Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: Purposefulness (Purpose in Life) (05/25/06)
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TITLE: Paralyzed With Purpose | Previous Challenge Entry
By Theresa Veach
06/01/06 -
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After a long silence he began to speak, slowly, softly-- adamantly. I leaned in closely to catch his every word. His weakness commanded my attention. His brokenness demanded my respect. He smiled wryly. He had given over his entire life to God. He had answered God’s calling at a young age and had become a pastor long before I was ever born.
His eyes glistened at the thought of it all. Or were those tears forming? He spoke about all the scripture passages he had once been able to quote, all the sermons he had preached, all the people he had counseled and comforted. He wasn’t ready to stop being used for God’s glory now. His life had purpose. God-given purpose.
Then came the stroke.
The doctors said that by all rights he should have died. Living through such a massive hemorrhage was a miracle, a gift from God. A gift from God? “Yes, God still must have a purpose for your life” everyone would say. A purpose? What purpose? How could God possibly use this paralyzed body? That wry smile again. “Watch this.” His gaze remained on his folded hands. Almost imperceptibly we watched as his fingers began to move. First one, then two, then a third—perhaps a third, it was difficult to tell. That was all he had left of his own volition. My own eyes glistened as I watched his fingers stop moving altogether. Tears were now definitely forming.
“I have no idea what purpose God could possibly have for me now. I can’t move. I can’t write. I can barely speak let alone preach. I am worthless. I am useless.” I let his fragile voice penetrate my heart. Sorrow mixed with confusion moved through me. Suddenly I was acutely aware of my own hands, my legs, my feet. I was aware that I could move. I could move my fingers and stretch out my hands. I could stand up. I could just get up and walk out of this place and away from all this pain if I wanted to.
I was acutely aware that he couldn’t.
God’s plan. God’s purpose.
How many times had I complained that God’s purpose for my life was just too difficult for me to fulfill? How many times had I wanted to forsake God’s purpose for my life and follow after my own selfish desires instead? I looked down again at his hands, his legs, his feet. These daily visits with him were my purpose. Caring for him, loving him, staying with him through all the pain, that was my purpose.
For the first time in months he looked me straight in the eye.
His spirit pierced through me like a sword of sunlight. With that one look, I could feel the power of God touch me. With that one look, I was changed, strengthened somehow to go on with God’s purpose for my life. His flesh may have been struck down and paralyzed, but his spirit had been made stronger than ever before. He was by no means finished with the purpose for his life. It was my turn to look down. I couldn’t look at him, ashamed I guess of my inner vulnerability. I took his lifeless hands in mine.
“I need you to know that God still does have a purpose for your life. I need you to know that with one look into your eyes you changed me. You made me stronger. You gave me the strength to carry out God’s purpose for my own life. With one look into your eyes I could see—no feel—that your body may be paralyzed but your spirit is alive and dancing with the power and the glory of the living God dwelling within you.”
I raised my head and looked him straight in the eye.
“Daddy, with just one look into your eyes my heart heard the best sermon you’ve ever preached.”
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I liked the parallels you drew between the father's shame of his outer vulnerability and the daughter's shame of her inner vulnerability. Those kind of parallels make this piece more powerful.
Watch your use of -ly adverbs; can you remove some without losing the meaning, or can a more powerful verb be chosen that would give that same meaning?
That ending line was perfect: "the best sermon you've ever preached." I wouldn't be surprised to see this in the top 40.
I agree about the Golden Pen.
Blessings!
Trina