Joni (17 page)

I shook my head. “In the Psalms we’re told that God does not deal with us according to our sins and iniquities. My accident was not a punishment for my wrongdoing—whether or not I deserved it. Only God knows
why
I was paralyzed. Maybe He knew I’d be ultimately happier serving Him. If I were still on my feet, it’s hard to say how things might have gone. I probably would have drifted through life—marriage, maybe even divorce—dissatisfied and disillusioned. When I was in high school, I reacted to life selfishly and never built on any long-lasting values. I lived
simply for each day and the pleasure I wanted—and almost always at the expense of others.”

“But now you’re happy?” a teenage girl asked.

“I really am. I wouldn’t change my life for anything. I even feel privileged. God doesn’t give such special attention to everyone and intervene that way in their lives. He allows most people to go right on in their own ways. He doesn’t interfere, even though He knows they are ultimately destroying their lives, health, or happiness, and it must grieve Him terribly. I’m really thankful He did something to get my attention and change me. You know, you don’t have to get a broken neck to be drawn to God. But the truth is, people don’t always listen to the experiences of others and learn from them. I hope you’ll learn from my experience, though, and not have to go through the bitter lessons of suffering that I had to face in order to learn.”

In the months after the Chicago trip, I began to see the chair as a tool to create an unusual classroom situation. It was particularly gratifying to see many young people commit themselves to Christ after my sharing with them. This too was “something better.”

I understood why Paul could “rejoice in suffering,” why James could “welcome trials as friends,” and why Peter did “not think it strange in the testing of your faith.” All of these pressures and difficulties had ultimate positive ends and resulted in “praise, honor, and glory” to Christ.

I quietly thanked God for the progress He had helped me make. I recalled how at the hospital a few years earlier someone had told me, “Just think of all the crowns you’ll receive in heaven for your suffering.”

“I don’t want any crowns,” I had barked back. “I want to be back on my feet.”

Now my thought was, “Good grief, if I’m winning crowns, I can’t wait to get more because it’s the one thing I can give to the Lord Jesus Christ when I meet Him.”

I am actually excited at these opportunities “to suffer for His sake” if it means I can increase my capacity to praise God in the process. Maybe it sounds glib or irresponsible to say that. Yet, I really do feel my paralysis is unimportant.

Circumstances have been placed in my life for the purpose of cultivating my character and conforming me to reflect Christlike qualities. And there is another purpose. Second Corinthians 1:4 explains it in terms of our being able to comfort others facing the same kinds of trials.

Wisdom is
trusting
God, not asking “Why, God?” Relaxed and in God’s will, I know He is in control. It is not a blind, stubborn, stoic acceptance, but getting to know God and realize He is worthy of my trust. Although I am fickle and play games, God does not; although I have been up and down, bitter and doubting, He is constant, ever-loving.

James, the apostle, wrote to people who were being torn apart by lions. Certainly their lot was far worse than mine. If this Word was sufficient for their needs, it can definitely meet mine.

At this writing, the year 1975 is just ending. I am sitting in my chair backstage at a large auditorium in Kansas City. I’ve been asked to speak to nearly 2,000 kids in a Youth for Christ rally tonight.

I have had several moments to pause and reflect behind the heavy curtains that separate me from the audience. My mind has roamed back through the scenes of the past eight years. Familiar faces of family and friends come to mind. Jay, Diana, Dick, Donald, my parents, Steve—people God has brought into my life to help bend and mold me more closely to Christ’s image. I can, and
do,
praise Him for it all—the laughter and the tears, the fun and the pain. All of it has been a part of “growing in grace.” The girl who became emotionally distraught and wavered at each new set of circumstances is now grown up, a woman who has learned to rely on God’s sovereignty.

I hear the voice of YFC director Al Metsker introducing me. Suddenly the purpose of my being here is once again brought
sharply into focus. In the next thirty minutes, I will speak to 2,000 kids, telling them how God transformed an immature and headstrong teenager into a self-reliant young woman who is learning to rejoice in suffering. I will have a unique opportunity. What I share with them may determine where they will spend eternity, so I approach this responsibility seriously.

