CONTENTS

Introduction

One: If You Can't Get A Miracle, Become One

Two: No Arms, No Legs, No Limits

Three: Full Assurance In The Heart

Four: Love The Perfectly Imperfect You

Five: Attitude Is Altitude

Six: Armless But Not Harmless

Seven: Don't Let Your Face Plant Grow Roots

Eight: The New Bloke In The Bushes

Nine: Trust Others, More Or Less

Ten: An Equal Opportunity Hugger

Eleven: The Ridiculous Rules

Twelve: Make Giving Your Mission

Acknowledgments

Resources: Get Plugged Into Philanthropy

Photos

GOD: The Father, Son, and Holy Spirit I'd also like

to dedicate this book to the Toth family in San

Diego, California, as I will never forget the

cornerstone of faith Phil placed in my life. His

contagious flame for evangelism marked the

beginning of mine.

INTRODUCTION

My name is Nick Vujicic (pronounced Voy-a-chich). I

am twenty-seven years old. I was born without any

limbs, but I am not constrained by my circum-

stances. I travel the world encouraging millions of

people to overcome adversity with faith, hope, love,

and courage so that they may pursue their dreams.

In this book I will share with you my experiences in

dealing with adversity and obstacles, some of them

unique to me but most universal to us all. My goal is

to encourage you to overcome your own challenges

and hardships so you can find your own purpose and

pathway to a ridiculously good life.

Often we feel life is unfair. Hard times and tough

circumstances can trigger self-doubt and despair. I

understand that well. But the Bible says, "Consider it

pure joy, whenever you face trials of any kinds." That

is a lesson I struggled many years to learn. I even-

tually figured it out, and through my experiences I

can help you see that most of the hardships we face

provide us with opportunities to discover who we

are meant to be and what we can share of our gifts to

benefit others.

My parents are devout Christians, but after I was

born with neither arms nor legs, they wondered

what God had in mind in creating me. At first they

assumed that there was no hope and no future for

someone like me, that I would never live a normal or

productive life.

Today, though, my life is beyond anything we could

have imagined. Every day I hear from strangers via

telephone, e-mail, text, and Twitter. They approach

me in airports, hotels, and restaurants and hug me,

telling me that I have touched their lives in some

way. I am truly blessed. I am ridiculously happy.

What my family and I could not foresee was that my

disability—my "burden"—could also be a blessing,

offering me unique opportunities for reaching out to

others, empathizing with them, understanding their

pain, and offering them comfort. Yes, I do have

distinct challenges, but I also am blessed with a

loving family, with a keen enough mind, and with a

deep and abiding faith. I'll be candid here and

throughout the book in sharing that neither my faith

nor my sense of purpose grew strong until I went

through some very scary times.

You see, as I entered those difficult adolescent years

when we all wonder where we fit in, I despaired over

my circumstances, feeling that I never would be

"normal." There was no hiding the fact that my body

was not like my classmates'. As much as I tried to do

ordinary activities like swimming and skate-

boarding, I would only become more and more

aware that there were simply some things I would

never be able to do.

It didn't help that a few cruel kids called me a freak

and an alien. Of course, I'm all too human and

wanted to be like everyone else, but there seemed

little chance for that. I wanted to be accepted. I felt I

wasn't. I wanted to fit in. It seemed I didn't. And I hit

a wall.

My heart ached. I was depressed, overwhelmed with

negative thoughts, and didn't see any point in my life.

I felt alone even when I was surrounded by family

and friends. I worried that I would always be a

burden to those I loved.

But I was so, so wrong. What I didn't know back in

those dark days could fill a book: the one you're

holding, actually. In the pages that follow, I will offer

you methods for finding hope even amid arduous

trials and heartbreaking tribulations. I'll light the

path to the other side of grief where you can emerge

stronger, more determined, and empowered to

pursue the life you want, and perhaps even to find a

life beyond any you could have imagined.

If you have the desire and passion to do something,

and it's within God's will, you will achieve it. That's a

powerful statement. To be honest, I didn't always

believe it myself. If you've seen one of my talks

posted on the Internet, the happiness I have that

shines through in those videos is the result of the

journey I've made. I didn't have everything I needed

at first and had to pick up several important

attributes along the way. To live without limits, I

found I needed:

•

A powerful sense of purpose

•

Hope so strong that it cannot be diminished

•

Faith in God and the infinite possibilities

•

Love and self-acceptance

•

Attitude with altitude

•

A courageous spirit

•

Willingness to change

•

A trusting heart

•

Hunger for opportunities

•

The ability to assess risks and to laugh at life

•

A mission to serve others first

Each chapter in this book is devoted to one of those

attributes, explained in such a way that I hope you

can put them to use in your own journey toward a

fulfilling and meaningful life. I'm offering them to

you because I share God's love for you. I want you to

experience all the joy and fulfillment He intended for

you.

If you are one of the many people struggling each

day, keep in mind that beyond my own struggles

there was a purpose for my life awaiting me. And it

has proven to be far, far, far beyond anything I ever

could have imagined.

You may hit hard times. You may fall down and feel

as though you don't have the strength to get back up.

I know the feeling, mate. We all do. Life isn't always

easy, but when we overcome challenges, we become

stronger and more grateful for our opportunities.

What really matters are the lives you touch along the

way and how you finish your journey.

I love my life just as I love yours. Together, the

possibilities for us are just ridiculous. So what do you

say? Shall we give it a go, mate?

LIFE

WITHOUT

LIMITS

CHAPTER ONE

If You Can't Get A

Miracle, Become One

One of my most popular videos on YouTube shows

footage of me skateboarding, surfing, playing music,

hitting a golf ball, falling down, getting up, speaking

to audiences, and best of all, receiving hugs from all

sorts of great people.

All in all, those are pretty ordinary activities that just

about anybody can do, right? So why do you think

that video has been viewed millions of times? My

theory is that people are drawn to watch it because

despite my physical limitations, I'm living as though I

have no limits.

People often expect someone with a severe disability

to be inactive, maybe even angry and withdrawn. I

like to surprise them by showing that I lead a very

adventurous and fulfilling existence.

Among the hundreds of comments on that video,

here's one typical remark: "Seeing a guy like this

being happy makes me wonder why the hell I feel

sorry for myself sometimes ... or feel that I'm not

attractive enough, or funny enough, or WHATEVER.

How can I even think thoughts like that when this

guy is living without limbs and still being HAPPY!?"

I'm often asked that very question: "Nick, how can

you be so happy?" You may be dealing with your own

challenges, so I'll give you the quick answer up front:

I found happiness when I realized that as imperfect

as I may be, I am the perfect Nick Vujicic. I am God's

creation, designed according to His plan for me.

That's not to say that there isn't room for improve-

ment. I'm always trying to be better so I can better

serve Him and the world!

I do believe my life has no limits. I want you to feel

the same way about your life, no matter what your

challenges may be. As we begin our journey together,

please take a moment to think about any limitations

you've placed on your life or that you've allowed

others to place on it. Now think about what it would

be like to be free of those limitations. What would

your life be if anything were possible?

I'm officially disabled, but I'm truly enabled because

of my lack of limbs. My unique challenges have

opened up unique opportunities to reach so many in

need. Just imagine what is possible for you!

Too often we tell ourselves we aren't smart enough

or attractive enough or talented enough to pursue

our dreams. We buy into what others say about us, or

we put restrictions on ourselves. What's worse is that

when you consider yourself unworthy, you are

putting limits on how God can work through you!

When you give up on your dreams, you put God in a

box. After all, you are His creation. He made you for

a purpose. Therefore your life cannot be limited any

more than God's love can be contained. I have a

choice. You have a choice. We can choose to dwell on

disappointments and shortcomings. We can choose

to be bitter, angry, or sad. Or when faced with hard

times and hurtful people, we can choose to learn

from the experience and move forward, taking

responsibility for our own happiness.

As God's child, you are beautiful and precious, worth

more than all the diamonds in the world. You and I

are perfectly suited to be who we were meant to be!

Even still, it should always be our goal to become an

even better person and stretch our boundaries by

dreaming big. Adjustments are necessary along the

way because life isn't always rosy, but it is always

worth living. I'm here to tell you that no matter what

your circumstances may be, as long as you are

breathing, you have a contribution to make.

I can't put a hand on your shoulder to reassure you,

but I can speak from the heart. However desperate

your life may seem, there is hope. As bad as circum-

stances appear, there are better days ahead. No

matter how dire your circumstances may appear,

you can rise above them. To wish for change will

change nothing. To make the decision to take action

right now will change everything!

All events come together for the good. I'm certain of

that because it's been true in my life. What good is a

life without limbs? Just by looking at me, people

know that I faced and overcame many obstacles and

hardships. That makes them willing to listen to me as

a source of inspiration. They allow me to share my

faith, to tell them they are loved, and to give them

hope.

That is my contribution. It's important to recognize

your own value. Know that you also have something

to contribute. If you feel frustrated right now, that's

okay. Your sense of frustration means you want more

for your life than you have right now. That's all good.

Often it's the challenges in life that show us who we

are truly meant to be.

A LIFE OF VALUE

It took me a long time to see the benefits of the

circumstances I was born into. My mum was twenty-

five years old when she became pregnant with me,

her first child. She'd been a midwife and worked as a

pediatric nurse in charge in the delivery room where

she provided care for hundreds of mothers and their

babies. She knew what she had to do while she was

pregnant, watching her diet, being cautious about

medications, and not consuming alcohol, aspirin, or

any other pain-killers. She went to the best doctors

and they assured her everything was proceeding

smoothly.

Even still, her apprehension persisted. As her due

date approached, my mum shared her concerns with

my father several times, saying, "I hope that

everything's okay with the baby."

When two ultrasounds were performed during her

pregnancy, the doctors detected nothing unusual.

They told my parents that the baby was a boy but not

a word about missing limbs! At my delivery on

December 4, 1982, my mother could not see me at

first, and the first question she asked the doctor was

"Is the baby all right?" There was silence. As the

seconds ticked by and they were still not bringing the

baby for her to see, she sensed even more that

something was wrong. Instead of giving me to my

mother to hold, they summoned a pediatrician and

moved off to the opposite corner, examining me and

conferring with each other. When my mum heard a

big healthy baby scream, she was relieved. But my

dad, who had noticed I was missing an arm during

the delivery, felt queasy and was escorted out of the

room.

Shocked at the sight of me, the nurses and doctors

quickly wrapped me up.

My mother, who'd participated in hundreds of

deliveries as a nurse, wasn't fooled. She read the

distress on the faces of her medical team, and she

knew something was very wrong.

"What is it? What's wrong with my baby?" she

demanded.

Her doctor would not answer at first, but when she

insisted on a response, he could offer my mother

only a specialized medical term.

"Phocamelia," he said.

Because of her nursing background, my mother

recognized the term as the condition babies have

when they are born with malformed or missing

limbs. She simply couldn't accept that this was true.

In the meantime, my stunned dad was outside,

wondering whether he had seen what he thought he

saw. When the pediatrician came out to speak to

him, he cried out, "My son, he has no arm!"

"Actually," the pediatrician said as sensitively as

possible, "your son has neither arms nor legs."

My father went weak with shock and anguish.

He sat stunned, momentarily unable to speak before

his protective instincts kicked in. He rushed in to tell

my mother before she saw me, but to his dismay he

found her lying in bed, crying. The staff had already

told her the news. They had offered to bring me to

her but she refused to hold me and told them to take

me away.

The nurses were crying. The midwife was crying.

And of course, I was crying! Finally they put me next

to her, still covered, and my mum just couldn't bear

what she was seeing: her child without limbs.

"Take him away," she said. "I don't want to touch him or see him."

To this day my father regrets that the medical staff

did not give him time to prepare my mother

properly. Later, as she slept, he visited me in the

nursery. He came back and told Mum, "He looks

beautiful." He asked her if she wanted to see me at

that point, but she declined, still too shaken. He

understood and respected her feelings.

Instead of celebrating my birth, my parents and their

whole church mourned. "If God is a God of love,"

they wondered, "why would He let something like

this happen?"

MY MUM'S GRIEF

I was my parents' firstborn child. While this would

be a major cause for rejoicing in any family, no one

sent flowers to my mum when I was born. This hurt

her and only deepened her despair.

Sad and teary-eyed, she asked my dad, "Don't I

deserve flowers?"

"I'm sorry," Dad said. "Of course you deserve them."

He went to the hospital flower shop and returned

shortly to present her with a bouquet.

I was aware of none of this until the age of thirteen

or so, when I began to question my parents about my

birth and their initial reaction ton my lack of limbs.

I'd had a bad day at school, and when I told my mum,

she cried with me. I told her I was sick of having no

arms and legs. She shared my tears and said that she

and my dad had come to understand that God had a

plan for me and one day He would reveal it. My

questions continued over time, sometimes with one

parent, sometimes with both. Part of my search for

answers was natural curiosity and part of it was in

response to the persistent questions I'd been fielding

from curious classmates.

At first, I was a little scared of what my parents might

tell me, and, since some of this was difficult for them

to delve into, I didn't want to put them on the spot. In

our initial discussions my mum and dad were very

careful and protective in their responses. As I grew

older and pushed harder, they offered me deeper

insights into their feelings and their fears because

they knew I could handle it. Even so, when my mum

told me that she didn't want to hold me after I was

born, it was hard to take, to say the least. I was

insecure enough as it was, but to hear that my own

mother could not bear to look at me was . . . well,

imagine how you might feel. I was hurt and I felt

rejected, but then I thought of all that my parents

have done for me since. They'd proven their love

many times over. By the time we had these

conversations, I was old enough to put myself in her

situation. Other than her intuitive feelings, there'd

been no warning of this during her pregnancy. She

was in shock and frightened. How would I have

responded as a parent? I'm not sure I would have

handled it as well as they did. I told them that, and

over time we went more and more into the details.

I'm glad that we waited until I was secure, knowing

deep in my heart of hearts that they loved me. We've

continued to share our own feelings and fears, and

my parents have helped me understand how their

faith enabled them to see that I was destined to serve

God's purpose. I was a fiercely determined and

mostly upbeat child. My teachers, other parents, and

strangers often told my parents that my attitude

inspired them. For my part, I came to see that as

great as my challenges were, many people had

heavier burdens than mine.

Today in my travels around the world, I often see

incredible suffering that makes me grateful for what

I have and less inclined to focus on what I may lack. I

have seen orphaned children with crippling diseases.

Young women forced into sexual slavery. Men

imprisoned because they were too poor to pay a debt.

Suffering is universal and often unbelievably cruel,

but even in the worst of slums and after the most

horrible tragedies, I have been heartened to see

people not only surviving but thriving. Joy was

certainly not what I expected to find in a place called

"Garbage City," the worst slum at the edge of Cairo,

Egypt. The Manshiet Nasser neighborhood is tucked

into towering rock cliffs. The unfortunate but

accurate nickname and the community's rank odor

come from the fact that most of its fifty thousand

residents sustain themselves by combing through

Cairo, dragging its garbage there, and picking

through it. Each day they sort through mountains of

refuse pulled from a city of eighteen million

residents, hoping to find objects to sell, recycle, or

somehow make use of.

Amid streets lined with garbage piles, pig pens, and

stinking trash, you would expect people to be

overcome with despair, yet I found it to be quite the

opposite on a visit in 2009. The people there live hard

lives, to be sure, but those I met were very caring,

seemingly happy, and filled with faith. Egypt is 90

percent Muslim. Garbage City is the only pre-

dominantly Christian neighborhood. Nearly 98

percent of the people are Coptic Christians.

I've been to many of the poorest slums in all corners

of the world. This was one of the worst as far as the

environment, but it was also one of the most heart-

warming in spirit. We squeezed nearly 150 people

into a very small concrete building that served as

their church. As I began speaking, I was struck by the

joy and happiness radiating from my audience. They

were simply beaming at me. My life has rarely

seemed so blessed. I gave thanks that their faith

lifted them above their circumstances as I told them

how Jesus had changed my life too.

I spoke with church leaders there about how lives in

the village had changed through the power of God.

Their hope wasn't put on this earth, but their hope is

in eternity. In the meantime they'll believe in

miracles and thank God for who He is and what He

has done. Before we left, we presented some families

with rice, tea, and a small amount of cash that would

buy them enough food for several weeks. We also

distributed sports equipment, soccer balls, and jump

ropes to the children. They immediately invited our

group to play with them, and we had a ball, laughing

and enjoying each other even though we were

surrounded by squalor. I will never forget those

children and their smiles. It just proved to me again

that happiness can come to us under any

circumstance if we put our total trust in God.

How can such impoverished children laugh? How

can prisoners sing with joy? They rise above by

accepting that certain events are beyond their

control and beyond their understanding too, and

then focusing instead on what they can understand

and control. My parents did just that. They moved

forward by deciding to trust in God's Word that "all

things work for the good of those who love God, who

are called according to His purpose."

A FAMILY OF FAITH

My mum and dad were both born into strong

Christian families in the part of the former

Yugoslavia now known as Serbia. Their families

immigrated separately to Australia while they were

young because of Communist repression. Their

parents were Apostolic Christians, and their faith

included conscientious objection to bearing arms.

The Communists discriminated against them and

persecuted them for their beliefs. They had to hold

services in secret. They suffered financially because

they refused to join the Communist Party, which

controlled every aspect of life. When my father was

young, he often went hungry for that reason.

Both sets of my grandparents joined many thousands

of Serbian Christians who immigrated to Australia

and also to the United States and Canada after World

War II. My parents' families moved to Australia,

where they and their children could be free to

practice their Christian beliefs. Other members of

their families moved to the United States and Canada

around the same time, so I have many relatives in

those countries too.

My parents met in a Melbourne church. My mum,

Dushka, was in her second year of nursing school at

the Royal Children's Hospital in Victoria. My dad,

Boris, worked in office administration and cost

accounting. He later became a lay pastor in addition

to his job. When I was about seven years old, my

parents began considering a move to the United

States because they felt there might be better access

to new prosthetics and medical care to help us deal

with my disabilities.

My uncle Batta Vujicic had a construction and

property management business in Agoura Hills just

35 miles outside Los Angeles. Batta always told my

father he'd give him a job if he could obtain a work

visa. There was a large community of Serbian

Christians with several churches around Los Angeles,

which also appealed to my parents. My father

learned that obtaining a work visa was a long,

drawn-out process. He decided to apply, but in the

meantime my family moved a thousand miles north

to Brisbane, Queensland, where the climate was

better for me, as I had allergies along with my other

challenges.

I was approaching ten years old and in my fourth

year of elementary school when everything finally

fell into place for a move to the United States. My

parents felt that my younger siblings—my brother

Aaron and sister Michelle—and I were at a good age

for assimilating into the United States school system.

We waited in Queensland for over eighteen months

for Dad's three-year work visa to be arranged, finally

moving in 1994.

Unfortunately, the move to California did not work

out for several reasons. When we left Australia, I had

already started sixth grade. My new school in Agoura

Hills was very crowded. They could only get me into

advanced classes, which was difficult enough, but in

addition the curriculums were very different. I'd

always been a good student, but I struggled to adapt

to the change. Due to different school calendars, I

was literally behind before I even started my classes

in California. I had a difficult time catching up. The

junior high I attended also required students to

change classrooms for each subject, which was

unlike Australia and added to the challenges of my

adjustment.

We'd moved in with my uncle Batta, his wife Rita,

and their six children, which made for a pretty

crowded house even though they had a large home

in Agoura Hills. We had planned to move into our

own home as soon as possible, but home prices were

much higher than in Australia. My father worked for

Batta's real estate management company. My mother

did not continue her nursing career because her first

priority was to get us settled into our new schools

and environment, and so she had not applied to

become licensed to practice nursing in California.

After three months of living with Uncle Batta's

family, my parents concluded that the move to the

United States just wasn't working out. I was

struggling in school, and my parents had difficulty

arranging for my health insurance and overall

handling the high cost of living in California. There

were also concerns that we might never be able to

secure permanent residency in the United States. A

lawyer advised my family that my health challenges

might make it more difficult to win approval because

of possible doubts about my family's ability to keep

up with medical costs and other expenses related to

my disabilities.

With so many factors weighing on them, my parents

decided to move hack to Brisbane after only four

months in the United States. They actually found a

house in the same cul-de-sac where we'd lived before

the move, so all of us kids could return to our same

schools and friends. My dad went back to teaching

computing and management in the College of

Technical and Further Education. My mum devoted

her life to my brother and sister and, mostly, me.

A CHALLENGING CHILD

In recent years my parents have been candid in

describing their fears and nightmares immediately

following my birth. As I was growing up, of course,

they did not let on that I was not exactly the child of

their dreams. In the months following my arrival, my

mum feared she could not look after me. My dad

could not see a happy future for me and worried

about the kind of life I would have. If I was helpless

and unable to experience life, he felt I would be

better off with God. They considered their options,

including the possibility of giving me up for

adoption. Both sets of my grandparents offered to

take me and care for me. My parents declined the

offers. They decided it was their responsibility to

raise me as best they could.

They grieved, and then they set about raising their

physically challenged son to be as "normal" as he

could possibly be. My parents are people of strong

faith, and they kept thinking that God must have had

some reason for giving them such a son.

Some injuries heal more quickly if you keep moving.

The same is true of setbacks in life. Perhaps you lose

your job. A relationship might not work out. Maybe

the bills are piling up. Don't put your life on hold so

that you can dwell on the unfairness of past hurts.

Look instead for ways to move forward. Maybe there

is a better job awaiting you that will be more

fulfilling and rewarding. Your relationship may have

needed a shake-up, or maybe there is someone

better for you. Perhaps your financial challenges will

inspire you to find new creative ways to save and

build wealth.

You can't always control what happens to you. There

are some occurrences in life that are not your fault

or within your power to stop. The choice you have is

either to give up or to keep on striving for a better

life. My advice is to know that everything happens

for a reason and in the end good will come of it.

As a child, I just assumed I was a perfectly adorable

baby, naturally charming and as lovable as any on

earth. My blissful ignorance was a blessing at that

age. I didn't know that I was different or that many

challenges awaited me. You see, I don't think we are

ever given more than we can handle. I promise you

that for every disability you have, you are blessed

with more than enough abilities tot overcome your

challenges.

God equipped me with an amazing amount of

determination and other gifts too. I soon proved that

even without limbs I was athletic and well

coordinated. I was all trunk but all baby boy too; a

rolling, diving daredevil. I learned to haul myself into

an upright position by bracing my forehead against a

wall and scooting up it. My mum and dad worked

with me for a long time trying to help me master a

more comfortable method, but I always insisted on

finding my own way.

My mum tried to help by putting cushions on the

floor so I could use them to brace myself and get up,

but for some reason I decided it was better just to

bash my brow against the wall and inch my way up.

Doing tasks my way, even if it was the hard way

became my trademark!

Using my head was my only option in those early

days,- a fact that developed my massive intellect

(kidding!) while also giving me the neck strength of a

Brahma bull and a forehead hard as a bullet. My

parents worried about me constantly, of course.

Parenthood is a shocking experience even with full-

bodied babies. New mothers and fathers often joke

that they wish then first child came with an

operating manual. There was no chapter even in Dr.

Spock for babies like me. Yet I stubbornly grew

healthier and bolder. I closed in on the "terrible

twos" stage, packing more potential parental terrors

than a set of octuplets.

How will he ever feed himself! How will he go to

school? Who would take care of him if something

happened to us! How will he ever live independently!

Our human powers of reasoning can be a blessing

and a curse. Like my parents, you have probably

fretted and worried about the future. Often, though,

that which you dread turns out to be far less a

problem than you imagined. There is nothing wrong

with looking ahead and planning for the future, but

know that your worst fears could just as easily prove

to be your best surprise. Very often life works out for

the good.

One of the best surprises of my childhood was the

control I had over my little left foot. Instinctively I

used it to roll myself around, to kick, shove, and

brace myself. My parents and doctors felt that the

handy little foot might be of greater use. There were

two toes, but they were fused together when I was

born. My parents and doctors decided that an

operation to free the toes might allow me to use them

more like fingers to grip a pen, turn a page, or

perform other functions.

We then lived in Melbourne, Australia, which offered

some of the best medical care in the country. I did

present challenges beyond the training of most

health care professionals. At the time when doctors

were preparing me for foot surgery, my mum kept

emphasizing to them that I ran hot most of the time

and that they would have to be especially attentive to

the possibility of my body overheating. She knew

about another child without limbs who overheated

during an operation and was left with brain damage

after suffering a brain seizure.

My self-roasting tendencies prompted an oft repeated

family saying: "When Nicky's cold, the clucks must

he freezing." Still, it is no joke that if I exercise too

much, get stressed out, or stay too long under hot

lights, my body temperature will rise dangerously.

Avoiding a meltdown is one of the things I have to

always be on guard against.

"Please monitor his temperature carefully," my mum

told the surgical team. Even though the doctors knew

my mother was a nurse, they still didn't take her

advice seriously. They managed a successful surgery

separating my toes, but what my mum had warned

them about came to pass. I emerged from the

operating mom soaked because they hadn't taken

any precautions for keeping my body from over-

heating, and when they realized that my tem-

perature was getting out of control, they tried to cool

me with wet sheets. They also put buckets of ice on

me to avoid a seizure.

My mum was furious. No doubt the doctors felt the

wrath of Dushka!

Even still, once I chilled out (quite literally), my

quality of life received a big boost from my newly

freed toes. They didn't work exactly as the doctors

had hoped, but I adapted. It's amazing what a little

foot and a couple of toes can do for a bloke with no

arms and no legs. That operation and new

technologies liberated me by giving me the power to

operate custom-built electronic wheelchairs, a

computer, and a cell phone too.

I can't know exactly what your burden is, nor do I

pretend that I've ever been through a similar crisis,

but look at what my parents went through when I

was born. Imagine how they felt. Consider how bleak

the future must have looked to them.

You may not be able to see a bright light at the end of

your own dark tunnel right now, but know that my

parents could not envision what a wonderful life I

would have one day. They had no idea that their son

would he not only self sufficient and fully engaged in

a career but happy, and full of joyful purpose!

Most of my parents' worst fears never materialized.

Raising me was certainly not easy, but I think they'll

tell you that for all the challenges, we had plenty of

laughter and joy. All things considered, I had an

amazingly normal childhood in which I enjoyed

tormenting my siblings, Aaron and Michelle, just like

all big brothers!

Life may be kicking you around right now. You may

wonder if your fortunes will improve. I'm telling you

that you can't even imagine the good that awaits you

if you refuse to give up. Stay focused on your dream.

Do whatever it takes to stay in the chase. You have

the power to change your circumstances. Go after

whatever it is you desire.

My life is an adventure still being written—and so is

yours. Start writing the first chapter now! Fill it with

adventure and love and happiness. Live the story as

you write it!

SEARCHING FOR MEANING

I'll concede that for a long time I did not believe that

I had any power over how my own story would turn

out. I struggled to understand what difference I

could make in the world or what path I should take. I

was convinced while growing up that there was

nothing good about my abbreviated body. Sure, I

never had to get up from the dinner table because I

hadn't washed my hands, and yes, I'd never known

the pain of a stubbed toe, but these few benefits

didn't seem like much consolation.

My brother and sister and my crazy cousins never let

me feel sorry for myself. They never coddled me.

They accept me for who I am, yet they also tough-

ened me up with their teasing and pranks so that I

could find humor instead of bitterness in my

circumstances.

"Look at that kid in the wheelchair! He's an alien,"

my cousins would scream across the shopping mall,

pointing at me. We all laughed hysterically at the

reactions from strangers who had no idea that the

kids picking on the disabled boy were really his

strongest allies.

The older I become, the more I realize what a

powerful gift it is to be loved like that. Even if at

times you feel alone, you should know that you are

loved too and recognize that God created you out of

love. Therefore you are never alone. His love for you

is unconditional. He doesn't love you if. . . He loves

you always. Remind yourself of that when feelings of

loneliness and despair come over you. Remember,

those are just feelings. They are not real, but God's

love is so real that He created you to prove it.

It is important to hold His love in your heart because

there will be times when you feel vulnerable. My big

family couldn't always be there to protect me. Once I

went off to school, there was no hiding that I was so

very different from everyone else. My dad assured

me that God didn't make mistakes, but at times I

couldn't shake the feeling that I was the exception to

that rule.

"Why couldn't You give me just one arm?" I'd ask

God. "Think what I could do with one arm!"

I'm sure you've had similar moments when you've

prayed or simply wished for a dramatic change in

your life. There is no reason to panic if your miracle

doesn't arrive, or if your wish doesn't come true right

this minute. Remember, God helps those who help

themselves. It's still up to you to keep striving to

serve the highest purpose for your talents and your

dreams in the world around you.

For the longest time I thought that if my body were

more "normal," my life would be a breeze. What I

didn't realize was that I didn't have to be normal—I

just had to be me, my father's child, carrying out

God's plan. At first I was not willing to confront that

what was really wrong with me wasn't my body, it

was the limits I put on myself and my limited vision

of the possibilities for my life. If you aren't where

you want to be or you haven't achieved all you hope

to achieve, the reason most likely resides not around

you but within you. Take responsibility and then

take action. First, though, you must believe in

yourself and your value. You can't wait for others to

discover your hiding place. You can't wait for that

miracle or "just the right opportunity." You should

consider yourself the stick and the world your pot of

stew. Stir it up.

As a boy, I spent many nights praying for limbs. I'd

go to sleep crying and dream that I'd wake up to find

they had miraculously appeared. It never happened,

of course. Because I did not accept myself, I went off

to school the next day and as a result found that

acceptance from others was hard to come by.

Like most kids, I was more vulnerable in my pre-teen

years, that time when everyone is trying to figure out

where they fit in, who they are, and what the future

holds. Often those who hurt me didn't set out to be

cruel; they were just being typically blunt kids. "Why

don't you have arms and legs?" they'd ask.

My desire to fit in was the same as for any of my

classmates. On my good days I won them over with

my wit, my willingness to poke fun at myself, and by

throwing my body around on the playground. On my

worst days I hid behind the shrubbery or in empty

classrooms to avoid being hurt or mocked. Part of the

problem was that I'd spent more time with adults

and older cousins than with kids my own age. I had a

more mature outlook, and my more serious thoughts

sometimes took me into dark places.

I'll never get a girl to love me. I don't even have arms

to hold a girlfriend. If I have children, I'll never be

able to hold them either. What sort of job could I

ever have! Who would hire me! For most jobs, they'd

have to hire a second person just to help me do what

I was supposed to do. Who would ever hire one for

the price of two!

My challenges were mostly physical, but clearly they

affected me emotionally as well. I went through a

very scary period of depression at a young age. Then,

to my everlasting shock and gratitude, as I moved

into my teen years, I gradually won acceptance, first

from myself and then from others.

Everyone goes through times when they feel

excluded, alienated, or unloved. We all have our

insecurities. Most kids fear they'll be mocked

because their noses are too big or their hair is too

curly. Adults fear that they won't be able to pay the

bills or that they will fail to live up to expectations.

You will face moments of doubt and fear. We all do.

Feeling down is natural; it is part of being perfectly

human. Such feelings pose a danger only if you allow

negative thoughts to stick around instead of just

letting them wash over you.

When you trust that you have blessings—talents,

knowledge, love—to share with others, you will

begin the journey to self acceptance even if your gifts

are not yet apparent. Once you begin that walk,

others will find you and walk with you.

SPEAKING UP

I found the path to my purpose while trying to reach

out to my classmates. If you've ever had to be the

new kid in the corner, eating lunch all by yourself,

I'm sure you understand that being the new kid in

the corner in a wheelchair could be all the more

difficult. Our moves from Melbourne to Brisbane, to

the United States, and back to Brisbane forced me to

make adjustments that added to my challenges.

My new classmates often assumed I was mentally as

well as physically disabled. They usually kept their

distance unless I summoned the courage to strike up

conversations in the lunchroom or in the hallway.

The more I did this, the more they accepted that I

really wasn't an alien dropped into their midst.

Sometimes, you see, God expects you to help out with

the heavy lifting. You can wish. You can dream. You

can hope. But you must also act upon those wishes,

those dreams, and those hopes. You have to stretch

beyond where you are to reach where you want to

he. I wanted people at my school to know that I was

just like them on the inside, but I had to go outside

my comfort zone to do that. Reaching out to them in

this way brought out awesome rewards.

In time these discussions with classmates about

coping in a world made for arms and legs led to

invitations for me to speak to student groups, church

youth groups, and other teen organizations. There's a

wonderful truth that's so central to living. I find it

extraordinary that schools do not teach it. The

essential truth is this: Each of us has some gift—a

talent, a skill, a craft, a knack—that gives us pleasure

and engages us, and the path to our happiness often

lies within that gift.

If you are still searching, still trying to figure out

where you fit in and what fulfills you, I suggest you

do a self-assessment. Sit down with a pen and paper

or at a computer and make a list of your favorite

activities. What do you find yourself drawn to do?

What can you spend hours doing, losing track of time

and place, and still want to do it again and again?

Now, what is it that other people see in you? Do they

compliment your talent for organization or your

analytical skills? If you're not really sure what others

see in you, ask your family and friends what they

think you are best at.

These are the clues to finding your life's path, a path

that lies secreted within you. We all arrive on this

earth naked and full of promise. We come packed

with presents waiting to be opened. When you find

something that so fully engages you that you would

do it for free all day every day, then you are on

course. When you find someone who is willing to pay

you for it, then you have a career.

At first my informal little talks to other young people

were a way to reach out to them, to show that I was

just like them. I was focused inward, grateful for a

chance to share my world and to make connections. I

knew what speaking did for me, hut it took a while to

realize that what I had to say might have an impact

on others.

FINDING A PATH

One day I gave a talk to a group of about three

hundred teenage students, probably the biggest

group I'd ever addressed. I was sharing my feelings

and my faith when something wonderful happened.

Now and then students or teachers would shed tears

when I told them about challenges I'd faced, but

during this particular talk a girl in the audience

completely broke down sobbing. I wasn't sure what

had happened—perhaps I'd triggered some terrible

memory for her. I was amazed when she then

summoned the courage to raise her hand to speak,

despite her sadness and tears. Bravely, she asked if

she could come forward and give me a hug. Wow! I

was floored.

I invited her up, and she wiped away her tears as she

walked to the front of the room. She then gave me

this huge hug, one of the best of my life. By then

nearly everyone in the room was teary-eyed,

including me. But I lost it entirely when she

whispered in my ear:

"Nobody has ever told me that I'm beautiful the way

that I am. No one has ever said that they love me,"

she said. "You've changed my life, and you are a

beautiful person too."

Up to that point, I was still constantly questioning my

own worth. I'd thought of myself as someone who

simply gave little talks as a way of reaching out to

other teens. First of all she called me "beautiful"

(which didn't hurt), but more than anything she gave

me that first real inkling that my speaking could help

others. This girl changed my perspective. Maybe I

really do have something to contribute, I thought.

Experiences like that helped me realize that being

"different" just might help me contribute something

special to the world. I found that people were willing

to listen to me speak because they had only to look at

me to know I'd faced and overcome my challenges. I

did not lack credibility. Instinctively, people felt I

might have something to say that could help them

with their own problems.

God has used me to reach people in countless

schools, churches, prisons, orphanages, hospitals,

stadiums, and meeting halls. Even better, I've hugged

thousands of people in face-to-face encounters that

allow me to tell them how very precious they are. It's

also my pleasure to assure them that He does have a

plan for their lives. God took my unusual body and

invested me with the ability to uplift hearts and

encourage spirits, just as He says in the Bible: "For I

know the plans I have for you . . . plans to prosper

you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and

a future."

MAKING IT HAPPEN

Life can seem cruel, no doubt about it. Sometimes

the bad breaks pile up and you just can't see a way

out. You may not like the sound of that, but maybe

you still aren't convinced that it can happen for you

right now.

The fact is that as mere mortals, you and I have

limited vision. We can't possibly see what lies ahead.

That's both the bad news and the good news. My

encouragement to you is that what lies ahead may be

far better than anything you ever thought possible.

But it's up to you to get over it, get up, and show up!

Whether your life is good and you want to make it

better, or whether it's so bad you just want to stay in

bed, the fact is that what happens from this very

moment is up to you and your Maker. True, you can't

control everything. Too often bad stuff happens to

people no matter how good they are. It may not be

fair that you weren't born into a life of ease, but if

that is your reality, you have to work with it.

You may stumble. Others may doubt you. When I

focused on public speaking as a career path, even my

parents questioned my decision.

"Don't you think that an accounting career, with your

own practice, would be more appropriate for your

circumstances and provide a better future?" my dad

asked.

Yes, from most perspectives a career in accounting

probably made more sense for me because I do have

a talent for number-crunching. But from an early age

I've had this absolute passion for sharing my faith

and my hope of a better life. When you find your

true purpose, passion follows. You absolutely live to

pursue it.

If you are still searching for your path in life, know

that it's okay to feel a little frustration. This is a

marathon, not a sprint. Your yearning for more

meaning is a sign that you are growing, moving

beyond limitations, and developing your talents. It's

healthy to look at where you are from time to time

and to consider whether your actions and priorities

are serving your highest purpose.

LIGHTING THE WAY

At fifteen years old I made my life right with God,

asking Him for forgiveness and for direction. I asked

Him to light my path of purpose. After being baptized

four years later, I began speaking about my faith to

others and knew I had found my calling. My career

as a speaker and evangelist grew into a global

ministry, and just a few years ago, quite

unexpectedly, something happened that lifted my

heart even higher and confirmed for me that I'd

chosen the right path.

Nothing felt out of the ordinary on that Sunday

morning when I rolled into a California church for a

speaking engagement. Unlike most of my appear-

ances, which happened in far-off corners of the

world, this one was close to home. The Knott Avenue

Christian Church in Anaheim is just down the road

from my house.

As I entered in my wheelchair, the choir was

beginning its opening song, and the service was

starting. I took a seat on a bench at the front as the

congregation filled the large church, and I began to

mentally prepare for my speech. This would be my

first time talking to the people at Knott Avenue, and I

didn't expect they knew much about me, so I was

surprised to hear someone calling, "Nick! Nick!" over the singing voices.

I didn't recognize the voice and was not even sure

that I was the "Nick" being summoned. But when I

turned around, I saw an older gentleman waving

directly at me.

"Nick! Over here!" he shouted again.

Now that he had my attention, he pointed to a

younger man standing next to him in the packed

church who appeared to be holding a child. There

were so many people crowded together that at first I

could see only a flash of the toddler's bright eyes, a

thatch of shiny brown hair, and a big gap-toothed

baby smile.

Then the man held the little boy higher above the

crowd so I could see him more clearly. The full view

sent a wave of feeling through me so intense that (if

I'd had them) it would have made my knees buckle.

The bright-eyed boy was just like me. No arms. No

legs. He even had a little left foot like mine. Though

he was only nineteen months old, he was exactly like

me. I understood why the two men were so eager for

me to see him. As I later learned, this boy's name is

Daniel Martinez, the son of Chris and Patty.

I was supposed to be preparing for my speech, but

seeing Daniel—seeing myself in that child—triggered

such a swirl of feelings that I couldn't think straight. I

first felt compassion for him and his family. But then

sharp memories and anguished emotions bom-

barded me as I was vividly brought back to how I

had felt at about that age, and I realized that he must

have been going through the same things.

I know how he feels, I thought. I've already been

through what he will experience. Looking at Daniel, I

felt this incredible connection and a surge of

empathy for him. Old feelings of insecurity,

frustration, and loneliness flooded back, pulling the

air out of my lungs. I felt like I was baking under the

stage lights. I felt woozy. It wasn't a panic attack

exactly; the vision of this boy in front of me touched

the boy inside me.

Then I had a revelation that brought a sense of calm.

When I was growing up, I had no one who shared my

situation who could help guide me, but now Daniel

has someone. I can help him. My parents can help

his parents. He doesn't have to go through what I

went through. Perhaps I can spare him some of the

pain that I had to endure. Here I could clearly see

that as difficult as it might be to live without limbs,

my life still had value to be shared. There was

nothing I lacked that would prevent me from making

a difference in the world. My joy would be to

encourage and inspire others. Even if I didn't change

this planet as much as I would like, I'd still know

with certainty that my life was not wasted. I was and

am determined to make a contribution. You should

believe in your power to do the same.

Life without meaning has no hope. Life without hope

has no faith. If you find a way to contribute, you will

find your meaning, and hope and faith will naturally

follow and accompany you into your future.

My visit to the Knott Avenue church was intended to

inspire and encourage others. Though seeing a boy

so much like me floating over the crowd initially

threw me off, he was a powerful confirmation of the

difference I could make in the lives of many people,

especially those facing major challenges, such as

Daniel and his parents.

This encounter was so compelling that I had to share

what I was seeing and feeling with the congregation,

so I invited Daniel's parents to bring him up to the

podium.

"There are no coincidences in life," I said. "Every breath, every step is ordained by God. It was no

coincidence that another boy with no arms and no

legs is in this room."

As I said that, Daniel flashed a radiant smile,

captivating everyone in the church. The congregation

fell silent as his father held him upright and

alongside me. The sight of us together, a young man

and an infant with shared challenges, beaming at

each other, set off weeping and sniffling in the pews

around us.

