Joni Eareckson Tada: Sharing Hope

Speaker 1

I'm Joni Eareckson Tada with a memory that will make you warm this time of year. This first week of January, it's frigid and snowing. Maybe you're taking advantage of this week before you get back to routines. On Monday, you've gone north to go skiing. A few of our friends are up at Mammoth Mountain in the eastern Sierras right now. Lots of good skiing up there.

You know, I've always enjoyed winter sports when I was on my feet. Things like ice skating, sleigh riding—yep, with a real horse and sled—skiing, and sledding down hills. When I was on my feet, I loved it all. Driving from Maryland all the way up to the mountains or Vermont, I felt as though I were in a scene from *White Christmas*, right there in the snow. But that was then. After my accident, I landed in the wheelchair, and no more winter sports for me.

When January rolled around, I would sit in the farmhouse and see snow swirling out the window, and I'd start thinking about everything I was missing outside. One afternoon, so very long ago, when I was sitting and watching those big flakes outside, I felt so lonely and lost and pitiful. I felt stuck inside. But suddenly, my Uncle Eddie burst into the house with his son. Eddie always called him Little Eddie. Anyway, they were carrying a big package. They opened it up, and my uncle beamed and said, "Look, I've made you a pair of skis, Johnny."

Uncle Eddie, who at that time worked as an engineer for Westinghouse, had fashioned a pair of wide, flat metal skis with small runners that clasped on the wheels of my wheelchair, kind of like a ski boot. Well, he and Little Eddie were so excited for me to try it out on the slope outside the house. Next thing I knew, I was bundled up and sitting at the top of that snow-covered slope with my uncle, and my cousin was kneeling on either side of my chair, securing my wheels to the skis. I was dizzy with excitement. I couldn't believe it. I was going to go skiing in my wheelchair.

With a big whoop, we pushed off, me sailing down that snow-covered slope, laughing and hollering, with Uncle Eddie running alongside to keep up. Little Eddie was kind of on the back of my chair, balancing on the frame like a musher with a sled of dogs. Oh, we must have been a sight! I don't know how many times they pushed me back to the top of that hill, and off we'd go again, sliding through the snow.

You know, that cold January day so long ago added to the many such moments that became little turning points for me emotionally. Yes, of course, the metal skis were fun, and the whole experience did a lot to lift my spirits. But it was my uncle's kindness that touched me the most. I couldn't believe Uncle Eddie and his son went to such effort for me. I mean, I pictured them assessing my situation, putting on their thinking caps to come up with a creative way to get me out of the house and into the snow and the joy of a winter sport. And it was just what I needed that cold, snowy January afternoon.

Once in a while, still, when I read Matthew chapter 25, I imagine a paraphrase of Jesus saying, "I was hungry and you fed me. I was thirsty and you gave me a drink. I was lonely and you took a quadriplegic skiing." Do you know someone with a disability who needs just a little encouragement this winter? Well, put on your thinking cap. Find a way to lift their spirits. Ask God to give you some creative ideas. Who knows? That disabled person may well remember your kindness all through the decades, just as I even now remember Uncle Eddie and my cousin Little Eddie.

And those are your hope-filled words for today.