I had a dream the other night, a small portion of which included my seeing a group of paraplegic athletes racing in their wheelchairs. They were laughing and enjoying life. None of them seemed focused on or distraught by their disabilities. Although a paralyzed person obviously cannot forget the fact that they are confined to a wheelchair, those in my dream clearly did not see their identity as “disabled.” They were normal people who get around differently than most of us.
Many of us, see ourselves as disabled – not necessarily physically, nor with anything diagnosable, but disabled, nonetheless.
Perhaps we see ourselves as disabled relationally, finding it hard to maintain long-term friendships; disabled emotionally, given to depression and anxiety; disabled vocationally, not quite succeeding; or disabled interpersonally, avoiding conflict, failing to resolve conflict, or becoming codependent.
It is a mistake to identify as disabled. Apart from mythology, the perfect human specimen does not exist. Even Jesus, whom I believe was morally perfect, bears eternal wounds and has “no form nor beauty that we should desire him.”
In some sense we are all disabled. We are all flawed, if not in this area, then in that. It is only the megalomaniac who can, in his toxic narcissism, imagine himself in no need of grace.
To feel fully accepted, deeply okay as I am, beloved, warts and all – that is health.
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