Crippled is Beautiful

I am concerned about how people view things outside themselves. At first, a grip of friends and acquaintances who saw me rolling around in a wheelchair thought i was joking. The other day one said, "You don't look disabled... you are a pretty girl." And that set me off.


So are you saying that there is an ugly meter determining whether or not one can have a disability? Are you saying disabled people are ugly? Or are you saying that because there is no visual evidence of a disability you cannot wrap your mind around it?

Amazingly enough, that whole rant (and more that isn't appropriate to repeat) happened within my inner monologue as i took a deep breath, then i smiled and explained the situation.

I guess most people do see in black and white. You are paralyzed or you are not. You are born with a disability or you are not. I can move my limbs and they look 'normal' so that confuses people. I was a very active person and as a result of no crazy accident i have chronic pain. That confuses people, i get it. But look at the colors people! The world is not black and white, pretty and ugly. Those components exist, yes; but there is so much more! There is fuchsia, cochineal, canary yellow and indigo (okay, enough euphemism), one can occur inside the other. I mean really, we know this! There is the person who is, by society's standards, beautiful - but that person is crazy or extremely self-absorbed. Then you have the person with cerebral palsy who is brilliant and compassionate.
I don't think God works in stereotypes. I doubt very much that He decides how lives will unfold according to their shell. Take the Ultimate Example for example.
It is the heart that matters. I guess my point is, next time something confuses you, ask yourself:
"Why am i confused?"
"Who/what is the source of this thinking?"
"Does everything look the way i think it should look?"
"What is gong on underneath the surface?"

I sat in dance class today, watching the others glide across the floor as i sat in my scooter wracked with pain. Yes i was frustrated, but not because i couldn't dance. Dance is worship, expression and flows naturally out of me. Although i am incredibly happy when i dance, Arnie has given me lasting joy. I know the beauty of humbility (okay i just made up a word but you get the picture). The things i have learned in a wheelchair are immeasurable in comparison to what i've learned on the dance floor.

Most days i would not trade my cripple body for anything. I know that i was far uglier three years ago, before Arnie came to take.