I don't cry easily, but as everyone around me

unleashed a flood of tears, I couldn't help but get

swept up too. At home that night, I remember saying

not a single word. I kept thinking of this child and

how he must be feeling just what I'd felt at his age. I

thought also of how he would feel as his awareness

grew, as he encountered the cruelties and rejection

I'd experienced. I was sad for him and the suffering

he likely would endure, but then I was heartened

because I knew my parents and I could ease his

burden and even light hope in his heart. I couldn't

wait to tell my parents because I knew they would be

eager to meet this boy and to give him and his

parents hope. My mum and dad had been through so

much and they'd had no one to guide them. I knew

they would be grateful for the opportunity to help

this family.

MOMENT OF MEANING

It had been a surreal, awestruck moment for me. I

had been speechless (a rarity), and when Daniel

looked up at me, my heart had melted. I still thought

of myself as a kid, and having never seen anybody

else like me, I badly wanted to know I wasn't alone,

that I wasn't different from every single person on

the planet. I felt that no one really understood what I

was going through or could comprehend my pain or

my loneliness.

Reflecting on my childhood, I was struck by all the

pain I'd gone through just by being aware of how

different I was. When others mocked or shunned me,

it heightened the hurt all the more. But compared to

the infinite mercy and glory and power of God I was

now feeling because of this moment with Daniel, my

pain was suddenly insignificant.

I would not wish my disability on anyone, so I was

sad for Daniel. Yet I knew God had brought this child

to me so that I could ease his burden. It was as if God

were winking at me and saying, Got you! See, I did

have a plan for you!

TAKE HEART

Of course I don't have all the answers. I don't know

the specific pain or challenges you face. I came into

this world shortchanged physically, but I've never

known the pain of abuse or neglect. I've never had to

deal with a broken family. I've never lost a parent or

a brother or a sister. There are many bad

experiences I've been spared. I'm certain that I've

had it easier in thousands of ways than many people.

In that life-changing moment when I looked out and

saw Daniel held above the crowd in that church, I

realized that I'd become the miracle that I'd prayed

for. God had not given me such a miracle. But he had

made me Daniel's instead.

I was twenty-four years old when I met Daniel. When

his mother, Patty, hugged me later that day, she said

it was like stepping into the future and hugging her

own grown-up son.

"You have no idea. I've been praying that God would

send me a sign to let me know that He has not

forgotten my son or me," she said. "You are a miracle.

You are our miracle."

One of the great aspects of our meeting-was that on

that Sunday my parents were on their way from

Australia for their first visit since I'd moved to the

United States a year before. A couple days later my

mum and dad met with Daniel and his parents. You

can believe that they had a lot to talk about.

Chris and Patty may have considered me a blessing

for Daniel, but my parents were an even bigger

blessing to them. Who better to prepare them and

guide them through the parenting of a child without

arms and legs? We could give them not just hope but

solid evidence that Daniel could live a fairly normal

life, and that he too would discover the blessings he

was meant to share. We have been blessed to share

our experiences with them, to encourage them and

to offer proof that there are no limits to a life without

limbs.

At the same time Daniel is a dynamo who is a

blessing to me, giving me far more than I could ever

give him because of his energy and joy, and that is

another, totally unexpected reward.

A LIFE TO SHARE

The late Helen Keller lost her sight and hearing

before the age of two due to illness, but she went on

to become a world-renowned author, speaker, and

social activist. This great woman said true happiness

comes through "fidelity to a worthy purpose."

What does that mean? For me, it means being

faithful to your gifts, growing them, sharing them,

and taking joy in them. It means moving beyond the

pursuit of self-satisfaction to the more mature search

for meaning and fulfillment.

The greatest rewards come when you give of

yourself. It's about bettering the lives of others, being

part of something bigger than yourself, and making a

positive difference. You don't have to be Mother

Teresa to do that. You can even be a "disabled" guy

and make an impact. Just ask the young lady who

sent this e-mail to our Life Without Limbs Web site.

Dear Nick,

Wow, I don't even know where to begin. I guess I will

start off by introducing myself. I am 16 years old. I

am writing to you because I watched your DVD "No

Arms, No Legs,No Worries." and it made the biggest

impact on my life and my recovery. I say recovery

because I am recovering from an eating disorder,

anorexia. I have been in and out of inpatient

treatment centers for the past year now, and it has

been the worst chapter of my life so far. I was

recently discharged from a residential treatment

center located in California.

While I was there, I saw your DVD. I have never felt

so inspired and motivated in my entire life. You truly

amaze me. Everything about you is so wonderful and

so positive. Every single word that came out of your

mouth made some sort of an impact on me. I have

never been so incredibly grateful in my life. I mean

there have been times in my life when I thought I

had reached the end, but now I see that everyone

does have a purpose in life, and that they should

respect themselves for who they are. Wow, seriously

—I can't even thank you enough for all the

encouragement your DVD gave me. I wish that one

day I can meet you-, it's something I dream to do

before I die. You have the best personality a human

being could have—you made me laugh so much

(which is very hard to do when in rehab). Because of

you I am now a lot stronger and more aware of who I

am and I no longer obsess about what other people

think of me, or put myself down all the time. You

taught me how to turn my negatives into positives.

Thank you for saving my life and turning it around. I

can't thank you enough—you are my hero!

USE ME UP

I am grateful to receive many letters like that, and it

seems especially odd given how despondent I was as

a child about ever enjoying my own life, much less

helping others with theirs. Your search for meaning

may still be under way. But I don't think you can

really feel fulfilled without serving others. Each of us

hopes to put our talents and knowledge to use for

benefits beyond paying the bills.

In today's world, even though we may be fully

conscious of the spiritual emptiness of material

attainment, we still need reminders that fulfillment

has nothing to do with having possessions. People

certainly try the strangest options for attaining

fulfillment. They may drink a six-pack of beer. They

may drug themselves into oblivion. They may alter

their bodies to achieve some arbitrary standard of

beauty. They may work their whole lives to reach the

pinnacle of success, only to have it mercilessly

yanked from them in a second. But most sensible

people know that there are no easy routes to long-

term happiness. If you place your bets on temporary

pleasures, you will find only temporary satisfaction.

With cheap thrills, you get what you pay for—here

today, gone tomorrow.

Life isn't about having, it's about being. You could

surround yourself with all that money can buy, and

you'd still be as miserable as a human can be. I know

people with perfect bodies who don't have half the

happiness I've found. On my journeys I've seen more

joy in the slums of Mumbai and the orphanages of

Africa than in wealthy gated communities and on

sprawling estates worth millions.

Why is that?

You'll find contentment when your talents and

passion are completely engaged, in full force.

Recognize instant self-gratification for what it is.

Resist the temptation to grab for material objects like

the perfect house, the coolest clothes, or the hottest

car. The if I just had X, I would be happy syndrome is

a mass delusion. When you look for happiness in

mere objects, they are never enough.

Look around. Look within.

As a boy, I figured that if God would just give me

arms and legs, I would be happy for the rest of my

life. It hardly seemed selfish since limbs are standard

equipment. Still, as you know, I found that I can be

happy and fulfilled without the usual appendages.

Daniel helped confirm that for me. The experience of

reaching out to him and and his family reminded me

why I am on this earth.

Once my parents arrived in California, we met with

Daniel's family and I witnessed something so special.

My parents and I spent hours talking to his mother

and father, comparing experiences, discussing how

we've dealt with challenges that await him. From

those first days we formed a strong bond that

remains to this day.

About a year after our first meeting, we got together

again, and during our discussion Daniel's parents

noted that his doctors felt he wasn't ready to have his

own customized wheelchair like mine.

"Why not?" I asked. "I was about Daniel's age when I started driving my own wheelchair."

To prove my point, I hopped out of my chair and let

Daniel take my seat. His foot fit the joystick perfectly.

He loved it! He did a great job maneuvering the

chair. Because we were there, Daniel had the

opportunity to prove to his parents that he could

handle a customized wheelchair. This was one of the

many ways I knew I could be there for him and help

light his path based on my shared experiences. I

can't tell you what a thrill it is to serve as Daniel's

guide.

We provided Daniel with a rare gift that day, but he

presented me with an even better one in the

matchless fulfillment I felt at feeling his joy. Not a

luxury car. Not a McMansion. Nothing compares to

fulfilling your destiny and aligning with His plan.

This gift just keeps on giving. In a later visit with

Daniel and his family, my parents shared their early

concerns that I could easily drown in the bathtub

without arms and legs to keep me afloat. As a result

they were very careful when bathing me as an

infant, and as I grew older, my dad held me in the

water gently, showing me that I could float. Over

time I became more confident and adventurous and

learned I could float easily as long as I held a bit of

air in my lungs. I even figured out how to use my

little foot as a propeller to motor myself through the

water. Considering how frightened my parents had

understandably been about me in the water, imagine

their amazement as I became an avid swimmer,

leaping into any pool of water I could find.

After sharing that story with Daniel's family, we were

delighted to learn later that one of the first phrases

he said to his parents when he was old enough to

speak clearly was: "Swim like Nick!" Now Daniel too

is an avid swimmer. I can't express to you how

awesome that makes me feel. To see Daniel benefit

from my experiences gives deeper meaning to my

life. If my story never touched another person,

Daniel's determination to "swim like Nick" would be

enough to make my life and all the hardships I've

encountered worthwhile.

Recognizing your purpose means everything. I

assure you that you too have something to

contribute. You may not see it now, but you would

not be on this planet if that were not true. I know for

certain that God does not make mistakes, but he does

make miracles. I am one. You are too.

CHAPTER TWO

No Arms, No Legs, No Limits

Time and again in my life and in my travels, I have

witnessed the incredible power of the human spirit. I

know for certain that miracles happen, but only for

those who hang on to hope. What is hope? It is where

dreams begin. It is the voice of your purpose. It

speaks to you and reassures you that whatever

happens to you doesn't live within you. You may not

control what happens to you, but you can control

how you respond.

The late Reverend Martin Luther King, Jr., said,

"Everything that is done in the world is done by

hope." I know for certain that as long as you draw

breath, hope is available to you. You and I are only

human. We cannot see into the future. Instead, we

picture the possibilities for what might be. Only God

knows how our lives will unfold. Hope is His gift to

us, a window to look through. We cannot know the

future He has planned for us. Trust in Him, keep

hope in your heart, and even when faced with the

worst, do whatever you can to prepare yourself for

the best!

Sometimes, of course, our prayers are not answered.

Tragedies occur despite our prayers and our faith.

Even the best people with the purest of hearts

sometimes suffer horrible losses and grief. The

recent deadly earthquakes in Haiti, Chile, Mexico,

and China are just the most recent examples that

tremendous suffering and tragedy occur every day.

Thousands died in those natural catastrophes. Their

hopes and dreams died with them. Many mothers

lost their children. Many children lost their mothers.

How do you sustain hope amid such suffering? One

thing that sustains me when I hear of these great

calamities is the fact that they always trigger

incredible caring from other human beings. Just

when you wonder why, amid such senseless

suffering, people would still have hope, hundreds of

selfless volunteers pour into those regions. Students,

doctors, engineers, and other rescuers and

rebuilders give of themselves and their talents to

help those who have survived.

Hope appears even in the worst of times to give us

proof of God's presence. My own suffering seems so

slight in comparison to the trials endured by so many

people I've met, but I've also grieved the loss of a

loved one. Our family lost my cousin Roy to cancer at

the age of twenty-seven, despite the fervent prayers

of all the devout Christians in our family, church, and

community. Losing someone so close to you is

heartbreaking and difficult to understand, which is

why having hope is so important to me. You see, my

hope extends beyond our worldly existence. The

ultimate hope is in heaven. My family takes no little

consolation in the hope that my cousin, who believed

in Jesus Christ, is in heaven with Him and suffering

no more.

Even in the worst situations that seem beyond our

capacities, God knows how much our hearts can

bear. I hold on to the belief that our life here is

temporary, as we are being prepared for eternity.

Whether our lives here are good or bad, the promise

of heaven awaits. I always have hope in the most

difficult times that God will give me the strength to

endure the challenges and the heartache and that

better days await, if not on this earth then for certain

in heaven.

One of the best ways I've found for holding on even

when our prayers are not answered is to reach out to

others. If your suffering is a burden, reach out to

ease that of someone else and bring hope to them.

Lift them up so that they will be comforted with the

knowledge that they are not alone in their suffering,

offer compassion when you need it. Be a friend when

you need friendship. Give hope when you most need

it.

I am young and I don't pretend to have all the

answers, but more and more I realize that in those

times when hopelessness seems to prevail, when our

prayers go unanswered, and when our worst fears

are realized, our salvation lies in our relationships

with those around us and, especially for me and

fellow Christians, in our relationship with God and

our trust in His love and wisdom.

A POWERFUL GIFT

My belief in the power of hope over despair was

reinforced on my first visit to China in 2008. I saw

the Great Wall and marveled at the grandeur of one

of the world's most incredible wonders. But the most

powerful moment of this trip for me came when I

saw the joyful glimmer in the eyes of a young

Chinese girl. She was performing with other children

who'd put together a show worthy of an Olympic

spectacle. This girl's jubilant expression caught my

attention, and I could not look away. While she

moved in precision with the other dancers, she

simultaneously balanced a spinning plate overhead.

She was concentrating so, so hard, yet despite

everything she had to think about, she still had this

look of intense happiness that moved me to tears.

You see, this girl and all the children in the show

were among more than four thousand young people

orphaned by a massive earthquake that had hit the

region just a few months earlier. My caregiver, our

travel coordinator, and I had come to this orphanage

with supplies for them, and I'd been asked to speak

to them to raise their spirits.

As we traveled to the orphanage, I was overwhelmed

by the damage and suffering that had been caused by

the earthquake. In the face of such devastation I

worried that I would not know what to tell these

orphans. The earth had opened up and swallowed

everything they'd loved and known. I had never

endured anything so terrible. What could I say to

them? We'd brought warm coats and other clothing

for them, but how could I give them hope?

When I arrived at the orphanage, I was mobbed. One

child after another embraced me. I didn't speak their

language, but it didn't matter. Their faces said it all.

Despite their circumstances, they were radiant. I

should not have worried about what words to say to

help them. I didn't have to inspire these children.

Instead, they inspired me with the soaring spirit of

their performance that day. They'd lost their parents,

their homes, and all their belongings, yet they were

expressing joy.

I told them I admired their courageous spirits and

urged them to keep looking forward, to dare to wish

for better lives, and to pursue their dreams with all

their power.

DARE TO DREAM

Have the courage to pursue your own dreams, and

never doubt your ability to meet whatever challenges

come your way. I've seen people's amazing capacity

to rise above their circumstances not only in Chinese

orphanages but in the slums of Mumbai and the

prisons of Romania. I recently spoke at a social

welfare center in South Korea, where some of the

residents were disabled and others were single

mothers. The power of their spirits amazed me. I

visited a prison in South Africa with concrete walls

and rusted bars. The worst criminals were not

allowed in our chapel service, but I could hear others

outside, throughout the prison, singing along to the

gospel music. It was as if the Holy Spirit had filled the

entire population with God's joy. They were captive

on the outside but free on the inside because of their

faith and their hope. Walking out of the prison gates

that day, I felt that those inmates seemed freer than

many of those outside the prison gates. You too can

allow hope to live in your heart.

Remember that sadness does serve a purpose. It is

perfectly natural to experience this emotion, but you

should never let it dominate your thoughts day and

night. You can control your response by turning to

more positive thoughts and actions that lift your

spirits.

Because I am a spiritual person, I look to my faith in

sorrowful times. But (perhaps surprisingly) it is my

training in accounting that offers a more pragmatic

approach. If you say you are without hope, that

means you think there is zero chance of anything

good happening in your life ever again.

Zero! That's pretty extreme, don't you think? The

power of believing in better days is so indisputable

that, to me, it seems far more probable that your

days will change for the better. Hope, along with

faith and love, is one of the pillars of spirituality.

Whatever your beliefs, you should never be without

it because everything good in life begins with it. If

you didn't have hope, would you ever plan to start a

family? Without hope, would you ever try to learn

something new? Hope is the springboard for nearly

every step we take, and my hope in writing this book

is that you will find a better life, one without limits.

A passage in the Bible says, "Those who hope in the

Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on

wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary,

they will walk and not be faint." The first time I

heard this passage, I realized that I didn't need arms

and legs. Don't ever forget that God never gives up on

you. Keep moving ahead because action creates

momentum, which in turn creates unanticipated

opportunities.

RIPPLES BECOME TIDES

People around the world were deeply saddened by

the devastating 2009 earthquake in Haiti. Yet for all

the tragedies that came with this massive disaster,

the horrific circumstances also brought out people's

best qualities, as in the survivors who refused to

surrender despite the overwhelming odds stacked

against them.

Marie's son Emmanuel was believed to be among the

dead buried under a building. The twenty-one-year-

old tailor had been with his mother in her apartment

when the earthquake hit. She escaped, but she could

not find him afterward, their building now just a

heap of rubble. Marie looked for her son at an

emergency camp set up for people who'd lost their

homes, but she could not find him among the other

survivors. She waited, hoping he still might make his

way there.

After several days, she went back through the chaos

and the destruction to search for her son. Heavy

machinery at work on the site made it difficult to

hear, but at one point Marie thought she heard

Emmanuel calling for her.

"At that moment," she told a reporter, "I knew it was possible to save him."

Marie let everyone know that her son had called to

her from under the rubble, but no one was able to

help her. But when international groups of rescue

workers arrived, she was able to find an experienced

team of engineers. She convinced them that her son

was still alive. Using their equipment and knowledge,

they cut through steel, concrete, and debris at exactly

the spot where she'd heard her son's voice.

They kept digging until they uncovered Emmanuel's

hand. He was reaching out to them. They continued

until they freed his shoulder and they were able to

pull him out. He had been buried for ten days. He

was severely dehydrated, covered in dust, and very

hungry, but he survived.

Sometimes all you will have is your belief that

anything is possible, that miracles can happen. As it

was for Marie, the world around you may be in

chaos, but you should not give in to despair. Instead,

believe that whatever you lack, God will provide!

That belief spurred Marie to action. Her actions

brought her within reach of her son's voice. It's not a

stretch to recognize that Marie's hope kept

Emmanuel alive, is it?

Life may not be going well for you now, but as long

as you are here, as long as you press forward,

anything is possible.

LIVE WITH HOPE IN YOUR HEART

You may be skeptical that anything is possible by

hanging on to hope. Or perhaps you have been

brought down so low that finding the strength to

crawl out of your despair seems impossible. There

was a time when I felt exactly that way. I was

absolutely convinced that my life would never be of

value and that I would only be a burden to those I

loved.

My parents were not prepared for a child without

limbs when I was born, and as a result they were

despondent. Who could blame them? Every mother

and father tries to envision the future for the

children they bring into the world. My parents had

difficulty projecting what sort of future I would have,

and as I grew older, so did I.

We all have at times seen our vision for our lives

crash into a cruel reality like a speeding car into a

brick wall. The particulars of your experience may

be unique, but situations of despair are all too

human. Teens often e-mail me stories of abuse and

neglect ripping apart their families. Adults share

stories in which drugs or alcohol or pornography

have left them crippled. Some days it seems like half

the people I talk to are dealing with cancer or some

other life-threatening medical condition.

How do you stay hopeful in such situations? You

trust in God, remember that you are here for a

reason, and dedicate yourself to fulfilling that

purpose. Whatever challenge you are facing, you are

blessed in ways that will help you find a way through

it. Just think of my parents and of the hopelessness

that they once faced.

BELIEVE IN THE BEST

Remaining positive and motivated when your burden

feels unbearable is undoubtedly difficult. When I

became old enough to understand the challenges

awaiting me, I was often haunted by despair and

couldn't begin to imagine that anything positive lay

in store for me. My memories of the darkest days of

my childhood are hazy. I was going through one of

those periods when being different was particularly

tough. I'm sure you have experienced those self-

doubts too. We all want to fit in, but at times we all

feel like outsiders.

My insecurities and doubts sprang mostly from the

physical challenges of having no arms or legs. I

cannot know what your concerns are, but hanging

on to hope helped me. Here is just one, early

experience of how it worked in my world:

I was just a toddler when my medical team recom-

mended that my parents put me in a play group with

other kids labeled "disabled." Their challenges

ranged from missing limbs to cystic fibrosis and

severe mental disorders. My parents had great love

and empathy for other special needs kids and their

families, but they don't think any child should be

limited to one group of playmates. They held on to

the conviction that my life would have no limits, and

they fought to keep that dream alive.

My mother, bless her, made an important decision at

an early stage of my life. "Nicholas, you need to play

with normal children because you are normal. You

just have a few bits and pieces missing, that's all," she

said, setting the tone for years to come. She didn't

want me to feel less than normal or restricted in any

way. She didn't want me to become introverted, shy,

or insecure just be cause I was different physically.

Little did I realize that my parents were even then

instilling in me the belief that I had every right to a

life free of labels and restrictions. You have that right

too. You should demand to be free of whatever

categorizations or limits others try to put on you.

Because of my missing bits and pieces, I am sensitive

to the fact that some people accept what others say

about them and even unconsciously restrict them-

selves. There certainly were times when I was tired

or cranky and tried to claim that studying or going to

the doctor was just too taxing, but my parents

refused to let me hide behind that.

Labels can provide a tempting hiding place. Some

people use them as excuses. Others rise above them.

Many, many people have been labeled "handi-

capped" or "disabled," only to soar above, enjoying dynamic lives and doing important things. I

encourage you to rise above any attempt to restrict

you from exploring and developing your gifts.

As a child of God, I know that He is always with me,

and I'm comforted to know that He understands how

much we can bear. When others share stories with

me of their own challenges and trials, I'm often

moved to tears. I remind those who are suffering or

grieving that God's arm is never too short. He can

reach anyone.

Draw strength from that. Dare to give it a go and to

soar as high as your imagination will take you. You

can expect challenges. Welcome them as "character-

building experiences." Learn from them and rise

above them. You may have an excellent dream. Just

be open-minded enough to accept that God may have

a different path for you than the one you envisioned.

There are many ways to reach your dream, so don't

be discouraged if you can't yet see the way on your

own.

BIONIC BOY

Hope is a catalyst. It can even move obstacles that

seem immovable. When you keep pushing, refusing

to give up, you create momentum. Hope creates

opportunities you never would have anticipated.

Helpful people are drawn to you. Doors open. Paths

are cleared.

Remember—action brings reaction. When you are

tempted to abandon your dreams, push yourself to

continue one more day, one more week, one more

month, and one more year. You will be amazed at

what happens when you refuse to quit.

When it came time for me to begin elementary

school, my parents again lobbied for me to have a

typical education. As a result of their unyielding

conviction, I became one of the first disabled

children in Australia to "mainstream" into the

regular school system. I did so well in the main-

stream school that the local newspaper ran a story

with the headline "Integration lets disabled boy

blossom." The story, accompanied by a big photo-

graph of my sister Michelle riding with me in my

wheelchair, set off a national media blitz that

brought visits from government officials, cards,

letters, gifts, and invitations from across the country.

The donations that flowed in after that newspaper

story helped fund my parents' efforts to equip me

with replacement limbs. They'd been trying to fit me

with artificial limbs since I was eighteen months old.

My first prosthesis was just one arm, which didn't

work well for me. The arm and hand were operated

mechanically with pulleys and levers, and it weighed

about twice as much as all the rest of me!

Just keeping my balance with this contraption on was

a challenge. I managed to operate it after a while. I'd

already become adept at grabbing objects with my

little foot, my chin, or my teeth, so the bionic arm

seemed only to make daily chores more difficult. My

parents were disappointed at first, but my

confidence grew because I tell good about doing SO

well on my own. I encouraged them and thanked

them and looked ahead.

There is power in perseverance. Our first experiment

with an artificial limb failed, but I continued to

believe my life would work out for the best. My

optimism and high spirits inspired our community

Lions Club, an international service organization, to

raise more than $2,00,000 for my medical bills and a

new wheelchair. Some of those funds also helped us

travel to Toronto, Canada, to try a more advanced set

of electronic arms developed by a children's clinic. In

the end, however, even the medical experts decided

that I managed to accomplish most tasks more

efficiently on my own without the aid of prosthetics.

I was excited that there were scientists and inventors

intent on providing me with limbs someday. But I

became all the more determined to do whatever I

could without waiting for someone else to find

something that would improve my life—I had to find

my own answers. Even today I welcome anyone who

helps me, whether it is opening a door for my

wheelchair or giving me a drink from a glass of

water. We need to take responsibility for our own

happiness and success. Your friends and family may

reach out to you in times of need. Be grateful for

that. Welcome their efforts, but keep pushing on

your own too. The more effort you put into it, the

more opportunities you create.

Sometimes you may feel like you are just about to

realize your goal only to fall short. That is no reason

to quit. Defeat happens only to those who refuse to

try again. I still believe that one day I will be able to

walk and lift and hold utensils like a regular person.

It will be a miracle when that happens, whether God

does it on His own or through his agents on earth.

The technology for robotic limbs is advancing

rapidly. Someday I may be able to wear prosthetic

arms and legs that work efficiently, but for now I'm

happy to be just as I am.

Often the very challenges that we think are holding

us back are, in fact, making us stronger. You should

be open to the possibility that today's handicap might

be tomorrow's advantage. I've come to see my lack of

limbs as an asset. Men, women, and children who

can't speak my language only have to see me to know

that I have overcome many challenges. My lessons,

they know, did not come easily.

WISDOM BORN OF EXPERIENCE

When I tell my audiences to hold on for better days, I

speak from experience. You can believe and trust in

what I say because I have been there. At one point in

my life I gave up hope.

This low point in my mostly happy childhood came

around the age of ten, when negative thoughts

overwhelmed me. No matter how optimistic and

determined and inventive I tried to be, there were

some tasks I just could not do. Some of them were

simple, everyday activities. It really bothered me, for

example, that I couldn't grab a soda out of the

refrigerator like every other kid. I couldn't feed

myself, and I hated to ask other people to do it. I felt

bad that they had to interrupt their meals to help me.

Other, bigger issues haunted me in this period of my

life: Would I ever find a wife to love me! How would I

provide for her and our children! How could I

protect them if they were threatened!

Most people have such thoughts. You probably have

wondered at some point whether you would ever

have a lasting relationship, a secure job, or a safe

place to live. It is normal and healthy to look ahead

because that is how we develop a vision for our lives.

The problem comes when negative thoughts block

your vision for the future and cloud your mind. I

pray and I remind myself of the word of God, who

helps me know that He is with me. He never leaves

me. He hasn't forgotten me. He will cause even the

worst things to come together for the good. I remind

myself to hold on to the promises of God, no matter

what I see on the out side. I know that God is good. If

He allows something bad to happen, I may not

understand, but I can hold on to His goodness.

MONITOR YOUR THOUGHTS

As my eleventh birthday approached, I entered the

tricky adolescent stage when our brains rewire and

strange chemicals flow through out bodies. Other

boys and girls my age were starting to pair up, which

added to my growing sense of alienation. Would any

girl ever want a boyfriend who couldn't hold her

hand or dance with her!

Without even being aware of it, I allowed those dark

thoughts and negative feelings to burden my spirit

with growing frequency. Often they came creeping

into my mind late at night when I couldn't sleep, or

when I was tired after a long day at school. You know

the feeling; you are so weary and out of sorts that the

whole world seems to be weighing on your

shoulders. We all experience down times, especially

when lack of sleep, illness, and other challenges

make us vulnerable.

No one is happy and perky one hundred percent of

the time. Your more somber moods are natural. They

serve a purpose too. According to recent psych-

ological studies, a darker mood can make you look at

your work more critically and analytically. That

outlook is helpful when you are involved in tasks like

balancing your checkbook, figuring out your taxes,

or editing a paper. As long as you are aware and in

control of your emotions, negative thoughts can

produce positive consequences. Only when you let

your emotions control your actions do you risk

spiraling down into depression and self-destructive

behaviors.

The key is to refuse to be overwhelmed or swept

away by negative emotions or feelings of depression.

Fortunately, you have that power to adjust your

attitude. When you detect negative thoughts running

through your mind, you can choose to hit the "off"

switch. Acknowledge them and understand their

source, but stay focused on the solutions instead of

on the problems. I remember from Bible class a

picture of the "whole armor of God" with the

breastplate of righteousness, the belt of truth, the

shield of faith, the sword of the Spirit, and the helmet

of salvation. I'd learned that those were all the

weapons that a Christian boy would ever need. I see

the word of God as a sword to fight negative

thoughts. The sword is the Bible. You also hold up the

shield of faith to defend yourself.

SPIRAL OF DESPAIR

At that critical age of adolescence when self-esteem

and self-image are so important, I let my worries and

fears overtake me. Everything that was wrong with

me overpowered all that was right.

I drew the short straw. How will I ever lead a normal

life with a job, a wife, and kids! I will always be a

burden to those around me.

I was never crippled until I lost hope. Believe me, the

loss of hope is far worse than the loss of limbs. If you

have ever experienced grief or depression, you know

just how bad despair can be. More than ever I felt

angry, hurt, and confused.

I prayed, asking God why He couldn't give me what

He'd given everyone else. Did I do something wrong!

Is that why you don't answer my prayers for arms

and legs! Why won't you help me! Why do you make

me suffer!

Neither God nor my doctors could explain to me why

I'd been born without arms or legs. The lack of an

explanation, even a scientific one, only made me feel

worse. I kept thinking that if there was some reason,

spiritual, medical, or otherwise, it might be easier to

handle. The pain might not be so great.

Many times I felt so low that I refused to go to school.

Self pity hadn't been a problem before. I had been

constantly striving to overcome my disability, to do

normal activities, to play as other kids played. Most

of the time I impressed my parents, my teachers, and

my classmates with my determination and self-

sufficiency. Yet I harbored hurt inside.

I'd been raised as a spiritual kid. I'd always gone to

church and believed in prayer and God's healing

power. I was so into Jesus that when we had dinner,

I'd smile, thinking of Him with us there at the table,

sitting in our empty chair while we ate. I prayed for

arms and legs. For a while I expected to wake up

some morning with arms and legs. I'd settle for just

getting one arm or leg at a time. When they did not

appear, I grew angry with God.

I thought I'd figured out God's purpose in creating

me, which was to be His partner in a miracle so the

world would recognize that He was real. I would

pray: "God, if you gave me arms and legs, I would go

around the world and share the miracle. I would go

on national television and tell everyone what had

happened, and the world would see the power of

God." I was telling Him that I got it and was willing to

follow through on my end. I remember praying, God,

I know You made me this way so You could give me

arms and legs and the miracle would prove to people

Your power and love.

As a child, I learned that God speaks to us in many

ways. I felt he might answer me by placing a feeling

in my heart. But there was only silence. I felt

nothing.

My parents would tell me, "Only God knows why you

were born this way." Then I'd ask God, and He

wouldn't tell me. These unfulfilled appeals and

unanswered questions hurt me deeply because I had

felt so close to God before.

I had other challenges to face. We were moving a

thousand miles north, up the coast to Queensland,

away from my huge family.

My protective cocoon of aunts and uncles and twenty

six cousins was being stripped away. The stress of

moving was wearing on my parents too. Despite their

assurances and their love and support, I couldn't

shake the feeling that I was a tremendous burden to

them.

It was as though I'd put on dark blinders that

prevented me from seeing any light in my life. I

couldn't see how I could ever be of use to anyone. I

felt I was just a mistake, a freak of nature, God's

forgotten child. My dad and mum did their best to

tell me otherwise. They read to me from the Bible.

They took me to church. My Sunday school teachers

taught that God loves us all. But I couldn't move

beyond my pain and anger.

There were brighter moments. In Sunday school I felt

joy when I joined my classmates singing, "'Jesus loves

the little children, all the children of the world, red

and yellow black and white, they are precious in His

sight, and Jesus loves the little children of the

world.'" Surrounded by people who supported and

loved me, I took that hymn to heart. It comforted me.

I wanted to believe that He cared for me deeply, but

then when I was tired or not feeling well, the dark

thoughts would creep in. I'd sit in my wheelchair on

the playground wondering: If God really loves me

like all the other children, then why didn't He give

me arms and legs! Why did He make me so different

from His other children!

Those thoughts began to intrude even during the day

and in normally happy circumstances. I'd been

struggling with feelings of despair and the sense that

my life was always going to be difficult. God didn't

seem to answer my prayers.

One day I sat on the high kitchen countertop,

watching my loving mum cook dinner, which I

usually found reassuring and relaxing. But suddenly

these negative thoughts overcame me. It struck me

that I didn't want to stick around and be a burden to

her. I had the urge to throw myself off the counter. I

looked down.

I tried to work out what angle I should use to make

sure I snapped my neck and killed myself.

But I talked myself out of doing it, mostly because if I

failed to kill myself, I'd have to explain why I was in

such despair. The fact that I came so close to hurting

myself that way frightened me. I should have told my

mother what I'd been thinking, but I was embarr-

assed. I didn't want to scare her.

I was young, and even though I was surrounded by

people who loved me, I didn't reach out and tell them

the depth of my feelings. I had resources but didn't

use them, and that was a mistake.

If you feel overcome by dark moods, you don't have

to handle it yourself. Those who love you won't feel

burdened. They want to help you. If you feel you

can't confide in them, reach out to professional

counselors at school, at work, in your community.

You are not alone. I was not alone. I see that now,

and I don't want you to ever come as close as I did to

making a fatal mistake.

But at that time I was becoming swept up in hope-

lessness. I decided that to end my pain, I had to end

my life.

A CLOSE CALL

One afternoon after school I asked my mother if she

could put me in the bath to soak for a while. I asked

her to shut the door when she left the bathroom.

Then I put my ears under water. In the silence, very

heavy thoughts ran through my mind. I had planned

in advance what I wanted to do.

If God will not take away my pain and if there is no

purpose for me in this life . . . if I'm here only to

experience rejection and loneliness . . . I'm a burden

to everyone and I have no future ... I should just end

it now.

As I mentioned when I described learning to swim,

I'd float on my back by filling my lungs with air. Now

I tried to gauge how much air to keep in my lungs

before I flipped over. Do I hold my breath before I

turn over? Do I take a full deep breath, or do I just do

half? Should I just empty my lungs and flip over?

I finally just turned and plunged my face under

water. Instinctively, I held my breath. Because my

lungs were strong, I stayed afloat for what seemed

like a long time.

When my air gave out, I flipped back over.

I can't do this.

But the dark thoughts persisted: I want to get out of

here. I just want to disappear.

I blew most of the air out of my lungs and flipped

over again. I knew I could hold my breath for at least

ten seconds, so I counted down . . . 10... 9... 8 ... 7....

6 ... 5 ... 4... 3 …

As I counted, an image flashed in my mind of my dad

and mum standing at my grave crying. I saw my

seven-year-old brother, Aaron, crying too. They were

all weeping, saying it was their fault, that they should

have done more for me.

I couldn't stand the thought of leaving them feeling

responsible for my death for the rest of their lives.

I'm being selfish.

I flipped back over and drew a deep breath. I

couldn't do it. I couldn't leave my family with such a

burden of loss and guilt.

But my anguish was unbearable. That night in our

shared bedroom, I told Aaron, "I'm planning to

commit suicide when I'm twenty-one."

I thought I could stick it out through high school and

university maybe, but I couldn't see myself beyond

that. I didn't feel like I could ever get a job or get

married like other men. What woman would want to

marry me? So the age of twenty-one seemed like the

end of the road for me. At my age, of course, it also

seemed like a long time away.

"I'm telling Dad you said that," my little brother

replied.

I told him not to tell anyone and closed my eyes to

sleep. The next thing I knew, I felt the weight of my

father as he sat down on my trundle bed.

"What is this about you wanting to kill yourself?" he asked. In a warm and reassuring tone, he talked to

me about all the good things awaiting me. As he

spoke, he combed my hair with his fingers. I always

loved it when he did that.

"We will always be here for you," he reassured me.

"Everything is going to be okay. I promise we will

always be here for you. You are going to be fine, son."

A loving touch and caring gaze is sometimes all it

takes to put a child's troubled heart and confused

mind at ease. My father's reassurance that things

would be okay was enough in that moment. He

convinced me with his comforting tone and touch

that he believed we would find a path for me. Every

son wants to trust his father, and that night he gave

me something to hold on to. To a child, there is no

assurance like a father's. My dad was generous with

such things and good at expressing his love and

support for all of us. I still didn't understand how

everything would work out for me, but because my

daddy told me they would, I believed they would.

I slept soundly after our talk. I still had occasional

bad days and nights. I trusted my parents and held

on to hope for a long time before I actually formed

any vision of how my life might unfold. There were

moments and even longer periods of doubt and fear,

but fortunately this was the lowest point for me.

Even now I have my down times like anyone else, but

I never again considered suicide. When I look back

on that moment and reflect on my life since, I can

only thank God for rescuing me from my despair.

HOLDING ON TO HOPE

Through my speaking engagements in twenty-four

countries, DVDs, and millions of YouTube.com views,

I've been blessed to reach so many with a message of

hope. Think about just how much joy I would have

missed experiencing it I had taken my life at the age

of ten. I would have missed the extraordinary

opportunity of sharing my story and what I'd learned

with more than 120,000 people in India, another

18,000 in a bullring in Colombia, and 9,000 during a

thunderstorm in Ukraine.

In time I came to understand that even though I

didn't take my life that dark day, God did.

He took my life and gave it more meaning and more

purpose and more joy than a ten-year-old boy could

ever have understood. Don't you make the mistake I

nearly made. If I had remained facedown in six

inches of water back in 1993, I might have ended my

temporary pain, but at what cost? That despairing

child could not possibly have foreseen the joyful man

swimming with great sea turtles off the Hawaiian

coast, surfing in California, or scuba diving in

Colombia. Even more important than those

adventures are the many lives I might never have

touched.

I'm just one small, tiny example. Pick any true-life

hero, whether it's Mother Teresa, Mahatma Gandhi,

or the Reverend Martin Luther King and you'll find

someone who had to weather adversity—prison,

violence, even the threat of death—but held on to the

belief that their dreams could prevail.

When negative thoughts and dark moods come to

you, remember that you have a choice. If you need

help, reach out for it. You are not alone. You can

choose to picture better days and to perform actions

that will make them real.

Consider what I was up against as a boy and look at

my life now. Who knows what great days and

wonderful achievements await you? Who knows how

many lives we can make better by serving as

someone else's miracle? So walk with me, the man

with no arms and no legs, into a future filled with

hope!

CHAPTER THREE

Full Assurance

In The Heart

Faith is defined in the Bible as the substance of

things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. You

and I could not live without faith, without putting

our trust in something for which we have no proof.

Most often we talk about faith in terms of religious

beliefs, but there are many other types of faith that

are part of each day. As a Christian, I live according

to my belief in God. Even though I can't see Him or

touch Him, I know in my heart that He exists, and I

put my future in His hands. I don't know what

tomorrow holds, but because I believe in Him, I

know who holds tomorrow.

That is one form of faith. I have faith in many areas

of my life. I accept that there are certain elements I

can't see, touch, or feel, but I believe in them anyway.

I trust that oxygen exists, and I trust that science is

correct in saying that we need it to survive. I can't

see, touch, or feel oxygen. I just know it is there

because I am here. If I am alive, then I must be

breathing it, so oxygen must exist, right?

Just as we must have oxygen to live, we must trust in

certain unseen realities to survive. Why? Because we

all face challenges. You have them. I have them.

There simply are times in our lives when we can't see

a way out, and that is where faith comes in.

I received an e-mail recently from a woman named

Katie who had been laid off from her job because of

her medical problems, which have included nearly

twenty surgeries. She'd been born without a femur

bone in one leg, which had to be amputated when

she was a toddler. Now in her thirties and married,

Katie told me she often struggled with the "Why me?"

question.

After watching one of my videos, Katie realized that

sometimes we just cannot know "Why me?" We must

trust that God's plan for us will be revealed in time.

Until then we must walk in faith.

"I thank you with all my heart. I now believe that I,

like you, am God's chosen one," she wrote. "One day I hope I'll have the honor of meeting you in person to

wrap my arms around, hug, and thank you for

helping me open my eyes to see the light."

Katie found strength and hope only after she decided

to trust in what she could not see or understand.

That's exactly how faith works. You will encounter

challenges that initially seem insurmountable. While

we wait for a solution, faith may be all we have to

hang on to, and sometimes simply trusting that there

will be an answer will get you through those darkest

moments.

That is why I talk about FAITH as an acronym: Full

Assurance In The Heart. I may not be able to produce

evidence for all that I believe in, but I feel fully

assured in my heart that I am much closer to the

truth by living with faith than I would be by living in

despair. When I talk to thousands of schoolchildren

each year, I often explore the notion of trusting in

what we can't see. (Sometimes the little ones are a bit

frightened of me at first. I don't know why because

we're always about the same height. I tell them I'm

small for my age.)

I joke with them until they feel comfortable with me.

Once they're accustomed to my lack of limbs, I find

most kids are fascinated by my little left foot. I'll see

them pointing or staring, so I wave it at them and

make a joke about "my little chicken drumstick."

That always gets a laugh because the description is

quite accurate.

