03/10/2004: "No Legs"

By Carol J. Warren

When George was a young man he had an accident, a wagon turned over on top of him. It was a bad accident and as a result of it George lost both of his legs. Back in those days they did not have the medicines and technical skills they have in today’s hospitals. But George was determined not to let this hinder him from what he needed to do. He refused to be helpless.

He had two wooden legs very carefully carved in such a way that the stubs of each of his legs would fit down inside of a wooden cup that worked its way down into a peg leg. The doctors told him it was foolishness and that no one would be able to walk and get around on two peg legs, they just wouldn’t be able to balance and walk but George just kept working with it until he had it down. He wasn’t always as steady as he would have liked to be but at least he was able to go wherever he wanted to go without being hindered.

However, after a few years the bone that was left was pushing against what was left of the flesh of his legs as he walked on the wooden pegs. It was causing a major irritation. The doctors told George that he would have to stop wearing the pegs or lose what little legs he had. But George would not give up. He didn’t want to be confined to a chair. In those days there were not many sidewalks or any places that had wheelchair access. To be confined to his chair meant confined to the house. And he just couldn’t cope with that right now.

So what he decided to do was leave the wooden legs off and only wear them when he really needed to go somewhere and take them off as much as he could. That worked for a few more years but his legs became infected again and again. Finally the doctors had to remove what was left of George’s legs off to the hips. Now there was nothing for George to attach a peg leg to. There was nothing more George could do; he was confined to a wheel chair.

But George still would not give up, even though it was quite a struggle to get to town from his house in a wheelchair, George would push and shove his way along in the mud and the holes in the dirt streets. But when he got to the store or where ever he was going he couldn’t get his wheelchair up onto the board sidewalk or over the doorway. He almost always needed a little help. Sometimes George would tip over and it would take him a long time to be able to set his wheelchair back up and struggle his way back into the chair.

Then George had an idea. He made two long boards and fixed them to the back of his wheelchair. When he came to a mud puddle or a sidewalk that he needed to get up on he would simply set the boards in place like a runner and wheel up on them, then pick them back up and put them again on the back of his chair. George was quite a guy, you never heard him complain or give up. It took a lot of strength and time to work his way around like that but George didn’t mind and for years pretty much every day you would see George at the General Store.

As time went on and George got older, he simply didn’t have the strength he had as a young man. It became harder and harder for George to manage to get to town. Finally George had to admit he just couldn’t make the trip any more. He was simply to old to be able to man handling the wheelchair along those rugged trails. George lived with his elderly mother and she wasn’t able to push the chair very far. George made two circle eight rock pathways in their back yard. He planted flowers and shrubs around the area and would spend hours out there just to get outside and get a little exercise.

One day a boy name Timmy came by and knocked on the door. He had a paper route in George’s area and he was knocking on the doors of people who did not receive the paper to see if he could drum up some more business. By this time George was quite old. George went to answer the door. “Hello sir,” Timmy started, “I am from the newspaper and I was just stopping by…”

George interrupted. “Come in, Come in, never did like to talk to someone in the doorway.” And with that George wheeled his chair around to a small table in the corner of the living room. Timmy felt a little awkward. Most people didn’t ask him in but maybe this meant that he had made a sale, so he walked over to the table.

“As I was saying,” Timmy started.

“Do you always talk to people without introducing yourself?” George asked peeping up behind his reading glasses.

“Oh sorry,” Timmy said, “My name is Timmy and I work of for the newspaper. I was…”

George interrupted again, “Timothy is a good Bible name. I like that.” George paused, “I’m sure you don’t mean to stare, would you like to ask me about it. It’s ok it doesn’t bother me.”

“Sorry, I just couldn’t help but think how miserable that must be. What happened?” Timmy asked.

“It was an accident. I wasn’t too much older than you when it happened.” George said.

“Wow, that means you’ve been in that chair a long time. I bet that made you mad?” Timmy said.

“Yes?” George asked, “Who would I be mad at?”

“Well, I don’t know, God I guess, He’s the one that did this to you isn’t He?” Timmy said.

