Blessed Limitations

I’d like to introduce a young man who had a profound impact on my life and taught me the key to having hope in the midst of unwelcome, overwhelming limitations.
Through Isaac, I learned that blessings can come from limtations.
The sun was shining brightly on that spring afternoon I headed to the park for a play date with our three grandsons, Austin, Blake, and Cole. Since the time they were babies, I’ve delighted in interacting with them on the playground equipment. This would be one more memory to add to our treasure trove.
As we approached the playground, my eyes felt as though someone had swished them with acid. I had recently been diagnosed with lupus, an autoimmune disease that basically makes the body allergic to itself. I knew bright lights were one of the problems associated with lupus and I had worn my sunglasses. But I was devastated as I realized I wouldn’t be able to play in the sun with my grandchildren.
They climbed on the play equipment and I sat down under a shade tree to have an intimate pity party with three familiar friends—me, myself, and I.
Suddenly, I heard singing behind me. "God good…..God good….all time." I looked around and saw a young man in a wheel chair watching the other kids playing on the equipment.
I assured myself that he wasn’t singing "God is good….all the time." Surely not. After all, he could only watch while everyone else had fun.
I kept telling myself that I must have heard the wrong words coming from his lips. Then, my curiosity got the best of me. I turned around and asked, "Son, are you singing, 'God is good….God is good…all the time?’"
He shook his head affirmatively and his uncle, Ray, told me how Isaac certainly was singing those words and that he had also memorized five psalms.
Isaac then began reciting Psalm 100:

Make a joyful shout to the LORD,
all you lands!
Serve the LORD with gladness;
Come before His presence with singing.
Know that the LORD, He is God;
It is He who has made us,
and not we ourselves;
We are his people and the sheep of His pasture.
Enter into His gates with thanksgiving,
And into His courts with praise.
Be thankful to Him, and bless His name.
For the LORD is good;
His mercy is everlasting,
And His truth endures to all generations.


By the time he recited the last verse, I was choking back tears.
"You’ve been such a blessing to me today, Isaac. I needed to be reminded of God's unchanging goodness and he put me near you so you could remind me through your life and words. Thank you."
Isaac smiled and then he told me about all the things he could do. He was looking forward to riding horses that summer in Washington D.C. and going to camp in northern Indiana.
Unlike me, Isaac's focus was on the glory and goodness of God. He knew that physical limitations and suffering are God's invitation for us to enter into a more intimate relationship with him.
My grandsons had the privilege of meeting Isaac and Ray, and afterward I explained to them how God made His presence real to me through Isaac. Then, I told them in a simple, non-scary manner why I had new limitations—that I had an illness called lupus that is worse when I’m in sunlight.
I'm not sure how the subject turned from lupus to God, but it did. The four of us discussed Heaven. Cole, age six, emphasized that he wanted only Jesus in his mansion. I asked if I could visit, and he said yes. We then talked about who we wanted to meet first when we get there.
Will we sleep? Will there be rules? Will there be cars?
After taking the boys home, my heart felt like a balloon, ready to burst. I may not be able to play in the sun with my grandchildren anymore, but I can praise God for His unfailing love under the shade tree of my limitations and for precious talks about Jesus and heaven with my grandsons. What could be better?
I drove home, singing Isaac’s simple little words through my tears…"God is good….God is good….all the time."