My disability is not a lesson sent by God
There is a less than helpful belief that still shows up in church spaces, spoken or unspoken: that God sends disability, sickness, or hardship to teach us a lesson. It might sound spiritual on the surface, but underneath it paints God as an abusive parent. That is not who He is.
God does not injure His children to grow them. He is a good Father, all the time, in every season, in every body.
My Disability Is Real, but It Is Not My Identity
I live with a real, named disability. I go to real appointments with real doctors. They are not my enemies. They are not cursing me by giving a diagnosis a name. They are simply describing what is going on in my body.
My disability is part of my reality, but it is not my identity. My identity is rooted in Christ, not in what my body can or cannot do on any given day.
Some Christians worry that saying, “I am disabled,” will somehow give the enemy extra power. I do not believe that. Naming what is physically true does not dethrone Jesus. Our words carry weight, but the Cross carries more. No definition of a disability can overpower His word.
God Is Not an Abusive Parent
Many of us have heard versions of this message: “Maybe God allowed this disability to teach you something.” Or, “He gave you this illness so you would depend on Him more.” Or, even worse,” God chose you to be example to the Body of Christ on how to live victoriously, through your suffering.” On the surface these all sound pious, but they all quietly accuses the nature of God.
Scripture gives us a very different picture. Jesus says,
“Every good thing given and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shifting shadow.” (James 1:17 NASB1995)
Good and perfect gifts come from the Father. Darkness, harm, and destruction do not. We do not get to call something “good” just because we learned how to survive it. God can work in all things, but that does not mean He sent all things.
Living in the Tension of Unanswered Healing
I have prayed for people and watched God heal them. I have seen pain lift, mobility return, and bodies respond in ways that only He could explain. I have also prayed for people and seen no visible change in that moment.
I have prayed for my own healing many times. I have had others pray for me as well and have seen visible improvement. Even so, my disability has not c0mpletely disappeared. I have I do not fully know why but I also don’t need to know why.
Here is what I do know: I will not build my theology on what I have not seen yet. I build my theology on the goodness of God, revealed in Jesus. I let my unanswered questions sit inside that goodness, not over top of it.
Refusing the Blame Game
In some circles, there is a quiet blame game that gets attached to healing. It often sounds like this: “If the person was not healed, maybe they did not have enough faith. Maybe they said the wrong thing. Maybe they have hidden sin. Maybe they blocked their own healing without realising it.”
This kind of thinking lays heavy burdens on people who are already suffering. It places the weight of the outcome on the shoulders of the person who is sick or the one who prayed. It does not look like Jesus, and it does not reflect His heart.
I have many friends around the world who live with disabilities. The ones who are thriving in their walk with God and in their contribution to society share a common foundation: they are convinced that God is good, that He does not send illness to teach them, and that He is with them in the tension.
What Shapes My Beliefs About God
For me, everything comes back to this: I want my view of God to be shaped by Jesus, not by my pain. My disability is real, but it does not get the final say about who God is.
Sickness does not speak for God. His goodness does.
I can live honestly about my limitations and still hold firm to His kindness. I can name the struggles and still believe for healing. I can pray again and again, without shame and without blame, because my hope rests in who He is, not in my ability to get everything right.
Safe in Mystery, Steady in Hope
We will not have every answer on this side of eternity. There will be “whys” that remain unanswered. There will be prayers that seem to hang in the air longer than we would like.
It is possible to live in that mystery and still be at peace with God. It is possible to say, “I do not understand everything,” while also saying, “I still believe You are good.”
Disability never comes as a lesson from God. But God is with me in every part of my story, including the parts that have not been healed yet. He is not punishing me. He is not using me as an object lesson.
Simply said, I am His child. You are His child. And He is good, always.
Until Next Week
©2025 Katherine Walden
