By Esih Efuru
A few weeks back, I caught an annoying cold. I was aggravated, since I was working hard on a number of projects with hard deadlines. In addition, I had to prepare for my church’s four-day revival. I was physically weak and desperately sought the comfort of my cozy bed and a cup of Sleepy Time tea. I pushed myself through the first two days of the revival, and on the third day, arrived at my church achy but diligent. I’d determined that I would zoom straight for my plush comforter and that coveted cup of tea at the sign of the benediction.
As the praise team and I engaged the congregation in worship, I noticed a woman sitting in the rear frantically waving her hands. I was drawn to her worship as she moved into the aisle. I stifled a cough as I sang and closed my eyes for a moment. When I opened my eyes, she headed past other worshippers to the front. As she came closer to me, I became still and amazed. She had no feet!
This woman, waving her arms passionately with tears falling from her eyes, had left her wheelchair in the aisle, and walked on her limbs to the front of the sanctuary to dance and shout in praise. I was immediately convicted. How could I complain about a minor sickness when this humble servant was offering her entire being over to worship? I waved my arms high in encouragement as she worshipped to the music, and was instantly reminded of how blessed I was. Just when I thought I was having a bad day, I had to think again.