Danny Isaac states. His smile beams as the glaring sunlight bounces off his face. He sits tall in his wheelchair as he continues. “The past few years I’ve thought in my head, ‘Would I give up my wheelchair to walk again?’”
At eight months old Danny’s life changed dramatically overnight. He had just learned to roll over, delighting his parents under the careful eyes of his three older brothers. No one could see the unknown virus that would attack his body that evening and leave him paralyzed from the neck down.
Danny regained control of his upper body, from his fingertips up, but from the mid-chest down he is officially paralyzed. His physical growth is stunted, but his spiritual development is unveiling faith muscles few will ever develop. “My faith with God is still the same. It’s just unique to me and my wheelchair.”
Danny folds his hands on his lap. In returning to the question of wishing he could walk, Danny’s hands raise to emphasize his point. “No, I wouldn’t. It shapes me. It shapes who I am. It’s almost like asking, ‘Would you want to be a different person?’”
Danny looks to the ground, rocking his wheelchair forward in a thinking gesture. “God has made me unique. God has made me uniquely in his image.”
Danny looks ahead confidently. “In Revelation 21:4-5, a proclamation is made that there will be no more pain, no more crying.” Danny’s eyes are closed now, his hand raised slightly in a fist as if he’s making a declaration. “No more suffering. God will wipe every tear from your eye. He is sitting on his throne, and God proclaims, ‘Behold, I am making all things new.’” A smile darts across Danny’s face.
“Though I would not trade my wheelchair in this life, the brokenness in me, what really stands out, is that my disability is not on my outside. It’s on my inside. My broken sinful nature—that cannot walk on its own—God will heal it.”
Danny says he hasn’t experienced a lot of pain and suffering in his own life, yet he has seen it. He has taken mission trips, including one to the Dominican Republic, where he visited several impoverished villages. Recalling his trip, Danny said, “I have seen suffering and pain. This world is obviously broken and in pieces.”
As our time together comes to a close, Danny looks down to his hands. The sun reflects off his wheelchair as he works to illuminate an understanding of how God has directed his attitude. “He’s making us new. He’s fixing us. He’s healing us, so we can walk again.”