“That’s an interesting way to look at things Timothy. I couldn’t help but notice that you have a skinned knee. Do you mind if I ask how you did that?” George asked

Timmy got a big grin on his face, “Ah shucks I was trying to jump over Mr. Peterman’s fence and fell. It’s no big deal.”

“Still I bet it made you plenty mad at God Him doing that to you and all.” George said.

“Well gee whiz it weren’t God’s fault I tried to jump old Mr. Peterman’s fence, it was just pure foolishness on my part.” Timmy exclaimed.

“Really, then I guess I don’t understand, how my legs being gone can be God’s fault but your skinned knee isn’t God’s fault?” George asked.

“I don’t exactly know,” Timmy said, “but it seems to me one is much bigger than the other.”

“Yes but the Bible says in John 10:10 ‘The thief does not come except to steal, and to kill, and to destroy. I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly.’ So it sounds to me like the devil is the one that causes trouble but God is the one that gets the blame.” George said.

“Yes but God is God, He could of kept you from getting hurt if He just would have. Don’t it make you mad that He let this happen to you?” Timmy asked

“Would that change my circumstance or make them better in any way to blame God and become bitter. I don’t think so; in fact it would make them worse. No one wants to be around bitter cranky complainer. If I blame God then I am judging God. I have decided that He is not good and He is not just. Do I stand big enough to be God’s judge? Not hardly. If I take that position I will cut my self off from God because of my bad attitude and He is the only one that can comfort me and give me the life I need. That seems a bit foolish to me, doesn’t it to you Timothy?” George asked.

“I don’t know,” Timmy said thinking about it. “It just don’t seem fair to me.”

“Humm,” George said, “Have you ever had a dog Timothy?”

“Sure I’ve got a dog now.” Timmy said

“I bet you tell him to stay out of the road and not to chase wagons don’t you?” George asked.

“Yeah all the time.” Timmy said

“So it shouldn’t be hard for you to imagine your dog running into the street to chase yet another wagon while you are calling for him to stop?” George asked

“Yeah I can imagine that easy enough, he does it all the time.” Timmy said

“Then imagine that your dog gets run over and hurt pretty bad. Then you run over to help him and he growls at you.” George says.

“Wait a minute I was with you until you said he growled at me, I don’t get that part.” Timmy said.

“Well it’s your fault Timothy. You’re his owner. You’re responsible for him and you let him get run over.” George says

“Wait a minute that’s not fair. I tell him all the time to stay out of the road and I was yelling at him this time too and he just wouldn’t listen. It’s not my fault.” Timmy said.

“Oh really, then I bet you would want to beat your dog after disobeying like that.” George said, “And growling at you unfairly on top of it all. Blaming you for something he did himself.”

“Well no of course not, I wouldn’t beat a hurt dog, I love my dog. I would just bind up his wounds and help him get better. I sure hope he learns to listen after all that though.” Timmy said

“But what if he’s so mad at you for letting him get run over that he won’t let you take care of him? He won’t let you carry him to the house, he won’t let you bind up his wounds and he won’t let you comfort him because he’s mad and hurt and he thinks it’s all your fault.” George said.

“Gee that would be awful. It isn’t my fault at all. I just want to help him feel better.” Timmy said.

“Don’t you think that is how God feels when we blame Him for every trick of the devil we fall for or every thing we do wrong because we are not listening to Him. When all He really wants to do is love us, comfort us and help us get better. It would be even more foolishness not to let Him, right Timothy?” George asked.

“Well… yes I guess so.” Timmy said mulling it over.

“Has your mom ever had to get on to you Timothy perhaps even spank you.” George said.

Timmy grinned, “Ah sure, she fair set my hinder parts on fire the other day.”

“I imagine you hate her for that. Yes, I bet you will never forgive her as long as you live, right?” George asked.

“Ah shucks Mr. George she’s just being mom. If I hadn’t snuck out the window to play ball when I was supposed to be studying she wouldn’t have spanked me.” Timmy said

“You mean you disobeyed her.” George asked, “and she spanked you? Sounds harsh and unfair to me. I think you should leave home and never come back.” George said matter of factly.

