The world has changed so much since I was diagnosed with ALS way back in 1996. Sitting here in my bedroom paralyzed for the last twenty years, I’ve mostly been an observer of these changes. In the opinion of this observer, some changes have been good, others have been bad.
I’m fascinated by the evolution of the Internet and Smartphone technology. In 1996, my cellphone was big, bulky, and only able to make calls. There was no such thing as Google, YouTube, Facebook, Instagram, or Twitter, and Amazon was a little start-up selling books. Only one percent of the world’s population had Internet access. Today, the overwhelming majority of the world has Internet access, and there are more than 3.5 billion Smartphones in use.
I don’t think we can classify the Internet and smartphones as good or bad. They are merely tools. It’s what we do with them that becomes good or bad.
This COVID-19 pandemic introduced us to Social Distancing. As someone who’s been grounded to my room for the last two decades, I’m an old pro when it comes to social distancing. I am very thankful for this tool known as the World Wide Web. Even before starting this blog eight years ago, I was communicating with people all over the world.
I began connecting with people overseas ten years ago when I became an Online Missionary with Global Media Outreach. GMO was founded by a former Apple executive named Walt Wilson. With Steve Jobs, Walt was on the team that developed the Macintosh computers. The ministry shares the Good News through ads on social media in over 200 countries. To do this, they’re using over a hundred different domains in 50+ languages. They also use SEO (Search Engine Optimization), so one of their sites comes up first when people search using words like “God,” “Jesus,” “Bible,” or “Christianity.”
When someone clicks one of the ads or opens one of the sites, they are presented with the Good News. Afterward, they’re asked if they’d like to want to commit to follow Christ or learn more. If they click yes, they are connected to one of the thousands of Online Missionaries speaking their language. They might be connected to a paralyzed guy in Texas who can’t speak at all and is typing them with an eye-tracking computer. (If you want to see where GMO is making connections in real-time, click here).
Today, most of the GMO contacts are via cell phones, but when I started ten years ago, it was primarily computers. One of my first contacts was a woman in Sudan who walked three hours twice a week to use a computer at an Internet cafe. She was so eager to learn more and grateful for GMO and the easy to understand discipleship resources they provide.
Another contact was a young man in a Muslim country who committed to follow Christ after reading the Gospel message on a GMO site. His father and uncle were highly respected leaders in their town, and they were furious when he told them he was a Christian. His father threatened to stop paying for his college, thinking this would make him recant. When he refused, his father and uncle threatened to kill him. The last time I communicated with him, he was hiding out at the home of a moderate Muslim friend. He was already sharing the Gospel with his friend and with others.
Many of the people who haven’t heard the Gospel live in Iran, Saudi Arabia, China, North Korea, and other countries that missionaries don’t have access to. GMO can provide them with discipleship materials and digital Bibles.
“Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations…” (Matthew 28:19).
People have asked me why some Christians feel the need to evangelize. The short answer is – because Jesus told us to. That should be enough, but it’s also because those who have believed the Good News want to tell others. Last week, a friend emailed us and told us that Kroger has toilet paper. We were happy to hear that news. Regardless of what we believe, most of us want to pass along good news. Forgiveness of sins and the offer of eternal life with Christ is the best news in the history of the world! How could we not tell others?
(Jesus said) “…this gospel of the kingdom will be preached in the whole world as a testimony to all nations, and then the end will come.” (Matthew 24:14).
In Matthew 24, Jesus was telling His disciples the signs of the end times. It’s such an amazing prophecy when you put in the context of that time. He said “this gospel” thirty-five or forty years before Matthew wrote his Gospel. Jesus told this small group of disciples that the Good News would be proclaimed to the “whole world,” and to “all nations.” At the time he spoke those words, it’s estimated that the world’s population was around 300 million. Today there are 7 billion people on earth. With automobiles, planes, and especially the Internet, our generation is the first with the ability to fulfill this prophecy. And we will!
Before the COVID-19 pandemic, GMO was sharing the Gospel with an average of 350,000 a day. Since the pandemic began, they’ve been averaging 500,000. But they can handle two million per day. The only thing keeping GMO from reaching more people with the Good News is support to purchase more ads. If you can help with even a small gift to GMO, click here.
“Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations…” (Matthew 28:19).
