“At that moment,” she told a reporter, “I knew it was possible to save him.”
Marie let everyone know that her son had called to her from under the rubble, but no one was able to help her. But when international groups of rescue workers arrived, she was able to find an experienced team of engineers. She convinced them that her son was still alive. Using their equipment and knowledge, they cut through steel, concrete, and debris at exactly the spot where she’d heard her son’s voice.
They kept digging until they uncovered Emmanuel’s hand. He was reaching out to them. They continued until they freed his shoulder and they were able to pull him out. He had been buried for ten days. He was severely dehydrated, covered in dust, and very hungry, but he survived.
Sometimes all you will have is your belief that anything is possible, that miracles can happen. As it was for Marie, the world around you may be in chaos, but you should not give in to despair. Instead, believe that whatever you lack, God will provide! That belief spurred Marie to action. Her actions brought her within reach of her son’s voice. It’s not a stretch to recognize that Marie’s hope kept Emmanuel alive, is it?
Life may not be going well for you now, but as long as you are here, as long as you press forward, anything is possible.
LIVE WITH HOPE IN YOUR HEART
You may be skeptical that anything is possible by hanging on to hope. Or perhaps you have been brought down so low that finding the strength to crawl out of your despair seems impossible. There was a time when I felt exactly that way. I was absolutely convinced that my life would never be of value and that I would only be a burden to those I loved.
My parents were not prepared for a child without limbs when I was born, and as a result they were despondent. Who could blame them? Every mother and father tries to envision the future for the children they bring into the world. My parents had difficulty projecting what sort of future I would have, and as I grew older, so did I.
We all have at times seen our vision for our lives crash into a cruel reality like a speeding car into a brick wall. The particulars of your experience may be unique, but situations of despair are all too human. Teens often e-mail me stories of abuse and neglect ripping apart their families. Adults share stories in which drugs or alcohol or pornography have left them crippled. Some days it seems like half the people I talk to are dealing with cancer or some other life-threatening medical condition.
How do you stay hopeful in such situations? You trust in God, remember that you are here for a reason, and dedicate yourself to fulfilling that purpose. Whatever challenge you are facing, you are blessed in ways that will help you find a way through it. Just think of my parents and of the hopelessness that they once faced.
BELIEVE IN THE BEST
Remaining positive and motivated when your burden feels unbearable is undoubtedly difficult. When I became old enough to understand the challenges awaiting me, I was often haunted by despair and couldn’t begin to imagine that anything positive lay in store for me. My memories of the darkest days of my childhood are hazy. I was going through one of those periods when being different was particularly tough. I’m sure you have experienced those self-doubts too. We all want to fit in, but at times we all feel like outsiders.
My insecurities and doubts sprang mostly from the physical challenges of having no arms or legs. I cannot know what your concerns are, but hanging on to hope helped me. Here is just one, early experience of how it worked in my world:
I was just a toddler when my medical team recommended that my parents put me in a play group with other kids labeled “disabled.” Their challenges ranged from missing limbs to cystic fibrosis and severe mental disorders. My parents had great love and empathy for other special needs kids and their families, but they don’t think any child should be limited to one group of playmates. They held on to the conviction that my life would have no limits, and they fought to keep that dream alive.
My mother, bless her, made an important decision at an early stage of my life. “Nicholas, you need to play with normal children because you are normal. You just have a few bits and pieces missing, that’s all,” she said, setting the tone for years to come. She didn’t want me to feel less than normal or restricted in any way. She didn’t want me to become introverted, shy, or insecure just because I was different physically.
Little did I realize that my parents were even then instilling in me the belief that I had every right to a life free of labels and restrictions. You have that right too. You should demand to be free of whatever categorizations or limits others try to put on you. Because of my missing bits and pieces, I am sensitive to the fact that some people accept what others say about them and even unconsciously restrict themselves. There certainly were times when I was tired or cranky and tried to claim that studying or going to the doctor was just too taxing, but my parents refused to let me hide behind that.
Labels can provide a tempting hiding place. Some people use them as excuses. Others rise above them. Many, many people have been labeled “handicapped” or “disabled,” only to soar above, enjoying dynamic lives and doing important things. I encourage you to rise above any attempt to restrict you from exploring and developing your gifts.
As a child of God, I know that He is always with me, and I’m comforted to know that He understands how much we can bear. When others share stories with me of their own challenges and trials, I’m often moved to tears. I remind those who are suffering or grieving that God’s arm is never too short. He can reach anyone.
Draw strength from that. Dare to give it a go and to soar as high as your imagination will take you. You can expect challenges. Welcome them as “character-building experiences.” Learn from them and rise above them. You may have an excellent dream. Just be open-minded enough to accept that God may have a different path for you than the one you envisioned. There are many ways to reach your dream, so don’t be discouraged if you can’t yet see the way on your own.