My sister, Michelle, who is six years younger than

me, was the first to make that observation. With our

brother, Aaron, and our parents, we often traveled

on long family trips in which we three kids were

packed like cordwood in the backseat of the car. Like

most dads, ours didn't like to stop once we hit the

road. When we grew hungry, we'd drop big hints to

my dad and mum.

When we were absolutely famished, we'd go a little

crazy and pretend to take bites out of each other. On

one trip Michelle announced that she intended to

chew on my little left foot "because it looks just like a

chicken drumstick." We laughed about it, but I forgot

about her description. Then a few years ago,

Michelle brought home a puppy. The little pup tried

to chew on my foot whenever I sat down. I'd nudge

him away, but he kept coming back to gnaw on it.

"See, it still looks like a chicken drumstick even to my

puppy!" Michelle said.

I loved it! Ever since then, I've told that story in my

speeches to schoolchildren. But once I introduce my

left foot, I ask kids if they think I have just one foot.

This question always throws them for a loop because

they can see only one foot, but it would make sense

for me to have two.

Most kids go with what they can see. They usually tell

me they think I have just one foot. I then produce for

them Junior, my even smaller right foot, which I

normally keep tucked in. Sometimes I shock them by

sticking out my right foot and wiggling it. They

usually shriek and scream. It's funny because kids

are so straightforward. They admit that they have to

see it to believe it.

I then encourage them, just as I now encourage you,

to trust that there are possibilities for your life. The

key to moving forward, even in hard times, is to let

your vision for your life be guided not by what you

can see but by what you can imagine. That's called

having faith.

TRUST IN FLIGHT

My imagination flows through God's eyes. I trust

Him. I have full assurance in my heart that even

without arms and legs, I can build a wonderful life.

In the same way, you should feel that nothing is out

of your reach. Have faith that if you do everything

you possibly can to achieve your dreams, your efforts

will be rewarded.

Sometimes our trust is tested before our hard work

pays off. I was reminded of this in 2009 while on a

speaking tour of Colombia, in South America. I was

booked to speak in nine cities in ten days. With so

many miles to cover in such a limited amount of

time, the tour booker chartered a small airplane to

take us from town to town. There were eight of us on

the flights, including our two pilots, both of whom

were named Miguel and neither of whom spoke

much English. During one of the flights, everyone in

the passenger cabin was startled to hear the plane's

computer call out an automated warning: "Pull up,

pull up!" The alert was in English!

The computer voice tracked our rapid descent with

increasing urgency, giving our plane's decreasing

altitude. "Six hundred feet!" "Five hundred feet!"

"Four hundred feet!" The reports were interspersed

with continuing commands to the pilots to "Pull up!

Pull up!"

No one freaked out, but the mood in the passenger

cabin was more than a little tense. I asked my

caregiver if he thought we needed to be translating

the onboard computer warnings from English to

Spanish for Captains Miguel One and Two.

"Do you think they really don't know we're

descending?" he asked.

I didn't know what to think, but since no one else

seemed to feel it was a problem, I followed their lead

and tried not to freak out. Much to my relief, we soon

landed safely. Later when one of our translators

mentioned our moment of panic to our pilots, they

had a great laugh.

"We knew what the computer was saying, but we

always ignore it when we're landing," Miguel Two

said through the translator. "You should have more

faith in your pilots, Nick!"

Okay, I'll admit, for a minute there I questioned my

trust in the flying Miguels. But most of the time I rest

assured that God is looking out for me and my life.

I'll give you a clue about the strength of my trust: I

have a pair of shoes in my closet! I truly believe it is

possible that someday I will be able to wear them

and walk in them. It may happen. It may not. But I

believe the possibility is there. If you can imagine a

better future, you can believe it. And if you believe it,

you can achieve it.

Unlimited vision.

When I went through my period of depression as a

ten-year-old, I wasn't suffering from anything

physically. I had no arms and no legs, but I had all I

needed to live the rewarding and fulfilling life I have

today—with one exception. Back then I was relying

only on what I could see. I was focused on my

limitations rather than on my possibilities.

We all have limitations. I'll never be an NBA star, but

that's okay because I can inspire people to be the

stars of their own lives. You should never live

according to what you lack. Instead, live as though

you can do anything you dream of doing. Even when

you suffer a setback or a tragedy, there is often an

unexpected, totally improbable, and absolutely

impossible benefit to be realized. It may not happen

right away. You may at times wonder what good

could possibly come of it. But trust that it all happens

for the good—even tragedies can turn into triumphs.

SURF'S UP

I was in Hawaii for a speaking engagement in 2008

when I met the world-class surfer Bethany Hamilton.

You may recall that she lost her left arm when she

was attacked by a tiger shark in 2003.

She was just thirteen years old when that happened.

Prior to the shark attack, Bethany was well known

among surfers, but after she survived that tragedy

and returned to her sport praising God and

thanking Him for his blessings, she became admired

internationally for her courageous spirit and her

amazing faith. Now, like me, she travels the globe to

inspire people and to share her beliefs.

Her goal, she said, is "just to tell about my faith in

God and to let everyone know that He loves them

and to explain just how much He took care of me that

day. I shouldn't be here because I lost seventy

percent of my blood that morning."

I'd never heard the whole story of what happened

that day until our meeting, and I had not realized

how close this awesome young lady came to dying.

She told me how she prayed as they rushed her

to a hospital forty-five minutes away and how her

paramedic whispered encouraging words of faith

into her ear: "God will never leave you or forsake

you."

Things were looking pretty grim. When they finally

arrived at the hospital and hurriedly prepped her for

surgery, they found that all of the operating rooms

were being used. Bethany was fading fast. But one

patient gave up his knee surgery, which was just

about to get under way, so his doctor could operate

on Bethany. Guess who it was?

Bethany's own dad!

Amazing, isn't it? The surgeon was prepped and

ready to operate, so they just switched daughter for

dad and went to work. The operation saved her life.

Since she was such a healthy, athletic girl and had

such an amazingly positive attitude, Bethany

bounced back faster than any of her doctors

expected. She was surfing again just three weeks

after the attack.

During our visit Bethany told me that her faith in

God led her to conclude that losing her arm was part

of His plan for her life. Instead of feeling sorry for

herself, she just accepted it and moved on. In her

first competition against many of the world's best

women surfers, she finished third—with only one

arm! She says that the loss of her arm is a blessing in

many ways because now whenever she does well in a

competition, it inspires other people that their lives

have no limits!

"God has definitely answered my prayer to use me.

He speaks to people when they hear my story," she

says. "People tell me that t:hey have drawn closer to

God, started to believe in God, found hope for their

lives, or were inspired to overcome a difficult

circumstance. I just praise God when I hear that

because it's not me doing anything for them—God is

the One Who is helping them. I'm so stoked that God

would let me be a part of His plan."

You can't help but be stoked by Bethany's incredible

spirit. Few could have blamed her if she'd quit

surfing altogether after the shark attack. She had to

learn how to balance on a surfboard all over again,

but that didn't faze her either. She trusted that even

though something terrible had happened to her, good

could come of it.

RIDING THE WAVES

Remember this amazing girl's faith whenever life

jumps up and takes a bite out of your plans and

dreams. It will happen. We all get hit by unexpected

waves now and then. Chances are your problem

won't be a shark, but whatever knocks you down,

think of this gritty teenage girl who not only survived

an attack from one of nature's most ferocious

predators but bounced back more determined than

ever to lead an awesome life.

Bethany inspired me so much that I asked her to help

me do something I'd always wanted to try. Would she

teach me to surf? To my amazement, she promptly

offered to take me out on Waikiki Beach.

I was psyched at the prospect of learning to surf in

the historic ace where Hawaiian kings and queens

first rode atop waves. I also was more than a little

nervous. As Bethany waxed a longboard for me, she

introduced me to surfing stars Tony Moniz and

Lance Hoo-kano, who would be joining us in the

water.

As I've mentioned, when you find yourself

wondering whether you will be able to accomplish

your goals in life, trust in people who are willing to

lend you a hand and who can serve as your guide.

That's exactly what I did in approaching this goal. I

could not have asked for better surfing buddies. They

started me practicing by balancing on my board in

the grass.

They took turns riding with me, giving me

instructions and cheering me on. As we were wading

into the ocean waves, I was struck by the scary

thought that the two of us had only three limbs

between us—and they were all Bethany's! I loved the

idea of being a surfer dude, and as a strong

swimmer, I have no fear of the water, but I wasn't

sure I could stay on a board atop the waves even with

all the expert help. On one trip I did a 360-degree

turn with one of my instructors on board. On

another I hopped off my board and onto Bethany's

board while surfing!

Eventually I wanted to try it by myself. I can't help it

—I'm a ham. Finally everyone agreed I was ready to

surf solo. To help me get up on my own once I caught

a wave, they created a small platform by duct-taping

a few folded towels to the front of my surfboard,

which I felt confident would help me bring myself

up. Then, once I built up some speed on a wave, I

could leverage my shoulders against the towels and

inch up into a standing position. Where there is a

will and a wave, there is a way!

A surfing competition was being held that day at

Waikiki, and a crowd began to gather, watching us.

Though it made me nervous, I was getting plenty of

advice from the experts.

"Are you really going to try this on the water, dude?"

"Dude, I don't know how you can stay balanced

without arms and legs!"

"Can you swim, dude? Can you swim faster than a

shark, dude?"

Once we were out on the water, I actually felt better.

I am very buoyant, so floating and swimming is not a

problem. I also tend to drift, so I never know where I

might end up. I had visions of floating back to

Australia and washing up in my parents' backyard!

It was a gorgeous day. Bethany was in the water

alongside me, encouraging me, but whenever I tried

to catch a wave and stand up, I'd fall off my board.

Six times I tried. Six times I wiped out.

I couldn't give up. Too many people were watching.

Too many cameras were rolling. I was not about to

be featured on YouTube as the disabled dude who

couldn't hang two. As a kid I'd spent a lot of time

skateboarding, so I was getting a good feel for it.

Finally on my seventh attempt I caught a big wave

and brought myself up. It was such a thrill, I don't

mind telling you that I screamed like a schoolgirl as I

stood atop that board coming into the beach.

Everyone watching along the beach cheered and

whistled as I surfed in. I was stoked! I know that

because everyone told me, "Dude, you are a stoked

dude!"

For the next two hours we caught wave after wave,

making nearly twenty rides. There were several

photographers on the beach because of the

competition, so I became the first rookie surfer ever

to be featured on the cover of Surfer magazine. I

toweled off from a great day on the water.

Later in an interview Lance Hookano made an

interesting observation. "I've been on this beach my

whole life," he said, "and I've never been a part of

something like this. Nick is one of the most stoked

people I have ever seen. He loves it. He's got salt

water running through his veins. It makes me think

anything's possible."

Hold that thought: Anything is possible, When you

feel wiped out and blown away by a huge challenge,

trust that anything is possible. You may not see a way

out at the moment. You may feel that the whole

world is lined up against you. But believe that

circumstances can change, solutions can appear, and

help can arrive from unexpected places. Then

anything is possible!

If a bloke with no arms and no legs can learn to surf

on one of the world's greatest beaches, anything and

everything is possible for you!

FAITH TAKES ROOT

One of the most familiar stories from the Bible is the

Parable of the Sower. A farmer sows seeds all over

the place. Some fall on the road, where birds eat

them. Some fall on rock, so they never take root.

Others fall into thorny weeds that choke off their

growth. Only the seeds thrown on good soil are able

to grow and produce a crop and create many more

seeds than were originally sown.

We not only receive seeds in our lifetime, we also

hold them in the "good soil" of our hearts. When

challenges get us down, we can look to our dreams of

a better life. These dreams act as seeds for the

realities that will come. Our faith is the rich soil that

brings those seeds to life.

Those who loved me always encouraged me. They

planted seeds in my heart. They assured me that I

had blessings that could benefit others. Some days I

believed them. Some days I didn't. But they never

gave up on me. They knew that at times they were

planting on pavement, or in the weeds. Yet they

trusted that their seeds would take root.

My family planted seeds every morning as I went off

to school: "Have a good day, Nicholas! Do your best

and God will do the rest!"

There were days when I'd think, Yeah, yeah, God has

a mean sense of humor because I know I'll be teased

today on the playground.

Sure enough, as soon as I rolled onto the school

grounds in my wheelchair, some jerk would be

telling me I had a flat tire or that they wanted to use

me as a doorstop in the library. Very funny.

On those days of discouragement, the supportive

words from my parents fell on hard ground. There

was nothing to nurture them. I was too bitter at the

circumstances I'd been born into.

But in the months and years following my bad trip to

the bathtub, more and more of their encouragement

fell on fertile ground. Part of it was that I won over

my classmates with my determination and outgoing

personality. I still had my down days, but I had fewer

of them.

The great inspirational author Norman Vincent Peale

once said, "Become a possibilitarian. No matter how

dark your life seems to be, raise your sights and see

the possibilities. Always see them, for they are always

there."

You may never be a Presbyterian or a Rotarian, but

you should always be a card-carrying Possibilitarian.

Without trust in the possibilities for your life, where

would you be? Where would any of us be? Our hopes

for the future give us momentum. They keep us

moving forward through the inevitable hard times,

the discouragement, and the despair.

My Possibilitarian tendencies showed up early in life.

I was six or seven when I wrote and illustrated my

first book. The title was The Unicorn That Had No

Wings. It's no deep mystery where I came up with

that concept, but I have to say that my little parable

drawn from my own life still offers a nice message

about faith. (Don't worry. It's short. I was only six

when I wrote it.)

Once there was a mother-unicorn who was having a

baby. When the unicorn grew, it didn't have any

wings.

The mother unicorn said, "What happened to her

wings?"

When the unicorn went for a walk, she could see

unicorns flying in the sky. Then a little boy came to

the unicorn and said: "What happened to your

wings?"

The unicorn answered: "I didn't grow any wings,

little boy."

Then the little boy said: "I'll try and make you some

plastic wings."

It took him an hour to make the plastic wings for the

unicorn.

When the boy was finished, he asked the unicorn if

he could go on the unicorn's back, and the unicorn

said to the boy: "Yes you can."

So they went for a run, then the unicorn started to

fly, and the unicorn shouted: "It worked. It worked."

When the unicorn stopped flying, the boy got off the

unicorn's back. Then the unicorn went back in the

sky. The little boy said to the unicorn.

"Congratulations, unicorn!"

The little boy went back home. He told his mum and

his two sisters and his brother what had happened to

the unicorn. The unicorn lived happily ever after.

The End.

We all wish to live happily ever after. Even if you

believe you can handle the hard times and savor the

good times, disappointments will occur. But the

happy ending should always be your goal. Why not

shoot for it?

PATIENCE REWARDED

My team at Life Without Limbs helped me plan a

World Outreach Tour in 2008 with the goal of visiting

fourteen countries. In the early planning, we set a

budget and held a fund raising campaign to cover

our expenses for the trip. We didn't have

professional fundraisers on staff then, and we fell far

short of our goal. We raised only about one third of

what we felt we needed. I forged ahead and started

the tour with visits to Colombia, Ukraine, Serbia, and

Romania. When I returned home, my advisers were

concerned that we didn't have the funds to continue

with the rest of the tour.

My uncle Batta is a successful businessman in

California, and he serves on my board. He made an

executive decision to cancel two major stops on the

rest of my planned tour. Money was not the only

reason.

"We are getting more and more reports that it might

not be safe to travel because of unrest in India,

especially Mumbai, and Indonesia," he said. "Since

we are short of our budget anyway, I think it would

be wise to visit those countries another time."

My uncle is a very wise man, and I didn't argue with

him. I told him that I trusted him. Then I went to a

speaking engagement in Florida, where there were

450 volunteers just to handle the huge crowd. I was

there to inspire them, but my audience charged me

up with their enthusiasm. On the way home to

California, I was so encouraged by the reception I

received in Florida that I felt an overpowering need

to continue our world tour as planned.

I prayed and prayed for guidance. I felt that I should

go to India and Indonesia despite our insufficient

funds and the signs of danger. I believed we could

serve others and the rest would take care of itself.

Uncle Batta invited me to dinner at his home to

discuss my desire to continue based on faith and not

on funds.

As we were talking over dinner, I became very

emotional about the situation. I just felt so strongly

that this was something I needed to do. Uncle Batta

understands me and my drive to bring my message

to as many people as I can.

"Let's see where the Lord leads us in the next few

weeks," he said patiently.

You don't give up when faced with challenges. You

don't run away from them either. You assess the

situation, look for solutions, and trust that whatever

happens, it will come together for the good. Patience

is essential. You plant the seeds. You weather the

storms.

You wait for the harvest. Mostly when you encounter

an obstacle, you don't do anything foolish. You don't

bash your head against it. You don't turn around in

defeat. You look for the best solution while trusting

that every obstacle serves a purpose.

When the money wasn't there to complete our world

tour, we didn't rush out and spend money we didn't

have. We prayed. We looked for solutions. We

believed that if the door remained closed for now, it

would one day open to another opportunity.

The important point to remember is that you will

always find a way as you keep looking for it. You may

have to adjust your goals to the realities. But as long

as you keep breathing, you should remember that

the possibilities are still there.

That said, I've got to tell you this: We didn't receive a

single answer to our prayers for a way to finance the

rest of tour. But then an amazing series of events

unfolded.

A few days after my dinner with Uncle Batta, a fellow

named Bryan Hart, who'd heard me speak in Florida,

called and offered our foundation a large sum of

money as a gift.

Then our contacts in Indonesia called to say that

they'd rented out two stadiums for us in Hong Kong.

They promised to make sure our costs were covered

if we came.

Two days after that a California charitable

organization came up with an even greater sum that

covered the remaining costs for the trip!

Within days money was no longer an issue. We still

had security concerns about some of the places

where we were going, but we put our trust in God.

SAVING GRACE

Remember when I said it all came together for the

good? Because of the money shortage, we had

changed our schedule for India, but when funding

became available, we rescheduled our visit there and

actually made it a week earlier.

That change in schedule may well have saved our

lives. Just a couple days after we were in Mumbai,

three of the locations we visited were hit by

terrorists. The Taj Hotel, the airport, and the

southern Mumbai train station were among their

targets in attacks that killed 180 people and left 300

injured.

Our original schedule would have had us in Mumbai,

at those very locations, during those attacks. You

might say we were lucky, but I believe God had a

plan that we could not see. That is why it is so

important to have faith in the future and to keep

working toward your goals even when the odds seem

stacked against you.

A FOOT UP ON LIFE

I began this chapter talking about my left foot, a very

useful little appendage. I've learned to be very

thankful for my left foot because innovators are busy

inventing nifty gadgets that work just perfectly for it.

Joysticks and touch screens are some of the handiest

foot devices to come my way. Even without arms and

legs, I can now experience life in ways that my

parents and I never would have imagined when I

was a child. Though the possibilities for my life may

have seemed narrow back then, the limits have been

fading away thanks to modern technology and the

power of believing and achieving.

As difficult as your life can be, as cruel and

unrelenting as it may get, you should hang in there.

My situation seemed bleak when I first came into this

world, but I have managed to carve out a fulfilling

life with many rewards. And if you think I'm an

exception, consider the accomplishments of one of

my personal heroes, the late Christy Brown.

Born in Dublin, Ireland, in 1932, Christy was the

tenth of twenty-two children in his family, though

only thirteen of them survived to adulthood. Christy

entered the world with all his limbs, but he was

terribly crippled, so much so that he could not move

and could only barely utter sounds. At the time the

doctors did not know what was wrong with him.

Years later he would be diagnosed with an especially

severe form of cerebral palsy.

Because Christy could not speak clearly, doctors

thought for years that he was mentally handicapped

too. His mother insisted that he had no problems

mentally—he just could not communicate. She and

other family members worked and worked with him.

Then one day while Christy was trying to get

something across to his sister, he grabbed a piece of

chalk from her with his left foot. Due to his physical

disabilities, it was the only part of his body he could

control.

Christy learned to write, draw, and paint with his left

foot. His family, like mine, was determined to give

him as normal a life as possible, so they hauled him

around in an old go-cart and then in a wagon. Like

me, he became an avid swimmer. Then his mother

met a doctor who helped get him admitted to Johns

Hopkins Hospital. This doctor later created a hospital

for Christy and other cerebral palsy patients.

He also introduced Christy to literature, and several

famous Irish writers inspired Christy to express

himself as a poet and author. His first book was a

memoir called My Left Foot; it was expanded into a

best-selling novel, Down All the Days, and was made

into a movie starring Daniel Day-Lewis (who, by the

way, is the son of one of Christy's literary friends,

Cecil). Day-Lewis won the best actor Oscar for his

portrayal. Christy eventually published six other

books and was also an avid painter.

Think of the long dark days Christy Brown and his

family spent wondering what quality of life he would

ever have. He could move only one small part of his

tormented body. He could make only a few sounds.

Yet he became a noted writer, poet, and painter and

led an amazing life that was depicted in an award-

winning movie!

What lies in store for you? Why would you not stick

around to see how your story unfolds?

A FULL VIEW

At times in my childhood I had a limited perspective.

My vision of my life was so self-centered that I never

dreamed there were other people in worse circum-

stances than mine, people like Christy Brown. Then,

around age thirteen, I read a newspaper story about

an Australian man who'd been involved in a horrible

accident. As I recall, he was paralyzed, unable to

move or talk, and confined to a bed for the rest of his

life. I couldn't imagine how horrible that would be.

His story helped to open my eyes and expand my

vision. I realized that while my lack of limbs posed

many challenges, I still had so much to be thankful

for, so many possibilities in my life.

There is great power in believing in your destiny. You

can move mountains. My awakening to the fullness

of possibilities was a gradual process. At age fifteen I

heard the story of the blind man in the Gospel of

John. He'd been blind since birth, and when the

followers of Jesus saw him, they asked their leader,

"Who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was

born blind?"

It was the same question I had asked myself. Did my

parents do something wrong? Did I do something

wrong?} Why else would I have been born without

arms and legs?

Jesus replied, "Neither hath this man sinned, nor his

parents." Rather, he was born blind "but that the

works of God should be made manifest in him."

When the blind man heard that explanation, it

changed dramatically his vision of his life and the

possibilities for it. You can imagine how this parable

resonated with me as a teenager, so aware of being

different, of being disabled, of being reliant on

others. Suddenly I saw a new possibility. I was not a

burden. I was not deficient. I was not being

punished. I was custom-made for God's works to be

made manifest in me!

When I read that Bible verse at age fifteen, a wave of

peace swept over me as I'd never known before. I'd

been questioning why I was born without limbs, but

now I realized that the answer was unknowable to

anyone but God. I simply had to accept that and

believe in the possibilities that He would present for

me.

No one knows why I was born with my disability, just

as no one knew why that blind man was born with

his. Jesus said it had been done so that the works of

God might be revealed.

Those words gave me a sense of joy and a feeling of

great strength. For the first time I realized that the

fact that I couldn't understand why I have no limbs

didn't mean that my Creator had abandoned me. The

blind man was healed to serve His purpose. I wasn't

healed, but my purpose would be revealed in time.

You must understand that sometimes in life you

won't get the answers you seek right away. You have

to walk by faith. I had to learn to trust in the

possibilities for my life. If I can have that trust, you

can too.

Think about it: I had no way of knowing, as a boy,

that my lack of limbs would help me offer my

message of hope in so many nations and to so many

diverse people. The hard times and the discourage-

ments are not fun. You don't have to pretend to enjoy

them. But believe in the possibilities for better days

ahead, for a fulfilling and purposeful life.

A ROLE MODEL

The first time I really witnessed the power of

believing in one's destiny was during a high school

assembly, when I heard my first motivational

speaker, he was an American named Reggie Dabbs,

and he had a tough job that day. There were fourteen

hundred kids in our school assembly. The air was hot

and sticky. The cranky sound system crackled and

popped and sometimes just quit.

The natives were restless, but he totally captivated us

with his story, telling us that he'd been born to an

unmarried teenage Louisiana prostitute who had

considered abortion to solve her "little problem."

Fortunately for Reggie, she decided to give birth to

him. She had no family and no place to live once she

became pregnant so she moved into a chicken coop.

Huddled there one night, scared and alone, she

remembered that a former teacher, a very

sympathetic woman, had told her to call if she ever

needed help. That teacher's name was Mrs. Dabbs.

She drove from her home in Tennessee to Louisiana,

picked up the pregnant teen, and took her home to

her own family, a husband and six grown children.

Mrs. Dabbs and her husband adopted Reggie and

gave him their last name.

The couple instilled in him strong moral values,

Reggie said. One of the primary lessons they taught

him was that no matter what his situation or

circumstances, he always had the choice of

responding in either a negative way or a positive

way.

Reggie told us that he'd almost always made the right

decisions because he had faith in the possibilities for

his life. He didn't want to do bad because he believed

there was so much good awaiting him. He especially

emphasized something that really hit home with me:

"You can never change your past, but you can change

your future!"

I took his words to heart. He touched all of us. Reggie

also helped plant a seed in my mind about having a

career as a public speaker. I liked the fact that this

humble guy had a positive impact on such a big,

fidgety group of people in just a few minutes. And it

was also pretty cool that he jetted about the planet

just to talk to people—he got paid to give people

hope!

As I left school that day, I thought, Maybe I'll have a

good story like Reggie's to share someday. I encourage you to accept that you may not be able to see a path

right now, but that doesn't mean it's not there. Have

faith, your story is still waiting to unfold, and I know

it will be incredible!

CHAPTER FOUR

Love The Perfectly Imperfect You

One day during a tour of East Asia, I spoke to more

than three hundred top business executives and

entrepreneurs in Singapore. After I finished my

presentation and as the hall was clearing, a dignified

gentleman came rushing toward me. He looked as

successful and self-assured as the rest of the

distinguished audience, so his first words on

reaching me were surprising.

"Nick, help me," he pleaded.

As I came to learn, this accomplished man owned

three banks, but he had humbly come to me for help

because material wealth offered no protection from

the anguish he was going through.

"I have a wonderful daughter who is fourteen, and

for some horrible reason every time she looks in the

mirror she says she feels ugly," he said. "It's breaking my heart that she can't see that she is truly beautiful.

How can I make her see what I see?"

It's easy to understand the man's distress, since the

most difficult thing for parents to endure is their

children suffering. He was trying to help her get

through this self-hatred, which was so important,

because if we can't accept ourselves when we are

young and healthy, how will we feel when we age

and experience the medical problems that come with

advancing years? And if we hate ourselves for some

random reason, it's quite easy to wind up replacing it

with hundreds of other arbitrary and equally invalid

ones. Youthful insecurities can send you plunging in

a downward spiral if you allow yourself to focus on

your flaws instead of your strengths.

The Bible tells us that we are "fearfully and wonder-

fully made." Why, then, is it so difficult for us to love

ourselves just as we are? Why do we so often become

burdened with feelings that we are not beautiful

enough, not tall enough, not thin enough, not good

enough? I'm sure this Singapore father lavished his

daughter with love and praise, trying to build her

confidence and esteem. Our parents and loved ones

can wear themselves out trying to build us up, yet it

only takes one mean remark from a classmate or

nasty comment from a boss or co-worker to undo

their efforts.

We become vulnerable and fall into the victim's

mentality when we base how we feel about ourselves

on other people's opinions or compare ourselves

with others. When you are unwilling to accept

yourself, you are less willing to accept others, and

that can lead to loneliness and isolation. One day I

was speaking to a group of teens about how the

desire to be popular often leads people to shun the

less attractive or athletic kids in school. To make my

point, I asked a straightforward question: "How

many of you would like to be my friend?"

To my relief, most of the people in the room raised

their hands.

But then I asked a question that threw them off: "So

it doesn't matter how I look, right?"

I let it sink in for a few minutes. We'd just been

talking about how kids spend so much time trying to

fit in by wearing just the right clothes, having a cool

haircut, and being not too heavy, not too thin, not too

tan or too white.

"How can you want to be friends with a guy with no

arms and no legs—the most different guy you'll

probably ever meet—but then reject classmates

because they don't have the right jeans, or a clear

complexion, or a body suited for the fashion

runway?"

When you judge yourself harshly or put intense

pressure on yourself, you become judgmental of

others. Loving and accepting yourself as God loves

you opens the door to a much greater sense of peace

and fulfillment.

The pressures that teens and young adults feel seem

to be universal. I've been invited to address young

people in both China and South Korea because of

concerns about high levels of depression and suicide

in those rapidly developing, hard-working nations.

I arrived in South Korea just as the 2010 Winter

Olympic Games were getting under way in

Vancouver. It was fun to see the national pride and

enthusiasm of people everywhere in Seoul when Kim

Yu-Na, South Korea's "queen" of figure skating,

captured her country's first Olympic figure-skating

gold medal. Interest was so high in her quest that

during her final performance trade on the country's

stock market fell to half its normal level.

I had been featured in a documentary that was seen

widely throughout South Korea's large Christian

population, which led to several invitations to speak.

The explosion of faith there is amazing. My hosts at

the Onnuri Church told me that South Korean

Christians are passionate for missionary work. They

predicted that within a decade or two South Korean

missionaries would outnumber North American

missionaries, which is remarkable given that South

Korea is so much smaller.

As we drove into Seoul, I was struck by the number

of churches. The capital city is said to have the three

largest Christian churches in the world. Although

just one hundred years ago Christians in South Korea

were few, nearly a third of its 48 million people now

call themselves Christians. One of the churches I

spoke at, the Yoido Full Gospel Church, has more

than 800,000 members who attend services at

twenty-one churches.

Friends of mine visit South Korea just to tour the

churches. The prayer meetings are incredible with

out-loud praying and the ringing of bells to signal

each new program. Yet even with this strong

spiritual growth, the people have high levels of stress

because of the strain of long hours at work. The

pressure in the schools is also intense because of

fierce competition to be the best. Many young people

are stressed by the feeling that first place is the only

worthy place. If they don't get the top position, they

feel they've lost. I encourage them to know that

failing an exam doesn't make them failures. We are

all of value in God's eyes, and we should love

ourselves as He loves us.

The kind of self-love and self-acceptance I'm

advocating is not about loving yourself in a self-

absorbed, conceited way. This form of self-love is

self-less. You give more than you take. You offer

without being asked. You share when you don't have

much. You find happiness by making others smile.

You love yourself because you are not all about

yourself. You are happy with who you are because

you make others happy to be around you.

But what if you just can't love yourself because no

one else loves you? I'm afraid that is simply not

possible. You see, you and I are God's children. Each

of us can count on His unconditional love, His mercy,

and His forgiveness. We should love ourselves, be

understanding of our imperfections, and forgiving of

our mistakes because God does all of that for us.

During a tour of South America I spoke at a drug

rehabilitation center in Colombia. The addicts and

former addicts in my audience had so little regard

for their value as human beings that they'd nearly

destroyed themselves with drugs. I told them that

God loved them no matter how long they'd been

addicted. Their faces lit up when I assured them,

through an interpreter, that God loved them

unconditionally. If God is willing to forgive our sins

and love us like that, why can't we forgive and accept

ourselves? Like the daughter of the Singapore

banker, these Colombian drug users lost their way

because, for whatever reasons, they devalued their

lives. They felt they were unworthy of the best that

life had to offer. I told them that we are all worthy of

God's love. If He forgives us and loves us, we should

forgive and love ourselves and then strive for the

best life possible.

When Jesus was asked to name the most important

commandments, he said the first was to love God

with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength, and the

second was to love your neighbor as yourself. Loving

yourself is not about being selfish, self-satisfied, or

self-centered; it's about accepting your life as a gift to

be nurtured and shared as a blessing to others.

Instead of dwelling on your imperfections, your

failings, or your mistakes, focus on your blessings

and the contribution you can make, whether it's a

talent, knowledge, wisdom, creativity, hard work, or

a nurturing soul. You don't have to live up to anyone

else's expectations. You can define your own version

of perfection.

SHINE FROM WITHIN

The psychiatrist and author Elisabeth Kubler-Ross

said people are like stained-glass windows: "They

sparkle and shine when the sun is out, but when

darkness sets in their true beauty is revealed only if

there is a light from within." To live without limits

and especially to survive the darkness of depression,

drug addiction, alcoholism, or any major challenge,

you must switch on that light within. You must

believe in your own beauty and value as someone

who can make a difference, someone who matters.

Finding your purpose is the first important step to

living a life without limits. Maintaining hope for the

future and faith in the possibilities even in difficult

times will keep you moving toward that goal. But to

be fulfilled, you must know in your heart that you

are worthy of success and happiness. You must love

yourself, just as God loves all who are faithful.

I have a friend who is so comfortable with himself, so

at peace and enthused about developing his gifts,

that he just seems to radiate good feelings. I love

being with him. Everyone loves being with him.

Why? Because he shines from within. He loves

himself, but not in a "you're so vain" way; he accepts himself as blessed, even when events don't go his

way, even though he struggles just like you and me.

I'm sure you know people who give off that same

comfortable vibe, just as you probably know the

opposite sort of person whose bitterness and self-

loathing drive everyone away. If you don't accept

yourself, it not only leads to self-destruction, it leads

to isolation.

If you don't shine from within, it may be because you

rely on others to validate you, to give you confidence,

and to make you feel appreciated. But that is a sure

road to disappointment because you must accept

yourself first. The only important measure of your

beauty and value as a person should be the one that

comes from within.

I know, easy to say, tough to do. I've struggled with

this too. As the child of Christian parents, I'd always

been taught that Jesus loved me and that I was

created perfectly according to His plan. Of course, all

my parents' Bible teachings and all my family's

efforts to lift me up came crashing down as soon as

one snotty little kid ran up to me and screamed,

"You're a freak!"

Life can be cruel. People can be thoughtless or just

plain mean. So you must be able to look inside for

strength, and when that inner strength fails, you can

always look above, to God, the ultimate source of

strength and love.

Self-acceptance and self-love are important but often

misunderstood concepts these days. You should love

yourself as a reflection of God's love and as someone

put on this earth to make a unique contribution. Too

many teens and adults settle for a more superficial

meaning when they buy into the extremes of

narcissism and self-indulgence. This is due, in no

little part, to the cult of beauty and celebrity

promoted on reality shows, movies, podcasts, and

videos. When you watch those shows, it is easy to

forget that life has a greater purpose than looking

good, living in luxury, and hooking up. No wonder

more celebrities are in rehab than in church. Too

many of them worship the false gods of vanity, pride,

and lust.

I can't imagine that any previous generation has

been lied to as much as the present ones. We are

continually bombarded with messages that we need

to have a certain look, a certain car, and a certain

lifestyle in order to be fulfilled, loved, appreciated, or

considered successful. We've come to a dangerous

point in our culture when being in a sex video is

considered a path to fame, fortune, and fulfillment.

Don't you think this would be a better world if the

paparazzi followed college graduates with advanced

degrees, or missionaries bringing medicine and hope

to the poor and needy, instead of stalking rehab

dropouts with rap sheets and needle scars? But all is

not lost. I've seen huge throngs of people, young and

old, attend religious ceremonies and festivals of

praise, seeking contentment by learning to love their

neighbor. I've watched teens and adults spend their

vacations building homes in Third World countries

and serving the needy in impoverished areas of

North America. Not everyone is obsessed with plastic

surgery, liposuction, and Louis Vuitton bags.

When you get caught up in material goods and

surface beauty, and when you let other people

determine your value, you give up too much of

yourself and risk letting your blessings go to waste.

After watching my DVD, Kristy wrote to me: "You

made me realize what's the point of having someone

love you if you don't love yourself? I saw you over a

year ago and again today. I realized I need to tell you

what you have done for me. You have taught me to

stand up for myself, love myself for who I am, and

just live my life the way I want to live it. . . Oh by the

way, now that I have changed the way I feel about

myself, my boyfriend has noticed a big difference in

me, and he is grateful to you. He was always scared

for me, afraid I might do something stupid one day

and kill myself. But now I have changed, and my life

is so much happier!"

SELF-ACCEPTANCE

My message resonated with Kristy because I've been

where she was. When I was seven years old, I went

home after one particularly cruel day of rejection

and disappointment and spent hours staring into my

mirror. Most teens worry about pimples and keeping

their hair under control. I had all of the usual

challenges on top of the missing limbs.

I really am just a weird-looking bloke, I thought.

Grief overwhelmed me. I allowed myself to wallow in

self-pity for a good five minutes. But then a voice

from deep inside said, Okay, like your mum says,

you're missing some bits and pieces, but you have

some good features too.

I thought, Name one. I dare you. Just find one thing,

and that will be enough.

I studied my reflected image a little longer and

finally came up with something positive.

I have nice eyes. Girls have told me I have nice eyes. I

have that if nothing else! And no one can change that

about me. My eyes will never change, so I will always

have beautiful eyes.

When you feel your spirits tumbling because you've

been hurt or bullied or disparaged, go to the mirror

and find one feature you love about yourself. It

doesn't have to be a physical characteristic. It can be

a talent, a trait, or something else that makes you feel

good about yourself. Dwell on that special something

for a while. Be grateful for it, and know that your

beauty and value come from the unique person you

were made to be.

Don't cop out and claim, "There is nothing special

about me." We are so hard on ourselves, especially

when we compare ourselves unfavorably to others. I

see this especially when I talk to teenagers. So many

of them struggle with feelings of inadequacy, or the

sense that no one will ever love them.

That is why I make it a point to tell them, "I love you

just as you are. You are beautiful to me."

Those are simple words from me, a strange-looking

stranger. I offer them in most of my speaking

engagements for schools and youth groups. My

simple words always seem to strike a chord. In fact,

the response is usually quite remarkable.

The typical reaction begins with a muffled whimper

or a smothered sniffle. I'll look out to see a girl with

her head down or a boy with his hands over his face.

Then the powerful emotions will sweep through the

room like a contagion. Tears will flow down young

cheeks. Shoulders shake from stifled sobs. Girls

huddle together. Boys leave the room to hide their

faces.

The first few times this happened, I was taken aback.

What's going on! Why are they responding so

strongly ? My audience members themselves have

answered those questions. After my speeches, young

and old, they line up to hug me and share their

feelings. Again, the response is overwhelming. Often

they line up for hours.

Now, I'm a handsome enough bloke, but people don't

stand in lines for hours to hug me because I'm so

dashing. What really seems to be drawing them is

that I unleash a pair of powerful forces that so many

are lacking in their lives: unconditional love and self-

acceptance.

Kristy's is just one of many e-mails and letters I

receive and personal conversations I have with

people young and old who've thought about taking

their lives because they've lost their ability to love

themselves. When you are hurt, you build walls to

keep from being hurt again, but you can't build an

interior wall around your heart. And if you will only

love yourself as you are, for all your natural beauty

inside and out, others will be drawn to you, and they

will see your beauty too.

LOVE YOURSELF ENOUGH

TO LAUGH AT YOURSELF

Our friends and loved ones can tell us one hundred

times a day that we are beautiful and we are loved

and that the hard times will pass, but too often we

shrug off the supportive words and hang on to the

hurt. I did that for the longest time. My parents

would spend weeks trying to undo the damage done

by one or two kids who teased me on the playground.

But finally when someone my own age reached out, I

was transformed. When one girl in my class told me

that I was "looking good," I walked on a cloud for a

month.

Of course, a short time later, I woke up at thirteen

years old with a pimple on my nose. It was not

pretty. It was a huge, ripe tomato of a pimple.

"Look at this, it's crazy," I told my mum.

"Don't scratch it," my mum said.

What would I scratch it with! I wondered.

I went to school feeling like the ugliest dude on the

planet. Every time I passed a classroom and saw my

reflection in the windows, I wanted to run and hide.

Other kids stared at it. I kept hoping it would go

away, but two days later it was even bigger, the

largest and reddest pimple in the universe. I began to

think it would one day outweigh the rest of me.

The monstrous deformity would not go away! My

humongous zit was still there eight months later. I

felt like Rudolph the Red-Nosed Australian. Finally

my mum took me to a dermatologist. I told him I

wanted the pimple removed even if it took major

surgery. He examined it with a huge magnifying

glass—as if he couldn't see it—and said, "Hmmmm.

It's not a pimple."

Whatever it is, I thought, let's just get rid of it, shall

we!

"It's a swollen oil gland," he said. "I can cut it off or burn it off, but either way it will leave you with a

scar bigger than this little red dot."

Little red dot!

"It's so big I can't see around it," I protested.

"Would you rather be scarred for life?" he asked.

The giant not-a-zit remained on my nose. I prayed

and fretted about it for a while, but finally I realized

that the bright red bulb on my nose was no more of a

distraction than my lack of limbs. If people aren't

willing to talk to me, that is their loss, I decided.

If I caught someone staring at it, I made a joke. I told

them I was growing an extra nose to sell on the black

market. When people saw that I could laugh at

myself, they laughed with me and empathized. After

all, who hasn't had a pimple? Even Brad Pitt has

pimples.

Sometimes, through our own doing, we make little

problems big by taking them way too seriously.

Having a pimple is part of the deal. We are all

perfectly imperfect human beings, some of us maybe

more than others, but we all have our flaws and our

shortcomings. It's important to not take every little

wart or wrinkle too seriously because one day you

will have something truly serious go wrong, and then

what will you do? So stand prepared to laugh at life's

little knocks on the heads and bumps on the nose.