As I wrote in my post last Thursday, Thanksgiving Day, I have been very ill. To be honest, I was praying for this long journey with ALS to end that night. I was looking forward to getting further along than I did in my near-death experience that I told you about in my last post. It’s funny to me now, but I was even giving God suggestions on how to take me out, “maybe a heart attack or an aneurysm…” My prayers might have been answered if it wasn’t for you people praying that I’d get better.
“Do not let your heart be troubled; believe in God, believe also in Me. “In My Father’s house are many dwelling places; if it were not so, I would have told you; for I go to prepare a place for you. “If I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to Myself, that where I am, there you may be also.” (John 14:1-3)
I know it’s hard to believe in this enlightened age, but I believe I am going to that place one day, maybe one day soon. However, your prayers are obviously more powerful than mine so I began getting much better after posting on Thanksgiving. By Sunday, I was breathing and feeling much better.
Then, an attack I never saw coming!
Mary has a very detailed routine for getting me ready for bed. This routine takes about thirty minutes if everything goes according to plan. Well, Monday night didn’t exactly go according to plan.
For many years I’ve had a bad case of TMJ. Because of this, I have worn a mouthguard on my top teeth to keep me from clinching when I sleep. The dentists have told me I have the worst case of TMJ they’ve seen. I would crack and crush my mouth guards. They finally made me one out of new stronger material, and they used extra material to make it twice as thick as a standard mouthguard.
Back to my story: Monday night, Mary put my mouthguard in, but it slipped off and began wandering around my mouth and quickly disappeared down my throat! Mary went into panic mode and started sticking fingers in my mouth. I didn’t do it on purpose, but I bit down on Mary’s fingers, and, of course, she screamed like a woman giving birth to a ten-pound baby.
She then put on a big leather glove and tried again, but I clamped down on fingers again. I suppose it’s a reflex reaction. The leather gloves didn’t help, she screamed loudly again. The mouth guard was so far back in my throat that Mary couldn’t even see it. She finally called 911, and eight minutes later, an ambulance pulled in the driveway, followed by a fire truck parked in the street. Before I knew it, six men were surrounding my bed, and two began fishing around in my mouth. I only bit one of them.
They couldn’t see the mouthguard either and began asking Mary if she was sure that it was in there. They were talking about intubating me and transporting me to the hospital. I gave Mary “the look,” and she told the guys that I have a Do Not Resuscitate order. I did not want to be intubated or be transported to the hospital.
We were at an impasse, they couldn’t fish the mouthguard from my throat, and I refused to go to the hospital. As I was lying there with the mouth guard mostly blocking my ability to breathe, I found the whole situation kind of funny. I’ve had ALS for twenty-three years, and I’ve been through numerous painful falls, several cases of horrible pneumonia and flu, and so much else. Now, my mouth guard is going to take me out? I know it’s dark humor, but it is funny in an ironic kind of way.
Obviously, I’m still alive. One of EMTs put my head back up, and when he did, the mouth guard dislodged and popped foreword. I looked at one of the guys, and it’s as if he was able to read my mind. He asked for a tool and slowly opened my mouth and retrieved the blood-covered mouthguard from the back of my mouth. Needless to say, I didn’t wear my mouth guard last night and will never wear it again.
I’m hoping to be able to sleep like Mary’s eighty-seven-year-old mom, who lives with us. She slept through Mary’s blood-curdling screams and, even though her bedroom is at the front of the house, she never heard the sirens or the commotion.
Thank you so much for your prayers!
“Blessed are you who weep now, for you shall laugh.” (Luke 6:21).
It’s hard for me to believe, but July 7th marked the seven-year anniversary of my Unshakable Hope blog. And, most surprising of all, after nearly twenty-three years with ALS, I’m still alive!
For Christians, the barren wilderness is a metaphor for life’s trials. I like this picture because rainbows, a sign of God’s promises, can be found even in the wilderness times of life. I also like that this wilderness path is wheelchair accessible.
I started this blog to share the hope I’ve found in Christ, with the goal of strengthening the faith and hope of other Christians going through trials. While in the midst of my own trial, this is one of the things that I believe God has called me to do. So many followers of Christ are going through difficult times. If anyone became a Christian thinking they would be exempt from trials, they will be sorely disappointed. Christians and non-Christians go through trials, the difference is that Christians can have peace and hope when life gets hard:
“…I have told you all this so that you may have peace in me. Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33).