“Well I don’t think it was all that bad. She’s just trying to teach me right from wrong Mr. George. I shouldn’t have disobeyed and besides if I run away from home who’s gonna feed me? Where will I sleep? Naw, I think I’m just fine staying ta home. Besides I love my mom.” Timmy said shocked that George would say such a thing.

“Yes I see what you mean Timothy. God is our Father, our heavenly parent. He corrects us if we let Him and teaches us right from wrong. He also loves to take care of us but often we get bitter and angry and run away from home, when God is just being a good parent.” George said

“Wow that don’t hardly seem fair for us to treat God that way,” Timmy said, “It must really upset Him.

“Come with me Timothy.” George said wheeling his chair around and wheeling himself outside. He wheeled over to the far corner of the yard.

“Sure is a pretty yard.” Timmy said

“Yes except for this.” George said pointing to a withered dried up bush in the far corner of the yard. “It is suppose to be the same as these other bushes.” George said pointing to the other bushes that were quite tall and full of fragrant flowers.

“Wow, what happened to it?” Timmy asked

“It just refused to grow. It had the same chance as the other bushes, the same sunshine and good soil with fertilizer. It had to face the same hardships of winter’s ice and snow. But some how somewhere along the way it just gave up just like we do when we become bitter and begin to blame. When it did that it was cut off from the source, so it began to wither up and die. It is the same with us Timothy, God is our source for life and if we become bitter at Him or blame Him for life’s winters and harsh winds we will wither up and die inside. I keep this shrub though it is dead just to remind me that people with bitterness and blame in their hearts are people set to self destruct.” George said

“Could you help me a minute Timothy?” George asked

“Sure Mr. George what do ya need?” Timmy piped up

“I want to show you something but the path is too rugged for me to wheel the chair by myself. It’s right over that ridge Timothy.” George said pointing. “Give me a push to the top of it.”

Timmy pushed George up over the hill. They could see the valley below stretched out before them. “Do you see that little creek Timothy?” George asked.

“Sure but it’s all dried up now. Not much of a creek any more.” Timmy said

“When I was your age that creek was full of water and fish. I could swim there, fish there and get a drink of water there. See that big river in the distance; this little creek was filled by it. But it became proud and arrogant, self-sufficient. It began to think everyone likes me, everyone comes here to drink my water and have fun I don’t need the river. But those very attitudes began to cause the creek to pull away from the river to separate itself from the river. As you can see after that it didn’t take long for the creek to dry up and become useless.” George said.

“Really if you think about it, it would have been better for it to never have had water flowing through it at all because now it is worse than ever because the water that use to flow in it left all the harsh rocks showing. No one goes there anymore. It is the same with us. When we are hooked up with God He is our river pouring His life through us, but when we begin to blame and get bitter, when we begin to think we can do it all without Him and be proud, we cut ourselves off from God, our source, and we dry up and become a barren rocky waste.” George looked at Timmy to see if he were getting the point.

“Push me back to the house if you don’t mind.” George said.

While Timmy was pushing George back to the house he began to tell him about a dog he had once. “It was a smart dog for games and hunting but he had one problem, he loved to play on the rim of the well. I would punish him and tell him not to play at the well but when my back was turned there he was.” George said shaking his head sadly.

“He just didn’t understand that if he slipped he could fall into the well and die. Not only that but that well was our only drinking water. A dead dog in the well would make it unfit to drink for a long time to come. It would be awful for us to have to do without water because of a disobedient dog. So finally I determined that I needed to tie the dog up, so I tethered him to the clothes line pole. The dog was never the same. He became very sad. He wouldn’t hunt or play after that, he became useless, useless to himself and to me. Finally he just pined away and died young.” George said shrugging his shoulders.

“He didn’t understand. He took it personally like I was just being mean to him. We do that to God. We may not understand why things happened the way they happened until we get to heaven but if we take it personally like God was just trying to be mean to us, we will just wither up and die. We will become useless and miserable to be around. I don’t want to be like that, do you?” George asked Timmy.

