Beulah’s Story – Part 3 of the 'Spiritual Value and Chronic Illness' Series

By Craig Maupin at www.cfidsreport.com

In a small church nestled in Central Virginia, a woman is prepared to sing a song from the depths of her heart. Her body is confined to a wheelchair by a painful and debilitating illness, but her spirit is not bound. She believes every word she sings with passion and faith. Her singing is not a performance, and it is not meant to impress. It is an expression of belief in her God, and an outpouring of her deepest convictions. As she sings the words, I have no doubt that they are true. It is, 'Well with her Soul'.

She softly sings the melody with a quiet voice, but underneath that quiet voice is a woman who is very courageous. The strength of her spirit shouldn't be underestimated. She has seen more heartache in her life than many could comprehend. Her illness has been the cause of much suffering and physical pain. But despite it all, her spirit is alive; it is well. Her faith upholds her, and quiet strength resonates from her. It is a strength that has been forged in the fire's of life’s obstacles.

Her name is Beulah, and I have known her since I was a boy. Yet it took my own hardships and illness to really take notice of how remarkable Beulah is, and hence, to truly know her. When I was 17, I came down with an illness called CFS (also called Chronic Epstein-Barre at that time). Consequently, my life was put on hold. I was suffering deeply, changing from the cocky, brash young man I once was to one questioning my own strength. I grieved at the life experiences that I would not be able to have; and more importantly, questions I never contemplated were always on my mind. It was in response to these questions, that I thought more about Beulah.

Through my own hardships, I was given a perception and awareness of her beauty and vitality that I did not have before. Sometimes life’s difficulties can bring wisdom, and open our eyes to obvious lessons we never would have seen otherwise. And, there are many lessons that can be learned from Beulah, not just for me, but also for society as a whole.

A difficult beginning...

Beulah was born in Shinnston, West Virginia during the Great Depression, the first daughter of a coal miner. Early on in life she played like any child would. She remembers being very active, jumping rope, and bouncing a ball. She loved school, and she remembers the joy she felt at being able to learn to read. But shortly after Beulah turned seven, all of that was about to change, she began to feel sharp pain in her legs.

In the third grade, she remembers that her family moved to Morgantown, West Virginia. The house they lived in was at the top of a steep hill, and her legs were too painful to walk up the hill after a long day of school. “We lived up on a hill, and I had to crawl up the hill after school.” she told me. “They called it rheumatic fever at the time… I guess it was hard [to go to school], but I didn’t know it. I just did the best I could.”

Beulah didn’t have rheumatic fever. Her joints were slowly being fused together by rheumatic arthritis. In severe cases, rheumatic arthritis can destroy the cartilage between the joints, leaving the joints immobile and fused together. Beulah’s condition was very severe, and unfortunately at the time she got rheumatic arthritis, there weren’t many treatment options available. It was very painful.

This was the beginning of some very difficult struggles for Beulah. She had dreams like any other little girl. She loved school and learning so much, but due to her circumstances she was unable to attend as frequently as she would have preferred.

Pain she could feel, but that they couldn't see

Almost more difficult than her dreams being placed in jeopardy was the fact that many questioned the validity of her descriptions of her pain. At the time, she recalled the current technology and doctors treating her could make visable what was happening to her joints. “No one could see anything was wrong,” she recalls, “It was just pain, and the problems with my joints were not visible to them. The pain was so severe, but nobody would believe it because there was nothing you could see.”

Over the next 20 years Beulah would move often. She stayed with relatives who lived near a hospital. She stayed in a convalescent home in Berkeley Springs. While her location always changed, one thing remained the same. She often felt alone, like no one understood what she was going through. “Years ago, you were often just stuck in a room and forgotten. You can feel isolated because others don’t really understand what you are going through. Sometimes there are many people all around you, but because you are different, you are alone.”

When Beulah was 20, she was attending a church service and decided to commit herself to living her life for Christ. She recalled that experience warmly. “I felt great!” she said of the moment, “ I still feel great, I know God loves us so much, no matter where or what we are. I know God always is there. He never gives up on me. God knows none of us are perfect. If we were perfect, God would not have died for us. ”

This was the beginning of a strong faith, and even more so, a relationship, a relationship that Beulah would lean on in the days and years to come. Her hardships were not over, but she had a peace and a strength that came from Someone other than herself. “I believe in God, and I know God always works things out. He is there when you need Him, and He is even there when you don’t think you need Him.”

A wish comes true

When Beulah turned 25, her foremost childhood wish became a reality. A friend, whom she had previously met at the hospital in West Virginia, introduced her to a watch repairman who lived in Central Virginia. He was also disabled, and that gave them both a common life experience. He wrote Beulah faithfully, and in several months he went to West Virginia to see her. Soon, they were married. She recalls, “I was happy I got married. I was happy that I fell in love. You can never have enough love.”

Over the next few years, she was blessed with the birth of three boys. Those were the happiest years of Beulah’s life. She recalls, “I always wanted to be a wife and a mother. I always thought of it, always. Not a day went by when I didn’t think of it… When you become a mother, you become a different person. I love my boys.”

Beulah recalls the joy she felt watching her children grow up. She took pleasure in watching them take their first steps. She enjoyed the bustling activity and life they brought to her house. “I remember them running out the door to go with their Daddy. He always took them wherever he went. It reminded me of when I would ride with my Daddy. My husband took them to their grandmother’s several times a week before they started school. They liked that very much."

The walk

Shortly after her marriage, Beulah decided to have an operation on her feet. The bones of her feet had fused together in a way that made it difficult for her to balance herself. She hoped that an operation to straighten the soles of her feet would help her walk short distances. “After I had the children, I couldn’t walk. We asked for the operation. The doctor did the operation, and it turned out ok.”

After the operation, Beulah was ready to attempt to walk. But at that time she confronted what she feels are the views that many hold toward the disabled. Her doctors refused to give her a walker, even though both her husband and she requested one. She felt the use of the walker would grant her some movement and self-sufficiency. “He said he was sure I couldn’t do it. And then he said, ‘Even if you could walk, you can’t do much of anything anyway.” Beulah remembers going away hurt but very determined to prove his assessment of her wrong. “I fed the children. I bathed the children. I scrubbed and washed the floors. He didn’t know all the things I could do.”

To Beulah, that doctor’s mindset is indicative of a deep-seated prejudice that she feels is prevalent in people’s hearts. Her daily experiences have reinforced this impression. People observe a person with a physical disability that is real and challenging, and from this, they assume that the afflicted person’s mind, heart, and spirit are also disabled. “Often I wonder why many assume that because you are disabled, you have something inside you wrong too. They often think that you are stupid. It is sad, but it is true. I don’t think it will ever go away. I think that will always be with us.” The operation did enable Beulah to walk for a period of time.

Beulah would need a lot of strength in the years to come. An unforeseen heartbreak was looming on the horizon. She was about to suffer a sudden and devastatingly personal loss. As in her past, she would lean on her faith, and her spiritual foundation to guide her. Despite the most difficult of times in her future, a spiritual strength would grow in her, moving her forward.

Next week, the second part of Buelah's story...