The man in the wheelchair
By Bill Shepard
Some years ago, I was called to preach a two-week revival at a little church in West Greenville.
I was living in Florida. I agreed to the request. Church services were being held in an old, empty store building.
Across the street from the building was a large and empty lot that was for sale. The pastor of the small congregation had a desire to purchase the lot and wanted to build a new church in which to worship.
I arrived at the designated time, and the announced services began. There was good attendance from the first meeting to the last. I knew that God was favoring our efforts. The word was spreading that Revival was happening at the church in the old store building. The Lord was at work, people were coming and Revival was happening!
The small building was filled to capacity each night. The Lord moved upon the people to give freely of their means and large offerings were received each night. I felt moved to say to the pastor that I would receive no money for my services. I agreed that all money, in the way of my support, would go toward purchasing the lot across the street to build a new church building. God was truly at work and we could see it happening each time when we met.
One of the unforgettable highlights of the entire meetings happened on the Sunday morning that I stood up to preach. I had noticed a visitor had entered the building, sitting in a wheelchair. The chair was rolled to a vacant spot, as near to the front as it could be. I saw that the man, sitting in the chair, had no legs.
Before beginning my sermon, I felt the need to ask if anyone needed special prayer and immediately, the man in the wheelchair began moving his chair toward the altar, before the pulpit. Others began to follow. Revival was happening before our eyes.
The man in the chair lifted his hands toward heaven and began praising and thanking God for coming into his life. No, I did not preach that morning; neither did God give the man two new legs! God did something far greater. He forgave him for all of his sins and gave him a new beginning!
The Revival ended and I returned to my home in Florida. Not many days passed and I heard that the man I had met, the one in the wheelchair, had died. I immediately sat down and wrote the following poem and sent it to the nursing home where he lived. They printed the poem in their monthly bulletin. Here it is . . .
“The Man in the Wheelchair”
(Ray Greene)
He sat in a chair pushed up to the wall,
Both legs were missing, the saddest part of all.
A radiant smile beamed across his face,
I knew he was endowed with a special kind of grace.
The sermon was over and I walked toward his chair,
Sliding down his cheek was a glistening tear.
No self-pity, no bitterness did I see,
He just smiled and said, “The Lord has been good to me.”
He reached out his hand and said, “My name is Ray.”
The countenance of his face, like the dawning of the day.
“My name is Bill,” I said and I knew that this day,
Another lasting friend had come my way.
We sat and talked for quite a little while;
I was fascinated by his attitude and smile.
He talked of God’s blessings and His goodness there,
As he sat legless, in a shiny wheelchair.
And I thought of so many who never seem to have a care,
Who pass through life with no such burden to bear,
And I thought of myself with God’s blessings divine,
And I whispered, “God, forgive me, whenever I whine.”
We shook hands again, as I backed away,
I knew that I had met an unusual man that day,
And somehow I felt that the angels hovered there,
As I talked with the man, in the old wheelchair.
He asked, “Is it alright if I call you Uncle Bill?”
“Yes, yes,” I said, “I’ll be glad if you will.”
And I’ll just call you Ray, my friend in a chair,
Who goes about with a smile, spreading joy here and there.
And when life is over for both of us here,
I know of a place where there are no wheelchairs,
And with two new legs, sturdy and strong,
Brother Ray will dance with the Heavenly throng.
Along the streets of gold, with a smile on his face,
He’ll tell the story of God’s amazing grace
That enabled a man to smile through his tears,
Though he spent his time legless, in an old wheelchair.
