a certain peace.  My mind went directly to scripture where Christ warned us hard times would come and then promised He would be always by our sides. I think of the thousands of prayers I’ve sent up asking Him to come to me.  I often felt His help and comfort.  Now I realize a greater truth.  My hardships don’t take Him by surprise and by recognizing their existence I can rest in His arms.I know this is by far not the best manuscript I’ve ever written.  But I wanted to share the freedom there is in identifying and owning the truths in life and leaving behind the accusations and punishment of yourself and others.  It’s okay to reconcile with the difficulties of your life, especially if they’re HARD.