Oftentimes people see me sitting in my wheelchair and they'll cluck sympathetically or sak me if I ever thought of praying to God to heal me.

I can't tell you how many times I have asked the Good Lord to heal me to the point of being able to rise from my chair and take my first steps at walking.  Maybe that's not His will; maybe there is a reason why He hasn't healed me.  Sometimes I question His reasonings, but He knows what He is doing, so I must learn to trust in Him in all things and let Him do His will in my life.

I'm just grateful that I can move my arms and do a lot of things, even in spite of being in a wheelchair.  I can drive a van, raise a family, work, go from place to place, dress myself (with minimal help), feed myself, bathe myself, handle my toileting, sing in the choir every Sunday and Wednesday at church, and so much more.

I have a very happy (and varied) life, as you can see.

I've been in a wheelchair since I was just seven years old.  I was hit by a driver going at a high rate of speed.  It's a miracle I wasn't injured worse than I already was, but I spent a few months in the hospital, then after that, I was sent to a rehab facility to learn how to live life from a wheelchair.  It wasn't easy (at times it still isn't), but I did not have any say in the matter.  This was my new life, whether I wanted it to be or not.

Sometimes, though, I have days where I wish God would heal me.  I get frustrated and depressed.  This is when I question Him or ask Him to heal me; but His answers are always the same: "It is not your time, Esme'.  Maybe one day You will be healed, but not now.  I have better plans in mind for you; all you have to do is trust in me and believe."  So that is what I do.

~End of Part One~