Laughter has been shown to reduce stress by

releasing endorphin hormones, the body's natural

relaxant, boosting your immune system and

improving your blood flow while also increasing

oxygen to the brain. Not bad, eh? Studies have also

shown that laughter makes you more attractive. A

double bonus!

BEAUTY IS BLIND

Do you know what is really laughable? Vanity is

hilarious, because just as soon as you think you are

looking good and sexy and worthy of the cover of

People magazine, along comes a life lesson to make

you realize that beauty really is in the eyes of the

beholder, and what is on the outside is not nearly as

important as what is on the inside.

Recently I met a young Australian girl who is blind.

We were doing a Fun Run to raise money to provide

medical equipment for needy kids. This girl was

about five years old. Her mum introduced her to me

after the event. The mother explained to her that I'd

been born with no arms and no legs.

Blind people sometimes ask to touch my body so they

can comprehend what someone without limbs is like.

I don't mind it, so when this girl asked her mother if

she could "see" for herself, I gave permission. Her

mum guided her hand over my shoulders and over

my little left foot. The girl's reaction was interesting.

She was very calm as she felt my empty shoulder

sockets and my strange little foot. Then when she put

her hands on my face, she screamed!

It was hilarious.

"What? My beautiful face scares you?" I asked,

laughing.

"No! It's that hair all over you! Are you a wolf?"

She had never felt a beard before. When she touched

my stubble, she freaked out. She told her mother that

it was sad I was so hairy! This girl had her own idea

of what was attractive, and obviously my beard was

not on the list. I wasn't offended. I was glad to be

reminded that beauty is definitely in the eyes—and

touch—of the beholder.

CELEBRATE YOUR

YOU-NIQUENESS

We humans are a silly bunch. We spend half our

time trying to fit in with the crowd and the other half

trying to stand out from it. Why is that? I'm guilty of

it, and I'm sure you are too, because it seems to be

universal, part of our human nature. Why can't we

be comfortable with ourselves, knowing that we are

God's creations, made to reflect His glory?

As a schoolboy, I was desperate to fit in, just as most

teens are. Have you ever noticed that even the teens

who want to be "different" usually hang out with kids who dress, talk, and act just like them? What's with

that, mate? How can you be an outsider if

everyone you hang with wears the same black

clothing, black nail polish, black lipstick, and black

eyeliner? Doesn't that make you an insider instead?

Tattoos and piercings used to be a rebellious

statement of rugged individualism. Now soccer

moms in the grocery have tattoos and piercings.

There has to be a better way to celebrate your

individuality than following the same fads and

trends as every mum at the mall, doesn't there?

I've adopted an attitude that might work for you. I've

decided that my beauty lies in my differences, in the

fact that I'm not like everybody else. I'm uniquely

me. Nobody will ever call me "average" or "just

another guy." I may not stand tall in a crowd, but I

definitely stand out.

That attitude has served me well because I often

draw strange reactions from children as well as

adults when they see me for the first time. Kids tend

to reckon I'm from another planet or I'm some sort of

monster. Teens tend to have lurid imaginations so

they assume I was maimed by an ax murderer or

something equally gruesome. Adults leap to strange

conclusions too. Often they suspect that I'm a

mannequin or a Muppet.

Once when I was visiting relatives in Canada, they

took me trick-or-treating for the very first time. They

found a big scary old man mask that covered my

entire body, and then they carried me door to door.

At first we didn't get much reaction from people,

until we figured out that they didn't think I was real.

We finally realized this when a woman dropped

some of my favorite lollies in my bag, and I said,

"Thank you! Trick or treat!"

The woman shrieked and jumped backward. "There's

a child in there?" she screamed. "I thought you were

carrying a doll!"

Well, I am pretty cute, I thought.

When I'm feeling frisky, I've been known to take full

advantage of my uniqueness. I love to cruise around

shopping malls with my cousins and friends. One day

a few years ago we were in a mall in Australia when

we spotted a window display For Bonds underwear,

which is the Down Under version of Haines or

Jockey, a briefs brand that has been around for a

long, long time.

The male mannequin was wearing a pair of Bonds

"tighty whitey" underwear. He had a body just like

mine: all head and torso, no limbs—and a nice six-

pack of abs. I happened to be wearing my own Bond

brand drawers, so my cousins and I decided that I

too could serve as a window model. We went into the

store. My cousins hoisted me into the window display

case. I then took up a position next to the

mannequin.

For the next five minutes, I baited mall rats. When-

ever window shoppers stopped or glanced at me, I

twitched, smiled, winked, or bowed—to their utter

shock and horror! Of course, this bit of punking

provoked uproarious laughter from my co-

conspirators watching from outside the store.

Afterward they made the case that if my public

speaking career ever faltered, I could always find

work as a department store dummy.

LIGHT IT UP

I've learned to laugh about my disabilities and the

strange responses they provoke, but there is an even

better method for overcoming doubts about your

self-worth or your inability to love yourself as you

are. Instead of dwelling on that pain within, reach

out to ease someone else's pain. Put your focus on

someone else in need.

Volunteer at a soup kitchen. Raise money for

orphans. Organize a benefit to help earthquake

victims. Find sponsors who'll donate money if you

take part in a charity walk, or bike ride, or dance

marathon. Rise up and reach out.

When I do that, I discover what is perhaps the best

solution for anyone who has failed to turn on the

light of love within.

If you can't resolve your own issues, be the solution

for someone else. After all, it's better to give than to

receive, right; If you don't love yourself, then give

yourself away. If you do that, you'll be amazed at

how valuable you feel.

How do I know that? C'mon, mate, look at me. Look

at my life. Do I seem like a happy and fulfilled person

to you?

A nose job won't bring you a life of joy. A Ferrari

won't make you admired by millions. You already

have what it takes to be loved and valued; it's just a

matter of releasing and maximizing all that lies

within you. You won't always be perfect, and that's

perfectly fine. The idea isn't to attain perfection in

your lifetime; it's to seek it.

You want to keep striving, keep growing, keep giving

all you have to give so that, in the end, you can look

back and say, I gave it my best shot.

Take a look in the mirror right now and say, "This is

who I am, and I accept the challenge of becoming the

best I can be." You are beautiful because God created

you for His purpose. Your challenge is to find that

purpose, fuel it with hope, drive it on faith, and put

your you-niqueness to the highest possible use.

Loving and accepting yourself is the only surefire

cure for self-pity and victimhood. Drugs, alcohol, and

promiscuity offer only temporary relief, and

eventually they bring only more pain. When I came

to see myself as a child of God and a part of His plan,

my life was forever changed. You may not be a

believer in Christ, but you can believe in your value

and purpose on this planet.

BE A FRIEND AND BE HAPPY

My best advice for finding inner happiness is to

reach outside yourself, to use your talents and brains

and personality to make life better for someone else.

I've been on the receiving end of that, and I'm not

exaggerating when I tell you that it changed my life.

I was sixteen and a student at Runcorn State High

School in Queensland. I usually had to wait an hour

or so after school for my ride home. Most days I'd

hang out talking to other kids or to a great guy

named Mr. Arnold. He wasn't the principal or even a

teacher. He was the school janitor. But Mr. Arnold

was one of those people who glowed from within. He

was so at peace with himself, so comfortable in his

coveralls, that everyone respected him and enjoyed

being around him.

Mr. Arnold could talk about any subject. He was

spiritual and wise. On some days he led a Christian

youth discussion at lunch-time. He invited me to join,

even though I told him I wasn't big into religion. But I

liked him, and so I began attending their sessions.

Mr. Arnold encouraged kids to talk about their lives

at these meetings, but I always turned down his

invitations. "Come on, Nick, we'd like to hear your

story," he'd say. "We want to know more about you

and what you're thinking."

For three months I refused. "I don't have a story to

tell," I'd say.

Finally Mr. Arnold wore me down. The other kids

were very open about their feelings and their

experiences, so I finally consented to talk about my

own at the next meeting. I was so nervous, I

prepared note cards with bullet points. (Nerdy, I

know.)

I wasn't expecting to impress anyone. I just wanted to

get through it and get out of there, or so I told myself.

A part of me also wanted to show the other kids that I

had the same feelings, hurts, and fears that they'd

expressed.

For ten minutes that day I talked about what it was

like to grow up without arms and legs. I told sad

stories and funny stories too. I didn't want to seem

like a victim, so I talked about my victories. Since this

was a Christian group, I did say that there had been

times when I felt God had forgotten me, or that I'd

been one of His rare mistakes. Then I explained how

I'd gradually come to understand that maybe there

was a plan for me that I just hadn't figured out yet.

"I'm slowly learning to have more faith that I wasn't

a mistake," I said, trying to get a laugh.

In truth, I was so relieved to get through my talk that

I felt like crying. To my amazement, most of the kids

in the room were crying instead.

"Was I that bad?" I asked Mr. Arnold.

"No, Nick," he said. "You were that good."

At first I thought he was just being nice and the kids

in the group were pretending to be moved by my

speech. They were Christians, after all. They were

supposed to be nice.

But then one of the guys in the group invited me to

speak to his church youth group. Then another

invitation came from another kid for his Sunday

school class. Over the next two years, I received

dozens of invitations to share my story to church

groups, youth organizations, and service clubs.

I had avoided Christian groups in high school

because I didn't want to be labeled as the do-gooder

preacher's kid who was all about religion. I acted

tough and sometimes cursed so I could be accepted

as a regular guy. The truth was that I had not yet

accepted myself.

Obviously, God has a sense of humor. He wrangled

me into speaking to just the group I had avoided, and

it was there that He revealed my purpose in life. He

showed me that even if I was not perfect, I had riches

to share, blessings to lighten the burdens of others.

The same holds true for you. We share our

imperfection. We need to share the beautiful gifts

we've been given. Look inside. There is a light inside

you just waiting to shine.

CHAPTER FIVE

Attitude Is Altitude

When I created a company to handle my corporate

speaking engagements, I named it Attitude Is Altitude

because without a positive attitude I never would

have been able to rise above my disabilities and

reach so many people.

You may be tempted to scoff at the concept of

"attitude adjustment" because it has become such a

staple of motivational posters and coaching

materials. But there is real power in controlling your

attitude, adjusting it to counter moods and stop

behaviors that may threaten your ability to live

without limits. The psychologist and philosopher

William James, who taught at Harvard University,

said that one of the greatest discoveries of his

generation was the realization that by changing our

attitudes, we can change our lives.

Whether you are aware of it or not, you view the

world through your own unique perspectives or

attitudes based on your beliefs of what is good or

bad, wrong or right, fair or unfair. Your decisions

and actions are based on those attitudes, so if what

you've been doing isn't working, you have the power

to adjust your attitude and change your life.

Think of your attitude as the remote control for your

television set. If the program you are watching

doesn't do anything for you, then you simply grab the

remote and change it. You can adjust your attitude in

much the same way when you aren't getting the

results you want, no matter what challenges you

encounter.

Linda, a music teacher, wrote and described how her

amazing attitude helped her overcome a childhood

accident that easily could have ruined her life. She

was only halfway through grade school when she

was severely injured in a car accident. Linda spent

two and a half days in a coma, and when she

regained consciousness, she could not walk, talk, or

eat.

Although doctors feared she would be mentally

impaired and never able to speak or walk normally,

her mind, speech, and body gradually recovered. In

fact, Linda's only remaining medical problem from

the horrible accident is a damaged right eye that has

only limited vision.

This woman suffered incredible pain, endured many

operations, and still has impaired eyesight. She could

easily feel victimized and bitter. You could hardly

blame her for taking the attitude that life has treated

her unfairly. Instead, this is the attitude she chose:

"Sometimes I am frustrated that my eyes don't work

in perfect unity with each other," she wrote to me.

"But then I remember where I came from and where

I could be, and realize God saved me for a reason—to

live as a witness to His work in my life. My eye is a

reminder from God that I'm not perfect, but that's

okay I need to depend fully on Him for my strength.

God chose to show His power through the weakness

of my eye—though I am weak, He is strong."

Linda chose to accept her imperfect vision as part of

God's "perfect plan for my life," she wrote. "He changed my attitude toward life-—I know that mine

may very well end at any moment, so I'm trying to

live for Him all the time. Also, I try to always put a

positive spin on everything, try to give my all to God

and others, and truly care about the people around

me."

Instead of focusing on her limited vision in one eye,

Linda chooses to be grateful that she is able to think,

speak, walk, and live a normal life in most ways. You

and I have the ability to choose our attitudes just as

she chose hers.

You don't have to be a saint to do that. When you

experience a tragedy or a personal crisis, it's

perfectly normal and probably healthy to go through

stages of fear and anger and sadness, hurt at some

point we all have to say: "I'm still here. Do I want to

spend the rest of my life wallowing in misery, or do I

want to rise above what has happened to me and

pursue my dreams?"

Is it easy to do that? No, it is not. It takes great

determination, not to mention a sense of purpose,

hope, faith, and the belief that you have talents and

skills to share. But Linda is just one example of many,

many people who've shown what it's possible to

overcome with a positive attitude. The age-old, time-

proven, undeniable truth is that you and I may have

absolutely no control over what happens to us, but

we can control how we respond. If we choose the

right attitude, we can rise above whatever challenges

we face.

You likely will have no control over the next big bad

bump in your life. A hurricane hits your house. A

drunk driver crashes into your car. Your employer

lays you off. Your significant other says, "I need

space." We are all blindsided from time to time. Be

sad, feel bad, but then pull yourself up and ask,

What's next?. Once you've whimpered awhile,

vented, or shed all the tears in your tank, pull

yourself together and make an attitude adjustment.

POWERING UP

You can change your attitude and change your life

without taking a pill, seeing a shrink, or trekking to a

mountaintop to consult a guru. So far in this book

I've been encouraging you to find your purpose, to

have hope for the future and faith in the possibilities

for your life, and to love yourself as you are. Those

attributes will give you a strong foundation and

reason for optimism, which is the power source for

adjusting your attitude, much like the batteries in

your television remote control.

Have you ever known a successful, fulfilled, happy

person who is also a pessimist? I haven't. That's

because optimism is empowering—it gives you

control over your emotions. Pessimism weakens

your will and allows your moods to control your

actions. With an optimistic outlook, you can adjust

your attitude to make the best of bad situations. This

is sometimes described as "refraining" because while

you can't always change your circumstances, you can

change the way you look at them.

At first, you may have to do this consciously, but once

you practice it for a while, it becomes automatic. I

am on tour constantly with my caregivers, and in the

early days of my speaking career, when a flight was

canceled or a connection missed, I had trouble

controlling my anger and frustration. Finally I had to

face the fact that when you travel as often as we do,

there will be problems. Besides, I was getting too old

to throw tantrums, and they sort of lose their

effectiveness when you can't really stomp your feet.

I had to master the ability to adjust my attitude about

travel interruptions. Now when we are forced to sit

for hours in airports or need to abruptly change

plans, I avoid stress, frustration, and anger by

focusing on a positive interpretation of the negative

event. I fire up optimistic thoughts such as: Our flight

was delayed because of bad weather. That's good,

because we'll have a safer trip if we wait out the

storm.

Or: They canceled our flight because of mechanical

problems. I'd rather wait here on the ground for a

good plane than be up in the air in a bad one.

I'd still rather have a smooth trip than a bumpy one,

but the alternative to adjusting my attitude was to

dwell on the negative, and that's just not healthy.

When you allow circumstances beyond your control

to determine your attitude and actions, you risk

plunging into a downward spiral of hasty decisions

and faulty judgments, to overreacting, giving up too

soon, and missing those opportunities that always—

always—appear just when you think life will never

get better.

Pessimism and negativity will ensure that you never

rise above your circumstances. When you feel your

blood boiling due to negative thoughts, tune them

out and replace them with more positive and

encouraging inner dialogue. Here are examples of

negative versus positive thinking to help you monitor

your own inner voices.

NEGATIVE

POSITIVE

I will never get over this. This too will pass.

I can't take this anymore. I got this far. Better days are ahead.

NEGATIVE

POSITIVE

This is the worst I've ever Some days are harder

than had it.

others.

I'll never find another job. One door is dosed, but

another will open.

A HEALING ATTITUDE

My friend Chuck, who is forty years old, learned last

year that the cancer he'd fought off twice while in his

twenties had reappeared. This time the tumor was so

wrapped around vital organs that doctors could not

go after it with radiation. The prognosis did not look

good—in fact, he was in serious trouble. As a

husband and father with a huge circle of family and

friends, Chuck had purpose. He also had hope, faith,

and self-love working for him. So he adopted the

attitude that he was not about to die. In fact, he took

on the attitude that while there was sickness inside

him, he was not a sick person. He was determined to

remain upbeat and positive and focused on moving

ahead with his life.

At this point, no one would have described Chuck as

a lucky guy, right? Yet the very fact that radiation

was not an option turned out to be good luck. You

see, Chuck's doctors in St. Louis were taking part in a

testing program for an experimental cancer drug

that does not use radiation. Instead, this drug targets

individual cancer cells and kills them. Since

traditional treatments were not suitable for Chuck's

tumor, he was eligible for the experimental

treatments, but what convinced doctors that he

should be in the program was his positive attitude.

They knew he would make the most of this

opportunity, and he did.

While the experimental cancer drug was being

injected in his system through an IV tube, Chuck

didn't take it lying down. Instead, he ran on a

treadmill. He lifted weights. His attitude was so

positive and his energy so high, Chuck had trouble

convincing some of the hospital staff that he really

belonged on the cancer treatment floor. "You just

don't look or act like our normal patient," they said.

A few weeks after receiving his experimental

treatments, Chuck met with his doctor. The doctor

told him that something strange had happened. "I

can't find any sign of the tumor," he said. "It's gone."

Doctors couldn't say whether it was the experimental

drug, or Chuck's attitude, or a miracle, or a

combination of all three that defeated the tumor. All

I can tell you is that Chuck walked out of that

hospital free of cancer and strong as a bull. Despite

all indications that he was facing death, he chose a

positive attitude and focused not on being sick but on

his purpose, on hope, on faith, and on the conviction

that he could be of benefit to others.

PICK A 'TUDE

Notice that Chuck and Linda both chose attitudes

that allowed them to rise above difficult circum-

stances, but they chose slightly different types of

attitudes. Linda chose to be grateful rather than

bitter. Chuck chose to take action rather than giving

up. There are many attitudes to choose from, but I

believe the most powerful are:

1. An attitude of gratitude

2. An attitude of action

3. An attitude of empathy

4. An attitude of forgiveness

1. An Attitude of Gratitude

This is the attitude that Linda unleashed to deal with

her injuries from the auto crash. Instead of

mourning what she'd lost, she expressed gratitude

for what she'd recovered and the life she'd built. I'm

a big believer in the power of gratitude. In my

speaking I often refer to my little left foot. I do that to

put my audiences at ease because they can see my

unusual appendage. I joke about it, but I have

learned to be very grateful for it. I use it to control

my wheelchair joystick, to type on a computer at

more than forty words a minute, to play music on my

keyboards and digital drum set, and to operate all

the applications on my cell phone.

The attitude of gratitude also attracts people who

share your enthusiasm and support your dreams.

Sometimes these people have the power to inspire

you and to change your life in amazing ways. My

mum often read to me as a child, and one of my

favorite books was The God I Love. I was about six

years old when she first read it to me. At that time I

didn't know of any other person born without arms

and legs. I had no role models who looked like me

and had the same challenges. This book, which I still

think of often, inspired me and helped build the

foundation for an attitude of gratitude because it was

written by Joni Eareckson Tada.

Joni (pronounced Johnny) was an athletic seventeen-

year-old swimmer and equestrian from Maryland

who was just a few weeks away from her first

semester of college when she broke her neck while

diving into a lake. She was paralyzed from the neck

down in that 1967 accident. In her book she wrote

about her initial despair and thoughts of suicide

because of her paralysis, but eventually she came to

believe that "it wasn't some flip of the coin in the

cosmos, some turn in the universe's roulette wheel. It

was part of God's plan for me."

I loved that book, and then my mum bought a CD of

Joni's songs, which were the first I'd ever heard with

lyrics about how "we've all got wheels" and how

much fun you could have in a wheelchair and how

"nobody's perfect." I played those tapes over and

over as a child in Australia, and I still catch myself

humming them today. You can imagine how amazing

it was when I was invited to meet Joni for the first

time.

I was visiting the United States in 2003 to speak at a

church in California. After my talk a young woman

who worked for Joni introduced herself and invited

me to come to the headquarters for her charitable

organization, Joni and Friends, in Agoura Hills.

During my visit I was star-struck when she came into

the room. She leaned in to give me a hug, and we had

this great moment. Joni doesn't have much body

strength because of her quadriplegia, so when she

leaned in to me she had trouble pulling her body

back into her wheelchair. Instinctively, I used my

body to give her a gentle push backward into her

chair.

"You're very strong!" she said.

I was thrilled to hear that, of course. This amazing

woman who had given me strength and faith and

hope as a child was telling me that I was strong. Joni

shared that, like me, she struggled with her disability

at first. She considered driving her wheelchair off a

high bridge but worried that she would only injure

her brain and make her life even more miserable.

Finally, she prayed, God, if I can't die, show me how

to live.

Shortly after that accident, a friend gave Joni a copy

of a Bible verse that says, "In everything give thanks,

for this is the will of God and Christ Jesus concerning

you." Joni was not deeply religious at the time. She

was still angry and frustrated over her paralysis and

she wasn't buying that message.

"You can't be serious," Joni said. "I don't feel thankful for this. No way."

Her friend told her that she didn't have to feel

thankful for being paralyzed. All she had to do was to

take a leap of faith and give thanks for the blessings

to come.

It was hard for Joni to buy into that concept. At that

point she felt like a victim, and that's what she called

herself, "a victim of a terrible diving accident." At first she blamed everyone but herself for her

quadriplegia, and she wanted everyone to pay. She

sued. She demanded. She even blamed her parents

for bringing her into a world in which she could

become paralyzed.

Joni felt the world owed her something because she'd

lost the use of her arms and legs. She eventually

came to realize that victimhood is an easy place to

hide. We can all claim to be the victims of one

misfortune or another. Some people feel like victims

because they were born into poverty. Others claim to

be victims because their parents are divorced, or

they have poor health, or bad jobs, or they aren't as

thin or as tall or as beautiful as they want to be.

When we feel entitled to the good in life, we feel

robbed and outraged when something happens to

make us uncomfortable. We then look to blame

others and demand that they pay for our discomfort,

whatever it might be. In a self-centered state of mind,

we become professional victims. Yet pity parties are

the most tedious, unproductive, and unrewarding

events you could ever attend. You can only listen to

"Poor, Poor Pitiful Me" so many times before you

want to tear your hair out and run for cover.

Like Joni, you should reject the victim role because

there is no future in it. She says that suffering brings

us to a fork in the road, and we can choose the

downward path to despair or we can take the

hopeful path up the hill by adopting an attitude of

gratitude. You may find it difficult at first to be

grateful, but if you just decide not to be a victim and

take it day by day, strength will come. If you can't

find any aspect of your situation to be grateful for,

then focus on good days ahead and express gratitude

in advance. This will help build a sense of optimism

while getting your mind off the past and looking

toward the future.

"I realized that the path away from self-destruction

was traced somewhere in the pages of the Bible; and

it didn't take long to discover that well worn truth:

'Take one day at a time in the strength of God and

you will become more than a conqueror," Joni told

me.

Joni discovered that playing the victim only dragged

her down further than her paralysis had taken her,

but being thankful for the blessings you have and the

blessings to come raises you up. That attitude can

change your life just as it has changed Joni's and

mine. Instead of being angry and resentful over our

disabilities, we've built joyful and fulfilling lives.

An attitude of gratitude truly changed her life, and

she in turn helped change my life and the lives of so

many others who have been helped by her best-

selling inspirational books and DVDs. Her Joni and

Friends nonprofit organization operates Wheels for

the World, a program that has distributed more than

sixty thousand free wheelchairs, not to mention

thousands of crutches, canes, and walkers, to

disabled people in 102 countries.

Joni is a quadriplegic. I have no arms and no legs. Yet

we each found a purpose and pursued it. We

embraced hope over despair. We put our faith in God

and the future. We accepted that we are imperfect

human beings with blessings of value. We chose

positive attitudes fueled with gratitude, and we put

them into action to change our lives and the lives of

others.

That's not a poster—it's the truth. By choosing an

attitude of gratitude over one of victimhood or

bitterness or despair, you too can overcome

whatever challenges you face. But if you find

gratitude hard to come by, there are other

approaches that might work for you.

2. An Attitude Of Action

Tabitha has disabilities similar to mine, yet she

wrote, "I've always felt blessed and because of this I

needed to give back to the universe." Her attitude of

action led her and her family to start their own

mission to create "goody bags" for children with

major illnesses and disabilities and for those living in

homeless shelters.

Sometimes the best method you'll find for moving

your life out of a rut or over an obstacle is to make

life better for yourself or for others. Socrates said,

"Let him that would move the world, move himself

first." When it seems like you can't catch a break, try

creating your own. When you've been hit and

knocked down by an overwhelming loss or tragedy,

allow yourself time to grieve, and then act to create

some good out of the bad.

Adopting an attitude of action creates positive

momentum. The first steps are the hardest, no doubt

about it. Just getting up out of bed may seem

impossible at first, but once you are up, you can

move forward, and as long as you are moving

forward, you are on a path away from the past and

toward the future. Go with that. Move ahead step by

step. If you've lost someone or something, help

someone else or build something else to serve as a

memorial and tribute.

One of the most devastating experiences is the loss of

a loved one. Losing a family member or a friend

triggers grief that can cripple us. Other than perhaps

being glad for having loved them and known them

and had time with them, there is little to be grateful

for in such situations. Nothing prepares us for the

grief that can overwhelm and even paralyze us. Still,

some take action so that their terrible loss becomes a

force for good. A well-known example is Candy

Lightner, who channeled her anger and anguish into

action after her thirteen-year-old daughter was killed

by a drunk driver. She founded Mothers Against

Drunk Driving (MADD), which undoubtedly has

saved many lives through its activism and education

programs.

When tragedies strike us or those we love, the

temptation is to go off somewhere and cry, hoping

that eventually the heartbreak will ease one day. Yet

many people like Tabitha, Joni Eareckson Tada, and

Candy Lightner have taken attitudes of action. They

believe that even the worst tragedy in their lives can

provide opportunities for good deeds. An incredible

example of this sort of person is Carson Leslie in

Dallas. He was sixteen years old when I met him, but

he had been battling cancer for two years already.

This young slat athlete with a brilliant smile, whose

dream had been to play shortstop for the New York

Yankees, was just fourteen when he was diagnosed

with a brain tumor that had spread to his spine. He

underwent surgeries, radiation, and chemotherapy.

His cancer went into remission. Then it came back.

Through it all Carson did his best to be a normal kid,

living a normal life. He often spoke of his favorite

Bible verse, which someone had given him just after

he was diagnosed. It's Joshua 1:9: "Have I not

commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not

be in terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord

your God will be with you wherever you go."

Carson was quick to say that this Bible verse was not

his "cancer verse" but his "life verse."

"No matter how long I live, I want this verse on my

tombstone. And when people visit my grave, I want

them to read the verse and think about how it got me

through my struggles in life, and I hope others will

see that this verse can offer them the same kind of

comfort it gives me," Carson wrote in his book, ' Carry Me.'

This incredibly brave boy wrote the book with his

English teacher to "give a voice to the teenagers and

children who have cancer but are unable to express

how such an illness affects their personal, social,

physical and emotional life." Carson died on January

12, 2010, just as his book was being released.

Proceeds go to the Carson Leslie Foundation in

support of pediatric cancer research.

How unselfish this young man was. Though he was

sick and weary, he spent his final days working on a

book to encourage and benefit others. I love too that

the final words in his book are these: "None of us

know what life has in store . . . but it's easy to have

courage when you know the courage comes from

God."

I met Carson through Dallas jeweler Bill Noble, a

man of deep faith who has often invited me to speak

to his church congregation and other groups. Bill's

children went to school with Carson, and he brought

us together. He called us both "generals in the

Kingdom of God."

Aside from teasing me about being "disarming," Bill

often stresses the importance of leaving a legacy and

making every second count just as Carson did, even

at such a young age. Bill used to tell Carson some-

thing he'd also told me many times. "God does not

define man by his earthly body. As it says in John

6:63: 'The Spirit gives life; the flesh counts for

nothing. The words I have spoken to you are spirit

and they are life.'"

3. An Attitude Of Empathy

If an attitude of action seems beyond your ability,

there is yet another option, one that comes from the

heart. As I grew more mature and my range of

experience expanded, I realized that one of the key

factors leading to my thoughts of suicide as a boy was

the fact that I was terribly self-centered. I actually

believed that no one suffered the emotional pain and

physical frustration that I did. My focus was entirely

on my own circumstances.

My attitude improved considerably when I grew up a

little and realized that many have challenges equal to

and greater than my own. When I acknowledged

that, I began to reach out to offer encouragement to

others with far more empathy. The young daughter

of a family friend provided me with a very moving

display of empathy on a visit to Australia in 2009. I'd

never met the girl, who was only two and a half

years old. They'd brought her to a party, and for the

longest time she kept her distance, studying me from

afar as small children often do. Then, as her parents

were preparing to leave, I asked this beautiful child if

she wanted to give me a hug.

She smiled and cautiously stepped toward me. Just as

she came close enough, she stopped, looked me in

the eye, and slowly folded her arms behind her back

as if to show solidarity with my lack of limbs. Then

she inched forward a little more and placed her head

on my shoulder, hugging me with her neck just as

she'd seen me hug others. Everyone in the room was

struck by this little girl's incredible display of

empathy for me. I've been hugged many times, but I

can honestly say I'll never forget that hug, because

this tiny child obviously has an amazing gift for

relating to the feelings of others. Empathy is a great

gift. I encourage you to practice and share it at every

opportunity because it heals those who give, as well

as those who receive. When you are confronted with

hard times, tragedies, oi challenges, instead of

looking inward, look to those around you. Instead of

feeling wounded and seeking pity, find someone with

greater wounds and help them heal. Understand that

your grief or pain is legitimate, but suffering is part

of the human condition, and reaching out to

someone else is a way of healing yourself while

helping others heal too.

My friend Gabe Murfitt understands this as well as

anybody I know. We met when I spoke at the

Gather4Him fund raising dinner in Richland,

Washington, in 2009. Gabe was born with malformed

legs and arms that are just three inches long. His

thumbs have no bones in them, and he has a hearing

impairment. Somehow, he still manages to be

extremely active, playing baseball, basketball, and

hockey, jumping rope, and banging away on the

drums, among other things.

Gabe, who grew up near Seattle, has an indomitable

spirit as well as great empathy. Now a college student

at Washington State University, he began playing

Little League baseball at the age of six. He once

climbed Mount Rainier with a group of friends and

family members supporting him. Though he had his

own challenges in high school, he began reaching out

to other students to inspire them by giving his

"CLEAR" speeches on courage, leadership, excellence,

attitude, and respect. He and his family created a

nonprofit organization to help others with

disabilities. Gabriel's Foundation of HOPE

(http://www.GabesHope.org) provides scholarships

and grants as well as encouragement as a result of

Gabe's amazing empathy.

Do you see the power in Gabe's attitude of empathy?

He took the focus off his challenge and reached out

to others. He transformed the challenge of his

disabilities into a mission of empathy, enriching his

life and those of countless others.

I often am amazed at the way people react to me

when I journey into regions of stark poverty and

great suffering. I always find men, women, and

children who have incredible compassion. Not long

ago I was in Cambodia, rushing to get back to my

hotel after a long meeting in stifling heat and

humidity that made me feel faint. I just wanted to

take a shower and sleep for a day or two in an air-

conditioned room.

"Nick, before we go, would you mind speaking with

this child?" my host said. "He has been waiting

outside for you all day."

The boy, smaller than me, was alone, sitting in the

dirt. Flies swarmed about him in such numbers that

they formed a dark cloud. He had a gaping and deep

wound or sore on his head. One of his eyes appeared

to be popping out. He smelled of decay and filth. Yet

there was such compassion in his eyes, so much love

and sympathy—for me—that this child put me

completely at ease.

He walked up close to me in my stroller chair and

gently put his head against my cheek, trying to

soothe me. This boy looked as though he hadn't eaten

for days. He appeared to be an orphan who'd

suffered greatly. Yet he wanted to express his

empathy for what he imagined was my suffering. I

was so touched by him that tears flowed.

I asked our hosts if there was anything we could do

for this boy, and they promised me that they would

see that he was fed, cared for, and given a place to

sleep, but after thanking him and returning to our

vehicle, I honestly could not stop crying. I could not

think straight for the rest of the day. I could not get

over the fact that here was this boy whom I'd felt

sorry for, but he wasn't focused on his suffering.

Instead, he had compassion for me.

I don't know what that child had gone through or

how difficult his life was. But I can tell you this: his

attitude was amazing because despite all his

problems, he still had the ability to reach out and

comfort others. What a gift to have such empathy

and compassion!

When you feel victimized or self-pitying, I encourage

you to adjust your attitude to one of empathy. Reach

out to someone else in need. Offer a hand.

Volunteer at a shelter. Serve as a guide or a mentor.

Use your grief or anger or hurt to help you better

understand and ease the pain of someone else.

4. An Attitude of Forgiveness

The fourth attitude you should consider when

looking to increase your altitude is an attitude of

forgiveness. This may be the best of all, yet it is also

the most difficult to learn. Believe me, I know. As I've

told you, for a time in my childhood I could not

forgive God for what seemed a gross mistake, my

lack of limbs. I was angry and in full blame mode.

Forgiveness was not on my screen.

Like me, you will have to go through a period of

anger and resentment to get to forgiveness. That's

natural, but you don't want to hang on to those

emotions too long because after a while you only

hurt yourself by allowing them to boil within your

heart.

Anger was not designed to be an around-the-clock

emotion. Like your car, your body breaks down if

you keep the engine racing too long. Medical

research has shown that harboring anger and resent-

ment for long periods causes physical and

psychological stress that weakens your immune

system and breaks down your vital organs. And

there's another problem with the blame game. As

long as my lack of arms and legs was someone else's

fault, I didn't have to take responsibility for my own

future. Once I made a conscious decision to forgive

God and my doctors and move on with my life, I felt

better physically and emotionally, and I felt my time

had come to take responsibility for the rest of my life.

An attitude of forgiveness set me free. You see, when

you hold on to old hurts, you only give power and

control to those who hurt you, but when you forgive

them, you cut the ties to them. They can no longer

yank on your chain. Don't get hung up on thinking

that by forgiving them you are doing them a favor; if

nothing else, do it for yourself.

I forgave all of those kids who mocked and teased

me. I didn't forgive them to absolve them of guilt. I

forgave them to unburden myself of anger and

resentment. I like myself. I wanted me to be free.

So don't worry about what your forgiveness does for

the antagonizes and hurtful people in your past. Just

enjoy what forgiving them does for you. Once you've

adopted an attitude of forgiveness, you'll lighten your

load so that you can chase your dreams without

being weighed down by baggage from the past.

The power in forgiveness goes beyond healing

yourself. When Nelson Mandela forgave those who

imprisoned him for twenty-seven years, the power of

his attitude changed an entire nation and had a

ripple effect around the world.

This power was unleashed on a smaller scale in the

former Soviet Union. When I was in Ukraine, I met a

pastor who'd moved his family to Russia to start a

church in an area plagued by violence. As word of

the pastor's plans spread around town, gangsters

issued threats toward him and his five sons, so the

pastor prayed.

"God told me that I would pay a steep cost for

planting my church there, but that something

amazing would result too," he said.

Despite the threats, the pastor established his church.

At first few people came to his services. Then, just a

week after the pastor opened the doors, one of his

sons was murdered on the street. The grieving pastor

prayed again, asking for God's guidance. God told

him to stay with his church. Three months after his

son's death, the pastor himself was stopped on the

street by a scary-looking guy who said, "Would you

like to meet the person who killed your son?"

"No," said the pastor.

"Are you sure?" the man said. "What if he asked your forgiveness?"

"I've already forgiven him," the pastor said.

"I shot your son," the man said, breaking down. "And I want to join your church."

In the weeks that followed, so many other members

of the Russian mob joined the pastor's church that

crime all but disappeared i n the area. That is the

power of forgiveness. When you have a forgiving

attitude, you put into motion all sorts of amazing

energy. And remember, this attitude allows you also

to forgive yourself. As a Christian, I know that God

forgives those who seek his favor, but too often we

refuse to forgive ourselves for past mistakes, wrong

turns, and abandoned dreams.

Self-forgiveness is just as important as forgiving

others. I've made mistakes. So have you. We've

treated people badly. We've judged them unfairly.

We all mess up. The key is to step back, admit you've

fallen short, apologize to the injured parties, make a

promise to do better, forgive yourself, and move

forward.

Now that's an attitude you can live with!

The Bible tells us that we reap what we sow. If you

are bitter, angry, self-pitying, and unforgiving, what

do you think those attitudes will get you? What joy is

there in a life like that? So reject those dark and

pessimistic moods, load up on optimism, and charge

up an attitude of gratitude, an attitude of action, an

attitude of empathy, or an attitude of forgiveness.

I have experienced the power of changing my

attitude, and I can tell you that it changed my life,

taking me to heights I never imagined. It can do the

same for you!

CHAPTER SIX

Armless But Not Harmless

My first and only playground fight was with Chucky,

the biggest bully in my grade school. His real name

wasn't Chucky, but he had fiery orange hair, freckles,

and big ears like the teen-horror-movie Chucky, so I'll

call him that to protect the guilty.

Chucky was the first person to put serious fear in my

heart. We all deal with fears throughout our lives,

both real and imagined. Nelson Mandela said the

brave man is not the one who feels fear but the one

who conquers it. I certainly felt fear when Chucky

tried to knock my block off, but conquering it was

another matter.

You couldn't have convinced me of it back then, but

your fears and mine are really a gift. Our most basic

fears, such as the fear of fire, fear of falling, and the

fear of roaring beasts, are hardwired into us as

survival tools. So be glad for those fears and own

them, but don't let them own you.

Too much fear is not good. Too often our fears of

failing or being disappointed or being rejected

paralyze us. Rather than face those fears, we

surrender to them and limit ourselves.

Don't let fear keep you from chasing your dreams.

You should treat fear like you treat your smoke

detector. Pay attention to it when it goes off—look

around and see if there is real danger or just the

alarm ringing. If there is no real threat, put fear out

of your mind and go on with your life.

Chucky, my grade-school tormentor, taught me to

conquer my fear and move on, but only after the first

and last fight of my childhood. I was friends with

almost everyone in my school, even the tough kids.

Chucky, though, was straight out of the bully factory.

He was an insecure kid always on the prowl for

someone to pick on. He was bigger than me, but then

so was everyone else in the school.

I wasn't exactly a threat to anyone. I was a mere first

grader, all of twenty-two pounds, and in a

wheelchair. Chucky was a couple years older and a

giant compared to me.

"I bet you can't fight," he said one day during

morning recess. My friends were there, so I put on a

brave face, but I remember thinking: I'm in my

wheelchair, and he's still twice as tall as me. This is

not a promising situation.

"Bet ya I can" was the best response I could come up

with.

It wasn't like I had a lot of experience with fighting. I

was from a strong Christian family. I'd been taught

that violence was not the answer, but I wasn't a

wimp. I'd done a lot of wrestling with my brother

and cousins. My little brother still talks about my

best wrestling move. Before Aaron grew to be much

bigger and taller than me, I could roll him around on

the floor and then pin his arm down with my chin.

"You could almost break my arm off with that strong

chin of yours," he says. "But then when I got older

and bigger, all I had to do was push my hand against

your forehead and you couldn't get near me."

That was the problem that I faced with Chucky. I

wasn't afraid to fight him, I just didn't know how to

get the job done. Every fight I'd seen on television or

at the movies involved someone punching or kicking

someone else. I lacked the essential hardware for

both those moves.

None of this seemed to put off Chucky. "If you can

fight, prove it!" he said.

"Okay, meet me on the Oval at lunchtime," I snarled.

"Done," Chucky said. "You'd better be there."

The Oval was an egg-shaped patch of concrete in the

middle of our grass and dirt playground. Fighting

there was like fighting in the center ring of our

school circus. The Oval was our main stage. What

happened in the Oval didn't stay in the Oval. If I got

whupped in the Oval, I'd never live it down.

All through the morning's spelling, geography, and

math classes I fretted about my lunchtime

appointment with the school bully. It didn't help that

word had spread throughout the school that I was

taking on Chucky. Everybody wanted to know my

plan of attack. I had no clue.

I kept envisioning Chucky punching my lights out. I

prayed that some teacher would find out and stop

the fight before we started. No such luck.

The dreaded hour arrived. The lunch bell sounded.

My posse gathered around my wheelchair, and we

rolled to the Oval in silence. Half the school was

there. Some brought their lunches. A few were

taking bets.

As you might guess, I was the decided underdog in

the early betting.

"You ready to fight?" said Chucky.

I nodded yes, but I had no idea how this would go

down.

Chucky wasn't so sure either. "Uh, how we gonna do

this?" he asked.

"I don't know," I said.

"You gotta get out of your wheelchair," he demanded.

"It isn't fair with you in the wheelchair."

