We are not perfect, but we are good
By Shirley Ragsdale I just raced through the Rev. Robert Molsberry's book, "Blindsided by Grace: Entering the World of Disability," the way he once rode a bicycle across Iowa. The book tells the story of how in a fraction of a second he went from "pumping hard . . . in celebration of power and speed and my sense of control over the environment" to clinging to life, powerless and dependent on others for even his most basic needs. His experience - being dependent after a lifetime of being in control - is one of those you're-getting-older fears many of us share. It's why older drivers fail to relinquish their driver's licenses when they should. Or why some people don't go to the doctor. (If I don't know I'm sick, maybe nothing will be wrong with me.) He just got to this inevitable point at 42, a younger age than most of us do. His book gives readers some spiritual insights into the grace of being dependent upon others. Struck from behind by a pickup truck in May 1997 as he sped along U.S. Highway 6 east of Grinnell, Molsberry's body was shattered by the impact. He battled back from his injuries. But there is no reversing his paralysis. He resumed his ministry and his role in his family. He advocates for people with disabilities. His competitive juices still flow, so he races wheelchairs and handcycles. Molsberry went where we all dread going - a place where we have to ask for help, where we are no longer independent, where we face humiliation and shattered ego. It's a cautionary tale, not about riding a bicycle along a rural highway, but about pride going before the fall. The glory in the book is how far Molsberry was able to rise from the roadside. But for God's sake, don't tell him his story is inspirational. At first flattered by being singled out because of all he had overcome, Molsberry today prefers acceptance over accolades. He said the ability to persevere is the "grace" he gained through his ordeal. "We all have handicaps and we all live normal lives," Molsberry said. "Living with disability is not something to be pitied or healed. It's not heroic. It's not miraculous. It's just coping. It is a natural part of the human condition." As a woman of a "certain" age, I dread the gradual relinquishing of abilities once taken for granted. My beloved Aunt Gladys would sometimes sputter that "old age isn't for sissies!" My father growled that infirmity "is not a pretty picture." Gravity takes its toll on attractiveness. Cancel the subscription to Cosmo. For me, the symptoms of aging herald genetically predetermined losses. Eventually, regardless of what vitamins and exercise we pursue, we lose vigor, sight and hearing. For a time we may rely on technology to maintain independence. But no matter how indomitable our spirit, eventually we will rely on the kindness of family - or strangers. Molsberry jumped the gap between being vital to vulnerable in a flash, but the insight he shares is worthwhile for everyone to absorb: * Vulnerability brings out the best in people - both the needy and the Samaritan - and reminds us that we are all interdependent. * If life were judged by the challenges each of us had overcome, then everyone would be getting extra points for something or other. * There is no essential relationship between disability and health. One can be disabled and healthy or disabled and sick. Molsberry reports he is healthier than he was before the accident. Molsberry's faith never wavered as he fought to live and to carry on. He was supported by a loving wife and family, a loyal congregation, a dedicated community and dedicated medical professionals. He is grateful to them all. He did not discover new spiritual insight from the Bible, however, as it was written in a time when sickness and disability were considered a curse from God, the visiting of demons or a sign of uncleanliness. Lameness, blindness and leprosy condemned one to begging. "Healing" required a miraculous cure. He received comfort from finding that "the Bible gives ample grounds for accepting disability as a natural feature of the human condition." "During the six days of creation, when God made the earth and all that inhabits it, nothing was pronounced "perfect," " Molsberry writes. "At the end of every day, God said, "It is good." Not perfect. If it was good enough for God, it should be good enough for us. "Shot through human existence are weakness, pride, self-centeredness, vulnerability, frailty, even mortality. Short of God, there is no perfection." I take great solace in knowing that I may define normalcy by the current condition of my mind and body. Or, as Oscar Wilde wrote in "The Picture of Dorian Gray," "The aim of life is self-development. To realize one's nature perfectly - that is what each of us is here for." copyright The Des Moines Register Bob currently serves as pastor of the United Church of Christ in Grinnell, Iowa, the town where he grew up.
|