Back in 2012, when I started blogging, I didn’t think about making new friends through my blog or reading posts on other blogs that would strengthen my hope and faith. This has been a great bonus. I now believe this is probably half the reason that God was prompting me to start my blog.
The name of my blog comes from a verse in the book of Hebrews. Seven years ago this month, as I was reading the Bible on my computer, just like I’ve done since losing my ability to flip the pages of a book thirteen years earlier, I scrolled down to Hebrews chapter eleven. This is one of my favorite chapters in the New Testament. It’s a chapter about holding onto faith while going through hardships. So many of God’s people have endured suffering by looking to Him for strength. This chapter lists several examples of true faith. These are men and women who refused to compromise their faith, even when doing so would have ended or lessened the trials they were facing. In short, Hebrews chapters eleven and twelve are about becoming eternally–minded.
The end of chapter twelve sums this up; telling followers of Christ to stay focused on our eternal hope. The temporary and material things can, and eventually will be destroyed. Created things, including the body we’re living in, will decay. In my case, ALS has turbocharged this process.
“…the removing of those things which can be shaken, as of created things, so that those things which cannot be shaken may remain.” (Hebrews 12:27)
After reading the Hebrews 12:27, I went online and bought the domain Unshakablehope.com and started this blog.
Unfortunately, trials don’t occur in a vacuum. The different parts of our lives are so interconnected that a trial of our health, like my being diagnosed with ALS at the age of thirty-six, affects virtually every other area of our lives. When I was diagnosed, it was as if an earthquake occurred; the career that God had blessed me with, and I had worked so hard to build, was removed. Because of this, our finances were greatly shaken. On and on it goes.
I won’t spend the time or waste the effort to list the “created” and temporal things that were removed or shaken in our life. Either you know firsthand or have witnessed the shock-waves and aftershocks that come from the epicenter of a horrible diagnosis, a job loss, a divorce, the death of a loved one, or another of life’s many earthquakes.
So many areas of our lives, including our health, can be shaken. But, if we look to God during our trials, our hope in Christ is one of the things that cannot be shaken.
Our hope in Christ is an Unshakable Hope!
“My soul, wait in silence for God only, For my hope is from Him. He only is my rock and my salvation, My stronghold; I shall not be shaken.” (Psalm 62:5-6)
Please don’t put your hope in temporary and created things, not even another person, because everything we see with our natural eyes will eventually disappoint us.
“Don’t let happiness depend on something you might lose.” C.S. Lewis
Have you ever had an itch that you couldn’t reach to scratch?
This is yet another frustrating aspect of having ALS; being paralyzed by this cruel disease, I cannot scratch my own itches. Over the twenty-two years of my having ALS, I’ve become pretty good at blocking out everyday itching from skin irritations.
The most irritating itches are those caused by insects!
When the weather is nice, I enjoy kicking back in my wheelchair on the patio and listening to audiobooks. This would be much more relaxing if the insects would leave me alone. They seem to know that I am powerless to swat them and take full advantage of this. Several times, mosquitoes have landed right on my forearm and have taken all of the blood they could handle. Their buzzing sounds a lot like laughter as they fly away, leaving me with an itchy bite I can’t scratch.
But worse than the bold mosquitoes are I demonic house flies. On more than a few occasions, these disgusting flies have conducted coordinated attacks on me. They’d fly into my nostrils and ears and land on my lips. It’s as if Beelzebub, the ancient pagan “lord of flies,” sent them to torment me. I’m only half joking. Sometimes I really do wonder what goes on “behind the scenes.”
Two weeks ago, I had a horrible itch on my left side that, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t overcome the urge to have it scratched. It was a burning itch as if I had been scalded by hot liquid. Mary lifted my shirt to investigate and discovered that I had bright red welts on the side of my waist. It looked like I really had been scalded by hot liquid. These red itchy welts quickly spread to my back.
It turned out to be shingles. The hospice doctor got me started right away on antibiotics and a cream for the welts. It was thankfully a minor case, there was not much pain, just ten days of itching.