Apparently Chucky feared a hit and run. This gave

me a negotiating point. Fighting was not my cup of

tea, but I was already a good negotiator.

"If I get out of this chair, you have to get on your

knees," I said.

Chucky was being razzed about picking on a kid in a

wheelchair. He went along with my counter-demand.

My stocky foe dropped to his knees, and I hopped out

of my chair, ready for my big Crocodile Dundee

moment—if only I could figure out how to go about

fighting without fists.

I mean, they don't call it a "shoulder fight," do they?

The lunchtime crowd ringed around us as Chucky

and I circled each other. I was still thinking that he

wouldn't possibly go through with it. Who would be

so low as to hit a little kid with no arms and no legs?

Girls in my class were crying, "Nicky, don't do it. He'll

hurt you."

That got to me. I didn't want girl pity. My macho

pride kicked in. I walked right up to Chucky like I

knew I could kick his butt.

He gave me a double stiff arm to the chest, and I

went backward arse over earlobes, flopping onto the

concrete like a sack of potatoes.

Chucky had gobsmacked me! I'd never been knocked

down like that. It hurt! But the embarrassment was

far worse. My schoolmates huddled over me,

horrified. Girls cried out, shielding their eyes from

what they thought was a pitiful sight.

This bloke is really trying to hurt me, I realized. I

flipped over and pressed my forehead to the ground.

Then I leveraged a shoulder against my wheelchair

to get myself upright. This technique made for a

calloused forehead and a very strong neck, qualities

that would soon spell Chucky's downfall.

I had no doubt: Chucky had no qualms about kicking

my butt. It was fight or flight, and flight wasn't a

realistic option.

I charged Chucky again, with a bit more speed

behind me this time. Three hops, and I was right in

front of him. But before I could think what to do

next, Chucky nailed me with a straight arm. Just one

arm bam to the chest, and I slammed to the ground. I

even bounced once. Okay, maybe twice.

My head conked on the hard-hearted Oval. The

world faded to black. A shrieking girl quickly

brought me back to my senses.

I prayed for the teacher cavalry. Why can you never

find an assistant principal when you need one?

Finally my vision cleared, and there was the evil

Chucky hovering over me. The fat-faced mongrel was

doing a victory dance.

That does it. I'm laying this bloke out!

I flipped onto my stomach, planted my forehead, and

raised myself up for a final charge. My adrenaline

was pumping. This time I galloped at him as fast as I

could go, which was a lot faster than Chucky had

anticipated.

He'd started to backpedal on his knees. I took a flying

leap, using my left foot to launch myself like a human

missile. My flying head butted Chucky smack in the

nose. He went down. I landed on top of him and

rolled.

When I looked up, Chucky was sprawled on the

ground, holding his nose and bawling

uncontrollably.

Instead of feeling victorious, I was overcome by guilt.

The pastor's son begged for forgiveness: "I'm so sorry,

are you okay?"

"Look, Chucky's bleeding!" a girl cried.

No way, I thought.

But sure enough, blood from Chucky's nose was

leaking through his pudgy fingers. He took his hand

away, and it poured down his face and stained his

shirt in bright red.

Half the crowd was cheering. The other half was

mortified—for Chucky. After all, he'd just been beat

up by a shrimp with no arms or legs. He would never

live this down. Chucky's bullying days were over. He

pinched his nose with his fingers and scurried into

the bathroom.

Honestly, I never saw him again. He must have quit

school in shame. Chucky, if you are out there, I'm

sorry, and I hope you have had a good post-bully life.

I was proud of sticking up for myself but burdened

by guilt. After school I went home and confessed to

my parents as soon as I walked in the door. I was

dreading a severe punishment. But I had no need to

be worried. Dad and mum didn't believe me! They

simply did not think it possible that I'd beaten up a

bigger, older, and fully-equipped bloke!

I didn't try to convince them otherwise.

As much as people enjoy hearing this story and as

funny as certain aspects of it are, I have mixed

feelings about even telling it, since I don't advocate

violence. I believe meekness is strength withheld. I'll

always remember my first—and only—fight because

I discovered that when push came to shove, I could

overcome my fears. At that age especially, it felt good

to know that I had the strength to defend myself. I

guess you could say I learned that I could afford to be

meek because I had tapped the strength inside me.

NO ARMS, NO LEGS, NO FEAR

You may have a strong sense of purpose, great hope

for the possibilities in your life, faith in your future,

an appreciation for your own value, and even a great

attitude, but fear can hold you back from achieving

your dreams. There are many handicaps worse than

having no arms and no legs—fear can be especially

debilitating. You cannot live a fulfilling life that fully

expresses your blessings if fear controls your every

decision.

Fear will hold you back and keep you from being

who you want to be. But fear is just a mood, a feeling

—it's not real! How often have you feared something

—a trip to the dentist, a job interview, an operation,

or a test in school—only to discover that the actual

experience was not nearly as bad as you had

imagined?

I thought I would get creamed in my first-grade fight

with Chucky-boy, but look how that turned out! All

too often adults revert back to childish fears. They go

back to acting like kids frightened at night because

they imagine that the tree limb scraping the

bedroom window is actually a monster trying to eat

them up.

I've seen fear absolutely paralyze otherwise normal

people. I'm not referring to scary movie fears or

childhood tears of bumps in the night. So many

people are handicapped by fear of failure, fear of

making mistakes, fear of making a commitment,

even fear of success. It's inevitable that fears will

come knocking on your door. You don't have to let

them in. You send them on their way, and then go on

yours. You have that choice.

Psychologists say most fears are learned. We are

born with only two instinctive fears: fear of loud

noises and fear of being dropped. I had a fear of

being mauled by Chucky back in the first grade, but I

got over it. I decided that I wasn't going to wait until I

felt brave—I just acted brave, and in the end I was

brave!

Even as adults we create fearful fantasies that simply

don't match up to reality. This explains why fear is

often described as "False Evidence Appearing Real."

We become so focused on our fears that they become

real to us—and as a result, we let them control us.

It's hard to imagine someone as big and successful as

Michael Jordan being afraid. Yet during his induction

into the NBA Hall of Fame, Jordan talked openly

about how he often used his fears to drive himself to

be a better athlete. At the conclusion of his speech,

he said, "One day you might look up and see me

playing the game at fifty. Oh, don't laugh, don't laugh.

Never say never. Because limits, like fears, are often

just an illusion."

Jordan may have been a better basketball player

than life coach, but he had a point. Follow the Jordan

rules; recognize that fears are not real and soar past

them, or put them to use. The key to dealing with

your worst fears, whether it is fear of flying, fear of

failing, or fear of relationships, is to recognize that

the fear is not real. It is an emotion, and you can

control your response to your emotions.

I had to learn this lesson early in my speaking career.

I was very fearful and nervous. I did not know how

people would respond to what I had to say. I wasn't

sure they'd even listen to me. Fortunately, my first

speaking engagements were to my fellow students.

They knew me, and we were comfortable with each

other. Over time I began speaking to larger youth

groups and churches with only a few friends

sprinkled into the crowd. Gradually I overcame my

nervousness and fears.

I still experience fear when I am called to speak to

many thousands of people, sometimes tens and

hundreds of thousands. I go into remote areas of

China, South America, Africa, and other parts of the

world where I have no idea how people will receive

me. I'm afraid I'll tell a joke that means something

entirely different in their culture and they'll take

offense. I use that fear to remind myself to always

run my speeches by my interpreters and hosts before

I risk embarrassment.

I've learned to welcome my fear as a source of

energy and as a tool to focus my preparations. If I'm

afraid of forgetting my speech or messing something

up, it helps me concentrate on reviewing and

practicing my presentation.

Many fears are useful in that way. For example, it is a

good fear that motivates you to snap on the seat belt

because you don't want to be injured in a car

accident. If your fear of catching a cold or a flu

inspires you to wash your hands and take vitamins,

that's good too.

Too often, though, we allow our learned fears to run

amok. Instead of simply taking precautions to avoid

catching a flu or cold, some people take it to an

extreme by locking themselves in their homes and

refusing to go outdoors. When our fears keep us

from doing all we can do or from being all we can be,

they are not reasonable.

"WHAT IF?" FEARS

I have a friend whose parents divorced when she

was young. Her mum and dad fought all the time,

even after they broke up. Now she is a grown

woman, but she is afraid to get married. "I don't want

to end up like my parents," she says.

Can you imagine never having a lasting relationship

because you are afraid it might not work out? That's

a sick fear! You can't think of marriage as nothing

but the first step to divorce. Remember the Tennyson

poem " 'Tis better to have loved and lost than never

to have loved at all"?

You can't possibly have an enjoyable and fulfilling

life if you are paralyzed by fear of what might

happen someday, somewhere, maybe, somehow. If

we all stayed in our beds every day because we were

afraid of being struck by lightning or bitten by a

malaria mosquito, it would be a pretty sad world,

wouldn't it?

So many fearful people focus on the What if when

they should be saying Why not?

• What if I fail?

• What if I'm not good enough?

• What if they laugh at me?

• What if I'm turned down?

• What if I can't keep up with my successes?

I understand that sort of thinking. Growing up I had

to deal with major fears—the fear of rejection, the

fear of inadequacy, the fear of being dependent. It

wasn't just my imagination: my body lacked the

standard equipment. But my parents told me that I

should always focus not on what was missing but on

what I had and what I could create if I only dared to

follow my imagination.

"Dream big, Nicky, and never let fear keep you from

working toward your dreams," they said. "You can't

let fear dictate your future. Choose the life you want

and go for it."

So far, I've spoken to diverse audiences in more than

nineteen countries around the globe. I've taken my

message of hope and faith to vast crowds in

stadiums, arenas, schools, churches, and prisons. I

never could have done that if my parents had not

encouraged me to acknowledge my fears and then

push past them.

FEAR AS MOTIVATION

You and I will never be as dominant in a sport as

Michael Jordan was, but you can be like Mike in

using fear as a motivational tool to keep chasing your

dreams and the life you want to create.

Laura Gregory was a very smart school friend. I

could always count on her to say exactly what she

was thinking. She did not mess around. One day in

our first year, Laura asked, "So you have a teacher's

aide to help you at school. But who takes care of you

at home?"

"Well, my parents do," I said, though I wasn't certain what she was getting at.

"Are you okay with that?"

"With my parents helping me? Sure, what else would

I do?"

"I mean with things like getting dressed and

showering and using the bathroom?" she said. "What

about your dignity? Don't you think it's a little weird

that you can't do that on your own?"

Laura didn't mean to hurt my feelings. She was a

truth seeker, and she truly wanted to know how I felt

about every aspect of my life. But she touched on a

sensitive subject. One of my greatest fears growing

up was that I was a burden on the people I loved. The

thought of being overly dependent on my parents,

and on my brother and sister too, was never far from

my mind. Sometimes I would wake up at night in a

cold sweat, terrorized by the thought of my parents

being gone, leaving me dependent on Aaron or

Michelle.

That fear was a very real one. Sometimes I was

nearly overwhelmed by visions of dependency.

Laura's blunt questions about my dignity helped

move me from being tormented by that fear to being

motivated by it. Questions about my dependency had

always lingered on the edges of my consciousness,

but after that day I put them at the forefront of my

mind, and I decided to address them aggressively.

If I really put my mind to it, just how independent

could I become! Motivated by my fear of burdening

my loved ones, I created that mission statement—

even though at the time I had not a clue as to what a

mission statement was. My fear gave me a driving

passion and the strength to push myself. I need to do

more for myself. But how!

My parents always assured me that they were there

to help me and that they didn't mind carrying me,

lifting me, dressing me, or doing whatever I needed

them to do. But it bothered me that I couldn't even

get a drink of water by myself, and someone always

had to lift me onto the toilet seat. As I grew older, I

naturally wanted more independence, and I wanted

to look after myself more. My fear gave me the

determination to take action on those desires.

One of the thoughts that really stirred me to action

was the image of me being a burden on my brother

Aaron once my parents were no longer around. I'd

often worried about that because if anybody

deserved a normal life, it was my poor little brother.

I felt like God owed him that because for most of his

life he'd been stuck helping me, living with me, and

seeing me get so much attention. Aaron had arms

and legs, but in some ways he got the raw end of the

deal because he always felt he had to look out for me.

My decision to become more self-sufficient, as much

as any concern, was a matter of self-preservation.

Laura reminded me that I was still dependent on the

kindness and patience of others. I knew that I could

not always be so reliant on that. And pride played

into it too.

I am fully capable of having a family one day, and I

would never want my wife to have to carry me

around. I want to have kids and be a good father and

a good provider too, so I thought, I need to get out of

this wheelchair.

Fear can be your foe, but in this case I made it my

friend. I announced to my parents that I wanted to

find ways to care for myself. They were, of course,

worried at first.

"You don't have to do that. We'll make sure you're

always cared for," they said.

"Mum, Dad, I must do this for you and for me, so let's

put our heads together and figure this out," I said.

And we did. In some ways our creative efforts

reminded me of the old Swiss Family Robinson

movie. Stranded on an island, they all pitch in and

devise amazing gadgets for bathing, cooking, and

surviving. I know no man is an island, especially a

man with no arms and no legs. Maybe I was more

like a peninsula, or an isthmus.

My mum the nurse and my dad the handyman first

came up with a method for me to shower and

shampoo my hair. Dad replaced the round knobs on

the shower with levers that I could move with my

shoulders. Then mum brought home a hands-free

soap dispenser with a foot pump, used by doctors

prepping for surgery. We adapted it so I could use it

to pump soap and shampoo by stepping on it.

Then my dad and I came up with a design for a

plastic holder to mount on the wall for an electric

toothbrush. I could turn it on and off by pressing a

switch and then brush my teeth by moving back and

forth.

I told my parents that I wanted to be able to dress

myself, so my mum made shorts with a Velcro strip

that I could slip in and out of by myself. Shirt buttons

have always been a challenge for me, so we found

shirts that I could slip on and off by throwing them

over my head and wriggling into them.

My major fear had sent the three of us on a mission

that was both challenging and fun as we invented

ways for me to be more independent. Remote

controls, cell phones, computer keyboards, and

remote garage-door openers are a blessing for me

because I can operate them with my foot.

Some of the solutions we came up with weren't

exactly high tech. I learned how to turn off our home

security alarm using my nose to push the buttons,

and I used a golf club wedged between my chin and

neck to turn on the lights and open some of the

windows in the house.

I won't go into great detail on it, for obvious reasons,

but we also devised some ingenious methods that

allowed me to use the rest-room by myself. You can

see some of our methods and devices on this

YouTube video:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oDxlJWJ_ Wf A

Be assured, there is no restroom footage.

I am thankful for Laura's little talk with me about my

dignity, and I'm thankful for my youthful fear of

being dependent and a burden on my family because

it motivated me to become more independent.

Mastering even routine tasks that others take for

granted did wonders for my self-confidence, but I

might never have pushed myself to do it if not for

some potentially negative emotions that I turned into

positive energy.

You can do the same. Tap the energy generated by

your fears of failure or rejection or similar fears, and

use it to power positive action that puts you closer to

your dream.

FEAR FRAMED

You can also counter fears that might paralyze you

by fighting them with fear itself. Think of your

biggest fear. Let's say it's a fear of getting up in front

of a huge audience and forgetting your speech. That's

one I can identify with. Go ahead, visualize the very

worst happening: you forget your speech and they

boo you off the stage. Got that image' Okay. Next,

visualize yourself giving your speech so well that the

audience gives you a standing ovation.

Now, make the choice to go with the second scenario

and lock it into your mind so that every time you

prepare to speak, you move past your fear of the

boos and go right to the standing ovation. It works

for me, and it can work for you.

A similar method for moving beyond a fear is to go

back to your memory file of real-life experiences in

which you have persevered and overcome

challenges. For example, when I feel fearful and

nervous about meeting an important person such as

Oprah Winfrey, I just tap my memory bank for a shot

of courage.

You're scared to meet Oprah! What's she going to do,

cut off your arms and legs! Wait, you've already lived

more than twenty-five years and traveled the world

without arms and legs. Oprah, I'm ready for you!

Give me a hug!

STUCK WITH FEAR

When I was a kid, I had what seemed like a very

natural fear, a fear of doctors with needles.

Whenever I had to get my school vaccinations for

measles and rubella or the flu, I'd hide from my

mum. Part of the problem was that doctors had a

limited number of places on my body where they

could stick me. With other kids, they could do either

arm or the butt. My abbreviated body offered only

one target site, and since my bum sits very low to the

ground, it was especially painful for me, even when

they administered the shot high in my hip. Whenever

I received a shot, I couldn't walk for a day.

Because of my disability, I'd spent a good part of my

youth serving as a pincushion for doctors with

needles, and I'd developed a very deep fear. I was

known for fainting at the mere sight of a hypodermic

and syringe.

Once in grade school, two school nurses who

apparently didn't know either my history or much

about human anatomy came up on either side of me,

pinned me between them in my wheelchair, and

gave me shots in both shoulders—where there is

very little muscle or fat. It was excruciating. The pain

was so bad, I asked my friend Jerry to walk alongside

me and steer my wheelchair because I felt faint.

Jerry took control, and sure enough, I blacked out.

Poor Jerry didn't know what to do, so he steered my

wheelchair into our science class, with me hanging

over the side, and asked the teacher for help.

Knowing my great fear of needles, my mum didn't

tell me or my brother or sister that we were headed

to the doctor for our school inoculations. When I was

about twelve years old, we had a wild visit that

became part of family lore. Mum claimed we were

just going in for our school "checkups." My first tip-off was in the waiting room. We'd seen this little girl

about my age go into the examining area, and then

we heard her screaming as she received her shot.

"Did you hear that?" I asked Aaron and Michelle.

"They are giving us the needle too!"

My fear kicked in, and I went into a panic. I was

crying and yelling, telling my mum that I didn't want

to get a shot, that they hurt too much and I wanted to

go home. Since I was the oldest child, the younger

kids followed my brave and shining example. They

too started caterwauling and begging to go home.

Our mother the nurse had no sympathy, of course.

She was a veteran of the hypodermic wars. She

hauled her howling and kicking and clawing pack

into the examining room like a marine MP dragging

drunken soldiers to the brig.

Seeing that sheer panic and pitiful begging was not

working, I tried negotiation with the family

physician. "Don't you just have something I can drink

instead?" I bawled.

"I'm afraid not, my son."

Time for Plan B, as in Brother. I turned to Aaron and

asked him to help me escape. I had a getaway all

planned out. Aaron was to distract the doctors by

falling off the examining table so I could squirm out

of my wheelchair and make a run for it. But mum

intercepted me. Ever the opportunist, my little sister

bolted for the door. A passing nurse grabbed her in

the hallway, but then Michelle wedged her little arms

and legs in the doorway so they couldn't get her into

the examining room. She was my hero!

Our hysterical cries could be heard throughout the

clinic. Staff came running because it sounded as

though we were being brutally tortured.

Unfortunately, the reinforcements quickly took the

wrong side. Two of them pinned me down for an

injection. I screamed like a banshee.

I kept squirming just as they went to jam the needle

in my bum.

I jerked around and forced the needle to go in and

pop out again. So the doctor had to jam it in me

again! My screams set off car alarms in the parking

lot.

How any of us—my siblings, my mother, or the clinic

staff—survived that day, I'll never know. The three of

us wailed all the way home.

Because I was so afraid, my fears made the pain

worse than it would have been if I'd just let them

administer the shot. In fact, I doubled my pain

because I did not manage my fear. I couldn't walk for

two days instead of just one!

So keep that little fable from my life in mind: when

you let your fears control your actions, you are only

asking for serious pain in your bum!

CHAPTER SEVEN

Don't Let Your Face

Plant Grow Roots

As you might imagine, I had a long black-and-blue

history of falls and face plants as a child. I toppled off

tables, high chairs, beds, stairs, and ramps. Lacking

arms to break my fall, I usually took it on the chin,

not to mention the nose and forehead. I've gone

down hard many times.

What I've never done is stay down. There is a

Japanese proverb that describes my formula for

success: "Fall seven times, stand up eight."

You fail. I fail. The best of us fail, and the rest of us

fail too. Those who never rise from defeat often see

failure as final. What we all need to remember is that

life is not a pass-fail test. It's a trial-and-error

process. Those who succeed bounce back from their

bonehead mistakes because they view their setbacks

as temporary and as learning experiences. Every

successful person I know has messed up at some

point. Often, they say their mistakes were critical to

their success. When they flopped, they didn't quit.

Instead, they recognized their problems, worked

harder, and searched for more creative solutions. If

they failed five times, they tried five times harder.

Winston Churchill captured the essence of it when he

said, "Success is the ability to go from one failure to

another with no loss of enthusiasm."

If you can't overcome your defeats, it may be that

you have personalized them. Losing doesn't make

you a loser any more than striking out makes a great

baseball player a bench warmer. As long as you stay

in the game and keep swinging, you can still be a

slugger. If you aren't willing to do the work required,

then losing isn't your problem, you are the problem.

To achieve success you have to feel worthy of it and

then take responsibility for making it happen.

In my speeches, I demonstrate my philosophy on

failure by flopping down on my belly and continuing

to talk to the audience from that position. Given my

lack of limbs, you might think that it would be

impossible for me to get up on my own. My

audiences often think that too.

My parents say I taught myself to rise up from a

horizontal position as a toddler. They'd put pillows

down and coax me to brace against them. But I had

to do it my way, the hard way, of course. Instead of

using the pillows, I'd crawl to a wall or a chair or

couch, wedge my forehead against it to get leverage,

then inch myself up.

It's not the easiest thing to do. Try it if you like. Get

on the floor on your stomach and try to rise to your

knees without using your arms or legs for leverage.

You don't feel very graceful, do you? But what feels

better, rising up or staying down? That's because you

weren't made to wallow on the ground. You were

made to rise again and again and again until you

have fully unleashed your potential.

Now and then when I demonstrate my rising

technique in my speeches, I'll run into a glitch of

some sort. I usually speak from an elevated platform,

a stage or even a desk or tabletop if we're in a

classroom or a conference room. At one school

appearance, I flopped down before I realized that

someone with good intentions had spray-waxed the

top of the table before my speech. It was slicker than

an Olympic ice rink up there. I tried to rub a spot

clean of the spray wax so I could get a grip, but no

luck. It was a bit embarrassing when I had to give up

on the lesson and call for help: "Could someone

please give me a hand?"

On another occasion, I was speaking at a fundraiser

in Houston to a large and distinguished audience,

including Jeb Bush, the former governor of Florida,

and his wife, Columba. As I prepared to talk about

the importance of never giving up, I went down on

my belly, as usual. The crowd fell silent, as usual.

"We all fail from time to time," I said. "But failing is like falling. You just have to keep getting back up,

never giving up on your dreams."

The audience was really into it, but before I could

demonstrate that even I have the ability to rise again,

this woman I'd never met came scurrying up from

the back of the room.

"Here, let me help you up," she said.

"But I don't need any help," I whispered through

gritted teeth. "This is part of my speech."

"Don't be silly. Let me help you," she insisted.

"Ma'am, please, I really don't need your help. I'm

trying to make a point."

"Well, okay then, if you are sure, sweetie," she said before returning to her seat.

I think the audience was nearly as relieved to see her

sit down as they were to see me get up! People often

get emotional when they see what it takes for me to

simply lift myself up from the floor. They relate to my

struggle because we all struggle. You can take heart

in that too when your plans hit a wall or hard times

hit you. Your trials and tribulations are a part of life

shared by the rest of humanity.

Even if you create a sense of purpose for your life,

keep hoping for the possibilities, have faith in your

future, appreciate your value, maintain a positive

attitude, and refuse to let your fears hold you back,

you will endure setbacks and disappointments. You

should never think of failures as final, never equate

them with death or dying, because the reality is that

in your struggles you are experiencing life. You are

in the game. The challenges we face can help make

us stronger, better, and more prepared for success.

THE LESSONS OF LOSING

You could view your failures as a gift because they

often set you up for a breakthrough. So what benefits

can be derived in defeat or setbacks? I can think of at

least four valuable lessons failure gives us.

1. It is a great teacher.

2. It builds character.

3. It motivates you.

4. It helps you appreciate success.

IT IS A GREAT TEACHER

Yes, defeat is a great teacher. Every winner has

played the loser. Every champion has been the

runner-up. Roger Federer is considered one of the

best tennis players of all time, but he doesn't win

every game, set, or match. He hits bad shots into the

net. He slams serves out of bounds. He fails to place

the tennis ball where he wants it dozens of times in

every match. If Roger gave up after every failed shot,

he'd be a failure. Instead, he learns from his misses

and his losses and stays in the game. That's why he is

a champion.

Does Federer always try to hit the perfect shot and to

win every game, set, and match? Certainly, and so

should you in whatever you do. Work hard. Practice.

Master the fundamentals, and always try to do your

best, knowing that sometimes you will fail because

failure is on the path to mastery.

My younger brother teases me about my early years

of developing as a speaker when I often failed to find

an audience. I'd beg schools and organizations for

the chance to speak to them, but most turned me

down as too young or too inexperienced or just too

unusual. It was frustrating sometimes, but I knew I

was still learning the ropes, figuring out what I

needed to know to be a successful speaker.

When Aaron was in high school, he'd drive me all

over the city searching for even a few people willing

to listen to me. I'd speak for free just for the

experience. Even then my price was often too high. I

must have rung up every school in Brisbane offering

my services at no charge. Most turned me down

initially, but every no just made me push harder for

the next yes.

"Don't you ever give up?" Aaron would say.

I didn't give up because every time I was turned

down it hurt so much that I realized I'd found my

passion. I really wanted to become a speaker. But

even when I did manage to find an audience willing

to listen to me, it didn't always go well. At one school

in Brisbane, I started badly. Something distracted

me, and I couldn't find my way back on track. I was

sweating through my shirt. I kept repeating myself. I

wanted to crawl off in a hole and never be seen

again. I did so poorly I thought word would spread

and I'd never be asked to speak in public for the rest

of my life. When I finally finished and left the school,

I felt like a laughingstock: my reputation was shot!

We can be our own harshest critics. I certainly was

that day. But that flubbed performance made me

focus even more on my dream. I worked at honing

my presentation and delivery. Once you accept that

perfection is just a goal, screwing up isn't so hard to

handle. Each misstep is still a step, another lesson

learned, another opportunity to get it right the next

time.

I realized that if you fail and give up, you will never

get up. But if you learn the lessons of failure and

keep trying to do your best, the rewards will come—

not just in the approval of others but in the

fulfillment of knowing that you are making the most

of every day allotted to you.

IT BUILDS CHARACTER

Is it possible that messing up can build you up and

make you more fit for success? Yes! What does not

destroy you can make you stronger, more focused,

more creative, and more determined to pursue your

dreams. You may be in a rush to succeed, and there

is nothing wrong with that, but patience is a virtue

too, and failure certainly will develop that trait in

you. Believe me, I've learned that my schedule isn't

necessarily in God's day planner. He has His own

time line and the rest of us have to wait for it to

unfold.

This lesson really hit me when I joined my uncle Sam

Radojevic in a startup business to manufacture and

market his recumbent bicycle called the Hippo Cycle.

We began in 2006, and our company still hasn't taken

off, but with each setback and mistake, we learn a

little more and move a little closer to our goal. We

are building a business and our characters too, no

doubt about that. I've learned that sometimes even

though you may be doing your best, it's not enough

to make a business work. Timing can be critical too.

The economy suffered a recession just as we

launched the business. We've had to be patient, hang

in there, and wait for the times and the trends to

come back our way.

There will be times when you will have to wait for

the world to catch up to you. Thomas Edison, who

went through more than ten thousand failed

experiments before he developed a commercial light

bulb, said most of those who consider themselves

failures are people who did not realize how close to

success they were when they gave up. They were

almost there, going through failure, but still bound

for success. But they gave up before the tide could

turn for them.

You never know what lies around the next corner. It

could be the answer to your dreams. So you have to

buck up, stay strong, and keep fighting. If you fail, so

what? If you fall, so what? Edison also said: "Every

wrong attempt discarded is another step forward."

If you do your best, God will do the rest, and

whatever is meant to come your way will come. You

have to be strong of character to win, and every loss

can be a character-building experience if you are

open to it.

In 2009 I spoke at the Oaks Christian School in

Westlake, California. This small school is known for

being a giant killer on the football field. Just recently

their starting quarterback was the son of famed NFL

quarterback Joe Montana. His backup was the son of

Wayne Gretzky, the hockey legend. And their star

receiver was the son of the wonderful actor Will

Smith.

Their football team has won six consecutive

conference championships. When I spoke there, I

met the founder of the school, David Price, and I

realized where Oaks Christian athletic teams learned

about strength of character.

David had been an attorney in a big Hollywood law

firm with movie stars and movie studios as clients.

He then went to work for an entrepreneur who

owned hotels and resorts along with land all over

California, including several golf courses. David was

adept at managing businesses, and he saw that most

golf courses were poorly run because they were

usually operated by golf professionals who had never

learned good business practices.

One day David went to his boss and said he wanted to

buy a golf course from him.

"First of all, you work for me," the boss said, "so why should I sell you anything? Secondly, you know

nothing about golf. And thirdly, you have, no

money!"

David failed to convince his boss at first, but he didn't

give up. He persevered. He kept pestering him until

the boss bought into David's dream and sold him the

golf course he wanted. It was just the first of more

than 350 golf courses that David eventually owned or

leased.

Then when the golf course business suffered a

downturn, David sold out. Now he buys, leases, and

manages airports around the country. What did

David learn from failure? Patience and perseverance,

for sure. He never gave up on his dream. When the

market dropped in the golf business, David also took

stock and realized that his real skill wasn't managing

golf courses, it was managing businesses. So he

simply transferred that skill over to another arena.

David, who is now on the board of my Life Without

Limbs nonprofit organization, told me the bigger the

challenges we endure, the greater our strength of

character. "Nick, if you'd been born with arms and

legs, I don't think you would be as successful as you

will become without them one day," David said.

"How many kids would listen to you if they couldn't

see right away that you have turned what should

have been an incredible negative into something so

positive?"

Remember those words when you experience

challenges. For every blocked path, there is an open

one. For every "disability," there is an ability. You were put on this earth to serve a purpose, so don't

ever let a loss convince you that there are no ways to

win. As long as you draw breath with the rest of us

mortals, there is always a way.

I'm grateful that I've failed and persevered. My

challenges made me more patient and more

tenacious too. Those traits have come in handy in my

work and in my play. One of my favorite ways to

relax is to go fishing. My parents first took me when I

was just six years old. They'd stick my pole in the

ground or in a holder until I got a bite. Then I'd tuck

my chin around the pole and hold on to the fish until

someone could come and help me.

On one day I wasn't having much luck, but I hung in

there, watching my line for three hours straight. The

sun roasted me to a crispy crimson, but I was

determined to catch a fish that day. My parents had

wandered off, fishing down the shoreline, so I was

alone when a fish finally hit my bait. I stomped my

hand line with my toes and screamed "Mum! Dad!"

until they came running.

When they pulled it in, that fish was twice my size.

But I never would have landed him if I hadn't hung

in there and refused to let go with my toe.

Of course, failure can also build humility into your

character. I failed in my high school accounting class,

which was a humbling experience. I was afraid that

maybe I didn't have what it took to be a numbers

cruncher, but my teacher encouraged me and

tutored me. I studied and studied, and years later I

earned a double degree in accounting and financial

planning.

I needed that lesson in humility when I was a

student. I needed to fail so I could learn that I didn't

know all I needed to know. In the end, humility made

me stronger. The writer Thomas Merton said, "A

humble man is not afraid of failure. In fact, he is not

afraid of anything, even of himself, since perfect

humility implies perfect confidence in the power of

God before Whom no other power has any meaning

and for Whom there is no such thing as an obstacle."

IT MOTIVATES YOU

We can choose to respond to loss or failure by

despairing and giving up, or we can let the loss or

failure serve as a learning experience and

motivation to do better. A friend of mine is a fitness

instructor, and I've heard him tell clients who are

bench-pressing weights to "go to failure." Now that's encouraging, isn't it? But the theory is that you keep

pumping the iron until your muscles are exhausted

so that next time you can try to exceed that limit and

build more strength.

One of the keys to success in any sport and in your

work too is practice. I think of practice as failing

toward success, and I can give you a perfect example

that involves me and my cell phone. You may think

the smart phone is a great invention, but for me it is

a gift from heaven. Sometimes I think the inventors

must have had me in mind when they created a

single device that even a guy without arms or legs

can use to talk on the telephone, send e-mails, text

messages, play music, tape-record sermons and

memos, and keep up with the weather and world

events just by tapping it with my toes.

The smart phone isn't quite perfectly designed for

me since the only part of me that can use the touch

screen is a long way from the part of me that can

talk! I can use the speaker feature most of the time,

but when I'm in an airport or a restaurant, I don't

want to share my conversations with everyone

around me.

I had to figure out a way to position my cell phone

closer to my mouth once I'd dialed it with my foot.

The method I devised gives new meaning to the term

"flip phone" and offers a bruising lesson in the role of failure in success. I spent a good week trying to

use my little foot to flip my phone onto my shoulder,

where I'd pin it down with my chin so I could talk on

it. (Kids, don't try this at home!) During this trial-and-

error period, you can believe I failed in many

attempts. My face had so many bruises from getting

hit by the phone that I looked like I'd been smacked

with a bag full of nickels.

I only practiced when no one was around, because if

someone had seen me, they might have thought I was

into cellular self-abuse. I won't tell you how many

times I whacked myself in the head or nose with my

cell phone—or how many cell phones died in the

mastery of the task. I could afford to take a few hits

and to replace a few cell phones. What I couldn't

afford to do was give up.

Every time that cell phone cracked me in the face, I

became more and more motivated to master the feat,

and eventually I did! Of course, as fate would have it,

shortly after I finally mastered the skill, the tech

world came out with Bluetooth headsets that rest in

your ear. Now my famous cell-phone flip is a relic of

technology past and it's just something I do to

entertain friends when they're bored.

I encourage you to look at your own setbacks and

pratfalls as sources of motivation and inspiration.

There's no shame in falling short, striking out,

tripping up, or screwing up. It's only a shame if you

don't use the motivation from your misses and

miscues to try harder and stay in the game.

IT HELPS YOU APPRECIATE SUCCESS

The fourth gift of failure is that it serves as success

appreciation class. Believe me, after a week of being

whapped by my bad cellphone flips, I felt enormous

appreciation when I finally nailed the landing on my

shoulder. In fact, the harder you have to work to

achieve a goal, the more you will appreciate it. How

many times have you looked back from a big victory

and thought how sweet it was to finally triumph after

your long struggle? Admit it, the tougher the climb,

the better the view at the top.

One of my favorite childhood Bible stories was that of

Joseph, the favored but proud son whose jealous

brothers sold him into slavery. Joseph had a rough go

for a long time. He was falsely accused of a crime,

thrown into prison, and betrayed time and again by

people he trusted. But Joseph didn't give up. He

didn't let bitterness or failure defeat him. He

persevered to become the ruler of Egypt who saved

his people.

There are many lessons to draw from Joseph's

struggles and his ultimate ascension to the throne.

One I learned is that success may not come without

pain. Joseph's trials helped me understand that while

my life certainly seemed harder than most, others

suffered more yet endured and achieved greatness. I

saw that while God loves us, He makes no promises

that life will be easy. And finally, I saw that once

Joseph emerged from his many trials and betrayals,

he savored his triumph by becoming a great and just

king.

When you put your whole heart into achieving a goal

and you go through great pain and suffering along

the way, the feeling of achievement once you break

through is so incredible that you just want to build

on it, don't you? I don't think that is an accident. It

may be one of the main reasons humankind has

come so far. We celebrate tough victories not because

we survived the effort but because our nature is to

keep growing and seeking even higher levels of

fulfillment.

In those times when God makes me work harder and

harder for my goals, putting one stumbling block

after another in my path, I truly believe that He is

preparing me for bigger and better days. He throws

challenges at us because He knows that when we go

through failure, we grow.

Looking back at all I had to overcome at such a

young age—the pain, the insecurity, the hurt, the

loneliness—I don't feel sad. I feel humbled and

grateful because I overcame those challenges that

make my successes all the sweeter. In the end, they

made me stronger, and, more important, they made

me better equipped to reach out to others. Without

my pain I would never be able to help anybody else

deal with their pain. I wouldn't be able to relate so

well with other people. As I approached my teen

years, the knowledge of what I'd overcome made me

more confident. That new level of self-confidence, in

turn, attracted other kids to me. I formed a big circle

of male and female friends. I loved the attention! I'd

wheel around school basking in the warmth.

Of course, you know where that led—to politics. I

summoned the courage to run for the school captain

—which was the presidency of the entire student

body of twelve hundred kids at Mac-Gregor State

School, which was like a combined junior high and

high school and one of the largest schools in

Queensland.

Not only was I the first physically disabled kid to run

for school captain, I was running against one of the

best athletes in the school's history—Matthew McKay,

who is now a famous soccer player in Australia. My

teacher, Mrs. Hurley, encouraged me to run after I

was surprised to be nominated by my classmates. I

ran on a platform of diversity and multiculturalism,

and my campaign promise was to hold wheelchair

races on school sports day.

I won in a landslide (sorry Matthew). My mum still

has a clip from the Courier Mail newspaper, which

featured a big photograph and story with a headline

hailing me as "Captain Courageous."

The same newspaper quoted me as saying: "All

wheelchair kids, I reckon, should just give everything

ago."

My boyhood slogan may not be as recognized as

Nike's "Just Do It!" but it served me well. You will fail because you are human. You will fall because the

path is rough. But know that your failures too are

part of the gift of life, so put them to their highest

use. Don't stop, mate. Give everything a go!

CHAPTER EIGHT

The New Bloke In The Bushes

I was twelve years old when my family moved from

Australia to the United States. I was scared out of my

wits to be starting all over in a place where I had no

friends. On the plane to our new country, my brother

and little sister and I practiced our American accents

so we wouldn't be teased when we talked to our new

schoolmates.

I couldn't do anything about my unusual body, but I

figured I could fix my foreign accent. Later I learned

that most Americans love Australian accents.

Crocodile Dundee had been a big hit just a few years

earlier. By trying to sound like my classmates, I

missed out on all sorts of opportunities to impress

girls.

This was the first major change in my life, and trying

to sound American wasn't the only mistake I made.

My new school was Lindero Canyon Middle School,

which is in the foothills of the Santa Monica

Mountains not far from where I live today. It was a

wonderful school but I struggled there at first. It's

hard for any kid to move away from where he's

grown up, switch schools, and make new friends.

Along with the usual hurdles of being new, I didn't

look like a "normal" kid. I was the only student in a wheelchair, and the only one with a teacher's aide.

Most teens worry that they'll be made fun of if they

have a pimple. Imagine my concern.

I'd already fought to be accepted back in Australia, in

my first school in Melbourne and then again when

we moved to the Brisbane area. It took so much

energy to convince my classmates that I was cool

enough to hang out with. Now I was forced to begin

anew.

CHANGE U.

Sometimes when we go through transitions, we

aren't aware of the impact they have on us. Stress,

doubt, and even depression commonly result from

being moved or thrown out of your comfort zone,

however easy the transition is. You may have a

strong sense of purpose, high hopes, strong faith, a

powerful sense of self-worth, a positive attitude, the

courage to face your fears, and the ability to bounce

back from failures. But if you fall apart when faced

with the inevitable changes that life brings, you will

never move forward.

We often resist change, but really, who would want a

life without it? Some of our greatest experiences,

growth, and rewards come to us as the result of

moving to a new place, switching jobs, following a

different course of study, or moving into a better

relationship.

Our lives are a progression from childhood through

adolescence and adulthood into our senior years. To

not change would be impossible and deadly dull.

Sometimes we have to be patient. We can't always

control or even influence change, and the changes

that we want may not happen when we want them

to.

There are two major types of change that tend to

challenge us and disrupt our day-to-day lives. The

first happens to us. The second happens within us.

We can't control the first, but we can and should

control the second.

I had no say in my parents' decision to move to the

United States, any more than I did about being born

without arms or legs. They were beyond my

influence. But just as with my disability, I had the

power to determine how I would deal with the move

to the United States. I came to accept it and to

dedicate myself to making the best of it.

You have that same ability to deal with unwanted or

unexpected changes in your life. Often you can be

blindsided by rapid and unexpected shifts in your

circumstances—a loved one dies, a job is lost, an

illness strikes, an accident occurs—so that you may

not recognize at first that a major life-changing event

is under way. Your first step in mastering an

unwanted or sudden alteration is to be alert to them

and quick to recognize that you are about to enter a

new phase, for better or worse. Just being aware of

that reduces the stress. Keep in mind thoughts like

Okay, this is all new. It will seem a bit strange. I will need to stay calm, not panic, and be patient. I know it

will all work out for the best.

When we moved to the United States, I had plenty of

time to think about all the ways our lives were

changing, yet at some moments I felt overwhelmed

and disoriented. Sometimes I felt like screaming, "I

just want to go back home to my real life!"

