The Invisible Man has always stood out to me. He could do anything and be unnoticed, and no one would realize his existence. Many times, I wanted to be like him, but in many other occasions I wanted to be recognized, praised, valuable, be taken into consideration; I wanted to make my family and friends from church happy when I was with them. Nevertheless, it was not always like that. For many years, I was invisible, not like a superhero, though. I carried it in my DNA, and it was infused within my bones; I was invisible, and the worst part is that I didn't even realize. I thought that my life was reduced to not having friends, to live preferably alone because “that was better than being around people but feeling rejected,” I thought. “Making friends is not my thing.” Invisibility had been silently infusing in every area of my life through the years. Invisibility had ravaged my creativity and my vision.
I noticed it one day. I was in class at church, when the Pastor started telling us stories about people that had gone through difficult moments. I remember the story about a woman that had struggled with depression, loneliness, insomnia, and physical contact. In prayer, God showed her that when she was born, she was desired and loved by her parents. But the delivery nurse on duty was supposed to end her shift when she was born, yet the replacement didn’t arrive. So the nurse was very frustrated when she received the baby because she had to work extra time. The nurse took the baby and dropped carelessly it where the newborns are cleaned and taken care of. God showed the woman how that moment was used to destroy her future.
While the Pastor was telling the story, I saw in my mind the moment when I was born. My mom had told me about it. My dad was in prison, my mom lived alone with two more children, one 4 years old and the other 3 years old. Because of fear, my mom did not go the hospital. Instead, she locked herself in one of the rooms of our house and she delivered me by herself. I always thought my mom was very brave, and she was, but I hadn’t seen the spiritual implications those circumstances brought. In class, that day, I saw it. My eyes were open and I saw that moment as clear as if I had been there. I saw my mom in pain resting against the door by herself, pushing me out. When I was born, the umbilical cord was wrapped around my neck, suffocating me. I was purple, and the was no one there to receive me, no gifts, or anyone; just an empty room. I saw how loneliness, scarcity of vision and creativity, fear, and invisibility entered my life.
I also saw my current life. I had married a few years back, but my home didn’t have any kind of decoration. I couldn’t come up with anything. Every time I thought about decorating my house my mind was empty. I was used to few people seeing me or saying hi, or remembering my name. My husband was always the popular one. People would greet him and remember his name. I wasn’t fun, or good with people. I didn’t believe there was anything big for me, or that I was important and valuable. I was invisible in many areas of my life, and I thought God had made me like that. But deep in my heart I was longing to be someone else.
I was already a Christian, and I had known God’s word for many years. I memorized it. But I didn’t know why my life was void. I tried to be different, but my nature would not allow it. When God opened my eyes, I understood why my life was restrained. Everything was connected. Nobody received me when I was born, my dad was gone; nobody went to see me; the room was empty; there was nothing to celebrate my birth, no gifts. And that was my current life: empty, blind, and invisible.
Seeing those images in my mind deeply saddened my heart. And I felt inexplicable pain. I saw my life and I felt pain that I had not felt before. I sought help from church leaders, and in prayer, God spoke to me and I was able to see that He had always been there. In the spiritual world, He revealed me the plan he had for me. He unveiled how he designed me: creative, conversational, loving, good with children, friendly, fun. But over all of that, He revealed that I had always been His spoiled girl, the apple of His eye, His loved one. In that moment, God transformed my nature: my DNA. I was renewed because of His truth and His love. I was crippled spiritually. Miracle! The arm I lost when I was born grew back. Jesus came and healed me. What a joy!
Since then, I love to work with my hands. I paint, have decoration projects, and enjoy painting wood, and writing cards. I have friends, and enjoy them and enjoy talking to them. I enjoy writing, and now I am greeted. It sounds weird, but it's the truth.
You know, this didn’t only happen to me. It happened to Mephibosheth many centuries ago. His story is in 2 Samuel 9. When he was 5 years old, Mephibosheth’s nurse dropped him while running for their lives, and he was crippled (2 Samuel 4:4). He then lived in Lo Debar, which means “No grass,” “no word,” or “no communication.” That is where I was living too. But then God calls Mephibosheth to the King’s table and restores his life.
That is my God. The God of the Crippled.
P.S. The person in the picture is Nick Vujicic, his wife and children.
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