Another kind of itching:
Just before he was beheaded under the Roman Emperor Nero, the last recorded words of the Apostle Paul were a warning about itching. Spending years chained in dungeons, with fleas, lice, and likely irritable skin conditions, I’m sure that Paul knew a lot about itching of the body. But he wouldn’t waste his last words on earth recommending essential oils for skin conditions (I get those recommendations from my daughter, Leah).
Paul issued a warning about the worst of all itches – spiritual itches:
“…the time of my departure has come. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the course, I have kept the faith…” “The time will come when they will not endure sound doctrine; but after their own lusts shall they heap to themselves teachers, having itching ears; And they shall turn away their ears from the truth, and shall be turned unto fables.” (2 Timothy 4:6-7 & 3-4).
At the age of twenty-three, I made a commitment to follow Christ. I wasn’t attending church at this time. In truth, I was still cynical about the whole“organized religion” thing. I don’t recommend this, but for the first three or four months, I didn’t attend church. However, I read the Bible every day. Some days I’d read the Bible for several hours. Before the first time I attended church, I made a commitment to God that if any preacher contradicted what I had been reading in the Bible, I’d stick with what the Bible taught and never attend that church again.
It’s been thirty-six years since I made that commitment and Mary and I have been members of two churches. Thankfully, we’ve never had any serious disagreements with what’s been preached by the pastors. The same can’t be said about some of the messages I’ve heard on television, the radio, and YouTube.
I know that there have been false teachers for all of the two thousand years of Christianity, but it’s never been as bad as it is now.“The time” that Paul warned us about just before being executed is here; we’re living in times of great deception.
Please read the Bible and walk away from anyone who contradicts it. It’s a matter of life and death –eternal life and death!
“You never know how much you really believe anything until its truth or falsehood becomes a matter of life and death to you.”― C.S. Lewis
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The Saturday before Easter Mary took me on a long trip. We went to visit our older daughter and our son-in-law, and our three adorable grandchildren. Their home is around seventy miles away from our house.
I know that seventy miles from home doesn’t seem like a long trip to most of you, but anything further than our mailbox is outside of this hermit’s comfort zone. I was somewhat hesitant about getting in the van after our last trip to look at a new neighborhood that is being built nearby didn’t turn out so well.
Unlike the newer smooth-driving minivans with wheelchair ramps, we have a big not-so-smooth-driving Ford van with a hydraulic wheelchair lift. My wheelchair weighs about three hundred and fifty pounds, and I weigh about a hundred and sixty-five pounds. So the lift has to raise and lower over five hundred pounds. Using the controls, Mary lowers the lift so my wheelchair can back onto it. She then raises me to the level of the van where I can then back in. Our van and the wheelchair lift are twenty-one years old, but both work well. Usually.
It was difficult for me to look around the new neighborhood because, like every other muscle in my body, my neck muscles are extremely weak, so with every turn of the van, my head swung back and forth. To people following us, I probably looked like a life-sized bobblehead figure. But, other than having a neck ache when we returned home from our brief excursion, everything went fine. Mary just had to get me out of the van and get me back into the house. If it were only that easy.
After raising the lift halfway, I saw a panicked look on her face. “The lift is stuck!” After she pushed the up and down buttons over and over, I concluded the obvious – I’d be spending the rest of my life stuck in the van. We taught our girls never to call 911 unless it was a real emergency. This situation wasn’t like a heart attack or a car accident, but I knew that Mary and her eighty-six-year-old mother were not going to lift me and my wheelchair out of the van. Mary called 911 and explained the situation, telling them not to hurry, but…
Within minutes I heard sirens in the distance, and they were getting louder and louder. As I sat there hoping that God would somehow keep our neighbors from hearing the sirens and seeing the flashing lights, a big firetruck parked in the street and an ambulance pulled in the driveway. Just ten minutes after Mary made that “no need hurry” call to 911, six men and a woman were standing in front of me scratching their heads.
I have an old manual wheelchair in our garage, and they were able to lift me out of my wheelchair and plop me in that wheelchair. They were then able to lift my heavy wheelchair out of the van and transfer me back. We are so thankful for first responders, I just wish they didn’t have to use sirens and flashing lights. I don’t know for sure, but I think some of my neighbors might have gotten a glimpse of me for the first time. Mary got the lift repaired the following day, and it works great now.