BIONIC BOY
Hope is a catalyst. It can even move obstacles that seem immovable. When you keep pushing, refusing to give up, you create momentum. Hope creates opportunities you never would have anticipated. Helpful people are drawn to you. Doors open. Paths are cleared.
Remember—action brings reaction. When you are tempted to abandon your dreams, push yourself to continue one more day, one more week, one more month, and one more year. You will be amazed at what happens when you refuse to quit.
When it came time for me to begin elementary school, my parents again lobbied for me to have a typical education. As a result of their unyielding conviction, I became one of the first disabled children in Australia to “mainstream” into the regular school system. I did so well in the mainstream school that the local newspaper ran a story with the headline “Integration lets disabled boy blossom.” The story, accompanied by a big photograph of my sister Michelle riding with me in my wheelchair, set off a national media blitz that brought visits from government officials, cards, letters, gifts, and invitations from across the country.
The donations that flowed in after that newspaper story helped fund my parents’ efforts to equip me with replacement limbs. They’d been trying to fit me with artificial limbs since I was eighteen months old. My first prosthesis was just one arm, which didn’t work well for me. The arm and hand were operated mechanically with pulleys and levers, and it weighed about twice as much as all the rest of me!
Just keeping my balance with this contraption on was a challenge. I managed to operate it after a while. I’d already become adept at grabbing objects with my little foot, my chin, or my teeth, so the bionic arm seemed only to make daily chores more difficult. My parents were disappointed at first, but my confidence grew because I felt good about doing so well on my own. I encouraged them and thanked them and looked ahead.
There is power in perseverance. Our first experiment with an artificial limb failed, but I continued to believe my life would work out for the best. My optimism and high spirits inspired
our community Lions Club, an international service organization, to raise more than $200,000 for my medical bills and a new wheelchair. Some of those funds also helped us travel to Toronto, Canada, to try a more advanced set of electronic arms developed by a children’s clinic. In the end, however, even the medical experts decided that I managed to accomplish most tasks more efficiently on my own without the aid of prosthetics.
I was excited that there were scientists and inventors intent on providing me with limbs someday. But I became all the more determined to do whatever I could without waiting for someone else to find something that would improve my life—I had to find my own answers. Even today I welcome anyone who helps me, whether it is opening a door for my wheelchair or giving me a drink from a glass of water. We need to take responsibility for our own happiness and success. Your friends and family may reach out to you in times of need. Be grateful for that. Welcome their efforts, but keep pushing on your own too. The more effort you put into it, the more opportunities you create.
Sometimes you may feel like you are just about to realize your goal only to fall short. That is no reason to quit. Defeat happens only to those who refuse to try again. I still believe that one day I will be able to walk and lift and hold utensils like a regular person. It will be a miracle when that happens, whether God does it on His own or through his agents on earth. The technology for robotic limbs is advancing rapidly. Someday I may be able to wear prosthetic arms and legs that work efficiently, but for now I’m happy to be just as I am.
Often the very challenges that we think are holding us back are, in fact, making us stronger. You should be open to the possibility that today’s handicap might be tomorrow’s advantage. I’ve come to see my lack of limbs as an asset. Men, women, and children who can’t speak my language only have to see me to know that I have overcome many challenges. My lessons, they know, did not come easily.
WISDOM BORN OF EXPERIENCE
When I tell my audiences to hold on for better days, I speak from experience. You can believe and trust in what I say because I have been there. At one point in my life I gave up hope.
This low point in my mostly happy childhood came around the age of ten, when negative thoughts overwhelmed me. No matter how optimistic and determined and inventive I tried to be, there were some tasks I just could not do. Some of them were simple, everyday activities. It really bothered me, for example, that I couldn’t grab a soda out of the refrigerator like every other kid. I couldn’t feed myself, and I hated to ask other people to do it. I felt bad that they had to interrupt their meals to help me.
Other, bigger issues haunted me in this period of my life: Would I ever find a wife to love me? How would I provide for her and our children? How could I protect them if they were threatened?
Most people have such thoughts. You probably have wondered at some point whether you would ever have a lasting relationship, a secure job, or a safe place to live. It is normal and healthy to look ahead because that is how we develop a vision for our lives. The problem comes when negative thoughts block your vision for the future and cloud your mind. I pray and I remind myself of the word of God, who helps me know that He is with me. He never leaves me. He hasn’t forgotten me. He will cause even the worst things to come together for the good. I remind myself to hold on to the promises of God, no matter what I see on the outside. I know that God is good. If He allows something bad to happen, I may not understand, but I can hold on to His goodness.
MONITOR YOUR THOUGHTS
As my eleventh birthday approached, I entered the tricky adolescent stage when our brains rewire and strange chemicals flow through out bodies. Other boys and girls my age were starting to pair up, which added to my growing sense of alienation. Would any girl ever want a boyfriend who couldn’t hold her hand or dance with her?