“No that would be wrong. I guess there are a lot of things we don’t understand. We sure can’t see things the way God does from here on earth.” Timmy said

Timmy wheeled George back into the house. George went into the kitchen and got an egg and a bowl. “What do you see Timothy?” George asked.

“Just a dumb ole egg.” Timmy said

“Do you think there is a chicken in this egg Timothy?” George asked.

“Naw I wouldn’t think so. It’s just one of those eggs that’s only good fer eating.” Timmy said.

George broke the egg into the bowl. “Yes, you were right. No chicken in there Timothy. No life in this egg. But let me show you something.” George began to wheel himself outside again and down a different path that led to the chicken coop. George opened the gate and wheeled himself inside with Timmy just behind him. He went over to a hen that was sitting on a nest with eggs in it.

“Go over there to that hen Timothy and get me an egg. Careful Gertrude can be harsh when it comes to protecting her eggs.” Timmy shooed the hen away but not without a peck or two and managed to snatch an egg and bring it over to George.

“What do you see Timothy?” George asked

“Shucks Mr. George it’s just another egg.” Timmy said like duh.

“Do you think this egg is alive Timothy? Do you think it has a chicken in it?” George asked.

“I don’t know.” Timmy said shrugging his shoulders.

“George handed Timmy the egg, “Hold it up to the light Timothy and tell me what you see.” George said handing Timmy the egg.

“Shoot fire Mr. George there’s a chick in there. Wow.” Timmy said. He was able to see the silhouette of the chick when he held the egg up to the light.

“On the outside they look the same but on the inside they were different. That’s the way it is with us. That egg with the chick in it will take a few weeks to make a baby chicken that will hatch and come to life. Once that chick is hatched it will live for years. But the eggs in the house have no life in them they will never come to life. It is the same with us. Our time here on earth is like the chicks time in the shell. It seems like forever to us our 80 to a 100 years but when we hatch out of this body so to speak we will go to live in heaven in a new and wonderful form that will live millions of years and then our few years in the shell here on earth will seem like nothing.” George said.

“We have it all backwards. We have made the shell and our time in the shell everything. But it is just the holding tank for our life. We are waiting for our life to be fulfilled in heaven just like the little chick is waiting for the shell to hatch because it has heard about the bright sunshine and worms. It will be able to see momma hen not just feel her warmth. But the shell in the house has no life in it. When we become bitter, selfish and blame God we cut ourselves off from life and then we are just a rotten egg no good to anyone. The life inside of us withers and dies. Why would I become bitter because I cannot walk for a few years and ruin eternity where I will be able to walk with the Lord?” George asked

I can either fulfill my purpose here on earth and stay linked into the source or become a rotten egg that will never hatch; it will never have enough life in it to make it to heaven. Why would I cut myself off from God by blaming Him? Only God can comfort us, give us life and sustain us. No I will live out my purpose for God not against Him.” George said in a determined voice.

“No offense,” Timmy said, “But what is you purpose?”

“No offense taken Timothy,” George said, “You can be yourself with me. My purpose is to please God and bless men by letting the Life of God flow through me to them. That life comes when you please God by spending time with Him and in His word loving on Him and letting Him love on you.”

George wheeled himself over to a low cupboard and opening the door took out a very old Bible that looked well used. He wheeled over to Timmy and handed it to him. “I have several Bibles but this one was always my favorite as you can probably tell by the way I have used it.” George said, “I want you to have it. That is if you will read it. That is how I got to know God. Reading His word and talking to Him. You can do the same Timothy. But never let yourself become bitter or allow yourself to blame God or you will become a lifeless rotten egg.” George handed him the Bible.

Timmy was amazed that George would give him something so special to him. He was very grateful and as he turned to go he said, “When I came here I felt sorry for you Mr. George but now I just want to be like you some day.” And with that Timmy turned to leave.

George folded his hands in his lap and smiled. “It is easier to be lame in the shell Lord than lame in the life inside the shell.”

Amen