Dear Readers,
Many of you may recognize my next guest contributor -my father- as he has written for me here before. He has a very unique perspective being the parent of a disabled person. I would ask that you pay careful attention to his story; it not only applies to coping with news of a unexpected disability, but how powerful words can be!
Without further ado...
Purple Shoes and Pink Shoelaces
“I’d get purple shoes
with pink shoelaces,” the doctor said with a dry tone of indifference. He
continued, “Your daughter won’t walk anyhow”.
My wife was shaken.
We had just moved to Baltimore in 1982 from Ann Arbor,
Michigan and immediately began locating new doctors to care for our 2-year-old
daughter, Debbie, who had just been diagnosed with cerebral palsy. My wife, Barbara, and I were just beginning
to realize the potential impact of raising a daughter with serious
disabilities. High on the list of
medical concerns was the need for a good orthopedist to advise us of the
affects our daughter’s disability would have on her motor development and
muscle tone. My wife took our daughter
to a highly recommended orthopedic surgeon who examined our daughter. After his
examination, my wife asked with concern,
“Should we see about getting special shoes?” The doctor had blurted out his careless
reply and his words cut deeply. The thoughtlessness in his response had
revealed to her the prospect of a disability no one had yet predicted for our
daughter. No one had ever told us Debbie might never walk.After recovering from the incident, we began looking for an orthopedist that could help us deal with our daughter’s physical needs but in a more compassionate manner. We both took Debbie to a second orthopedist. After the doctor completed examining her, we again asked about a need for special shoes. The doctor answered, “Because she won’t be bearing weight on her feet right now, you don’t have to worry about special shoes. I think you should buy the prettiest little pair of shoes that you can find.” His compassion and concern for our pain was evident, and we left the doctor’s office encouraged.
Barb and I later discussed how both doctors had said essentially the same thing, but the critical difference was in the way it was said, and the compassion and sensitivity in it’s delivery.
The Scriptures indicate that the way we say things, as well as the content of our words can have a significant impact on others. “Reckless words pierce like a sword, but the tongue of the wise brings healing (Proverbs 12:18). Our words can be pleasant and bring healing to others (Proverbs 16:24). Carefully spoken, they can be a work of beauty (Proverbs 25:11). Not only our spoken words, but also our silence can speak much compassion, rather than a rash remark. This silence of self-control and compassion is a sign of wisdom (Proverbs 10:19).
Because our sinful nature is not inclined toward compassion and interest in others, we must rely on the Spirit of God to control our mind and tongue – if our speech is to bring healing and beauty. Untamed by the Spirit, our speech can be like a spark that starts a destructive fire, or a toxic poison that destroys a life. Rather than spreading healing and beauty, untamed conversation can bring hurt and pain (James 3:1-10). In fact, James indicated that the control of our conversation is one outward measure of our inward spirituality (James 1:26). Paul encouraged Timothy to display his faith in this sequence: “in speech, in life, in love, in faith and in purity” (1 Tim. 4:12, emphasis added). Paul recognized that Timothy’s conversation was the first visible evidence of his inward spiritual condition.
Let us today commit our tongue and the conversation of our lives to bringing healing and beauty to others – revealing to them the love of God expressed by our lives. This will bring blessing to others, and it will bring joy to us!
“A man finds joy in giving an apt reply-- and how good is a timely word!” (Proverbs 15:23).
1 comment:
I like this story. I too have heard similiar comments spoken about me, which even as an adult with CP have shaken me to tears. As an adult with CP who now helps pre-teens and teens communicate, I am incredibly conscious of how I deliver my thoughts to the parents with whom I work. Love ya, Deb. Lauren
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