Do you ever wonder why God allows bad things to happen to us?
I mean, what are you to think when you’ve lost your job through no fault of your own? What if someone you love dearly dies?
Don’t you, like Job, sometimes want to beg God for an answer? Why, God, Why? How could you let this happen to me?
I admit sometimes I want an answer.
It’s unusual for a person to have one rare medical condition (hence the term rare). I have three. In fact, my primary care physician refers to me as “his special patient.” Sometimes when he enters the examination room to see me, I can almost hear him thinking Good grief, what weird thing is wrong with her now?
Anyway, one day I was down at my local HMO for yet another appointment—and of course feeling more than a little sorry for myself. But as I was crossing the parking lot, I stopped dead in my tracks at what I saw across the street.
It was a woman in a wheelchair, the automated kind. She was operating it with one hand. Now, that’s not such an unusual sight.
It was what she was doing with the other hand that had me rooted to the spot.
The other hand held a cane. Not just any cane, mind you, but a cane with a red tip. And she was sweeping it back and forth on the sidewalk in front of her.
What was truly amazing to me was that this woman was all by herself. She was both blind and lame, and she was out and about all by herself.
Perhaps it was just as well that she couldn’t see me staring at her like an idiot, mouth agape. I was flooded with emotions, all of them vying for my attention.
One was pity. Having one handicap is hard. Having two must make every day so difficult.
Another was admiration. What that woman was doing took guts, more guts than I’ll ever have.
But I think the emotion that won out was shame. Okay, I have three rare medical conditions. But it’s possible to live with the three of them. As long as I take my medication, my lifestyle isn’t all that badly affected.
No medication in the world was going to help that woman. That’s how it’s going to be for her the rest of her life.
I don’t know what happened to that woman to put her in that wheelchair with that cane. But, unlike me, she didn’t look like she felt sorry for herself.
Perhaps instead of complaining to God about my problems, I should be thanking Him for not giving me that ones I don’t have. Perhaps, like Job, I should learn to be content with God’s will.