Becoming Disabled

I have made a total of eight trips to Sierra Leone over the past three years, some a couple weeks long, some a couple months. It seems the journey crossing into my different worlds, different identities, different personas, is starting to become easier. Nonetheless when I cross into my African life, I am turned disabled along the journey. I have to laugh because I feel like I was pricked again by this point on my flight from Chicago to Brussels on my way to Sierra Leone last week. I was running the transition through my head as I sat there quietly on the plane, thinking about how to mentally prepare myself for becoming disabled.

As the flight attendants wheeled the carts down the aisle, it was finally my turn to get asked by the very friendly looking flight attendant, “chicken or beef?” I asked for chicken, and as the woman went to hand me the tray with food on it, I accidentally stuck my thumb in the salad dish flipping salad all over myself and the seat next to me (thankfully unoccupied). Embarrassed, I quickly picked up the lettuce strewn everywhere and apologized for my clumsiness. As she bent down to help me, I saw her take a look at my arm, and her demeanor changed. She apologized profusely, assured me that my accident was all her fault, and then proceeded to try to open my food for me, butter my roll and tuck me in with a blanket. I saw her best intentions in her very visible display of empathy, so I responded by doing what anyvery mature young woman would do…. I asked her if she would burp me like a baby later as well….. Just kidding! The rebel in me said that in my head, while I just thanked her for her kindness and assured her I could do all those things independently. One of the biggest areas the Lord continues to refine in me through the ministry of Women of Hope is my pride and my independence. He rejoices when I am disabled in Him.

I feel naked often because I wear my heart for this ministry on my sleeve… literally. I want women to know their value is not in how independently we can do things, the perceptions of others or what society says about beauty because those are some of the things I truly cherish inmy relationship with my Savior.

One of the lessons we take the women through in Community Health Evangelism training is called Disability: A Calling or Curse. In the lesson we hear the story of a blind man who Jesus and the disciples encounter. One of the disciples asks, “Rabbi who sinned, the man or his parents that he should be born blind?” (John 9)

Living in the Sierra Leonean context, this story makes so much more sense to me. People in Jesus’ time thought disability was a direct result of a person’s sin or that of their parents. I would assume that the underlying belief about a blind man is that he carried no value because he was seen as a burden to society and one with an extremely limited ability to contribute to the community. In the eyes of Jesus’ disciples, this man was cursed by God with a disability.

In the passage Jesus addressed his disciples by saying, “It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him.”

Today I see this blind man as my brother in Christ. As Jesus restored his sight, the blind man was transformed from one with no purpose in life except to beg for the charity of others. Hewas a nuisance to society and one who brought shame on the family as people like the disciples (men pursuing the very heart of Christ) looked on and questioned the integrity of him and his family to deserve such a fate as being born blind or giving birth to a blind son. He was turned into a conduit of hope for others, a member of the body of Christ with a valuable role to play as he was sent out, and one who now worships a God of miracles, a God who restores hope and purpose.

I felt like a fly on the wall as Jesus’ encounter was lived out before my eyes last week. We are hosting a small team of women who conducted some skills training classes for the women in order to helpwith our fair trade program. We’re working with the women on developing new skills to make products that can be sold in Sierra Leone and abroad to generate income. Over all there were 27 women who were taught knitting, patch-working, card making and loom knitting. All the women had various disabilities, but my favorite class to work with was by far, the blind women.

There were a total of seven women in the loom knitting class and all but one were blind. After the first day of loom knitting class, Marianne, the woman teaching it realized this particular class might need more one-on-one assistance; so I offered to learn. Those who know me well are aware of the fact that I’m not of the artsy-fartsy type, but I wanted to see how it could be done.

As I learned, I practiced with my eyes closed to try and manipulate the loom and figure out how best to support a blind woman in accomplishing the task. I tried over and over again to feel the yarn, holding the loom different ways, changing the positioning of the hook and practicing over again. I was able to manipulate everything well with my eyes opened, but when I tried to do it blindly, I inevitably made a mistake that I wasn’t able to catch leading to the ruin of the hat. I went to bed that night frustrated and skeptical that our women would actually be able to do it.

I came into class the next day and sat with my friend, Mariatu. I said a prayer, and then watched as she attempted to learn. I helped lead her hand at first, and then let her go, occasionally giving her verbal instructions. It was messy at first. Row by row, she very carefully wrapped the yarn around the pegs, feeling each strand and taking much effort to meticulously place the yarn properly. She would ask me to check each row for mistakes, and I would guide her fingers to allow her to make corrections. As I looked around the room, all the women slowly worked in a similar fashion as they began to conquer these looms. All the women worked tediously, staring into the air, with a smile on their face as they began to independently knit their caps. One-by-one, they would raise their completed caps in the air, and the whole group would clap and yell out of excitement over what they had accomplished. In that moment I was so extremely proud to be identified as a woman with a disability. In that moment I felt as though God said, “Kels, these women were born blind so that today you could see just one display of my works in them.”

There is something that can’t really be spoken of as we watch the human spirit (God’s very breath, breathed into us at creation) triumph over situations that could be crippling. Our staff member, Adama Conteh said, “Most able-bodied people don’t have the patience to teach us because we’re blind. We’re so happy to learn a new skill that we can use for ourselves.” As we all celebrated the hard work, perseverance and beauty of character displayed in that room, I couldn’t help but praise God for His creation in these courageous women.

So let us be disabled before a loving God. Let us wrestle with His character as we look at disability and suffering today. Let us seek the joy only He can give us in our sufferings, and let us sprint after His plans and purposes for our lives.