Have you ever wondered what it would be like with no hardship at all? No pain, no struggles, and no tears; just joy and perfection? This question has often entered my mind as someone who struggles with a physical disability: Cerebral Palsy. We all have, or will be in, those situations where it’s out of our control, it seems as though bad things keep happening, and your life is crumbling down with no one to stop it. Why would God do this, especially to those He loves?
May 21st, 2011, was a very special day. The day I came into the world, 10 weeks earlier than expected. Not only was I unexpected, but also very jaundiced, born only 3 pounds, one ounce. Being this tiny was a very scary thing, especially for my parents, who felt like I might slip from the grip of their arms if they didn’t watch me carefully enough. Getting a diagnosis such as this for your child is one of the worst fears of parents, not being able to protect them from this when they first come into the world. Getting told that your daughter has a permanent condition that is caused by changes in the development of the brain in infancy, often due to being born really early, which causes hardship in mobility, balance, and many other things, is a shocking thing. I don’t think my parents knew how they could handle this.
I never wanted this for my parents. I never wanted to be the child who causes all the problems. All the appointments and driving were definitely exhausting. But of course, they couldn’t show that. My parents have never complained that I was a burden; they have always helped and encouraged me in any new task I wanted to take on. Instead of being disappointed that their daughter was born this way, they constantly became more proud of the daughter the LORD has given them.
As a girl with Cerebral Palsy (CP), hardship is a regular occurrence. Constant tripping over your own feet while getting winded in the process, with no one to stop the pain. Everyone asks what happened, but really, it happened way too fast to even remember. Doctors and therapists are constantly on your agenda, and the constant dread of getting criticized for something you can’t help. But you know that this is for your own good, that they’re just trying to help you, yet you can’t help but feel the tears dripping down your face because you know deep down, no matter how hard people try to help you or how much effort you put into yourself, it won’t leave you. It’s a part of you. Really, it’s who you are.
However, when we go to school, that’s where hardship really begins, when all you get from people are stares and points. When you go outside to play, all the kids run past you at 100 miles an hour, ten times faster than you, leaving you to be by yourself. Making friends was always the hardest part for me. You always feel less. You feel like people only look down, never at you. It’s like I’m a faceless person, someone people look past instead of at.
When I got older, around two years ago, I had a major surgery that affected my life forever. The day before my surgery, I couldn’t begin to grasp what was about to happen. I was so afraid because I didn’t know what to expect. The morning came sooner than I wanted. After an agonizing wait, I finally walked myself to the surgery room, got laid on the table, and soon enough I felt my dad’s hand squeeze mine, telling me to be brave. Tears rolled down my face, asking God to protect and guide the surgery.
I woke up after six hours in surgery with all my family surrounding me. My family came to hug me, but I didn’t really feel their touch. I felt like I was the only one there, hearing only the soft shuffle of feet coming towards me.
As soon as night fell, my dad sat beside me and started to play organ music on his phone, just like every Sunday. All I could do was laugh for the first time in a long time. Somehow, it felt good, like home was being brought to me even while lying in a hospital bed.
In times like these, it was really hard to see God near me and to be grateful for everyone trying to help me. I felt really trapped in this web of confusion and helplessness, even though my mom was there with me the whole time. I got through it after five days, finally getting to go home, but even there, I felt like such a burden, my mom having to do everything for me. It was a very painful time for me, having to sit with my legs far apart all day with big, constant pressure.
After around three weeks at home, I went to the rehabilitation center for five weeks straight, only able to go home on the weekends. But here I started to feel a lot better. It was a slow and gradual process, but I was making progress and moving again. What hurt the most was my family going home without me, while my mom and I stayed at the hospital. But really, it wasn’t all bad. The most important part was how much this experience opened my eyes to how hard others had it, how much worse their lives were. I was so thankful for this, for how much joy I brought to these people, and for how much I meant to them in such a short time, making me feel not alone.
When you have a disability, you can’t explain to others what it’s like, but to these people I could because they were going through the same thing. I felt this was God reassuring me that I am never alone. He gave me the strength not only to get through my own hardship but to help others get through theirs by shining Christ’s light. The negative voice in my own head is constantly telling me I’m not enough. And I truly think that it will never leave me, but they helped me find a way to cope by putting the positive voice louder.
As I get older, I question many things: how deep you can get in sadness. What’s out there for me? Will I be able to get a good job? Will I find someone who truly loves me? Will I be able to give my kids the life they need and deserve? But until then, you will always feel behind in life, seeing everyone have plans for their life already, while I’m here still trying to deal with my permanent condition – at least I do.
Everyone asks how I do it, how I live my life normally, always staying strong. But I know I definitely am not strong; not on my own anyway. If I didn’t have God constantly carrying me, I wouldn’t have the strength to stand. He is my stronghold. No, my life isn’t normal. I am not a normal person, but that doesn’t make me any less human. And you know what? That’s okay, because hardship doesn’t only scar you, it pushes you. Having CP naturally moves you out of your comfort zone. If we want to do something different, it takes a lot of practice and thought before action. Life is not worth living if you stay in your own safe corner. These are the times when I feel the most grateful that I don’t have to deal with this alone, but that God is beside me giving me the strength to do it.
Like I’ve said many times over, I wish I had been born “normal,” but normal is so overrated. God never made normal. We all have something unique that glows inside us. Psalm 139:13-14 says:
“For You formed my inward parts; You covered me in my mother’s womb. I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; marvelous are Your works, and that my soul knows very well.”
Let your glow shine for all to see. Even when we are struggling, we all have the strength to overcome it with God’s help. Isaiah 41:10 says, “Fear not, for I am with you, be not dismayed, for I am your God, I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” Philippians 4:13 says, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”
No matter the amount of tears you may shed or how much you may be struggling, God loves you. Whenever I feel weak, I look in the mirror and tell myself, I am beautiful. I am a glowing light to others. No one can tell me otherwise because my Father in heaven is more powerful than negativity or hardship. If you’re struggling, just know it doesn’t make you any less human. If anything, it makes you a stronger and more resilient human. Being dependent on God is a privilege.
Psalm 27:1 says “The Lord is my light and my salvation, whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life, of whom shall I be afraid?” Don’t be afraid to be different and to go through hardship. Hardship is an opportunity to fully lay yourself on the LORD and let yourself grow with God. One day, we will run into the arms of our Savior without any spot or blemish. So don’t run from hardship but towards it. Let it draw you closer to God in faith. For us, hardship becomes hope because God is the anchor in our storm.
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“I always felt God gave me CP for a reason. I’ve been through challenges some people just cannot understand. I know I am a compete and beautiful child of God, I wanted people to know my story because I know I might touch the hearts of people and help them in hardships they may be going through and inspire them to not be afraid of hardships but look forward to becoming a stronger and better person because of it.” – Leanna