Without even being aware of it, I allowed those dark thoughts and negative feelings to burden my spirit with growing frequency. Often they came creeping into my mind late at night when I couldn’t sleep, or when I was tired after a long day at school. You know the feeling; you are so weary and out of sorts that the whole world seems to be weighing on your shoulders. We all experience down times, especially when lack of sleep, illness, and other challenges make us vulnerable.
No one is happy and perky one hundred percent of the time. Your more somber moods are natural. They serve a purpose too. According to recent psychological studies, a darker mood can make you look at your work more critically and analytically. That outlook is helpful when you are involved in tasks like balancing your checkbook, figuring out your taxes, or editing a paper. As long as you are aware and in control of your emotions, negative thoughts can produce positive consequences. Only when you let your emotions control your actions do you risk spiraling down into depression and self-destructive behaviors.
The key is to refuse to be overwhelmed or swept away by negative emotions or feelings of depression. Fortunately, you have that power to adjust your attitude. When you detect negative thoughts running through your mind, you can choose to hit the “off” switch. Acknowledge them and understand their source, but stay focused on the solutions instead of on the problems. I remember from Bible class a picture of the “whole armor of God” with the breastplate of righteousness, the belt of truth, the shield of faith, the sword of the Spirit, and the helmet of salvation. I’d learned that those were all the weapons that a Christian boy would ever need. I see the word of God as a sword to fight negative thoughts. The sword is the Bible. You also hold up the shield of faith to defend yourself.
SPIRAL OF DESPAIR
At that critical age of adolescence when self-esteem and self-image are so important, I let my worries and fears overtake me. Everything that was wrong with me overpowered all that was right.
I drew the short straw. How will I ever lead a normal life with a job, a wife, and kids? I will always be a burden to those around me.
I was never crippled until I lost hope. Believe me, the loss of hope is far worse than the loss of limbs. If you have ever experienced grief or depression, you know just how bad despair can be. More than ever I felt angry, hurt, and confused.
I prayed, asking God why He couldn’t give me what He’d given everyone else. Did I do something wrong? Is that why you don’t answer my prayers for arms and legs? Why won’t you help me? Why do you make me suffer?
Neither God nor my doctors could explain to me why I’d been born without arms or legs. The lack of an explanation, even a scientific one, only made me feel worse. I kept thinking that if there was some reason, spiritual, medical, or otherwise, it might be easier to handle. The pain might not be so great.
Many times I felt so low that I refused to go to school. Self-pity hadn’t been a problem before. I had been constantly striving to overcome my disability, to do normal activities, to play as other kids played. Most of the time I impressed my parents, my teachers, and my classmates with my determination and self-sufficiency. Yet I harbored hurt inside.
I’d been raised as a spiritual kid. I’d always gone to church and believed in prayer and God’s healing power. I was so into Jesus that when we had dinner, I’d smile, thinking of Him with us there at the table, sitting in our empty chair while we ate. I prayed for arms and legs. For a while I expected to wake up some morning with arms and legs. I’d settle for just getting one arm or leg at a time. When they did not appear, I grew angry with God.
I thought I’d figured out God’s purpose in creating me, which was to be His partner in a miracle so the world would recognize that He was real. I would pray: “God, if you gave me arms and legs, I would go around the world and share the miracle. I would go on national television and tell everyone what had happened, and the world would see the power of God.” I was telling Him that I got it and was willing to follow through on my end. I remember praying, God, I know You made me this way so You could give me arms and legs and the miracle would prove to people Your power and love.
As a child, I learned that God speaks to us in many ways.
I felt he might answer me by placing a feeling in my heart. But there was only silence. I felt nothing.
My parents would tell me, “Only God knows why you were born this way.” Then I’d ask God, and He wouldn’t tell me. These unfulfilled appeals and unanswered questions hurt me deeply because I had felt so close to God before.
I had other challenges to face. We were moving a thousand miles north, up the coast to Queensland, away from my huge family. My protective cocoon of aunts and uncles and twenty-six cousins was being stripped away. The stress of moving was wearing on my parents too. Despite their assurances and their love and support, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was a tremendous burden to them.
It was as though I’d put on dark blinders that prevented me from seeing any light in my life. I couldn’t see how I could ever be of use to anyone. I felt I was just a mistake, a freak of nature, God’s forgotten child. My dad and mum did their best to tell me otherwise. They read to me from the Bible. They took me to church. My Sunday school teachers taught that God loves us all. But I couldn’t move beyond my pain and anger.
There were brighter moments. In Sunday school I felt joy when I joined my classmates singing, “ ‘Jesus loves the little children, all the children of the world, red and yellow black and white, they are precious in His sight, and Jesus loves the little children of the world.’ ” Surrounded by people who supported and loved me, I took that hymn to heart. It comforted me.
I wanted to believe that He cared for me deeply, but then when I was tired or not feeling well, the dark thoughts would creep in. I’d sit in my wheelchair on the playground wondering: If God really loves me like all the other children, then why didn’t He give me arms and legs? Why did He make me so different from His other children?