I will talk to them about the steps God took in my life—and explain His purposes, as I understand them, to the present. In the process, I will share the concepts of God’s loving nature, His character, the purposes of Christ’s coming, and the reality of sin and repentance.

Al Metsker, the YFC director, is finishing his introduction now. Chuck Garriott carries my easel on stage while his wife, Debbie, wheels my chair into the glare of the footlights. As the applause dies down, I quiet my thoughts and pray for the Holy Spirit to once again use my words and experience to speak to people. Hopefully, here—as in other meetings—scores of kids will respond to God. But I will be pleased if only one person is drawn to Christ.

Even one person would make the wheelchair worth all that the past eight years have cost.

“Even one person would make the wheelchair worth all that the past eight years have cost.” I just read that closing line on the opposite page. But when I glossed over the word “eight,” my heart skipped a beat. How about thirty-five years?

Thirty-five years later and almost 3 million copies circulated in the United States, I am happy and humbled that not only one person, but many thousands have been drawn to Christ. Not only in the States, but abroad.

I am thinking of Dr. Zhang Xu, an orthopedic surgeon who lives in Anshan, northeast of Beijing, China. Dr. Zhang was working in the Middle East and, on a weekend respite near a lake, he dove into shallow water and broke his neck. He suffered many complications, and by the time he was sent home to China he was near death.

A Japanese therapist who was helping Xu gave him a tattered copy of the
Joni
book in English. Dr. Zhang Xu slowly read the account of another person who, like him, once dove into water only to rise and face a life of shattered dreams. He was deeply encouraged to know that he was not alone in his heartbreaking journey. Someone else understood. More important, God understood.

Immediately Dr. Zhang embarked on translating the
Joni
book into simplified Chinese text. Late into the night, with the book propped on a stand, Xu translated each word to his mother who, by the glow of a desk lamp, wrote down every word in
pencil. Xu and his mother wanted very much to share the story of
Joni
with thousands of other disabled people in their vast nation. After many months, Zhang Xu had a manuscript that was a foot-and-a-half high!

To make a long story short, two years later my husband, Ken, and I had the joy of attending a press conference at the China Rehabilitation Research Center in Beijing, where Dr. Zhang and I were guests of honor. The
Joni
book had been published by a secular publishing company and we were there to happily preside over the distribution of hundreds of hot-off-the-press copies to disabled people and their families at the center. And
that’s
just the beginning. The
Joni
book has helped open doors so that we can distribute wheelchairs in China and work with churches to reach out to more people with disabilities.

It’s happening not only in China, but all over the world.

And it’s happening here at home. My heart was warmed when I received this note: “My mother bought me your first book in 1983 after I broke my neck in an auto accident. My husband, Larry, would lie on the floor under my Stryker frame and hold the book up so I could read it. You are such a motivation to people like me with disabilities. Keep it up! Love, Lenda.”

I looked up from Lenda’s note and recalled what it felt like, nearly three and a half decades ago, to lie facedown on a Stryker frame. The restraining straps…the stiffness in my neck…staring at the floor tiles and fighting off claustrophobia. I recall how my father fashioned a little stool just high enough to fit underneath my Stryker frame. He would place a book on it so I could reach the pages with my mouth stick. One of the first books I asked for was the Bible (I tried very hard not to drool on it!). Why the Bible? I had a zillion questions and I was desperate for answers.

And you know the rest of the story. Yes, I found some helpful answers, but more important, I found the One who holds all the answers in His hand. His answer from the cross was and is
enough for me—He did all His explaining there on Calvary. He carried His cross so that we might have strength to carry ours.

This is why I wrote the book
Joni.
I knew there would be thousands of people, like me, who would follow in my “wheelchair tracks.” They too would have heart-wrenching questions. They also would lie in hospital beds and wonder about the future. I also knew there would be thousands more who would not experience a broken neck, but a broken heart or broken home. When I wrote
Joni
in 1976, I believed the book would have universal appeal. And in the new millennium, it continues to speak volumes to those who hurt.

