Riding the Ups, Downs and Back Ups

May 1998

Lately I’ve been musing about the roller-coaster ride that has characterized my body’s physical state throughout my life.
There was childhood polio followed by fairly good functional recovery into adulthood. Then post-polio syndrome ended the career I had dreamed about and aimed at from childhood. That career lasted just seventeen years. I was a Christian missionary in the interior highlands of Irian Jaya, Indonesia, working with a delightful mountain tribe. Those years were not only tremendously fulfilling but also physically taxing. My body couldn’t keep up with the demands and I had no choice but to return to the States in August, 1991. I was on the fast track of PPS deterioration. By late 1996 I could walk only a few feet, needed a respirator 18 hours out of 24 with no more than four consecutive hours free from it, struggled through thick chronic brain fatigue and needed prescription pain relievers and sleep aids. Every few months measured new decline.

The decline was reversed eighteen months ago when I underwent treatment at Futures, Unlimited, Inc. Now I’m walking, off the respirator entirely, clear-brained, off the Rx pain and sleep meds, better in other ways and improving every day.

“So why the philosophical musing?” you ask. “Just enjoy and get on with life!”

I certainly am doing that. But, remembering that I am a missionary, you can guess that the spiritual aspect pervades how I see everything. In fact, did I say that it was post-polio syndrome that brought me back from Irian Jaya (now called Papua, Indonesia)? Actually, I don’t believe I’m a mere pawn of circumstances. I know that God was in control while I was on that down hill “toboggan ride,” and I know he is in control now as it goes uphill again.
Still, I have to ask myself, what is it all about? Part of the picture I can see plainly. Some areas I can only guess at and about others I don’t have a clue. But it does seem that maybe some of my dreams will be realized, after all. Dreams I had thought impossible just two years ago. So I ask, how much do I need those dreams to be fulfilled?

Among the Psalms that Israel’s King David wrote is one which expresses part of my musings. It is a song written when he, too, was pondering the ups and downs. He wrote:

In times of trouble, may the LORD respond to your cry. May the God of Israel keep you safe from all harm. May he send you help from his sanctuary and strengthen you from Jerusalem. May he remember all your gifts and look favorably on your burnt offerings. (Interlude)
May he grant your heart's desire and fulfill all your plans. May we shout for joy when we hear of your victory, flying banners to honor our God. May the LORD answer all your prayers.
Now I know that the LORD saves his anointed king. He will answer him from his holy heaven and rescue him by his great power. Some nations boast of their armies and weapons, but we boast in the LORD our God. Those nations will fall down and collapse, but we will rise up and stand firm. Give victory to our king, O LORD! Respond to our cry for help. [Psalm 20, The Living Translation]

David starts out with a cry for help then confidently declares his trust that God will do what is best, right and joyful, and ends with a cry for help again, because he hasn’t yet seen his request fulfilled.

Recently a friend reminded me of something I wrote when my PPS was quite bad. On an e-mail post-polio discussion list, someone had said that, while still a child, he became very disillusioned about God. He had been taken to a healing meeting and was blamed (“must have a fatal character flaw”) because nothing happened. Several other people on the list said they had had similar experiences, and were similarly blamed for their failure to recover fully. Their child-like minds drew what seemed to be the obvious conclusion: their cry for help hadn’t been heard.

Part of their story fit mine. I told the e-mail list that I had also been taken to a healing meeting when I was about nine. I also was not healed. But I wasn’t blamed for it. My parents knew better, and so did I. I knew that God could have done it. I didn’t know why he hadn’t, but I did know I could trust him.

Then I told the list:

“…like the rest of you, I get miffed too when people think they have to come up with a reason. As if God needs us to defend Him! If we could totally figure him out, he would be on our level and not be God at all. Nor can I blithely say that I have learned from God that my polio is good. Of course it isn't. It's awful!! Pain is pain, and it hurts. ...

“I don't know reasons, but I have seen good in the bad. I have discovered that because I had polio I am able to draw more joy out of this broken world than many ‘normal’ folks. Life in Irian Jaya, Indonesia was rough. It ruined the health of strong, big men. And here I was, all 4ft.-7in. of me, with a large ‘hitch in my get-along;’ I couldn't run, jump, etc. But I had the privilege of living that marvelously rewarding and fascinating life for 17 years. Every day my body was my reminder of what an amazing thing that was. As a result, I found in it far more joy and satisfaction than some of the physically normal missionaries who had lost that sense of wonder. And now, even forced to be on my bed so much with PPS, the smallest things can give me pleasure that other people can't get from that same thing. Ironically, I am the one who in that sense has a better ‘quality of life.’”

Now that I’m better, do I still believe that? You bet!! A few brave souls have dared to ask me, “What if your improvement doesn’t last?” Well, I’d certainly know the routine! And I know my present strength is bound not to last indefinitely ... if nothing else, old age will take over at some point, if I live that long. Of one thing I am certain. God is not a cosmic genie. I cannot manipulate him. Nor is he a divine bully. I can trust him.

You can see that my musings have not led me to any knowledge of a predictable style of life. But they have filled my heart with a better joy than that. Yes, I am enjoying to the hilt my new greater level of strength and health. I relish the ability it gives me to be involved in the kinds of things I was made for. I thrill at the prospect of fulfilled dreams.

My reflections have led me to realize that those things, though wonderful, are not the greatest joy. The greatest joy is the same joy I had when I was flat on my back on my bed for hours on end. It was more than a mere positive attitude triumph over circumstances. Rather, it is the joy of trust in a trustworthy God. That is what liberates me from emotional slavery to my circumstances. I don’t need my world to be “up” in order for me to be “up” and I don’t need to be “down” when it seems “down.” I’ve been through the ups, the downs and the back ups, and the joy of that trust has remained constant, because God does.

King David said it: “May we shout for joy when we hear of your victory, flying banners to honor our God.”