A Memorable Christmas Gift

His mercy extends to those who fear him,

    from generation to generation.

He has performed mighty deeds with his arm;

Luke 1:50-51

Merry Christmas! And I trust it’s a day filled with joy for you. I have so many happy memories of past Christmases that resonate in my heart, but there’s one that’s especially meaningful.

It was the Friday before Christmas back in 1968. I was still rather new to my wheelchair. My diving accident occurred only 18 months earlier. And although I was out of the hospital and at home, I was feeling blue. Living with quadriplegia was still a new thing for me, yet already, I was weary of my paralysis. It was obvious I wasn’t going to be healed, and things weren’t getting easier.

But on the Friday evening before Christmas, a few friends dropped by my house. They knew I was struggling, and wanted to help. They announced, “Joni, we know how much you love to sing, so we are going to pile you into the front seat of the car and let’s all drive down to the old Pennsylvania Railway Station in Baltimore City. Let’s all go sing Christmas carols!”

“What?!” I said in disbelief.

“Why not?” they said, maneuvering my wheelchair out the front door and to the car. “C’mon, in that big old railway station? The acoustics are going to be great!”  

They transferred me out of my wheelchair and put me into my friend’s ‘65 Camaro and off we drove downtown. It was late, it was snowing and the red and green traffic lights with all the snowflakes made it feel so wonderfully like Christmas. I started to feel something I hadn’t sensed in many months… excitement!  

When we arrived, they lifted me out of the front seat and into my chair and wheeled me into the cavernous building with its arched stone ceiling and marble floors and pillars. The acoustics were wonderful, and although it was near midnight, we harmonized our hearts out, all of it echoing against the domed ceiling.

Suddenly a uniformed guard appeared.

“Okay, enough of this,” he barked. “This isn’t a Christmas party or a church. You young people need to clear out. See that sign? No loitering! So, get going. And you…” he growled at me, “you put that wheelchair back where you found it, missy!” 

I gave him a strange look. I said, “Sir, I wish I could get out of it, but I can’t. It’s mine.” The guard got angrier. “Don’t sass me. Now you put that wheelchair back!”  

“Honestly,” I said, “I’m paralyzed!”

He turned red and flustered. “Okay, well just get out of here. All of you!”

We howled with laughter all the way home.

And in between the giggling, tears started filling my eyes. The joy of the Lord was bursting open my heart. No, I didn’t get healed that Christmas of 1968. But in the eyes of a guard in the railway station, I was just a normal, energetic teenager hanging out with her friends.

And right there, in that place and time, God gave me the most wonderful Christmas gift: heaven sent joy and a healed heart.

May you receive that same gift this year: oh, I pray that God’s joy will overflow your heart and heal whatever hurt there may be. And Merry Christmas from all of us at Joni and Friends.  

Pray with me: God, I thank you that your mercy extends from generation to generation to those who fear you. Thank you for the mighty deeds you have performed in my little world, I am overwhelmed with joy when I think on them.