Sorry to say, mate, but you will probably have those

moments too. I look back on mine now and see the

humor in them, especially since now I love living in

California. Hopefully you'll be able to laugh at

yourself one day just as I did. You should understand

that frustrations and anger are natural emotions

when going through a major transition. Give yourself

some slack and time to adjust. It helps to prepare

yourself for unexpected jolts now and then. It's like

moving to a new city: you have to give yourself time

to find your way, get acclimated, and discover where

you fit in.

EXPECT THE UNEXPECTED

Culture shock set in early and often during my first

few weeks in America. In fact, on the very first day of

school I had a bit of a panic when the entire class

stood to recite the Pledge of Allegiance. We didn't do

anything like that in Australia. I felt like I'd walked

into a club that I didn't belong to.

Then one day all the alarms went off and the

teachers told us to get under our desks! I thought

aliens were attacking, but it was just a disaster drill

for earthquakes. Earthquakes?

Of course I got the usual nervous glances, rude

questions, and odd comments about my lack of

limbs. I could not believe how curious American

middle-school kids were about how I managed in the

restroom. I prayed for an earthquake, just to stop the

endless interrogations about my toilet tactics.

I had to adjust also to the constant shuffle from class

to class. Back in Australia all my subjects were taught

in one room. We didn't move around all day like

kangaroos in the outback. At Lindero Canyon Middle

School, it seemed like all we did was hop from one

classroom to the next.

I was not handling this major life change very well.

I'd always been a good student, but I quickly fell

behind in my new school. They had no room in the

regular sixth-grade classes so they'd put me in an

advanced studies program, but my grades were

retreating. Looking back, I can see that I was just

stressed out. And why wouldn't I have been? My

whole life had been packed up and transported

across the globe.

We didn't even have our own house anymore. My

father was working for Uncle Batta, and we were

living with him and his family in their big house

until we found our own. I didn't see much of my

parents because they were busy finding work,

commuting to work, or looking for a place to live.

I hated it. I was overwhelmed, mentally, emotionally,

and physically. So I made like a turtle and withdrew

into my shell. During recess and lunch hours, I went

off on my own, sometimes hiding behind the bushes

near the playground. My favorite hideout, though,

was in one of the music rooms overseen by Mr.

McKagan, the band and music teacher.

Mr. McKagan, who is still on the staff at Lindero

Canyon, is a terrific teacher. He was so popular, he

was like a rock star at the school, teaching (I think)

eight or nine classes a day. His brother Duff is a

legendary bass guitarist who has played with Guns N'

Roses and other top rock bands. That was another

strange aspect of moving from Australia to

California. I felt like we'd left a perfectly normal

family existence and landed in some surreal pop

culture kingdom. We lived just outside Los Angeles

and Hollywood, so we were always bumping into

movie stars and television stars in the grocery store

or at the mall. Half my classmates were aspiring or

working actors. After school, I could turn on the

television and watch a nice guy from my history

class, Jonathan Taylor Thomas, ham it up on the

popular television show Home Improvement.

My life had been altered in so many ways, I was

simply overwhelmed. I'd lost all the confidence I'd

worked so hard to build. My Australian classmates

had accepted me, but in America I was a stranger in

a strange land with a strange accent and an even

stranger body. Or at least that's how I felt. Mr.

McKagan saw that I was hiding out in his music

rooms, and he tried to encourage me to go out and

mix with the other students. But I just couldn't get

motivated.

I was fighting a change I couldn't control instead of

focusing on what I could adjust, my attitude and my

actions. Really, I should have known better. I was

only twelve years old, but I'd already learned to focus

on my abilities instead of my disabilities. I'd accepted

my lack of limbs and I'd managed to become a pretty

happy and self-sufficient kid. But this move threw

me for a loop.

Have you ever noticed that when you enter into one

of those major transitional periods in your life, your

senses seem heightened? When you go through a bad

breakup, doesn't every movie and television show

seem to have a hidden message aimed at you? Don't

all the songs on the radio seem to be about your very

own aching heart? Those heightened emotions and

senses may be survival tools triggered when you are

stressed or thrown into unfamiliar situations. They

put you on high alert, and they can be valuable.

I still remember that as distressed as I was about

leaving Australia, I always found peace and comfort

gazing at the mountains or watching the sun set on

the beach in my new environment. I still think

California is a beautiful place, but it seemed even

more beautiful then.

Whether positive or negative, change can be a

powerful and scary experience, which is why your

first reaction may be to fight it. When I took business

classes in college, I learned that most major

corporations have executives who are the designated

"change agents." Their job is to rally reluctant

employees behind big transitions, whether it's a

merger, or a new division, or a new way of doing

business.

As the president of my own business, I've learned

that each employee has his or her own way of

dealing with new initiatives or alterations in our

mission. There will always be a few people who get

excited about new experiences, but mostly people

resist because they are comfortable with the status

quo, or they fear their lives will change for the

worse.

CHANGE RESISTANT

Everyone knows nothing stays the same forever, but

strangely, when outside events or other people force

us out of our comfort zones, we often become fearful

and insecure. Sometimes we grow angry and

resentful. Even when people are in a bad situation—

a violent relationship, a dead-end job, or a dangerous

environment— they often refuse to take a new path

because they would rather deal with the known than

the unknown.

I recently met George, a physical therapist and

fitness coach. I told him that I was having a problem

with my back and that I needed some exercises to

strengthen it but I couldn't get motivated to work out

because I was so busy traveling and running my

company. George's response was classic: "Hey, if you

want to deal with that pain getting worse and worse

for the rest of your life, good luck to you."

He mocked me! I felt like giving George a head butt.

But then I realized he was motivating me, forcing me

to deal with the fact that if I was not willing to adjust

my lifestyle, I would pay the consequences.

He was saying, Nick, you don't have to change if you

don't feel like it, but the only person who can help

your back feel better is you.

I was a good example of a bad example with my

resistance to a lifestyle adjustment. But people in far

worse circumstances resist moves that would greatly

improve their lives. Often they are afraid to give up

even terrible situations if it means shifting into an

unfamiliar situation. And many people refuse to

accept responsibility for their own lives. President

Barack Obama stressed the importance of personal

responsibility when he said, "We are the change we

have been waiting for." But some people fight the

tide, even when it threatens to drown them.

For some people, taking responsibility is a lot more

daunting than taking a pass. When life deals you a

card that ruins your hand and upsets your plans, you

can blame the universe, your parents, and the kid

who stole your sandwich in the third grade. But in

the end, blaming does nothing for you. Taking

responsibility is the only way to master the detours

and shifting conditions along your life's path. My

experiences have taught me that making a positive

change has five necessary stages.

1. Recognizing The Need To Change

Sadly, we are often slow to recognize the need to

make a move. We settle into a routine, even if it isn't

all that comfortable, and we choose inaction over

action simply out of laziness or fear. Often it takes

something really scary to make us recognize that we

need a new plan. My attempted suicide was one such

moment for me. I had been hanging on for years,

putting on a brave face most of the time, but inside I

was haunted by dark thoughts that if I could not

change my body, I'd end my life. When I reached the

point where I nearly let myself drown, I recognized it

was time to take responsibility for my own

happiness.

2. Envisioning Something New

A friend of mine, Ned, recently had the sad task of

convincing his parents to move out of their home of

forty years and into a senior living center, a nursing

home. His father's health was failing, and the burden

of caring for him had endangered his mother's life

too. His parents did not want to move. They

preferred to stay in their home, surrounded by

neighbors they knew. "We are happy here. Why

would we leave?" they said.

Ned talked it over with his parents for more than a

year before he convinced them to visit a very nice

senior citizens community just a few blocks from

their home. They'd formed an image of "old folks'

homes" as cold and dreary places where "old people

go to die." Instead, they found a clean, warm, and

lively place where many of their former neighbors

were living and enjoying active days. It had a

medical clinic staffed with doctors and nurses and

therapists who could take over some of the care for

Ned's father that had weighed so heavily on his

mother.

Once his parents had a vision of the new place, they

agreed to move there. "We never thought it could be

so nice," they said.

If you have difficulty moving from where you are to

where you need to go, it may help to get a clear

vision of where the move will take you. This may

mean scouting out a location, trying new relation-

ships, or shadowing someone in a career you might

want to pursue. Once you are more familiar with the

new place, it will be easier to leave the old one.

3. Letting Go Of The Old

This is a tough stage for many people. Imagine you

are climbing a rock wall in the mountains. You are

halfway up the wall, hundreds of feet above the

valley floor. You have just come to a small ledge. It's

scary, and you know you would be vulnerable if the

wind picked up or a storm moved in, but on that

ledge you have at least some sense of security.

The problem is that to keep moving up, or even to

head back down, you have to abandon the security of

that ledge and reach for another hold. Letting go of

that sense of security, however tenuous, is the

challenge, whether you are rock climbing or taking a

new path in life. You have to release your hold on the

old and grab on to the new. Many people freeze at

this stage, or they start to make the move but then

get scared and chicken out. If you find yourself in

this situation, think of yourself as climbing a ladder.

To move to the next rung, you must give up your grip

and reach for the next one. Release, reach, and raise

yourself up, one rung at a time!

4. Getting Settled

This can be another tricky stage for people. They

may have let go of the old and moved up to the new,

but until they attain a certain comfort level, they can

still be tempted to go running back. It's the Okay, I'm

here, now what! Stage.

The key to settling in is to be very careful about the

thoughts that play out in your head. You have to

screen out panic-mode thoughts like Oh my gosh,

what did I do? and focus forward along the lines of

This is a great adventure!

In my first few months in the United States as a boy, I

struggled with the acceptance stage mightily. I spent

many days and nights twitching uncomfortably in

my bed, fretting about my new environment. I hid

out from other students, fearing rejection and

mockery. But slowly, gradually, I came to enjoy

certain aspects of my new home. For one thing, I had

cousins here too; I just hadn't known them as well as

my cousins back in Australia. My American cousins

turned out to be great people. Then there were the

beach and the mountains and the desert, all within

easy reach.

Then, just as I began to think maybe California USA

wasn't so bad, my parents decided to return to

Australia. When I got older and finished college, I

moved right back to California. Now, it feels like

home to me!

5. Keep Growing

This is the best stage of making a successful

transition. You've made the leap, and now it's time to

grow in the new environment. The fact is that you

really can't keep growing without change. Although

the process can be stressful and even downright

painful emotionally and even physically, the growth

is usually worth it.

I've seen that in my business. A few years ago I had

to restructure my company. That meant letting some

people go. I am horrible at firing people. I absolutely

hate it. I'm a nurturing kind of guy, not a bloke who

likes to bring the bad news down on those I care

about. I still have nightmares about firing staff

members whom I'd come to know and love as

friends. But looking back, my company never would

have been able to grow if I hadn't made that change.

We've reaped the rewards. I can't say that I'm glad to

have let go those former employees; I miss them still.

Growing pains are a sign that you are stretching and

reaching for new heights. You don't have to enjoy

them, but know that they always come before a

breakthrough that leads to better days.

CHANGING THE WORLD

In my travels I've observed people in each of these

stages of change, especially during the 2008 trip to

India that I described before. I went to speak in

Mumbai, India's largest city and the second most

populated city in the world. Once known as Bombay,

Mumbai is on India's west coast, on the Arabian Sea,

and serves as its financial and cultural center.

This city, home to both great wealth and terrible

poverty, has been in the public spotlight because it

served as the setting for the Academy Award-

winning movie Slumdog Millionaire. As great as it is,

that film offered only brief glimpses into the horrors

of Mumbai's slums and the sexual slave trade that

flourishes in a city dominated by Hindus and

Muslims, with only a small population of Christians.

It's estimated that more than half a million people

are forced to sell their bodies in Mumbai. Most are

kidnapped from small villages in Nepal, Bangladesh,

and other rural areas. Many of the women are

devadasi, worshippers of a Hindu goddess who were

forced into prostitution by their "priests." Some of

the prostitutes are male hijras, castrated men. They

are packed into filthy tenement houses and forced to

have sex with at least four men a night. They have

spread the AIDS virus rapidly, and millions have

died.

At one point I was taken to the red-light district

known as the "Street of Cages" in Mumbai to see the

suffering there and to speak to the victims of slavery.

I had been invited by the Reverend K. K. Devaraj,

founder of Bombay Teen Challenge, which works to

rescue people from sexual slavery and help them

find better, healthy lives.

Uncle Dev, who also operates a home for AIDS

orphans, feeding programs, medical centers, an

HIV/AIDS clinic, and a rescue operation for drug-

addicted "street boys," had seen my videos, so he

hoped that I could serve as a change agent in

Mumbai. He wanted me to convince women working

as prostitutes to flee slavery and to move into his

shelters. Reverend Devaraj says that each enslaved

woman is a "precious soul and valuable pearl."

Bombay Teen Challenge is such a force for good in

the slums of Mumbai that the pimps and madams

allow Uncle Dev and his team, who are Christians, to

come in and speak to them, even though most are

Hindu. They welcome that calming influence even

though the Bombay Teen Challenge team constantly

tries to convince the prostitutes to accept Christ and

to leave the brothels for better lives.

Bit by bit, this ministry works to change the hearts of

these enslaved women. The average girl is kidnapped

between the age of ten and thirteen. They are lured

from small rural villages, and most are very naive. If

a girl is wary, the recruiters try to win over her

parents, telling them she will earn fifty times the

average wage. Or, sadly, they buy the girl from her

parents, an all-too-common occurrence. The people

who recruit and transport them are the first in a long

line of cruel abusers. Once the girls are captive, the

pimps take control, telling them, "You work for us

now, whether you like it or not."

While in Mumbai, we interviewed several former sex

slaves who'd been freed by Bombay Teen Challenge.

Their stories, each one heartbreaking, are

unfortunately not unusual. If they refused to be

prostitutes, they were beaten, raped, and put in cages

in dark and filthy underground compounds where

they couldn't even stand up. There they were

starved, abused, and brainwashed all the more until

they became submissive. Then they were sent to the

brothels where they were told that they had been

purchased for seven hundred U.S. dollars and that

they had three years to work off the debt as

prostitutes. Former sex slaves told us they'd been

required to have sex hundreds of times, with two

dollars applied to their debt each time.

Most think they have no other options. The pimps tell

them that their families will never take them back

because of the shame they've brought to them. Many

contract sexually transmitted diseases or have

children as the result of their prostitution and so

they feel they have nowhere else to go.

As horrendous as life is for these girls and women,

they often are afraid to make a change. Without

faith, they lose hope, and then they lose their

humanity. They despair of ever making it out of

slavery and the slum. Psychologists often see the

same resistance to escaping in women who are in

abusive relationships. They may live in fear and

pain, but they refuse to leave the abuser because

they are more fearful of the unknown. They have lost

their ability to dream of a better life, so they can't see

it.

You may clearly see that these sex slaves should flee

their terrible lives, but do you always see your own

situation with such clarity? Have you ever felt

trapped in circumstances, then discovered that the

only trap was your own lack of vision, lack of

courage, or failure to see that you had better options?

To make a change, you must be able to envision what

lies on the other side. You have to have hope and

faith in God and in your ability to find something

better.

The Bombay Teen Challenge recognizes that women

who have been enslaved have difficulty seeing a way

out because they are so beaten down, isolated, and

threatened. Some say they can't believe that they are

worthy of love or even decent treatment.

I witnessed firsthand the suffering in the brothels

and slums of Mumbai, and I also saw the miracles

that Uncle Dev and his dedicated missionaries are

performing among the sex slaves and their children,

known as "sparrows," who often live homeless, on

the streets.

They took me from one house to another. In the first

I was introduced to an old woman who rose slowly

from the floor as we entered. She was a madam who,

through an interpreter, invited me in to "preach to

my whores and inspire them to be better."

The madam introduced me to a woman who looked

to be in her forties. She told me that she'd been

kidnapped from her rural home at the age of ten and

forced into prostitution.

"I worked off my debt and was free to go at thirteen,"

she said through an interpreter. "I went out into the

street for the first time, and I was beaten and raped.

Still I made my way back to my family, but they

didn't want anything to do with me anymore. I came

back here and returned to work as a prostitute. Then

I had two children, and one died. Two days ago I

found out that I have AIDS, so my pimp fired me. And

now I have a child to look after and nowhere to go."

From our perspective, you and I may see that she had

options, but in her much narrower circumstance

there seemed to be no alternatives. Understand that

sometimes you may not see a way out, but know that

change is always possible. When you can't find an

alternate path, look for help. Seek guidance from

those with a wider perspective. Whether it's a friend,

a family member, a professional counselor, or a

public servant, don't ever fall into the trap of

thinking there is no escape. There is always a way

out!

This woman was just twenty years old. I prayed with

her. We told her that she could leave the brothel and

live in housing provided by Bombay Teen Challenge

while also receiving medical treatment at their clinic.

Once we opened her eyes and showed her the way

out to a more caring world, she was not only willing

to change, she found faith as well.

"Hearing you speak, I know God chose not to heal me

of HIV/ AIDS because I can bring other women to

Christ," she said. "I have nothing left, but I know God is with me."

The peace and hope in her eyes took my breath away.

She was so beautiful in her faith. She said she knew

God had not forgotten her, that He had a purpose for

her even as she faced death. She was a changed

woman who had transformed her suffering into a

force for good. Amid so much poverty, despair, and

cruelty, she was a radiant example of the power of

God's love and the strength of the human

spirit.

Uncle Dev and his missionary team have developed a

number of methods for convincing Mumbai's sex

slaves to leave their dangerous situations. They

provide child care and schools so that kids can learn

about Jesus and His love for them. The kids then tell

their mothers that they too are loved and that they

can move to a better life. I encourage you to embrace

change that elevates your life and to be a force for

change that uplifts the lives of others too.

CHAPTER NINE

Trust Others, More Or Less

When I was eleven years old, my parents took me to

the beach on Australia's Gold Coast. My mum and

dad walked down the coast a bit, and I was just

chillin' in the sand near the edge of the water,

watching the waves and basking in the breeze. I

covered up with an oversize T-shirt so I wouldn't get

sunburned.

A young woman came walking along the beach, and

as she approached, she smiled and said, "That's quite

impressive!"

"What do you mean?" I asked, knowing that she

wasn't referring to my huge biceps.

"How long did it take you to bury your legs like that?"

she said. I realized that she thought I'd hidden my

legs in the sand somehow. Feeling mischievous, I

played along. "Oh, I had to dig such a long time," I

said.

She laughed and strolled by, but I knew she could not

resist a second look so I waited. Sure enough, just as

her head swiveled for a parting glance, I popped up

and hopped toward the water.

She didn't say anything, though she stumbled a bit as

she scurried down the beach.

Sometimes as a boy I resented such moments, but

eventually I came to be more patient and under-

standing of others. Like that woman, I've learned

that sometimes there is more to people than you first

suspect, and sometimes there is less.

The art of reading people, relating to them, engaging

with them, and stepping into their shoes, knowing

whom to trust and how to be trustworthy is critical to

your success and happiness. Few people succeed

without the ability to build relationships based on

mutual understanding and trust. We all need not just

someone to love but also friends, mentors, role

models, and supporters who buy into our dreams

and help us achieve them.

To build your Dream Team of supporters who have

your best interests at heart, you must first prove

yourself trustworthy by standing up for them. Your

mates will treat you the way you treat them. If you

invest in their success, support them, encourage

them, and give them your honest feedback, you can

expect them to do the same for you. If they don't, you

should move on and find someone who wants to be

on your team.

We are social by nature, but if your relationships

aren't what you'd like them to be, you may not be

giving enough thought to how you interact with

others and what you put in and take out of your

relationships. One of the biggest mistakes you can

make is to try and win friends only by telling them

about yourself: your fears, frustrations, and

pleasures. The truth is that you win friends by

learning about them and finding shared interests to

build bonds that provide mutual benefits.

Building a relationship is like building a savings

account; you can't expect to take anything out of it if

you haven't put something into it. We all need to tune

up our relationship skills from time to time by

evaluating our approach to them and looking at what

is working and what is not.

HOW DO YOU RELATE TO OTHERS?

A strong sense of purpose, high hopes, abiding faith,

self-love a positive attitude, fearlessness, resilience,

and mastery of change will take you a long way, but

no one makes it alone. To be sure I value my ability

to take care of myself. I worked hard to become as

independent as possible. But I am still dependent on

the people around me, just as we all are to a great

degree.

Often I am asked, "Isn't it hard to rely so much on

others?" And my response is, "You tell me." Whether you acknowledge it or not, you depend on those

around you nearly as much as I do. Some tasks I

need help managing, but no one on this earth

succeeds without benefiting from the wisdom, the

kindness, or the helping hands of someone else.

We all need supportive relationships. We all must

engage with kindred spirits. To do that effectively, we

must build trust and prove ourselves trustworthy.

We must understand that most people instinctively

act out of self-interest, but if you show them that you

are interested in them and invested in their success,

most will do the same for you.

MAKING CONNECTIONS

When I was a boy, my mum often took me shopping

or to other public places, and while she went about

her business, I'd spend hours observing faces in the

crowd from my wheelchair. I'd study them as they

passed by and try to guess what they did for a living

and what their personalities were like. Of course, I

never knew whether my instant profiles were

correct, but I did become a serious student of body

language, facial expressions, and reading people in

general.

This was mostly a subconscious process, but when I

look back and reflect, I realize I was instinctively

developing some very important skills. Since I lack

the arms to defend myself, or the legs to run, it was

important for me to quickly assess whether I could

trust someone or not. It's not that I consciously

worried about being attacked, but I was more

vulnerable than most, and so I became more "people

aware" than most.

I'm sensitive to the moods, emotions, and sounds of

those around me. This may sound a little strange, but

my antennae are so finely tuned that when someone

puts a hand on my wheelchair armrest, it's almost

like we are holding hands. I get this weird feeling

that a physical connection has been made, just as if

we were shaking or holding hands. Whenever my

friends or family members put their hands on my

chair, I feel this warmth and acceptance.

My lack of limbs has affected the way I relate to

people as a professional speaker. I don't have to

worry about one of the primary concerns of most

speakers—what to do with my hands. I've worked on

communicating with my facial expressions, and

especially my eyes, rather than my hands. I can't

make gestures to emphasize points or convey

emotion. I worked at varying the width of my eyes

and changing my facial expressions to convey

emotions, and to hold the attention of my audiences.

My sister recently teased me: "Nick, you really do

love eye contact. When you speak to someone, you

look into their eyes with this intensity. That's the only

way I can describe it."

Michelle knows me well. I look into the eyes of other

people because they are windows to the soul. I love

eye contact. I admire the beauty of people, and I find

it, often, in their eyes. We can all find something bad

or imperfect in others, but I choose to look at the gold

within them.

"It's also your way of keeping the conversation real

and sincere," my little sister said. "I can see it when you talk to my friends. You get straight to the core of

the person, and you capture their attention so that

they soak up every word you tell them."

I've learned to engage quickly by looking into the

eyes of the people I meet and asking questions or

making comments to find a common ground. Before

back pains limited my huggability, one of my favorite

ice breakers was to say, "Come and give me a hug."

By inviting people to come close and make contact, I

hoped to make them feel comfortable with me.

Reaching out to others, bonding with them, finding a

common ground are relationship skills that everyone

should master. They determine how well we interact

with those around us.

SKILL SETS

"People skills" is a widely used term but is rarely well defined. We all like to think we have great people

skills, just like most of us are under the illusion that

we are great drivers. My brother teases that I'm the

world's worst backseat driver even though I've never

had a legal driver's license. According to him, my

people skills are a work in progress. Yours should be

a work in progress too.

No one should take for granted skills that are critical

to success and happiness. You can live a life without

limits, but you can't live a life without trusting

relationships. That is why you should always self-

monitor, assess, and work to develop and refine the

ways in which you engage with those around you.

Psychologists say that our ability to build bonds of

trust and mutually supportive relationships depends

on a few primary people skills. These include the

ability to:

• Read emotions and moods

• Listen attentively to what others say and how they

say it

• Assess, comprehend, and react to nonverbal signals

from others

• Navigate any social setting or gathering

• Bond quickly with others

• Turn on the charm in any situation

• Practice tact and self-control

• Demonstrate care for others with actions

Now let's look at each of those basic people skills in

more detail.

TAKING A READ

Reading body language, tone of voice, facial

expressions, and the look in someone's eyes is a skill

we all have to some degree. We really can't help but

pick up these signals. Most people can even tell when

someone is pretending to be angry but isn't, or is

faking pain just for attention. Psychologists say this

skill improves as we age, and women are generally

better at it than men. I wasn't surprised to learn that

women with children are especially good at it. My

mum could read me like a book. She often seemed to

know before I did when I felt sick, hurt, frustrated, or

sad.

LISTENING TO UNDERSTAND

This is what your parents were talking about when

they said "God gave you just one mouth but He gave

you two ears, so you should listen twice as much as

you speak." Too often we don't listen to understand.

Instead, we listen just enough so we can respond. To

really connect, you have to take into account the

feeling behind the words, not just the words

themselves. I'm no relationship expert, but I've seen

my fellow men struggle with this. Women are known

to be more intuitive and can become frustrated with

men, who tend to be more literal. They tune in to the

words rather than the emotions.

GET IT AND GO WITH IT

It's one thing to listen and observe carefully, but it's

even more important to take what you hear and

observe, accurately assess it, and then act upon it.

The people who do this well tend to have the best

relationships and to be high achievers in their work.

It can also be an important survival skill. The New

York Times reported a story about two American

soldiers on patrol in Iraq who saw a parked car with

two young boys inside. The windows were rolled up

even though it was 120 degrees outside. One of the

soldiers asked the other, his patrol sergeant, if he

could offer the boys some water and took steps

toward the car.

The sergeant looked at the entire scene around them

and sensed danger. He ordered the patrol to fall

back. Just as his soldier turned around, a bomb

exploded inside the car. The two boys were killed.

The soldier who wanted to help them was hit by

shrapnel but survived.

Later the sergeant would recall that when he saw his

soldier move toward the car, "My body got cooler;

you know that danger feeling." Other subtle clues

had tweaked his antennae earlier. No shots had been

fired at them that morning, which was unusual, and

overall the streets had been quieter than they were

on a typical day.

Studies of veteran soldiers have shown how they rely

on their ability to quickly read and interpret their

surroundings based on sensations, body language, or

anomalies that "just don't fit." This is critical not just for relationships but for survival, for them and for

us.

WORK THE ROOM

Knowing how to act appropriately and fit in—

whether at a church social, a private country club, an

employee picnic, or a simple dinner—is another

important people skill. You have to respect

where you are. When visiting foreign lands, I often

ask my host or interpreter to help me understand

local customs and traditions so that I don't make a

mistake that alienates my audience.

There are certain actions you do while dining at

home that you should never do during meals in

certain countries. In most places belching is

considered the height of rudeness, but in some

places a good raucous burp is considered a

compliment to the chef. On a more serious note,

there are topics you should avoid in certain settings.

Mentioning old conflicts, politics, and in some cases,

even religion can only lead to trouble.

But you can always find common ground for

engaging with others. As I've matured, I've learned

that listening is the most valuable skill for engaging

others, especially when you are "working the room"

in a large crowd.

BOND ABILITY

We bond with others not just through words but

through our expressions and body language, which

includes how we position ourselves in relation to

others. We often aren't aware of our positioning until

someone who is spatially impaired invades our

personal space. Close talkers, for example, may be

trying to bond, but they tend to send people fleeing.

It's a difficult line to judge, because we welcome

some people into our personal space more than

others. A friend once shot me a look of utter panic at

a party because he'd been backed into a corner by

four people vying for his attention. They towered

over him, and he looked a bit like a fox cornered by

the hounds.

CHARISMA CAMPAIGN

I don't have a problem capturing anyone's attention,

but holding on to it is another challenge altogether.

When I meet people, they are intrigued by my body

but not always comfortable looking at it. I have just a

few seconds to overcome that by turning on the

charm. With kids and teens especially, I'll make jokes

about "lending a hand" or something costing me "an arm and a leg," so they can see that I've heard all the

comments and that I can laugh along with them. I

think the real secret to charisma is making each

person you meet feel that they have your complete

attention when they speak to you.

TACTICAL UNIT

We all tend to think we are tactful and thoughtful of

other people, but I know I sometimes fall short. My

brother loves to remind me that I bossed him around

when we were younger. Aaron had to put up with a

lot. Even when my parents were both home, he

served as my caregiver because we were always

together. He'll tell you that I could get a little crazy

with my demands. One morning, for example, his

friend Phil visited us. He walked into the kitchen at

breakfast time, so I asked Aaron and Phil if they

wanted some bacon and eggs.

"Sure, thanks, Nick!" Phil said.

I set about fixing him bacon and eggs. I did this by

yelling, "Okay, Aaron, can you get me some eggs, and

I also need you to fetch the pan. Oh, and put the pan

on the stove. Crack the eggs in the pan, and I'll take

over once they're cooked."

As Aaron got older and bigger, he found a way to deal

with my bossy ways. Whenever he decided that I was

being too demanding, he'd threaten to put me in a

cabinet drawer, shut it, and leave me there. So I had

to develop tactful people skills, or I would have been

filed away forever!

WALK THE TALK

We've all heard of those who "talk the talk but don't

walk the walk." You can be a great listener, a highly

empathetic, engaging, charming, and tactful person,

but if you don't step up and reach out to other people

when the situation requires it, then all your other

skills are meaningless. Just saying "I feel for you"

doesn't cover it. Your actions speak louder than your

words.

In your work relationships, this means not only

doing your job and striving to be successful but

helping others do their jobs and supporting them in

their efforts to succeed.

TUNING IN

To master these people skills, you must place your

own self-interests, concerns, and agendas on hold

and dial in to those around you. It's not about being

the center of attention or the funniest person in the

room; it's about engaging with other people on their

terms and making them comfortable enough to

invite you into their lives.

The depth of our relationships varies from those we

engage with briefly (store clerks, waitresses, the

mailman, the guy next to you on the plane) to those

we interact with regularly (neighbors, coworkers,

customers, and clients), and finally to people who are

a big part of our lives (our best friends, spouses, and

family members). Each level requires people skills of

some sort, the ability to relate to and interact in

harmony with others.

HELPING HANDS

There is one more people skill that is often disdained

or overlooked, but one I'm quite familiar with: the

willingness and the humility to ask for help when

you need it. Jesus, the son of God, rarely walked

alone on this earth. He was usually in the company

of one or more of his disciples. You should never feel

that you have to go it alone. Asking for help is not a

sign of weakness. It is a sign of strength. The Bible

says, "Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you

will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.

For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds;

and to him who knocks, the door shall be opened."

A few years ago my heavy travel schedule led me to

decide to return to using caregivers, which is

something I tried to avoid for a long time. When I

was younger, I wanted to prove that I could survive

day by day without depending on other people. Being

independent was important to me. I needed to know,

for my own peace of mind and my self-esteem, that I

could live on my own if necessary.

But as my public speaking career took off and

invitations to speak came from all over the globe, I

realized that I was burning up too much energy

taking care of myself, especially on the road. To

speak to as many people in as many different places

as I do, you have to be fully engaged and full of

energy. I went back to employing caregivers even

though someday, down the road, I hope to have a

wife and family and again be independent.

When you have a caregiver, lacking people skills is

not an option. Even if their pay is good, you can't

expect someone to feed you, travel with you, shave

you, dress you, and sometimes carry you around if

they don't like you. Luckily, I've always had good

relationships with mine—though they've sometimes

been put to the test. I did not have a full-time

caregiver until 2005, when Craig Blackburn, who'd

been inspired by my speaking and testimony in

church, contacted me. He offered to work as my

caregiver, driver, and coordinator for a three-week

speaking tour along the sunny Queensland coast. I

was a little nervous about doing the tour with

someone I didn't know well, but I prayed on it,

checked his credentials, and decided I could trust

him. Craig proved to be very helpful, allowing me to

save my energies for my speaking and other duties.

In my determined effort to prove my independence

while also building a career that required intense

travel, I'd been too proud to ask for help, even when

it made sense to do so. You shouldn't make the same

mistake. Know your limitations. Protect your health

and sanity by doing what is only human: reaching

out when conditions call for it. But remember, to ask

something of friends or co-workers is rude unless

you've shown interest and consideration for them.

No one owes you anything more than you have given

to them.

A few of my caregivers have been friends, family

members, and volunteers over the years, but most

are paid to assist me because the job is demanding,

given my hectic schedule. I began using caregivers

more and more while traveling in the United States

in 2006. A fellow named George had volunteered to

serve as my driver and caregiver on that tour, but he

showed up driving a wreck of a little car that was

loud and stinky and, to my astonishment, had a

gaping hole in the floor! It was a bit of a shock. I had

visions of falling through and being flattened by a

trailing truck. I never felt entirely safe in that car,

but George proved to be a loyal supporter and a great

caregiver.

One of my current caregivers, Bryan, was put to the

ultimate test during my European speaking tour in

the summer of 2008. We'd been traveling nonstop for

about a week when we arrived for a one-night stay at

a hotel in Timisoara, Romania, a beautiful city

known as "Little Vienna," in the Transylvanian Alps.

I'd always heard that this was a spooky corner of the

planet, and my suspicions were confirmed.

Dead tired from lack of sleep, I was too weary to fret.

This was the first night on the long tour where I was

scheduled to catch some serious rest. Since I'd been

having trouble sleeping, Bryan offered me a

melatonin capsule, which is supposed to help your

body deal with jet lag.

At first, I told him I'd better not take it. Because of my

low body weight, I sometimes have strange reactions

to supplements. Bryan convinced me it was safe, and

just to be cautious, I took only a half-dose. Luckily I

didn't swallow the entire capsule. I fell into a deep

sleep right away.

On some tours I become overtired, and despite the

tremendous effort it takes for me to sit up in bed, I'll

do just that in my sleep, and then I'll begin speaking

as if I'm addressing an audience. On this night I woke

up Bryan in the next room because I was preaching!

In Serbian!

Bryan woke me up before I roused all of Romania

with my sleep-sermonizing, and we both realized

then that we were sweating like crazy. We'd been

cooking in the summer heat because while we slept,

the room air conditioner had shut down. Naturally,

we opened the windows to allow some fresh air to

flow into our rooms. Then, bone-tired, we returned

to our beds.

An hour later we again were awakened; this time we

were being eaten alive by huge Transylvanian

mosquitoes. (At least we hoped they were

mosquitoes!) At that point I was dead tired,

overheated, itching all over my body, and—a special

bonus—lacking the usual scratching tools. It was

torture!

At Bryan's suggestion, I took a shower to relieve the

itching. Then he sprayed my swollen bug bites with

an anti-itching first aid remedy. I returned to my bed,

but ten minutes later I was hollering for Bryan again.

My poor body was on fire! I'd had an allergic

reaction to the anti-itching spray.

He scrambled to haul me into the shower again, and

in the process he slipped, fell, and banged his head

on the toilet, nearly knocking himself out! Exhausted,

we just wanted to sleep, but our night of horrors was

not yet over. With the air conditioner out, the room

was just too hot. By this time I wasn't thinking Like a

sane person, so I told Bryan to lend me a pillow.

"The air conditioner is working in the hallway, so I'm

sleeping out there," I told my baffled caregiver.

Bryan didn't have the strength to argue with me. He

collapsed on his bed, and I crashed just outside the

room, leaving the door open so he could hear me if I

needed help. We snoozed like that for an hour or two

before a total stranger stepped over me, marched

into the room, and berated poor Bryan in broken

English.

He ranted on for several minutes before we figured

out that our intruder was furious because he thought

Bryan had thrown me out in the hallway to sleep on

the floor! We had a tough time convincing this

would-be Good Samaritan that I was sleeping in the

corridor by choice.

Once the stranger left, I crawled back into my bed.

Bryan returned to his. But just as we finally drifted

off to sleep, Bryan's cell phone rang. When he

answered, a verbal blast pounded his ear. It was the

coordinator of our speaking tour. Evidently our well-

meaning intruder had not been convinced. He'd

reported to hotel security that I'd been left in the

hallway all night, and they'd raised heck with our

coordinator, who was threatening to have poor Bryan

tarred and feathered.

Now you can see why I normally employ three

caregivers who rotate on shifts seven days a week.

Bryan and I can laugh about our nightmarish night

in Transylvania now, but it took several nights of

sleeping in cool rooms, without bugs, to get over it.

One of the lessons I had to learn early in life was that

it's okay to ask for help. Whether you've got all the

standard body parts or not, there will be times when

you simply can't go it alone. Yes, humility is a people

skill and a God-given gift.

You have to be humble to ask others for help,

whether it's a caregiver, a mentor, a role model, or a

family member. When someone is humble enough to

reach out for assistance, most people respond by

giving of themselves and their time. If you act as

though you have all the answers and don't need

anyone else, you are less likely to attract support.

PANTLESS AND SPEECHLESS

As a child I was taught that all honor goes to God,

and as a man I've come to realize that whatever good

I accomplish is done not by me but through me. It

seems God believes I need a lesson in humility now

and then so that I never lose my ability to engage and

bond with others. Sometimes those lessons are hard.

Sometimes they are hilarious.

I was still living in Australia in 2002 when my cousin

Nathan Poljak accompanied me to the United States

to speak at a church camp. We arrived the night

before the engagement and were seriously jet-lagged

by the long flight. We overslept.

I was scheduled to rise early to teach a Bible class,

but no one had the heart to wake me. I rose from my

coma just about fifteen minutes before the class was

to start. We were staying nearby, so I thought we

could still make it. We rushed to the camp, but when

we arrived, I realized I had to use the restroom. Now,

believe it or not, that's something I can usually do on

my own. I will never give away my secret techniques,

but replacing zippers with Velcro proved to be a big

help. Nathan offered to assist me because we were in

such a hurry. He carried me into a public restroom

stall and set me up to do my business.

Once I'd finished, Nathan came in to help me close

up shop, and as we were completing the process, he

dropped my shorts into the toilet bowl! We froze in

horror with our mouths gaping as my dignity

disappeared in a slow-motion whirlpool. There I

stood, pant-less and overdue for my Bible school

lecture. I stared in horror at my cousin. He mirrored

my shock. And then we both set to laughing like two

loons of the loo. We couldn't even fish my pants out

because we were yucking it up so wildly, and our

ineptitude made us even sillier with glee. Nathan has

the most infectious laugh, and when he starts in, I

can't help myself. I'm sure people standing outside

the restroom wondered what was so hilarious in stall

number three.

My cousins and brother and sister helped me learn to

laugh when I find myself in ridiculous situations, and

this was certainly one of them. They've also taught

me to lean on those willing to help and to ask for

assistance when I'm feeling overwhelmed. I

encourage you to do the same.

THE HAND-OFF

My caregivers have been terrific over the years, and

I'm fortunate to have them stay in my life as friends

after they've moved on to new work. Nearly all

actually start out as friends or people I've met while

speaking, then come to work with me. There is

always a break-in period, of sorts, and often it's quite

amusing.

People who've been with me awhile often say they

quickly forget about my missing parts and my

disability becomes irrelevant. That's great, all well

and good, except when the person happens to be my

caregiver. I can't tell you how many times I've asked

a rookie caregiver to give me a drink of water and

he'll try to hand me a glass. There is always this

moment of pause with his hand extended, holding

the glass in the air and waiting for me to take it. Then

there follows a sudden rush of blood from the face of

the caregiver as he realizes, Oh my God! I just tried to

hand a glass of water to a guy with no arms! What

was I thinking!

"It's okay," I tell them. "I'm used to it."

Chances are you don't need a trained person to be

there for you twenty-four hours a day, seven days a

week. But we all need caregivers of some sort,

someone to share ideas with, someone who will

always give us honest advice, or someone who serves

as an encourager, mentor, or role model.

It takes humility and courage to admit that you don't

know everything or that you could use a hand. I

mentioned earlier that when you have a sense of

purpose and have committed to pursuing your

dreams, you will always have a few detractors.

Fortunately others will also appear—sometimes

where you least expect it—to give you a boost, or to

offer guidance. You should be ready for them

because bonding with them can change your life.

There are three types of guides whose relationships

have impacted my life: Mentors, Role Models, and

Fellow Travelers.

Mentors are people who've been where you want to

go, but they are also supporters and encouragers

who share your dreams and truly want you to

succeed. Your parents are natural mentors, but if you

are lucky you will find others willing to step up in

that role throughout your life. One of my earliest was

my mother's brother, my uncle Sam Radojevic, who

still lives in Australia with his great wife and

wonderful children. He has the heart of an

entrepreneur, the ingenuity of an inventor, and the

vision of an explorer. Uncle Sam is always open to

new experiences, and when I was young he

encouraged me to take wing. He told me that the only

true obstacles in life are those we make for

ourselves. His guidance and support gave me the

courage to expand my vision.

I've known many people who carry the burden of

regret throughout their lives, but Uncle Sam has

never been one to look back. Even when he makes

mistakes, he always pushes forward to the next

opportunity with the irrepressible spirit of a child in

love with life.

He loves to design and build motorcycles and

bicycles, but he doesn't just do it for himself. He

helped the government of Victoria start a program in

which prisoners repair and restore old bicycles

for disadvantaged children and adults who couldn't

otherwise afford a bicycle. Thousands of bikes have

gone out to the needy because of that program.

