I Stood a Mendicant of God

I posted a few weeks ago about Steve Saint and his bad accident that left him paralyzed from the neck down.  He has since undergone surgery to relieve the pressure on his spinal cord and the paralysis has somewhat abated.  Here you can see how he has begun to regain some of his movement and strength in his limbs.

I've also talked on this blog about how much I appreciate Steve Saint and his insatiable appetite to be an innovator for the mission field.  The guy comes up with new inventions that help missionaries preach the gospel and do what they need to do on the mission field.  We need more guys like Steve Saint holding the rope for those going down into the well.  Actually, it's probably more accurate to say that Steve is not just holding the rope, but he's making a better rope.

Here's the latest update on Steve's recovery from his accident, produced by his company, I-tec.  This man's resolve and attitude throughout this process is inspiring and encouraging.  Rather than lamenting, or even learning to adapt to his new condition (let's face it: his life is forever changed; he's a 60+ year old guy who sustained a spinal cord injury - he won't ever be the same or be able to do those things he had done before the accident), he is instead looking for what God is doing in him through this accident. As you can see in the video, he's discovering things about himself and about God that he would have never known had he not been injured.  In a sense, the injury has been a blessing to him. Watch this video.  It's worth your six minutes.



The poem that Steve recites is as follows:

I stood, a mendicant of God, before his royal throne

and begged him for one priceless gift, which I could call my own.

I took the gift from out his hand, but as I would depart I cried, 

'But Lord, this is a thorn and it has pierced my heart. 

This is a strange and hurtful gift which thou hast given me.' 

He said, 'My child, I give good gifts. I gave my best to thee.' 

I took it home, and though at first the cruel thorn hurt sore, 

As long years passed I learned at last to love it more and more. 

I learned he never gives a thorn without this added grace:  

He takes the thorn to pin aside the veil which hides his face.