Driving away from the Rehab Unit my Favourite Wife was wearing a highly inappropriate, ear to ear grin. She was very obviously thinking that because I now had a wheelchair she would finally be able to push me around!

Once we got the bulky contraption home – the wheels have to come off before it will fit it in our rather small car – I found myself quickly retracing very familiar steps. The first question was where to hide it! My family would soon be coming home so I tried frantically, but the borrowed hospital wheelchair proved far harder to hide than my aluminum crutches had been just 7 weeks earlier. Instead, I struck on a much bolder course! I had dreaded this day for a long time, not knowing when or if it would finally arrive. But the day had come, and it was proving more bearable and less intimidating than I had imagined. Courage seemed to be rising in me, I felt oddly galvanized by the task of engaging in the future. I decided that I would deal with my fear by telling the world. So instead of hiding the wheelchair I photographed it, and posted it on Facebook with a one word caption: ‘Bugger’.

I’m not at all comfortable saying that word! (In fact I’ve deleted it and retyped it several times). It’s not the way I speak, but it’s the right word this time. If I could say it out loud rather than just write it; I would say it with a smile. A grin in fact. I’d say it with a larrikin, knock about conviction. A bit like the Toyota add a couple of years back. A week out from Christmas this definitely isn’t the gift I was hoping for. It’s an unwanted intrusion into my world; but it’s also a challenge. A horse to be broken, a tool to be used. It’s not what I want, but I recognize what I need.

I’ve learned something about Christmas in this ‘gift unwelcome’. In a few days we will celebrate the gift of God’s Son, but for some 2000 years the world has largely rejected the message of Christmas, pursuing greed and self interest instead. Christ is what the world needs, but not at all what it wants. The message of Christ is one of self sacrifice, but our world celebrates with indulgence and excess as if to silence the voice that calls us to walk in Christ’s footsteps: “If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me” (Luke 9).

I must confess that I haven’t tried the wheelchair yet. For two days we have been staring at each other in silent combat. There is a matter to be resolved between us before we can travel the road ahead: who will be in charge? We have been forced together by circumstances beyond our control, and we are unlikely travelling companions. Will I own the wheelchair, or will it own me? It crouches in the corner, trying to intimidate me. But I think I can see the edge of fear in its eyes. I’m almost sure I saw it flinch. I think I’ve got it beaten!