Uncle Sam encourages me to likewise keep looking

ahead, and he has always believed in me even when I

didn't believe in myself. I was thirteen when he told

me, "Nicholas, you will shake the hands of

presidents, kings, and queens someday." He believed

even then that God had a big plan for me. What a

great person to have as a mentor!

I encourage you to reach out for your own mentors.

But understand that true mentors aren't just

cheerleaders—they will tell you when they think you

are wandering off course. You have to be willing to

listen to their criticisms as well as their praise,

knowing that they have your best interests at heart.

I also looked up to my cousin Duncan Jurisic. When I

was a child, I'd often be afraid to inconvenience

someone to take me to the loo, so he helped me come

up with a line to remember. He said, "When you

need to go, just let someone know." Not only did he

and my other Vujicic cousins continue to love and

support me, but Duncan and his mother, Danilka,

helped me overcome my fears in the early days of my

speaking career. Their family, who ran the

Australian Hospitality Group in Melbourne, offered

me their wise and valuable guidance.

Role Models have been where you want to go, but

they aren't usually as close to you as mentors.

Usually you watch them from afar, study their

moves, read their books, and follow their careers as

models for your own. Often these are celebrated

figures in your field, people whose success has made

them famous and respected. One of my long-term

role models whom I've always wanted to meet is the

Reverend Billy Graham. He has lived the words from

Mark 16:15 that also are my inspiration: "Go into all

the world and preach the Gospel to every creature."

There has to be a place somewhere between mentors

and role models for folks like Vic and Elsie Schlatter,

whom I've visited at least once a year nearly every

year of my life. They always inspire me to be a better

Christian and a better person. They live in Australia,

but they have planted more than sixty-five churches

and missions in far-flung corners of the South

Pacific. They are my models for making a difference

as missionaries. They work quietly, without a lot of

publicity, and they never puff themselves up, but

they've made a world of difference for many, many

souls.

As a teen Elsie had a vision of Jesus standing before

her instructing her to "go." Elsie took that to mean

that God wanted her to do missionary work one day.

Vic worked for General Electric at a nuclear plant

after they got married, but he and Elsie also started a

church and began planning their first mission—to

Papua New Guinea, a small tribal nation in the South

Pacific that had very little exposure to Christianity.

Small though the nation was, its three million people

were dauntingly diverse, speaking more than seven

hundred dialects.

Vic and Elsie fell in love with that part of the world,

and they now live on the north coast of Australia.

From that base they conduct mission work around

the South Pacific. In addition to writing several books

of his own on religion, Vic has translated the

Scriptures into pidgeon English and other dialects for

the indigenous tribes he and Elsie serve.

Identifying a Fellow Traveler is a bit tough for me

because my life has followed a rather uncon-

ventional path. Fellow travelers are usually peers, co-

workers, and others with similar goals to yours, who

are walking on a parallel road. They might even be

rivals, but friendly rivals. You encourage and support

each other by practicing an abundance mentality

rather than a scarcity mentality.

When you believe in abundance, you believe there

are enough of God's blessings—enough fulfillment,

enough opportunity, enough happiness, and enough

love—out there for everyone. I encourage you to take

that point of view because it opens you up to other

people. If you tend to think of the world as a place of

scarce resources and limited opportunities, then

you'll see fellow travelers as threats who'll take what

is out there and leave nothing for you. Competition

can be healthy because it motivates you, and you will

always find others who want what you want. With an

abundance mentality, you believe there are rewards

enough for everyone, so competition is more about

striving to do your best and encouraging others to do

the same.

An abundance mentality allows you to walk

alongside your fellow travelers with feelings of

camaraderie and mutual support. I learned that in

my friendship with Joni Eareckson Tada, who has

traveled a similar path to mine. As I described

earlier, Joni was a role model for me long before I

knew her; she became a mentor, helping me get

established in the United States; and now she is a

fellow traveler, offering wise counsel and a

sympathetic ear.

Another person who has been there for me in all

sorts of ways is Jackie Davison, who lived around the

corner from my family when I was a teenager. She

was married with young children, but Jackie always

found time to listen to me as I spilled my guts about

whatever was on my mind, good or bad. She was

close enough in age that she was more of a wise

friend than a judgmental adult. I have such love for

her family, and I became an unofficial big brother to

her kids, helping them with their homework or just

hanging out.

Back in 2002, I was having a rough time in my

university studies and in my personal life, and it was

distracting and disorienting. I'd broken up with a

longtime girlfriend and was very emotional. So I

went to Jackie and asked her to help me understand

what had happened. I poured out my heart, but she

sat there with her hands clasped, patiently listening

without responding. Suddenly it hit me that as I was

unloading all this emotional baggage on her, she

wasn't reacting. Finally I stopped and said, "What

should I do? Tell me!" She smiled and her eyes

sparkled as she said simply, "Praise God."

Confused and frustrated, I said, "Praise God for

what?' "Just praise God, Nick."

I stared at the floor thinking, That's all she has to say!

This woman is something else!

Then it hit me that Jackie was telling me to trust in

God and that He hadn't forgotten me. She was telling

me that I should put faith not in the wisdom of man

but in the power of God. She was telling me to

surrender to God and to thank Him, even though I

didn't feel He deserved thanks. She was telling me to

thank God in advance for blessings that would come

of this pain. She has a powerful faith, and she always

reminds me, when I feel confused or hurt, to

surrender to God, because He has a plan for us all.

LIFE GUIDES

These "life guide" relationships are not always easy

going. Your "guides" will give you a reality check or even a kick in the pants. But they care enough to

make you really think about what you are doing,

where you are going, why you are in the game, and

what comes next. You want people like that in your

life.

When I decided to become a public speaker and to

encourage others to have faith, I shared the decision

with my closest friends and family. Some were

concerned, including my parents. The Apostolic

Christian Church that I belong to has dispatched

many missionaries over the years. They've built

orphanages and helped many in need. When I told

my parents that I wanted to speak about my faith to

other denominations in churches around the world,

they had misgivings about my health and concerns

about whether this mission was truly what God

wanted for me.

I listened to them because I knew they wanted me to

be successful. You should do the same when your

own Dream Team offers opinions about your plans,

especially if you want them to remain invested in

your success. Honor them and give careful thought to

their advice and guidance. You don't have to accept

it, but respect that they care enough to tell you even

what you may not want to hear.

I respected my parents' concerns, but I felt God was

calling me to be an evangelist. My mission then was

to be obedient and patient and pray that they'd come

to feel the same way. By God's grace, not only my

parents but also the church accepted my calling. Its

leaders stood behind me and ordained me as the

church's first Minister of Evangelism.

There are no promises or guarantees that everyone

you meet will want to help you. Some may even try

to discourage you. They may have the best intentions

and good reason to be worried. None of my parents'

fears were irrational, but I prayed that their faith

would overcome all those concerns.

Parents and their grown children often must agree to

disagree and move on. The same holds true with

other members of your Dream Team. You may be

proven wrong when you go your own way. You may

be proven right. In the end, being right isn't what's

important.

I am so thankful that my parents and I can respect

each other's opinions and decisions. By God's grace,

our relationship withstood a test, and we emerged

even closer than before because of our deep love and

mutual respect. If we had not talked openly about

our feelings, the outcome might not have been such a

happy one.

I attended my church regularly as my base and did

my best to mentor the young people there. But I also

began to branch out, speaking to other churches,

reaching out to people in a much wider area. I'm

pleased to report that many of the young people have

moved forward in their relationships with God, and I

thank Him for that.

My mum and dad prayed for me and with me on the

day in 2008 when I was officially ordained an

evangelist, and that experience brought us to a new

level of mutual love and respect. My parents knew

that I was committed and dedicated to spreading the

word of God. To have them all pray for me in front of

the entire church congregation was something I'll

never forget. I have to say that my parents are my

strongest supporters, and they were right far more

than they were wrong about the important decisions

in my life.

You should never take relationships for granted,

especially those with your closest family members.

The rewards last a lifetime.

Take time now to evaluate your people skills, the

quality of your relationships, and what you put into

them. Are you trustworthy? Do you trust those

closest to you? Are you attracting people willing to

invest in your success? Are you honoring them? Are

you putting into the relationship as much as you are

taking out?

Each time I'm laughing and enjoying my family, I

realize how much I live for such moments. My hope

is to somehow convince them that San Diego beaches

are better than Australian beaches so that I can

always have them near. Hold your loved ones as

close as you can, as long as you can.

The quality of your relationships has a huge impact

on the quality of your life, so please treat them as

precious. Don't take them for granted. The Bible says,

"Two are better than one, because they have a good

return for their work: If one falls down, his friend

can help him up. But pity the man who falls and has

no one to help him up!"

CHAPTER TEN

An Equal Opportunity Hugger

Joshua and Rebekah Weigel are award-winning

filmmakers in Los Angeles dedicated to making

movies that inspire as well as entertain. I'd never

met them, but after they saw one of my videos, they

were inspired to write a fictional screenplay with me

in mind as the main character. As they were writing

this script, the Weigels were trying to contact me

through various channels, but since I was gadding

about on a speaking tour, they couldn't reach me.

Then one Sunday while they were attending church

in Westlake Village, they ran into an old friend of

theirs named Kyle.

"What are you doing now?" they asked Kyle.

"I'm working as a caregiver for this guy named Nick

Vujicic," he said.

Not surprisingly, Joshua and Rebekah were stunned.

How amazing is that? How often does it happen that

two dedicated filmmakers write a script for someone

they've never met, then seek him out and offer to

make a movie with him? It's fantastic, right? A dream

come true!

Have you ever missed out on a wonderful chance

because you didn't have your act together? Have you

watched in despair as someone else ran through a

door that you failed to see was open? Learn from

those experiences, and buck up, mate! Walter

Chrysler, founder of the Chrysler automotive

company, once said that the reason so many people

never get anywhere in life is that when opportunity

knocks, they are out in the backyard looking for four-

leaf clovers. Today I see people buying lottery tickets

instead of investing in their futures. Invest in your

future by preparing with hard work, dedicate

yourself to your goals, and then watch for the right

time to make the leap.

If you feel you never get a shot, maybe it's because

you aren't locked, loaded, and ready to fire. You are

responsible for your own success. Take on that

responsibility by preparing yourself to do your best.

When you get to the right place, the breaks will

come. If you have a chip on your shoulder, or you're

hosting a pity party, don't expect an invitation to the

dance. Believe in yourself (have I mentioned this

already?). Believe in the possibilities for your life.

Believe in your value on this planet. If you don't feel

worthy of wings, you'll never get off the ground.

Break a sweat. Get your hands dirty. Hit the books.

Thomas Edison said opportunities are often missed

because they are dressed in overalls and look like

work. Are you ready to do whatever it takes?

I have to confess that when the Weigels first

contacted me, I wasn't paying attention. Poor Kyle

was so excited for me. He tried to tell me about his

friends the filmmakers and the project they had

for me. "I have some friends who have a movie idea

for you—" was all he had a chance to say before I cut

him off.

"Kyle, I'm too busy to talk to your friends right now,"

I said crankily.

I'd been traveling a great deal and was edgy and

tired. Oddly enough, I'd recently been burned by

another movie proposition. After hearing just a basic

outline of it (a feature-length film!), I'd been excited

about it for months. Then they sent me the script. It

turned out, the producers wanted me to portray a

foul-mouthed, tobacco-chewing character who

spends most of the movie getting lugged around in a

potato sack slung over someone's back.

That was not the sort of role I wanted to begin my

movie career, or end it, So I said no. Not every

chance is worth taking. You have to be true to your

values, incorporating them into your long-term goals.

What mark do you wish to make? How do you want

to be remembered? I didn't want my grandchildren

to one day discover a DVD of a movie in which

Grandpa Nick curses, drools tobacco juice down his

chin, and lives like a degenerate. So I said thanks but

no thanks to that first movie offer.

I loved the idea of making a movie, but I wasn't

willing to abandon my values to do it. You may have

to make a similar decision. Stay strong. Stick with

your principles, but don't make the mistake I made:

when I closed that first door, I also closed my mind.

That's why I shot down good old Kyle without a

second thought when he cheerfully brought the

Weigels' film project to me. I didn't see the future

because I was looking in the rearview mirror. Big

mistake.

Fortunately, the Weigels were not easily discouraged.

They asked another friend to contact my media

director. He read their screenplay, loved it, and

brought it to me. Upon reading it, I realized Kyle

deserved an apology. The Weigels' screenplay was

about hope and redemption, subjects close to my

heart.

And who better to star in a film short than me?

Especially since the character they'd created for me

was "Will the Limbless Man." As the movie begins, he

is a snarly and depressed "freak" in a ragtag circus

sideshow. Then, thanks to the kindness of others,

Will is invited to join a far more benevolent circus

troupe, where he becomes the star of a thrilling high-

dive act.

I realized I'd better get off my "buts" and kick into action. I thanked Kyle and asked him to set up a

meeting with the Weigels. Great events quickly

unfolded. We met. We bonded. And I signed on the

dotted line. My enthusiasm grew when I learned that

a number of much more experienced actors already

had agreed to take roles in the film.

This was a low-budget, fast moving project, so I only

had to clear a week's time on my schedule to

complete my scenes. You will have to check the

reviews to decide whether I have a future in show

business, but The Butterfly Circus won the $100,000

grand prize at the Doorpost Film Project, which

supports filmmakers who make hopeful films. Our

little movie (which you can find at http://www.

thedoorpost.com) was chosen over one hundred

other short films featuring similar themes. The

Doorpost grand prize brought it a lot of attention,

and the Weigels are considering turning it into a full-

length feature.

I just may dive into that project too. After all, not

many actors can play the role of a limbless man who

dives, swims, and pulls off the perfect Australian

accent!

LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACTION!

To pursue your dreams you have to take action.

Move it or lose it. Act or be acted upon. If you don't

have what you want, consider creating what you

want. God will light the path. Your chance of a

lifetime, the door to your dreams is open. Your path

to a purpose may present itself at any moment. Be

ready for it. Do all you need to do. Learn all you need

to know. If no one comes knocking, beat down a few

doors. One day you'll step into the life you desire.

Be willing to put yourself out there, to embrace the

moment. Earlier in my career, before I got back pain,

I offered after each speech to give a hug to everyone

who wanted one. To my amazement and gratitude,

many lined up to share a word and a little squeeze. I

was amazed because every person I met in those

sessions had something unique to offer, a gift that I

could take away. You need to feel the same way about

opportunities. Even those that may not seem golden

at first may shine once you've stepped up.

MAKE A BREAK

Even after you've built a powerful purpose and have

developed huge reservoirs of hope, faith, self-esteem,

positive attitudes, courage, resilience, adaptability,

and good relationships, you can't just sit around and

wait for a break. You have to seize upon every thread

and weave a rope you can climb. Sometimes you'll

even find that the boulder that fell and blocked your

path left an opening that takes you to a higher place.

But you have to have the courage and the

determination to make the ascent.

One of our mottos at Life Without Limbs is "Another

day, another opportunity." We don't simply have our

slogan framed on a wall—we try to live it every day

Dr. Cara Barker, a psychologist and leadership coach,

picked up on this when she wrote in a Huffington

Post blog: "Nick Vujicic demonstrates that it's

possible to awaken the heart, giving inspiration to

others through a situation that nearly everyone on

this Earth would find debilitating. A hero, Vujicic

finds opportunity where most would find a dead

end."

I'm humbled by her words. Growing up, it was often

difficult for me to ever imagine myself being called a

hero or an inspiration to anyone. I realized as a child

that being angry about what I didn't have or

frustrated about what I couldn't do only pushed

people away from me, but when I looked for

opportunities to serve others, they were drawn to

me. I've learned not to wait around but to push

ahead and make my own breaks because one always

seems to lead to another. Every time I give a speech,

attend an event, or visit a new part of the world, I

meet people, learn about new organizations, and

gather information that opens new opportunities

down the road.

BLESSINGS IN DISGUISE

Dr. Barker correctly notes that once I switched my

focus from my physical challenges to the blessings

they presented, my life changed dramatically for the

better. You can do the same. If I can recognize that

the body God gave me is in many ways a great and

wondrous gift, can you acknowledge that your own

blessings may also be in disguise, perhaps even

dwelling within an aspect of yourself that you see as

your greatest weakness?

It's all about perspective. There is no hiding from life.

You will take some hits. Unless you are blasted so

hard you go into a coma, you will become frustrated,

angry, and sad: Been there, done that. Still, I urge you

to reject despair and bitterness. You can be buried by

a giant wave, or you can ride it into shore. In the

same way, challenging events in your life can push

you down or lift you up. If you can breathe, be

grateful. Use that gratitude to rise above depression

and bitterness. Take one step, then another, build

momentum, and create a life you love.

My physical handicap forced me to be bold and to

speak to adults and other kids and to interact. And

because of it I focused on my strengths in math-

ematics, so I always had a fallback profession if my

speaking didn't work out. I've often thought that

even some of the heartbreak I've endured because of

my disability has benefited me by making me more

compassionate toward others. In the same way, the

failures I've experienced have made me much more

appreciative of my successes and much more

sympathetic to others who struggle and fail.

TAKING MEASURE

Not all opportunities are equal. At the beginning of

this chapter, I wrote about embracing my first movie

role, after turning down that earlier offer.

Now if you watch The Butterfly Circus, you will see

that Will, my character, at the beginning of the movie

isn't exactly an inspiring bloke. In fact, he's a bit

repulsive because of the bitterness and despair he

harbors in his heart. But I accepted this role because

Will undergoes a transformation and overcomes his

misery and resentment. Like a prickly caterpillar

who transforms into a soaring butterfly, Will slowly

sheds his suspicions and distrust and becomes a

redeemed, loving, and inspiring person.

That's how I want to be known on this planet. How

do you want to be known? In earlier chapters, we

looked at the importance of having a purpose. When

offers and breaks come your way, or when you

create them for yourself, you must always ask

yourself, Does this match up with my purpose and

my values!

What qualifies as a good opportunity? Anything that

takes you another step closer to your dream. There

are other types, of course. Perhaps your friends

invited you to go out and get wasted last night. Or

maybe you played video games instead of preparing

for a meeting at work or reading a book to sharpen

your skills. The choices you make determine the

quality of the life you lead.

Be thoughtful. Develop high standards and strict

criteria for evaluating how you invest your time and

energy. Base your choices not on what feels good in

the moment but on what best serves your ultimate

goals. Measure them according to your values and

principles. I use the Grandpa Nick rule: Will my

grandkids be proud of this decision, or will they

think their grandpappy was senile before his time!

If you need to create a disciplined, formal process for

assessing opportunities, sit down at your computer

or with a pen and paper and create an Assessment

Worksheet. For every opportunity that comes your

way, write down the pros and cons and evaluate how

each measures up to the values, principles, and goals

you've chosen for your life. Then try to envision what

will happen if you walk through the door, and what

will happen if you close it instead.

If you still have trouble making a decision, take your

worksheet to a trusted mentor, or a friend who

believes in you and wants you to succeed. Talk

through the pros and cons with them, and listen to

their evaluation. Be open-minded, but also know that

the responsibility is all yours. It's your life. You will

reap the rewards or pay the price for your own

decisions, so choose wisely.

ARE YOU READY?

Timing is another consideration when making these

assessments. Sometimes, especially when you are

young, tempting offers present themselves, but the

timing may be off. You don't want to accept a job that

you aren't qualified for or prepared to master, just as

you shouldn't rush off on a luxury vacation you can't

afford. The cost is too high. It will take you too long

to recover.

One of the biggest mistakes I made early in my public

speaking career was accepting an invitation to

address a large audience before I'd really prepared

for such a thing. It wasn't that I had nothing to say, I

just hadn't organized my material or honed my

presentation. As a result, I lacked the self-confidence

to pull it off.

I stuttered and stammered through that speech.

People were kind to me, but I had blown it. But I

learned from the experience, recovered, and realized

that I should seize only those moments that I am

fully prepared to handle. That's not to say that you

shouldn't jump on an offer or an option that forces

you to stretch and grow. Sometimes we're more

prepared than we realize, so God gives us a nudge

that allows us to rise to the occasion and take a giant

step toward our dreams. American Idol, the hit

television show, is built on that concept. In each

episode, many of the young contestants crack under

the pressure, or realize that they simply aren't ready

for stardom. But now and then a raw talent emerges

and blossoms under the intense pressure. A select

few, notably Carrie Underwood, Jennifer Hudson,

Chris Daugherty, and Kelly Clarkson, have launched

wonderful careers because they stretched, grew, and

kept rising.

You need to weigh your options and carefully

consider which stepping-stones will lead you to your

goals, and which might cause you to slip and fall.

Like me and the first movie role I was offered, you

will come across opportunities that would serve a

short-term goal but don't match up to your long-term

objectives. Your decisions today will follow you into

tomorrow. Often young people jump into relation-

ships without considering whether the person is

good for them over the long term. We're often

reminded how security conscious we need to be

when it comes to the Internet, whether it is our

financial selves, our public reputation, or our private

life that we need to protect. We're reminded that

you've got to assume that everything you do—every

photograph and video you appear in, every e-mail

you send, every blog you write, every comment on

your Web page—will show up in a search engine

somewhere at some point and will exist on earth

probably longer than you do. Just as you have to

think carefully about how the things you post online

without thinking can come back to haunt you,

remember that the same is true in our lives when we

evaluate opportunities that come our way. They have

long-term consequences—which can help you or

hurt you. The short-term benefits may look great, but

what will the long-term repercussions be?

Step back and look at the big picture. Remember, you

are often tested, but life itself is not a test. It's the real

deal. The decisions you make every day impact the

quality of your entire life. Assess carefully, then

check your gut and your heart. If your gut tells you

something's a bad idea, go with your gut. But if your

heart tells you to leap at an opportunity—and it is

aligned with your values and long-term goals—make

the leap! There are still times when an offer arises

that gives me goose bumps and I'm so excited that I

want to just dive right in. But then I need to take a

breath and pray for the wisdom to make the right

decision.

THE RIGHT PLACE

If you have prepared yourself to the best of your

ability but no doors have opened for you, then

maybe you need to reposition yourself and your

talents. If your dream is to be a world champion

surfer, chances are Alaska won't offer many big

waves, right? Sometimes you need to make a move to

catch a break. I realized several years ago that if I

wanted to develop a worldwide audience for my

speaking career, I needed to move out of Australia

and to the United States. I love Australia. Most of my

family is still there. But Down Under was too remote

a launching pad and didn't offer the options and the

exposure that I've found in the United States.

Even after coming to the United States, I had to work

to create my own breaks. One of the best moves I

made was to network with others who shared my

passion for speaking and inspiring others. Studies

have shown that most people learn about job

openings through their professional networks of

friends and co-workers. As with most other types of

opportunities, you hear about them on the grapevine

long before other sources have the news. Whether

you are looking for love, a job, an investment, a place

to volunteer, or a venue to share your talents, you

can make your own breaks by joining professional

groups, local clubs, the Chamber of Commerce, or

church, charitable, and service organizations. The

Internet is tailor-made for making helpful

connections, with social networking sites such as

Twitter, Facebook, Linkedln, and Plaxo. The wider

your circle, the greater your chances for finding an

open door to your dream.

You shouldn't limit yourself to just those individuals,

organizations, and Web sites related to your field of

interest. Everybody knows somebody who knows

somebody. So seek out anyone who is passionate and

committed to a dream, even if theirs is entirely

different from yours. I love passionate people

because they attract opportunities like mighty

magnets.

On the other hand, if you are hanging with a crowd

of folks who don't share your dreams, or your

commitment to bettering your life, I'd advise you to

find a new group of friends. Those who hang in bars,

nightclubs, or video arcades rarely soar.

If you aren't attracting the sort of offers and options

you aspire to, maybe you need to find higher ground

through higher education. If you can't win accept-

ance to a college or university, work your way up

through community college or a tech school. More

scholarships and financial aid programs are

available than you might imagine, so don't let the

costs discourage you. If you've already earned a

degree, you may want to upgrade to a master's or

doctorate program, or join professional

organizations, online communities, or Internet

forums and chat rooms for people in your field. If the

breaks aren't coming your way, then you need to get

to the place where they can find you, or you can find

them.

OPPORTUNE TIME

Albert Einstein said that in the middle of every

difficulty lies opportunity. The recent recession has

left millions of people unemployed. Countless others

have lost their homes and their savings. What good

can come of hard times?

Among the major brand companies that started up

during recessions and depressions are Hewlett

Packard, Wrigley, UPS, Microsoft, Symantec, Toys "R"

Us, Zippo, and Domino's Pizza. The founders of these

companies were looking for new and better ways to

serve customers because previous models had failed

during downturns. They seized the moment to create

their own vision for doing business.

Without a doubt, the recession of 2006-9 had a

profound and lingering impact that hurt many, many

families and businesses. But many of the people cast

out by corporations and longtime employers

responded by starting their own businesses, going

back to school for advanced degrees, or finally

pursuing their passion in life, whether it was

opening a bakery, starting a gardening service,

forming a band, or writing a book.

Among those laid off or terminated in the recession

were thousands and thousands of journalists. The

downturn hit their industry especially hard because

it occurred just as newspapers around the world

were losing their lucrative classified ad business to

online services like craigslist. It's been interesting to

see how former journalists, who pride themselves on

their resourcefulness and creativity, have responded.

Several I know have launched new careers in public

relations, nonprofit ventures, and Web-based media

and blogs. One of my favorites is the former editor

who left his shrinking California newspaper and

became vice president of a booming crisis-

management company that crafts "bankruptcy

communications" for other businesses in decline.

This is the Taking Lemons and Making Lemonade

philosophy, which is really all about shifting your

focus from moaning about the problem to finding a

creative solution. You have to be flexible,

determined, and ready to turn a potentially negative

situation into a positive situation. One of the big

American retail chains teaches its sales staff to view

customer complaints as invitations for building

better relationships with store patrons.

It's a matter of reframing. I do it whenever my

schedule hits a snag by reminding myself that "God

does not waste His time, so He doesn't waste mine

either." In other words, it all works out for the good. I

truly believe that, and you should too. When you buy

into that philosophy, stand back. I've seen it proven

true time and time again.

ON THE CLOCK

A few years ago I was flying with my caregiver across

the country. At one airport our flight was delayed (no

surprise), and when we finally were on the plane

and taxiing from the departure gate, I looked out the

window and saw smoke coming from the engine.

A fire truck came roaring up. The firefighters jumped

out and sprayed foam on the engine to put out the

blaze. Due to a small fire in the engine, the

passengers were told, we will be conducting an

emergency evacuation of this plane.

Well, all right, I thought. Fire in the engine was not

good, but being on the ground when the "small fire"

broke out was a plus. When it was announced that

our flight would be delayed another two hours, many

of my fellow passengers complained loudly and

bitterly. I was irritated but glad we had been spared

a possible mid-flight emergency, or so I told myself.

Still, I struggled a bit to remain positive since we

were on a tight schedule. Remember, God doesn't

waste time, I told myself. Then came yet another

announcement: They'd lined up another plane at

another gate to take us immediately. Good news!

We hurried to the new departure gate, boarded yet

another plane, and settled in for the flight. I was

relieved until I noticed that the woman sitting next to

me was quietly weeping.

"Is there something I can do?" I asked.

She explained that she was flying to visit her fifteen-

year-old daughter, who was in danger of dying after

a routine surgery had gone terribly wrong. I did my

best to comfort the mother. We talked for nearly the

entire flight. I even drew a smile from her after she

told me she was nervous about flying.

"You can hold my hand if you like," I teased.

When we landed at our destination, the mother

thanked me for comforting her. I told her I was

grateful that I'd ended up seated next to her on the

plane after so many delays and gate changes.

God had not wasted my time that day. He knew what

he was doing. He put me next to that woman to help

her with her fears and grief. The more I thought

about that day, the more grateful I was for the

chance to offer this woman a sympathetic ear.

CREATIVE VISION

A lost loved one, a broken relationship, a financial

setback, or an illness can break you if you let grief

and despair overtake you. One way to fight through

those challenges is to stay alert for what rises up

even when life seems to be taking you down.

I met the photographer Glennis Siverson on the set of

The Butterfly Circus. Though she lives in Orlando,

Glennis had come to California to serve as the set

photographer at the invitation of the directors and

her friends the Weigels. Glennis is an award-winning

photographer whose work is commissioned by

magazines, corporations, newspapers, and Web sites.

She also does portrait and nature photography. She

loves photography. It is her passion.

But for more than twenty years, Glennis worked in

the human resources field for big companies. She

lost her "safe and secure" job in the recession.

Glennis took that kick in the pants and used the

forward momentum to pursue her passion. She

became a full-time photographer.

"I decided it was now or never!" she said.

Great story, right? Glennis is a real-life example of

someone who took a potentially negative event and

used it as an opportunity to create an even better life.

Terrific! Wonderful!

But there's more. You see, Glennis, the award-

winning photographer, can hardly see. She is legally

blind.

"Ever since I was a child I have had poor eyesight,"

she said. "I got glasses at age five and my vision kept

getting worse. Then around 1995 I was diagnosed

with corneal disease. The cornea is misshapen and

degenerates. It got to the point that I couldn't see out

of my left eye. Since I had extremely severe

nearsightedness, it was past the threshold to get

Lasik surgery. My only option was a cornea

transplant."

In 2004 Glennis underwent that surgery. Her doctor

had told her that it would correct the vision in her

left eye to 20/40 without glasses or contacts. "But

everything that could go wrong pretty much did—

short of losing my eye," she said. "The operation

made my vision worse. I also got glaucoma as a

result. My vision worsened in my left eye, and then,

unrelated to the operation, I had a hemorrhage on

the retina of my right eye. So I have a blind spot on

it."

Laid off from her job of twenty years, and all but

blinded by failed surgery and a hemorrhaged retina,

Glennis could not be blamed for despairing and

giving up. You might expect her to grow bitter and

angry.

Instead, she was grateful to soar higher and farther.

"I don't think of myself as disabled. I think of myself

as enabled, because being nearly blind has made me

a better photographer," she said.

She can no longer see fine details, but instead of

feeling deprived, she is grateful that she is free not to

obsess about the little things anymore.

"Prior to losing most of my eyesight, if I was doing

portrait photography, I was focused on every strand

of hair and every angle of the person's body. My

work looked stiff because I was so focused on

composition. But now my approach is pretty much a

gut reaction. I feel it. I see it, and I shoot it. My work

is more instinctual, and I interact with people and

surroundings much more.

Glennis said her photographs now are flawed but are

more artful, more compelling. "One gal actually cried

when she saw my images of her because she felt I'd

captured her so well," she said. "I had never moved

anyone emotionally before."

Since she lost much of her eyesight, Glennis has won

ten international awards for her portrait and

landscape photography.

One of her photos was selected from sixteen

thousand entries for an exhibition of just III works.

She's had photos selected for four exhibitions at the

Center for Fine Art Photography in Fort Collins,

Colorado.

Her blindness would never have allowed Glennis to

continue her job in human resources, but many great

artists such as Monet and Beethoven thrived despite

disabilities because they used them as opportunities

to explore their art in new and fresh ways. Grateful,

Glennis told me that her favorite Bible verse is now

"We live by faith, not by sight."

"That literally is my life now. I've had to make

adjustments, sure. I worry about being totally blind.

It's been very, very scary. There is no manual for

this."

She is on a new path, but instead of seeing it as a

disruption in her life, she views it as a gift. "I'd been

very controlling before. Now I try to live day to day

and enjoy each moment," she said. "I also try to be

grateful that I have a roof over my head and I'm alive

and the sun is shining and I don't worry about

tomorrow because we never know what tomorrow

will bring."

Glennis is a great lady, who embraces opportunity,

don't you agree? She inspires me, and I hope she

inspires you to look for ways to advance your

dreams, choose them wisely, and then act upon them

when your heart says "go."

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The Ridiculous Rules

We were halfway through a five-city tour of

Indonesia where I was speaking thirty-five times in

nine days. I should have been dog tired. Sometimes

on these manically busy stretches I rev up and can't

settle down. We were headed to Java, and just as we

were boarding the plane from Jakarta to Semarang, a

rush of energy swept over me.

Five people were traveling with me, including my

caregiver Vaughan, who is a big, strong, fun-loving

guy. The female flight attendants were quite

impressed with him as we boarded the plane, and we

were teasing back and forth. They let us on first

because I have to get out of my wheelchair and walk

through the plane to my seat. As I headed down the

aisle of the plane with Vaughan behind me, I

suddenly had this urge to try something crazy that I'd

thought about doing for a while.

"Vaughan, quick, before anyone else comes aboard—

lift me up and see if I fit in the overhead baggage

compartment!"

We'd often joked about doing this. A few days earlier

I'd had Vaughan place me inside the metal frame at

the departure for seeing if your luggage will fit in the

overhead compartment. I easily fit, so they started

calling me "the Carry-on Kid."

The overhead compartment was quite high, and I

wasn't sure anyone could lift my seventy-four

pounds up there, but Vaughan had no trouble. He

hoisted me up and gently placed me on my side in

the compartment as if I were a Vuitton instead of a

Vujicic.

"Okay, now close the door," I said, "and let's wait for the other passengers to come on board."

Vaughan tucked a pillow under my head and

snapped the door shut, leaving me perched above the

seats. The flight attendants saw what we were up to

and cracked up with laughter. We were all snickering

like schoolkids, so I wasn't sure we would pull off

this prank. But the other passengers came up the

ramp, unaware of the stowaway in the overhead.

My crew and the flight attendants could hardly

contain themselves when an older gentleman came

down the aisle and reached up to put his bag in my

compartment. He opened the door—and nearly

jumped through the roof of the airplane.

I popped my head out. "Sir, I don't believe you even

knocked!"

Luckily, he was a good-natured bloke, and we all had

a nice belly laugh. Then while still perched in the

overhead, I had to pose for a couple hundred

pictures with him, other passengers, and the flight

attendants. Of course Vaughan kept threatening to

leave me up there, warning that "some items may

shift in flight."

UNRULY FOR THE ROAD

In the first ten chapters I've offered you encourage-

ment and guidance about finding your purpose,

being hopeful, believing in yourself, maintaining a

good attitude, acting with courage, practicing

resilience, mastering change, forming empowering

relationships, and acting upon opportunities that

move you closer to your dreams. Now I want you to

get a little crazy. Just like me.

I'm being ridiculous, of course. In fact, ridiculous is

exactly what I want you to be too. I am the creator of

the Ridiculous Rules, which hold that every living,

breathing person on the planet should be committed

to doing something ridiculous at least once a day,

whether it's risking looking ridiculous to pursue a

dream or simply having ridiculous fun.

My Ridiculous Rules spring from one of my favorite

quotes "Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius

and it's better to be absolutely ridiculous than

absolutely boring."

Now the alleged author of that intriguing quotation is

not exactly one of my role models, but I think the late

actress Marilyn Monroe was on to something when

she uttered it. Naturally, I agree that imperfection is

beauty, why wouldn't I? You can't argue either with

the fact that madness is genius—in the sense that

anyone who takes risks is bound to be considered a

madman by some and a genius by others. And yes, I

do think it's better to be absolutely ridiculous than to

be absolutely boring.

You can master every other lesson in this book, but if

you aren't willing to take some risks or dare to be

called crazy by those who doubt your genius, then

you likely will never achieve all that you dream of

achieving. And for your sake and the planet's, please

dare to be playful too. Don't forget to laugh at

yourself and kick up your heels now and then so that

you enjoy the journey.

I'm as guilty as anyone of falling into an

overscheduled, all-work-and-not-enough-play

lifestyle. I was determined to become a successful

evangelist and a motivational speaker. To hone my

speaking skills, I hit the road, jumping on every

speaking invitation I could line up. After eight

dizzying years of nonstop touring and speaking, I've

become more selective. I need more balance.

We easily become trapped in the "someday"

mentality.

Someday I'll have all the money I need so I can enjoy

life.

Someday I'll be able to spend more time with my

family.

Someday I'll have time to relax and do what I love

doing.

With the Ridiculous Rules, I encourage you to

embrace your freedom to romp on two fronts.

Number one is Ridiculous Risk: Be willing to blow

past the doubters and the naysayers and make a leap

to live your dreams. Some may say you are being

ridiculous. Your response should be: Why, yes I am!

Doing what you love may seem ridiculous to people

who don't share your vision or your passion. You

can't let their ridicule rid you of your dream. Instead,

use it to ride it all the way to the top!

Number two is Ridiculous Fun: Take time to enjoy

your life and your loved ones. Laugh, love, and have

ridiculous fun so others can share the joy. If you

think life is serious, imagine death! In this blessed

life be as serious as you need to be, but take the

opportunity to be just as playful as you can be too.

RIDICULOUS RISK

Helen Keller, who lost both her sight and hearing in

childhood but became a renowned activist and

author, said that there is no such thing as a secure

life. "It does not exist in nature . . . Life is either a

daring adventure or nothing." Risk, then, is not just

part of life. It is life. The place between your comfort

zone and your dream is where life takes place. It's

the high-anxiety zone, but it's also where you

discover who you are. Karl Wallenda, patriarch of

the legendary high-wire-walking family, nailed it

when he said: "Being on the tightrope is living;

everything else is waiting."

Every sky diver, paraglider, and baby Kookaburra

bird knows that the first walk to the edge is scary, but

they have to go there if they want to fly. Face it—

every day could be your last, so it's a roll of the dice

just to get out of bed. You can't be a winner unless

you're willing to face defeat. You can't even stand

without risking a fall.

My day-to-day life has been a dicey business since

birth. There were doubts as to whether I'd ever be

able to support or care for myself. My parents had

double trouble because their limbless child was also

a thrill seeker. I was forever putting myself in danger

because I couldn't bear to just sit around and be the

kid in the corner. I skateboarded. I played soccer. I

swam. I surfed. I threw my poor body around like an

unguided missile. It was ridiculous!

DIVING IN

In the fall of 2001; I tried something that I'd once

been told was way too dangerous for me: I went

scuba diving in the ocean. As you probably can

guess, I had a blast. It was like flying but with softer

landings. I'd tried to scuba about three years earlier,

but the instructor would only let me paddle around

the pool in scuba gear. I think he was more worried

about his insurance than my safety. He was afraid

he'd have to explain why that strange guy named

Nick was carried off by a shark looking for a bite-size

bloke.

This time my instructor, Felipe, had a more open

mind. He is the dive instructor on a little island off

Colombia, South America. I'd been invited to speak

there by the owners of the gorgeous Punta Faro

Resort on tiny Mucura Island, a national park, just

off Cartagena. Felipe's only question to me when I

showed up for a scuba lesson was "Can you swim?"

Once I proved seaworthy, Felipe gave me a quick

resort scuba course. We worked out some sign

language so I could communicate with him under

water: by moving my shoulders or my head, I could

let him know I needed help. Then he took me out for

a test run just off the beach, where we practiced a

bit, tried our underwater signals, and checked the

equipment.

"Okay, I think you're ready for the reef," he said.

Felipe gripped me around the waist and, using his

flippers, swam with me down to the reef surrounded

by a dazzling rainbow of marine life. Then he let me

go, floating above me while I explored the reef. He

had to rescue me only once when a five-foot-long

moray eel popped out of a crevice in the coral. I'd

read that these carnivorous eels have nasty teeth

covered with bacteria, so I signaled Felipe to tow me

to a friendlier section of the reef. I didn't want to

become Nick sushi.

The experience opened my eyes to a whole new

world. You may wonder whether it was worth the

ridiculous risk. Undoubtedly, yes! Stepping out of

your place of comfort opens the possibility for

stretching and growing. Surely there is some daring

move you've wanted to dive into? I encourage you to

do it, test the waters, and take your life to a new

level, even if it is under water. Swim with the

dolphins. Soar with the eagles. Climb a mountain.

Spelunk a cave! Be ridic like Nick!

Now, there is a difference between ridiculous risk

and just plain stupid risk. Stupid risks are just that,

too crazy to contemplate. You should never take a

risk in which you could lose more than you could

win. Ridiculous risk, however, is taking a chance that

looks or sounds crazier than it really is because:

1. You've prepared yourself.

2. You have reduced the risk as much as possible.

3. You have a backup plan if things go wrong.

RISK TYPES

I learned about risk mitigation while studying

financial planning and economics in university. In

the business world as in life, it is generally conceded

that you can't avoid risk entirely, but you can

manage or minimize it by measuring the depth of the

muck before you wade in—no matter what sort of

muck you are wading into.

There are two types of risk in life: the danger of

trying and the danger of not trying. That is to say,

there is always risk, no matter how you may try to

avoid it or protect yourself. Let's say you are

interested in dating someone. It's a gamble just to

call and ask the person out. You might be turned

down. But what if you don't try? After all, this

wonderful person might say yes. You might hit it off

and live happily ever after. Remember that you have

virtually no chance of living', "happily ever after"

unless you put yourself out there. Isn't that worth a

tumble, mate?

You will lose now and then. You will fail. But the

glory lies in getting back up again and again until

you succeed!

To live, you must be willing to reach and stretch. To

live well, you must learn to control the odds by

knowing the upside and downside before you make a

move. You can't control everything that happens to

you or around you, so focus on what you can control,

assess every possibility you can assess, and then

make a decision.