I’m in my fifties now and, with it, I am facing a whole new set of aches and pains, limitations and challenges. But rather than worry about the future, I’ll remember Lenda’s words. “Keep it up!” I’ll keep holding onto God’s grace one day at a time. I will say “yes” to the offer of His strength and power and “no” to grumbling, no matter if I face a four-week stint in bed with pressure sores, or a flat tire on my wheelchair when I’m cruising the Thousand Oaks mall.

I will keep being a supportive wife to my husband of nearly twenty years, Ken Tada. I will continue to shine the light of Christ and shake the salt of God’s good news through Joni and Friends (JAF), our international outreach to people with disabilities and their families. I will keep traveling to our JAF Family Retreats with Ken, connecting with scores of moms and dads and disabled children. I will keep ministering through
Wheels for the World,
our program through which we take refurbished wheelchairs to needy disabled people overseas, as well as Bibles and disability ministry training materials for churches. I will keep advocating for families affected by disability to improve the quality of life and care, whether here in the U.S. or around the world. I will keep on keeping on, by the grace of God.

As long as I can sit up in this chair and as long as my lungs hold out, I will echo Isaiah 12:5 and “sing to the Lord, for he has
done glorious things; let this be known to all the world.” Come to think of it, even if I
can’t
sit up in my chair, I’ll avail myself of His grace. I know plenty of bedridden believers whose lives have a powerful and poignant influence far beyond the four walls of their rooms.

If that’s what’s in store, the woman whose wheelchair for the last thirty-five years has been on high speed will be flat on her back. But my bed won’t be the place of affliction you read about in
Joni.
It will be—as it has been for a long time—an altar of praise. Lying on my back, I’ll be forced to look up. Always and always onward and upward into the heart of heaven. Looking up into the face of my Lord Jesus.

And by the grace of God…I’ll keep smiling.

Joni Eareckson Tada, 2001

When the original
Joni
book was released in 1976, the survival statistics for a quadriplegic were pretty bleak. In the ‘70s, persons who were spinal cord injured were not expected to live more than fifteen or twenty years. That was then. More than three decades have passed since Joni’s diving accident—and today, in this new millennium, Joni Eareckson Tada seems to enjoy more energy than when she was a teenager. She has been one busy woman since she wrote her first book.

Her first name is recognized in many countries around the world due to her best-selling books, including the
Joni
book, which has been published in forty-five languages. World Wide Pictures, the film outreach ministry of the Billy Graham Association, produced the full-length feature film
Joni.
Like the book, the movie has been translated into numerous languages and has been shown in scores of countries around the world.

After she began to receive thousands of letters due to the publication of the
Joni
book in 1976, Joni prayed about how she could effectively respond to the many needs and questions. With the help of advisors, she founded Joni and Friends (JAF), an organization accelerating Christian ministry in the disability community.

In 1982 Joni married Ken Tada, a high school history teacher in Burbank, California. Joni also became active in disability advocacy in the 1980s, during which time President Reagan and President Bush appointed her to the National Council on Disability, and the Americans with Disabilities Act became law.

Through her work with Joni and Friends, she records a five-minute radio program,
“Joni and Friends,”
heard daily on over 850 station outlets. Mrs. Tada is a sought-after conference speaker both in the U.S. and internationally. She is also a columnist for
Moody Magazine.
Joni serves on several boards, including the Lausanne Committee for World Evangelization as a senior associate for evangelism among disabled persons. She also serves in an advisory capacity to the American Leprosy Mission, the National Institute on Learning Disabilities, Christian Blind Mission International, and as a trustee of the Riverside Foundation.

She has received numerous awards, including “Churchwoman of the Year” by the Religious Heritage Foundation and the Golden Word Award from the International Bible Society. She was the first woman to be honored by the National Association of Evangelicals as their “Layperson of the Year.” She holds an honorary Bachelor of Letters from Western Maryland College, an honorary Doctor of Humanities from Gordon College, an honorary Doctor of Humane Letters from Columbia International University—the first honorary doctorate bestowed in their 75-year-old history, and an honorary Doctor of Divinity from Westminster Theological Seminary.