This was actually the second time we had to call 911 because of this wheelchair lift malfunctioning. The first time was a scary situation. About five years before this incident, on our wedding anniversary, Mary and I decided we would pretend that we were a normal couple and go to see a movie. Everything went fine until we exited the theater and saw the pouring rain. Thankfully, our van was parked only about a hundred feet from the doors of the theater. Handicap parking is great. I turned the speed of my wheelchair all the way up, and we made a mad dash to the van. Mary quickly opened the doors to the van and grabbed an umbrella to hold over us as she operated the lift. She’s the best!
Within two minutes I was on the lift being raised up to the level of the van where I would quickly back in, and we’d be out of the rain and on our way home. It didn’t quite work out that way. We heard a popping noise when she was raising me up. “That can’t be good,” I thought.
The lift went all the way up to the level of the van, but there was a two-inch gap between the lift and the floor of the van. This has never happened before, the lift is usually flush with the floor of the van. But, my wheelchair is great, I can roll over high thresholds and other minor obstacles like toys that our grandchildren have left lying around. I figured that getting over a two-inch gap would be no problem.
However, I failed to realize that the lift and the wheels of my wheelchair being wet would make jumping this gap really difficult. I still had the speed of my wheelchair on its highest setting, but couldn’t get over the gap and into the van. I tried again and again. I would inch my way to the front of the lift then quickly pull the joystick back. But when the small back wheels hit the gap, the big wheels would start spinning.
I kept trying. The rain increased. Umbrellas don’t work very well when the wind is blowing. We were soaked. “A few more tries and we’ll go back into the theater’s lobby and wait for the rain to stop,” I told myself. I tried again, and the strangest thing happened, something I couldn’t even imagine. Apparently, the engineers who designed this wheelchair lift didn’t envision this happening either.
When I pulled back on the joystick, the small back wheels got stuck in the gap, and the big wheels began spinning just as in previous times. But, instead of the wheelchair going over the gap and into the van, the floor of the lift shot out from under me, sailing over the parking space next to us and landing against a curb. The boy inside of me thought, “THAT WAS AWESOME!” Then, that pesky rational voice in my head quickly took over, wondering: “If the floor of the wheelchair lift just went skidding across the parking lot, what was holding my wheelchair and me three feet up in the air?”
I glanced over at Mary who looked like she was in shock: “Bill, don’t move.” She obviously forgot that I was paralyzed. Trying to remain calm, she explained that only the outside edges of the tires of my wheelchair were resting on the narrow angle iron that used to support the floor of the lift. If my wheels had not been perfectly centered on the lift, the wheelchair and its occupant would have fallen to one side or the other. It turns out that the only thing holding the floor of the lift to the narrow supports was a strip of double-sided tape.
After examining my precarious state, Mary determined that she could not lower the lift because the small back wheels were stuck in the gap and lowering the lift would dump me out onto the parking lot and the three hundred and the fifty-pound wheelchair would likely land on top of me. She called 911, and some big firemen showed up, crawled over the back seat, and pulled me into the van.
I am so thankful for things like wheelchairs, wheelchair lifts, and especially for this computer that allows someone like me to communicate and type blog posts. But I’ve learned the hard way not to put faith in technology or any man-made things.
Was God holding me and my wheelchair up when the floor of the lift shot out from under me?
“There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.” – Albert Einstein
It was so strange to be sitting in my wheelchair three feet up in the air with seemingly nothing under me. But, because the outside edges of the two big tires were resting on the narrow angle iron, there is a natural explanation for my wheelchair being suspended in midair. Therefore, I can’t claim that it was a miracle that the wheelchair didn’t fall when the floor shot out from under me.
However, Mary and I believe that this was a miracle because God has been “holding us up” throughout the twenty-two years of my having ALS. Just when we need assistance, He sends family or friends or, in this case, firemen, to help us.
We know that the life of faith can often feel like we’re suspended in midair. There are times that followers of Christ can feel like God has left us hanging. This is where our faith, trust, and hope in Christ are tested and strengthened.
Hang in there. God has not forgotten you.
“Do not fear, for I am with you; Do not anxiously look about you, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, surely I will help you, Surely I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.” (Isaiah 41:10)