Joni Eareckson Tada: Sharing Hope

Guest (Male): Welcome to Joni Eareckson Tada: Sharing Hope. Here's our friend Joni with a sweet story for Mother's Day.

Joni Eareckson Tada: And it's a story for any mom who's going through a painful trial or who still has a thorn in her heart from a past wound, like my own mother, Lindy Eareckson. When I broke my neck, that tragedy became her painful trial as much as mine. Of course, I didn't realize what a broken neck meant. I was just a teenager. To me, paralysis was something that would wear off in time, but my mother knew differently.

So, the painful thorn of my life-altering injury went far deeper into her heart than it did into mine. Over time, though, that thorn sank deeper into me as I began to understand the permanency of my paralysis. While I was in the hospital, I read a little book that helped me adjust, and it was that Christian classic—maybe you've read it—*Hinds' Feet on High Places* by Hannah Hurnard. Perhaps you've heard of it, and if not, it's really something worth reading, especially if you're struggling through pain or hardship in your walk with Christ.

My mother was blessed by it too. *Hinds' Feet* is the story of the Good Shepherd's love for a little lame young woman named Much-Afraid. Let me share with you our favorite part where the Shepherd wants to give this lame girl a little seed. Much-Afraid bent forward to look. Then she gave a startled little cry and drew back. There was indeed a seed lying in the palm of the Shepherd's hand, but it was shaped exactly like a long, sharply pointed thorn.

She said shrinkingly, "This seed looks very sharp. Won't it hurt if you put it into my heart?" And the Shepherd answered gently, "It is so sharp that it slips in very quickly, but Much-Afraid, I have already warned you that love and pain go together, for a time at least. If you would know love, you must know pain as well." Much-Afraid looked at the thorn and shrank from it. Then she looked at the Shepherd's face and repeated his words to herself: "When the seed of love in your heart is ready to bloom, you will be loved in return."

And then a strange new courage entered her. She suddenly stepped forward, bared her heart and said, "Please, then, plant the seed here in my heart." Then the Shepherd pressed the thorn deep into her heart, and it was true. It did cause a piercing pain, but it slipped in quickly. And then suddenly, a sweetness she had never felt before tingled through her. It was bittersweet, but the sweetness was stronger. Her pale, sallow cheeks suddenly glowed pink and her eyes shone, and for a moment, Much-Afraid did not look afraid at all.

You know, reading that, I can say that was me, and that excerpt from the book also describes my mother. When I broke my neck, both of us learned that joy and pain go together. Peace and suffering do as well. And Tim Keller has said, "The joy of the Lord does not come after the sorrow. It does not come after the weeping. The weeping drives you into the joy. It enhances the joy. And then, the joy enables you to actually feel your grief without it sinking you. And then you find you are finally emotionally healthy."

That's what happened to me and my mother, and it's why for me, Mother's Day always has in it a hint of sorrow, but a lot of joy. So for you, mom listening, you who may yet still feel the thorn in your heart, let it drive you into the arms of your Good Shepherd. When you do, this Mother's Day may well be bittersweet, but the sweetness will be all the stronger. And Lindy Eareckson would agree.