Sometimes your heart and your gut will tell you to

take a chance even when the odds of success look

bad on paper. You may fail. You may win. But I doubt

that you will ever look back with regret that you

tried. I consider myself a business entrepreneur as

well as a public speaker and evangelist. I've had

several business and real estate ventures over the

years. I've read many books about entrepreneurs,

and there is always a section on risk. Despite the

image of entrepreneurs as "risk takers," successful

entrepreneurs aren't really good at taking risks; they

are good at controlling and minimizing risks and

then moving forward, even when they know some

risk remains.

MY RIDICULOUS RULES

To help you deal with the risks you'll face in your life,

I've put together Nick's Ridiculous Rules for

Managing Risk. Read them at your own . . . well, you

know.

1. Test the waters.

An ancient African proverb says no one tests the

depth of the river with both feet. If you are

considering a new relationship, a move to another

city, a new job, or even a new color for the living

room, do a little test before making a big move. Don't

rush in without a good sense of what you are getting

into.

2. Go with what you know.

This doesn't mean you should never try new

experiences or new people; it simply means that you

can lower the odds by doing your homework. Once

you think you have a handle on the upside, down-

side, and every aspect of an opportunity, you should

have the confidence to make a move. Even if you

don't know it all, you should know what you don't

know—and sometimes that's good enough.

3. Check the timer.

Often you can greatly improve the odds by waiting

for the right time to make your move. You wouldn't

want to start a new ice cream business in the dead of

winter, would you? My first offer to enter the movie

business just wasn't for me, but a few months later

the role was perfect and the timing was right.

Sometimes patience can pay off. Don't be afraid to

sleep on it. Write it down before you go to bed, and

then read it again in the morning. It's amazing how

different it can appear when you let it sit overnight. I

have done this many times. Always consider your

timing and whether there might be a better time

before you make a move on the steep edge of

opportunity.

4. Get a second opinion.

Sometimes we take bigger chances than we should

because we're so convinced that we absolutely must

do a certain thing right now. If you find yourself

rushing into tricky territory, take a couple steps back,

call a friend or mentor you trust, and ask for help in

assessing the situation, because your emotions may

be outrunning your good sense. I go to my uncle

Batta here and to my father in Australia. There is

wisdom in a council of many. If the stake's are high,

you don't have to be the Lone Ranger.

5. Prepare for the unseen consequences.

There are always, I repeat always, unseen

consequences for our actions, especially those that

push the envelope. You can never foresee all the

repercussions, so you should do your best to consider

every angle and then prepare yourself for the

unexpected. When I do a business plan, I over-

estimate costs and underestimate my profit to create

a buffer, just in case the business doesn't progress as

well as I hope it will. If all goes well, it never hurts to

have the extra money.

RIDICULOUS FUN

Don't even pretend that you haven't stood waiting for

your baggage in an airport and contemplated leaping

onto the carousel to ride wherever it takes you in

Luggage Land. Of course, being ridiculous, I did it.

We were in Africa on a speaking tour. When we

arrived at the airport, I grew bored waiting for our

luggage, so I told my caregiver Kyle that I wanted to

go on a carousel ride.

He looked at me like Dude, have you gone mad as a

cut snake!

But Kyle came through. He hoisted me up and

plopped me down next to a nice big Samsonite. Off I

went with the rest of the bags and cases. I rode the

wild carousel through the terminal, making like a

statue, wearing my sunglasses, and drawing shocked

stares, pointed fingers, and nervous laughter from

the other travelers, who weren't sure if I was (a) a

real person, or (b) the world's most handsome duffle.

Finally I rode the carousel up to the little door

leading into the backroom loading area, where I was

greeted by the African bagmen laughing and smiling

at the crazy Aussie on a joy ride.

"God bless you!" they said, cheering me on.

The baggage workers understood that sometimes

even grown-ups have to hitch a ride on the carousel.

Youth isn't wasted on children. They enjoy every

minute of it. You and I should do whatever we can to

keep that youthful joy alive. If your life is too

predictable, don't go postal. Take a ridiculous ride

back to whatever it was that gave you joy as a child.

Jump on a trampoline. Saddle up a pony. Give

adulthood a rest.

I encourage you to use up every second. Every now

and then I cut loose and do something just for fun. I

encourage you to live the same way, in vigorous

pursuit of all the wonders that God has given us on

this earth.

To live ridiculously is to live at the convergence of

hope and possibility, embracing God's purpose and

His plan. The second part of the Ridiculous Rules,

then, is all about having ridiculous fun, defying

expectations, and exceeding limitations. It's about

enjoying the ride, embracing the blessings, and

always pushing not just to live but to enjoy your life

to the fullest.

In my speeches, I often stand poised right at the edge

of my speaking platform, teetering as if I'm about to

take a tumble. I tell my audiences that living on the

edge isn't such a bad way to go when you have faith

in yourself and in your Creator. That's not just talk. I

push myself in every aspect of my life, both work and

play. The most ridiculously good feeling comes over

me when work and play become one. I encourage

you to go for that feeling too.

STUNTMAN

When I accepted my first acting role in The Butterfly

Circus, I did not anticipate that I would do my own

stunt work. But then, who better to do my stunts

than me? It's not like there are a lot of professional

stunt men with no arms and no legs looking for

work.

I was game. If my fellow Aussie Russell Crowe can do

his own movie dives, why shouldn't I? Then again,

Russell has never been tossed around like a beach

ball by George the Strong Man. The real stuntman

and actor Matt Allmen played that burly character in

The Butterfly Circus. In one key scene in the film,

Matt, playing George, picks me up and throws me

into a small pond. Matt was very nervous about that

scene. I should have been more nervous myself.

We filmed it in a natural pool in a real creek in the

San Gabriel Mountains in California's High Desert.

The water was cold, but that wasn't the worst of it. In

the scene we filmed, I accidentally fall into the

creek's pool and everyone fears that I've drowned,

but I of course pop up, showing off my swimming

ability.

George the Strong Man gets so excited that I'm alive

that he picks me up and throws me, nearly drowning

me himself.

Matt was afraid he'd hurt me by throwing me too far

or too hard. He was a little timid in the first few takes

because the water was only about five feet deep. The

director, Joshua Weigel, encouraged him to give me a

stronger toss, and I came flying out of Matt's arms

like a torpedo! Afraid I would smack into the rock

bottom, I arched my back, which saved me. This time

there was no acting involved when I popped back up

out of the water. Everyone on the set was truly joyful

when I came up for air, especially Matt.

Even riskier, though, were my high-diving scenes, in

which I had to be hoisted about three stories in a

harness in front of a "green screen." Hanging over

the set by a few straps made for some scary

moments. Of course, the risks of my film work were

mitigated by professional stunt coordinators on the

set. They took care of the safety nets and rigging so

even the scariest parts were fun.

The truth is that taking a moderate physical risk now

and then, whether it's rock climbing, surfing, or

snowboarding, can pump you up and make you feel

more alive. Children and adults often incorporate

risk into their favorite forms of play, even if it's just

the risk of appearing ridiculous while unleashing

your inner eight year old.

PLAY FOR LIFE

Dr. Stuart Brown, a psychiatrist and founder of the

National Institute for Play, says that we are

hardwired to play and that to neglect our natural

playful impulses can be as dangerous as avoiding

sleep. Dr. Brown studied Death Row inmates and

serial killers and found that nearly all of them had

childhoods that lacked normal play patterns. He says

the opposite of play is not work, it is depression, so

play might well be considered a survival skill.

Risky, rough-and-tumble play helps children and

adults develop their social, cognitive, emotional, and

physical skills, according to Dr. Brown, who believes

we should even try to incorporate work and play

rather than just setting aside time for recreation.

I've known of men who spent their youths chasing

recognition and wealth, only to hit their later years

and realize that they had reached the end of a

journey that they did not enjoy. Don't let that happen

to you. Do what you need to do to survive, but do

what you love as often as possible too!

It's scary how you can get so caught up in daily

routines and the struggle to make a living that you

neglect the quality of your day-to-day life. Balance

isn't something you achieve "someday." So don't

forget to have some ridiculous fun by enjoying

whatever playful activity so absorbs you that you

lose track of time and place.

Studies have shown that being "lost" or totally

engaged in your favorite activity, whether it's playing

Monopoly, painting a landscape, or running a

marathon, may just be as close to true happiness as

we can get on this earth. I often fall into that sort of

"flow" state when I fish, which is my favorite form of relaxing play.

My parents first took me when I was just six years

old. My mum gave me a hand line with corn niblets

as bait. She threw it into the water, and I held on to

the line with my toes. I was a determined tyke. I

figured I could outwait the fish. Sooner or later

they'd have to take a bite of my corn because I wasn't

leaving until I hooked a whopper.

My strategy worked. A two-foot fish finally went

after my niblet, probably because he was tired of my

little shadow hovering over the water. When the

monster took my bait and ran with it, he pulled the

fishing line through my toes and it hurt like crazy.

Rather than let go of the fish, I came up with an

ingenious move. I sat on the line, which then burned

my bum when the big fish kept pulling on it.

"I've got a fish. Oh, my bum hurts. But I've got a fish!"

I screamed.

My mum and dad and cousins came running to help

me pull in the whopper, one that was about the same

length as me. Mine was the biggest fish caught all

day, and it was worth every bit of my pain. After that,

I was hooked on fishing for life.

I no longer use just a hand-held fishing line. I

mastered the rod and reel so I wouldn't suffer any

more bum burns. If a fish bites, I'm strong enough to

hold the rod between my shoulder and chin. I cast by

holding the line in my teeth and releasing at just the

right moment. Yes, it's true, I floss and fish at the

same time!

MUSICALLY INCLINED

If you think fishing is an outrageous pastime for me,

just think how people respond when I tell them I was

not only a drummer in my school band but a

conductor too! It's true, though. I've got the beat,

mate. I mastered the rare musical art of hymnal

percussion at a young age. Livery Sunday night at

church I'll set up rows of hymnals of varied

thickness. I'd pound out a beat on the hymn books

with my foot while the church choir sang. I come

from a long line of avid drummers, including my

cousin Ian Pasula, who was the first drummer in the

church band. I had such a natural ability to keep a

beat that a couple of my uncles and their church

friends kicked in to buy me a Roland drum machine.

This amplified wonder transformed me into a one-

man, no-limbed percussion orchestra. I started with

just the snare drum and bass drum and later

progressed to incorporating the closed and open high

hats.

The church's pianist, organist, and drummers would

join in and make me feel part of the band. I still play

a newer version of the drum machine, which I've

upgraded with a Mac Keys program, where I can use

it as a synthesizer and even play a guitar elec-

tronically. Music is a balm for my soul. Whether

listening or playing, I can lose myself for hours in

waves of sound.

My love of music was nurtured in jazz ensembles

and high school jazz bands. Perhaps the musical

highlight of my life so far came when I quite literally

took my entire high school orchestra on my

shoulders. Now there's a job you'd never expect

someone like me to take in hand. Reeediculous,

right?

Well, our music teacher was having health problems,

and she couldn't make our rehearsals, so I

volunteered to be the conductor for our sixty-piece

orchestra. I knew all the songs we were playing, so I

stood in front of our huge group of student musicians

and led them by waving my shoulders around. I'll go

out on a limb here and say that they sounded

ridiculously good that day.

A RIDICULOUS CONCLUSION

Most of us have little clue as to what God has planned

for us each day, each month, year, or lifetime. But

each of us has the capacity to add our own

flourishes, to pursue our purpose, our passion, and

our pleasure with reckless abandon and ridiculous

enthusiasm. In this chapter alone, I've recounted my

adventures as an airplane carry-on and an airport

carousel rider, as a scuba diver and a stunt man, as a

fisherman, a drummer, and an orchestra conductor.

My question to you now is: If imperfect me can have

that much ridiculous fun, if I can push the limits and

enjoy life so fully, what about you?

Live to glorify God, and don't leave an ounce of

energy, a trace of your uniqueness, behind. Dare to

be ridiculous, and you will be ridiculously happy.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Make Giving Your Mission

When I was twenty, I decided to go to South Africa on

a two-week speaking tour arranged by someone I'd

never met. My mum and dad were not enthused

because they were concerned about my safety and

health, and about the costs involved. Can you

imagine that? John Pingo had seen one of my first

videos and made it his mission to lure me to speak to

the neediest people in the poorest regions of his

country. On his own he set up a series of appear-

ances for me at congregations, schools, and

orphanages through his network of Doxa Deo

churches.

John wrote, called, and e-mailed, begging me to come

to his country. His persistence and enthusiasm

triggered something in me. When I was growing up

and sometimes tortured over my circumstances and

my future, the one action other than prayer that

seemed to bring me relief was to reach out and do

something for another person. The more I dwelled

on my own challenges, the worse I felt, but when I

changed my focus to serving the needs of someone

else, it lifted my spirits and helped me understand

that no one suffers alone.

Whether you have a lot or a little to offer, just

remember that small acts of kindness can be just as

powerful as big donations. If you make a difference

in just one life, you've done a great service, because

simple kindness can start a chain reaction of similar

actions, resulting in your effort's initial results

becoming magnified many times. How many times

have you had someone do something nice for you

and then, feeling grateful, you turn around and do a

kindness for someone else: I believe it is part of our

God-given nature to respond in this manner.

Earlier I told you how a simple kind comment from a

girl in my school infused me with confidence at a

critical point in my life when I had been feeling

useless and unwanted. She gave me a boost that

made me think maybe I did have something to offer,

and now I seek to provide inspiration to those in

need worldwide while spreading the word of God's

love. That girl's simple kindness to me has been

magnified many, many times over.

So if you say that you would do more if you had

more, I encourage you to simply do what you can

now and every day. Money isn't the only contri-

bution you can make. Whatever God has given you,

share it in ways to benefit others. If you have

carpentry or other trade skills, offer them to your

church, to Habitat for Humanity, or to the victims of

disasters in Haiti and other needy places. Whether

it's sewing or singing, accounting or auto repair,

there are plenty of ways you can multiply your

talents.

A high school student from Hong Kong recently e-

mailed my Web site, demonstrating how we can all

make a difference no matter how old, how rich, or

how poor.

I live a very fortunate life, but even still there were

times when I nonetheless felt useless and fright-

ened. I was scared entering my high school years

because of stories I'd heard about how the older

students might treat you. Then on my first day of

school, I joined the other students in my

Humanities in Action classroom and I had a great

teacher who taught us to no longer see ourselves as

a class but a family.

Over time we learned so many things. We were

introduced to important events in other parts of

the world, such as the 1994 genocide in Rwanda

and the current Genocide in Darfur, Sudan. My

class and I came to feel something that we had

never felt before: Passion. We had a passion to

understand and help what was happening to the

people in Darfur. Even though people wouldn't

expect much from 14-year-old kids, we found a

way of showing the world how we could make a

difference.

We put on a performance in which we showed the

audience what was happening in Darfur. We found

a passion that ignited our souls and spirit. Because

of this we were able to do the unexpected and

raised enough money to send essential supplies to

help people in Darfur.

Those are wise words from a young person, aren't

they? The passion to serve others may be the greatest

gift God can bestow. I'm sure the people in Darfur

who benefited from the supplies were grateful for

every single item, big or small. The awesome power

of God is reflected in the fact that if we want to do

something for others, our availability is every bit as

important as our capability. God works through us

when we reach out for others. Once you make

yourself available for good works, guess whose

capabilities you can rely on? God's! The Bible says, "I

can do all things through Christ who strengthens

me."

Whatever you want for yourself, do it for others. If

you make even small acts of compassion a daily

habit, you will feel empowered and liberated from

your own hurts and disappointments. You shouldn't

expect to benefit from being generous or supportive

to others, but good deeds can lead to surprising

rewards.

I'm an advocate of unconditional generosity because

it honors God and multiplies His blessings. Yet I also

believe that when you do unto others, blessings come

to you as well. So if you don't have a friend, be a

friend. If you are having a bad day, make someone

else's day. If your feelings are hurt, heal those of

another.

You never know how much of a difference you can

make in this world simply by performing a small act

of kindness. Small ripples can set huge waves in

motion. The classmate who saw that I was feeling

down after being teased and told me that I was

looking good not only soothed my hurt feelings, she

lit a spark that ignited my career and my mission to

reach out to others worldwide.

A PASSION FOR REACHING OUT

Don't worry about how much you can do to benefit

others, just reach out and know that small acts of

kindness multiply and are strengthened beyond

anything you might imagine. Like the student from

Hong Kong, I became more and more passionate

about traveling to South Africa the more I thought

about it and the more I heard from John Pingo.

I prayed about the proposed trip for three weeks.

After that, I really felt that I had a calling to go. I

wanted to offer inspiration without limits, and this

seemed like a good first step toward a worldwide

ministry. I knew very little about South Africa, and I

had never traveled that far without my parents. My

dad did have friends who lived there, and after he

spoke with them, he wasn't reassured. They reported

that violent crime was a serious problem and that

travelers were often attacked, robbed, and even

killed.

"It's not a safe place to go, Nick," my father said. "You don't even know this John Pingo. Why would you

trust him to take you all over that country?"

My mum and dad have very few gray hairs, which is

surprising given some of my adventures as a strong-

willed young man. But like all parents, they are very

protective of me. Given my disabilities, they felt they

had all the more reason to be concerned about my

safety. But I yearned to make my way, to follow my

calling and get on with my career as an evangelist

and inspirational speaker.

When I raised the prospect of the South Africa trip,

their initial concern was for my welfare and

financial stability. I'd just bought my first house with

my earnings, and they felt I should be paying off my

debts instead of gallivanting around the globe.

Their concerns increased dramatically when I also

revealed to them that (1) while I was in South Africa,

I intended to give away more than $20,000 of my life

savings to orphanages, and (2) I wanted to take my

little brother with me.

Looking back from my parents' perspective today, I

better appreciate how worrying it must have been

for them. But I was determined. The Bible says, "If

anyone has material possessions and sees his brother

in need but has no pity on him, how can the love of

God be in him?" I wanted to act on my faith by

serving others. Though I am disabled, I felt enabled

by my faith, and I felt that it was time to serve my

purpose.

I still had to convince my parents that I would be

safe. Even my brother was not all that enthused

about going with me at first. In fact, when I asked

him, initially he refused because of the reports of

violence and "I don't want to be eaten by a lion." I

kept pushing and prodding him, tried to explain the

situation about lions. I'd recruited two cousins to go;

one had to drop out. Aaron then felt it was his duty to

go and help me make the trip. My parents and I

prayed about this journey, and eventually they gave

their blessing to go forward with it. They were still

concerned, but they trusted God would look after us.

SERVING THE WORLD

When we arrived in South Africa after a long flight,

our host was waiting for us at the airport as

promised, but for some reason I'd pictured John

Pingo to be an older man, maybe not as old as my

parents but at least in his thirties.

He was nineteen years old! That was a year younger

than I was at the time.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, I thought when

we met at the airport. Fortunately, John proved to be

a very mature and capable bloke, who opened my

eyes to more poverty and need than I'd ever

witnessed. He told me how he had been inspired by

my life story when he saw my video, but I came to

realize that his story was every bit as compelling,

and his dedication to his faith humbled me.

He grew up on a livestock farm in the Republic of the

Orange Free State in southern South Africa. He'd run

with a bad crowd earlier in life, but he'd become an

avid Christian and was now the owner of a small

trucking company. He was grateful to God for

helping him change his life and for blessing him.

John was so determined to have me speak words of

faith and inspiration around his country that he'd

sold his own car to raise enough money for our tour

of churches, schools, orphanages, and prisons. Then

he'd borrowed his aunt's blue van to haul me to

speaking engagements in Cape Town, Pretoria,

Johannesburg, and all points in between.

It was a crazy schedule, and we often went with just

four or five hours of sleep each day. But this trip

introduced me to people, places, and things that

changed my life forever. It helped me realize what I

wanted to do with the rest of my life: to share my

message of encouragement and faith around the

globe.

Aaron and I thought we'd seen a bit growing up in

Australia and living for a short time in California.

But on this trip we realized we were babes in these

woods. That realization really sank in when we left

the airport and were driving through Johannesburg.

Aaron looked out his window at an intersection and

saw a sign that terrified him: "Smash and Grab

Area."

Aaron looked at our driver. "John, what does that

sign mean?"

"Oh, that means this is an area where they will

smash your car windows, grab your things out of the

car, and run off," said John.

We locked the doors and began scanning all around

us. We noted that many people lived in homes

surrounded by high concrete walls with barbed-wire

fencing at the top. Several people we met in the first

couple days told of being mugged or robbed, but

eventually we found that South Africa was no more

dangerous than many other regions where poverty

and crime are concerns.

In fact, Aaron and I both fell in love with South

Africa and its people. Despite all this nation's

problems, we found South Africans to be wonderful,

filled with hope and joy despite their circumstances.

We'd never seen such depths of poverty and despair,

nor such inexplicable joy and unyielding faith, as we

found there,

The orphanages were both heart-wrenching and

inspiring. We visited one orphanage dedicated to

rescuing abandoned children who had been left in

trash cans and on park benches. Most of them were

sick and suffering from malnutrition. They affected

us so much that we returned the next day with pizza,

soft drinks, toys, soccer balls, and other simple gifts.

The children were ecstatic about them.

But we also saw children with open wounds from

flesh-eating bacteria, children and adults dying of

AIDS, and families living day to day in search of food

and clean water to drink. To see that up close, to

smell the sickness and death hovering over human

beings in agony, and to know that all I could do was

pray over them to comfort them, was such an eye-

opening experience. I had never seen such poverty

and suffering. It was so much worse than anything

I've ever endured, and it made my life seem

pampered by comparison. I was overwhelmed with

conflicting feelings: compassion that made me want

to leap into action and save everyone I could, and

anger at the existence of such suffering and its

seeming unchangeability.

Our father often spoke of his childhood in Serbia,

having only a piece of bread and a little water and

sugar for dinner at night. His father, my grandfather,

had been a barber by trade. He had worked in a

government salon, but when he refused to join the

Communist Party, he was forced out. It was difficult

for him to operate his own shop because of constant

pressure from the Communists. The family had to

move once or twice a year so that my grandfather,

whose faith prohibited him from bearing arms, could

avoid being drafted into the military. When he

contracted tuberculosis and could no longer work at

his trade, my grandmother had to support their six

children with work as a seamstress.

My father's stories of his family's struggles carried

new meaning for me after I witnessed poverty and

hunger up close in South Africa; now I'd seen

anguish in the eyes of dying mothers and heard their

children screaming because of their aching, empty

stomachs. We visited slums where families lived in

tiny tin sheds no bigger than storage rooms, with

newspapers for insulation and no running water. I

spoke at a prison where the inmates filled the chapel

and a courtyard outside it. We learned that many of

the prisoners were still awaiting trial and that the

only crime of many was to owe money to someone

with the power to have them arrested. We met one

prisoner who'd been sentenced to serve ten years

because he owed $200. That day the prisoners sang

for us, and their voices soared with amazing joy in

such a desolate place.

MAKING A DIFFERENCE

I'd gone to South Africa as a young man full of

himself, sure that I could make a difference in this

vast land. But it was South Africa that made a

difference in me.

When you step outside of yourself and your own

concerns to reach out for others, it will change you.

You will be humbled. You will be inspired. More than

anything and more than ever, you will be over-

whelmed with the feeling that you are part of

something much bigger than yourself. Not only that,

you will also realize that you can make a contri-

bution. Everything you do to make someone else's

life better makes your life more meaningful.

After our first few days in South Africa, I came to

understand why John Pingo was so dedicated and

driven to help me deliver my message of hope and

faith around his country. He had seen more than I'd

ever seen. I'd led a very self-centered and selfish

existence, I realized; the demanding boy with no

arms or legs could not conceive that anyone suffered

as much as he.

Since that trip I've never felt the same in a grocery

store. The abundance of food even in my neighbor-

hood grocery is beyond the imagination of the

orphans and slum dwellers I met in South Africa.

Even today I reflect on that trip when I'm feeling

pampered in an air-conditioned office, or when I'm

given a cool drink; such simple comforts are rarities

in that part of the world.

Aaron, who is now a high school math and science

teacher in Australia, still talks about what a reality

check that trip was. We were saddened at some

sights, but amazed by so much else. We agree that it

was the best trip of our lives. We both came home

wondering, What can we do to ease the suffering of

others! What is the best way to contribute! How

could I ever live the same way, knowing that people

are suffering so much!

You don't have to travel far to find someone in need

of help. In fact, our trip to South Africa made us

more aware of the needy people in our own

community and our own country. You can easily find

places to give of your time, your talents, or your

money at your local churches, nursing homes, the

American Red Cross, the Salvation Army, homeless

shelters, food banks, and soup kitchens. Whatever

you can share will make a difference; whether it is

money, your time, your resources, or your network

of friends and co-workers.

That first trip to South Africa made me so excited

about kicking off my mission that I gave away a good

portion of my savings, $20,000; while we were there

we raised another $20,000 and gave that away too!

We spent entire days buying presents for orphans,

feeding them, and stocking up on books and blankets

and beds. We gave the orphanages television sets and

DVD players, donating funds through a half-dozen

charitable networks.

Twenty thousand dollars is still a considerable

amount of money in my book, but looking back, I

wish I'd had more to give. Just being able to affect a

few lives in a few places gave me a greater sense of

fulfillment than I'd ever known. My mum wasn't too

happy when I returned from South Africa with "not

thing" in my savings account, but she saw that my

life was enriched beyond measure on that journey.

MIRACLES IN THE MAKING

One of the most emotionally raw and unforgettable

scenes from our South Africa trip came when I spoke

at a certain church. Hundreds of sick, disabled, and

dying people had lined up to seek a healing miracle

there. Normally I make a few joking references to my

lack of limbs, just to put people at ease. In this

church, no one laughed! They were not there for

humor. They were there for healing. They wanted

miracles.

Every single night they came to this church in neck

braces, on crutches, and in wheelchairs with hope

for a healing. Two people with AIDS had been

dragged on mattresses to the church. Others had

walked four and five hours to get there. The back of

the church was lined with crutches and wheelchairs

that were said to have been left by those who'd been

healed. My brother and I talked to a man whose leg

and foot were swollen to nearly twice their normal

size. He was in agony, but he'd walked to this church

to be healed.

Everyone wishes for the power to heal those in pain.

I've certainly done my share of praying for a miracle

to give me arms and legs. But my request has never

been granted, and most of the people we met at that

South African church did not get their miracles

either. But that does not mean miracles cannot occur.

My life may well qualify as a miracle someday, given

that I've been able to reach so many diverse

audiences, speaking words of faith and inspiration.

The fact that this Australian Christian of Serbian

descent with no limbs has received invitations to

speak from government leaders in Costa Rica,

Colombia, Egypt, and China is no small miracle. I've

met with Pope Shenouda III of the Coptic Church and

with the grand imam Sheikh Mohammed Sayed

Tantawi, not to mention with leaders of the Church

of Latter-Day Saints. My life is a testimony to the

fact that there are no limits other than those we

impose upon ourselves!

Living without limits means knowing that you

always have something to give, something that might

ease the burden of others. Even small kindnesses

and a few dollars can have a powerful impact. After

the terrible earthquake in Haiti in 2010, the

American Red Cross quickly set up a program for

people to help right away. They made it possible to

donate ten dollars by taking a cell phone and texting

"HAITI" to the number 90999.

Now, ten dollars doesn't seem like much, and texting

it didn't take much effort. It was a small act of

charity. But if you were one of those who

participated, you made a huge difference. The last

time I checked, according to the Red Cross, more

than three million people made ten-dollar donations

to Haiti on their cell phones. As a result, the Red

Cross had received more than $32 million to finance

its efforts to help the people of Haiti!

DO WHAT YOU LOVE

TO BENEFIT OTHERS

Today my Life Without Limbs nonprofit organization

helps support more than ten different charities,

including the Apostolic Christian Church Foundation,

which sends missionaries around the world; it

operates orphanages and churches, including

Bombay Teen Challenge in India, which I wrote

about earlier in the book. We also partner with Joni

and Friends to give away refurbished wheelchairs

to people in need.

You can take whatever you love to do, and do it for

the benefit of others. Do you play tennis? Ride a

bike? Love to dance? Turn your favorite activity into

philanthropy: a tennis tournament to benefit your

local YMCA, a bike ride for the Boys and Girls Club,

or a dance marathon to buy clothing for needy kids.

Hilary Lister loves sailing. At thirty-seven, she

decided to try to sail solo around the island of Great

Britain. She planned the forty day sailing trip as a

benefit for her charity, Hilary's Dream Trust, which

helps disabled and disadvantaged adults learn to sail.

She believes sailing can boost the spirits and

confidence of people with disabilities.

Hilary's belief in the healing power of sailing is based

on personal experience. She has not had the use of

her arms or legs since the age of fifteen because of a

progressive neurological disorder. A quadriplegic

with a degree from Oxford, she sails her custom-

outfitted boat using a "sip and puff" system with

three straws to operate the controls. One straw

controls the tiller, while the others help her steer. She

is the first quadriplegic sailor to solo-sail across the

English Channel and around Britain.

ONE PERSON AT A TIME

Two years after our amazing experience in South

Africa, I got an invitation to speak in Indonesia. The

invitation came by e-mail from a gentleman in Perth

whose nickname was Han-Han. He was of Chinese

descent and pastor of a group of Indonesian

churches in Australia.

Upon receiving his e-mail, I called Han-Han, and we

spent hours on the phone discussing his proposal. He

said my ministry was well known in Indonesia

because of my DVDs and videos on the Internet. He

offered to set up a speaking tour that would include

appearances before tens of thousands of people each

weekend. My parents and I prayed over his proposal,

and they agreed that I should go, giving their

blessings.

I never grow tired of seeing new parts of the world

and meeting diverse people, experiencing their

cultures and foods. Han-Han had put together a very

demanding speaking schedule for me, and I began to

have concerns about the rigorous timetable,

especially when I discovered that the caregiver

they'd provided for me didn't speak English. The

language barrier became a huge problem when I

developed a digestive virus. My caregiver's inability

to understand me and my lack of fingers to gesture

and give hand signs led to some very frustrating

situations.

My hosts staged a very thoughtful party to celebrate

my twenty-third birthday, but my stomach and I

were not exactly in the mood for the festivities. I was

in so much pain at one point that I prayed for God's

help. As I did so, I envisioned Jesus on the cross, and

my pain subsided. I then thanked God and enjoyed

the rest of my party. The next day I received medical

attention, and my condition improved dramatically

before I returned to Australia.

A few years later Han-Han invited me to return to

Indonesia for another speaking tour. This time I

provided my own caregiver and stuck to bottled

water with no ice. A businessman in Indonesia,

whom we knew as Pa Chokro, arranged for me to

speak to nearly forty thousand people at stadium

appearances in five cities. The events were also

broadcast on television.

One Sunday morning, after I had done three

speaking engagements at a church, we took a break

since I had three events that evening. I was hungry

and tired but decided to address the hunger first. We

found a Chinese restaurant near my last speaking

venue. A group of local leaders and sponsors of our

tour accompanied us. We walked in, with my

caregiver Vaughan carrying me.

The restaurant was not fancy, little more than a

concrete floor with wooden tables and chairs. Just as

we were seated, a young woman came up to the door

and leaned against its frame. She was weeping and

speaking in Indonesian directly to me. I felt a wave of

compassion for her. I had no idea what she was

saying, but I could see that she was gesturing at me

and in need of a hug.

The businessmen and community leaders with me

seemed to be touched by her words. They explained

that this woman, Esther, had grown up in a tin-

roofed shanty made of cardboard. She lived with her

mother and two siblings at the edge of a garbage

dump, where they foraged for food each day and

collected bits of plastic to sell to the recycling factory.

She had a strong faith in God, but when her father

left the family, Esther despaired and considered

suicide. She believed that her life wasn't worth

living.

Upset over the departure of her father, she

considered taking her life. She prayed, telling God

that she could no longer go to church. That same day

her pastor showed the congregation one of my DVDs.

It was a black-marketed copy, one of 150,000 made

illegally and sold in Indonesia.

When I'd first learned from Han-Han that so many of

my DVDs had been pirated and sold, I responded,

"Don't worry about it, praise God." I cared more

about people hearing my message than about

making profits. Even on the black market, God was at

work, as Esther would confirm.

Through an interpreter, Esther told me that my DVD

had inspired her to reject despair. She came to find a

purpose and to have hope. She felt that "if Nick can

trust in God, then I can too." She prayed for a job and

fasted for six months. She'd found the job in that

same Chinese restaurant, which brought us together!

After hearing this story, I gave Esther a hug and

asked her what her plans were. She had decided that

even though she had little money and worked

fourteen hours a day, she would prepare herself to

be a children's minister. She hoped to attend a Bible

college, even though she wasn't sure how that could

happen given her situation. She was living in the

restaurant, sleeping on the floor because she couldn't

afford a place to live.

I nearly fell off my chair at that revelation. I hadn't

felt really comfortable about eating in the place. I

couldn't imagine this poor woman sleeping there. I

encouraged her to find a different place to live and to

pursue her dream to be a children's minister.

One of the members of or group was a pastor. After

Esther returned to her work, he told me that the local

Bible college was very expensive, and it had a twelve

month waiting list just to take the entrance exam,

which very few applicants passed.

A steaming plate full of food was placed in front of

me, but I'd lost my appetite. I kept thinking of this

poor woman sleeping on the floor. As the rest of the

group prayed in thanks for the meal, I prayed for

Esther. My prayers were answered almost

immediately. The pastor seated next to me said that

his church could provide Esther with living

accommodations if I contributed the security deposit.

I asked if Esther could afford to pay her rent, and the

pastor assured me that she could handle it. So I

agreed. I was very excited to tell Esther, but before

she returned to our table, one of the businessmen

said that he would make the down payment himself.

I told him I wanted to do my part, but I appreciated

his offer. Just then another of our party spoke up. "I

am the president of the Bible College," he said. "I will allow Esther to take the entrance exam this week,

and if she passes, I will see that she gets a

scholarship."

God's plan unfolded before my eyes. Esther scored

100 percent on the entrance exam. She graduated

from the Bible college in November 2008. She is now

the youth director for a children's ministry in one of

Indonesia's largest churches, and she has plans to

create an orphanage in her community.

Throughout this book I've been telling you about the

power of purpose. Esther's story is a testament to

that power. This woman had nothing but a sense of

purpose and faith in God. Her purpose and her faith

created a powerful magnetic field that attracted me

and an entire team of people willing to buy into her

dream.

THE POWER OF

PURPOSE AND FAITH

I am humbled by Esther, her powerful sense of

purpose, her undying hope for a better life, her faith

in God, her self-love, her positive attitude, her

fearlessness and resilience, her willingness to take

risks, and her ability to reach out to others.

Esther's story amazes and inspires me. I hope you

feel the same way. My purpose in writing this book

has been to light the flames of faith and hope inside

you so that you too can live a life without limits. Your

circumstances may be difficult. You may have

challenges with your health, your finances, or your

relationships. But with a sense of purpose, faith in

your future, and determination to never give up, you

can overcome any obstacle.

Esther did it. You can too. When I was growing up,

my lack of limbs often seemed like an insurmount-

able burden, but my "disability" has proven to be a

blessing in many, many ways because I learned to

follow God's path.

You may face many trials too, but you should know

that wherever you feel weakness, God is strong. He

took me from disabled to enabled and instilled in me

a passion for sharing my stories and my faith to help

others cope with their own challenges.

I realized that my purpose was to turn my struggles

into lessons that glorify God and inspire others. He

blessed me as a blessing to others. Distribute your

own blessings with enthusiasm, and know that

whatever you do will be multiplied many times. In

all things God works for the best for those who love

Him. He loves you, and I love you too.

Christians often are told that we are "the hands and

feet of Christ" on earth. If I took that literally, I might feel a bit left out. Instead, I take it spiritually. I serve

Him by touching as many lives as I can through my

testimony and my example. My goal is to reflect the

love of Christ for us all. He has given us life so that

we might share our gifts with each other. This fills

me with joy, and it should fill you with joy too. I hope

that the stories and messages in this book have

helped and inspired you to find your purpose, to be

hopeful, to have faith, to love yourself, to have a

positive attitude, and to be fearless, unstoppable,

accepting of change, trustworthy, open to

opportunities, willing to take risks, and be charitable

to others.

Please stay in touch with me and share your stories

and thoughts on the book by visiting me online at

NickVujicic.com, also known as

LifeWithoutLimbs.org and AttitudeIsAltitude.com.

Remember this: God has a truly great purpose for

your life! Live it without limits!

With love and faith,

Nick

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

GOD: The Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

The ones who I strive to make proud, my pillars of

strength, Dad and Mum. I love you so much! Thank

you for everything! To my brother, my true first best

friend and rock, Aaron, and my sister-in-law,

Michelle. To my inspiration to never compromise in

integrity and to be the best I can be, my dear sister,

Michelle.

To my Vujicic grandparents, Vladimir and Nada, now

resting in eternal peace, who encouraged me to

believe and be disciplined. To my grandma, who I'll

get to know better in heaven, Anica Radojevic. To my

ninety-three-year-old grandpa, Dragoljub Radojevic,

and his wife, Ana, who taught me to never add to or

subtract from the Gospel.

My love and thanks to all of my uncles and aunties,

first, second, and third cousins, and other family

members. In loving memory of Bosko Zunic, Roy

Zunic, Martin Poljak, Joshua Vujicic, Steve Nenadov,

and Barney Nenadov.

The board of directors for Life Without Limbs (USA):

Batta Vujicic, David Price, Dan'l Markham, Don

McMaster, and their wives and families. The board of

directors for Life Without Limbs (Hong Kong

chapter): Ignatius Ho and George Miksa, and their

families. The volunteering international coordinators

for Life Without Limbs. The Apostolic Christian

Church of the Nazarean, and a very special thanks to

Joni and Friends Ministry who have always been

there for our ministry, and me personally. The team

of Attitude is Altitude, and my mentors and coaches

who always believed in me.

A big thank-you to my literary agents with great

patience and faith in me, Jan Miller and Nena

Madonia of Dupree Miller & Associates, and their

team. Also to my writer, Wes Smith, who has done an

absolutely incredible job at helping me put this

together and working around our hectic touring. To

the Crown Publishing Group and the entire team,

thank you. Special thanks to Michael Palgon, Trace

Murphy, and Karin Schulze.

Finally, a huge thank-you to all my friends who have

loved, sup-poi ted, and prayed for me along the way.

To all of you who are reading, I want to also

acknowledge your support as you help spread ibis

message of hope to your family and friends. Thank

you very much!

RESOURCES

GET PLUGGED INTO PHILANTHROPY

I encourage you to be just as creative as Hilary Lister

in finding ways to give and support others. The latest

trends in philanthropy include micro-volunteering

and micro-action, which are spin-offs from

successful micro-lending programs that have

provided millions and millions of dollars in small

loans. If you have a cell phone and a few extra

minutes, you can reach out as a micro-volunteer to

take micro-action to help a worthy cause or a person

in need.

A social entrepreneurial enterprise called the

Extraordinaries operates a for-profit service for

those who are willing to do good using their

smartphones or their Web browsers. The idea is that

while many people can't give up an entire day to do

good deeds, they can do a little here and there, while

commuting by rail or bus, waiting in line, or during

breaks at work. The Extraordinaries Web site 4

(http://www.beextra.org) and smartphone

application hooks those people up so they can do

benevolent work in small bites.

Some of the good deeds that the Extraordinaries can

help you perform, according to their Web site,

include recording an audio version of a book just a

few pages at a time for a group that distributes

audiobooks to the disabled; translating a nonprofit's

Web site into a foreign language; recording pothole

locations for your town; identifying birds for the

Cornell Lab of Ornithology; tagging images

for the Smithsonian; identifying and mapping good

and sale places for kids to play; or reviewing

congressional bills for hidden pork.

The company plans to make money by charging

organizations a fee for each task performed by its

micro-volunteers, a movement dial uses technology

and crowd sourcing to do little things that add up to a

lot of good. It's cutting-edge philanthropy that uses

the Internet and social networking to make the

planet a better place. Here are just a few Web sites

where you can plug into the "Giving Grid" from your

laptop or smart phone.

CAUSECAST.COM

Multimillionaire tech entrepreneur Ryan Scott

founded Causecast to help nonprofit and charitable

organizations reduce high-cost donation transaction

fees that cut into their ability to do good. Causecast

accomplishes that mission with innovative methods

that include helping donors make contributions via

their cell phones by using a "text-to-pay payment

system." Causecast has branched out to serve as a

link between worthy nonprofits and companies

interested in developing cause-marketing campaigns.

This $1.5 billion industry involves major companies

who want to partner their brands with good causes

and support them through donations or shared

proceeds.

DONORSCHOOSE.ORG

This education advocacy site encourages "citizen

philanthropy" by taking requests for assistance from

public schoolteachers across North America looking

for everything from pencils for economically

disadvantaged students to chemistry lab equipment,

musical instruments, and books. You can go to their

Web site, choose which request you want to help

with, and donate any amount you want.

DonorsChoose.org then delivers the materials to the

school. They also provide photos of your gift in use at

at the school, a thank you letter from the teacher,

and a cost report showing how your money was

spent. Larger donors get personal thank you letters

from the students.

AMAZEE.COM

This social-networking site promotes advocacy

projects, sort of a Facebook for philanthropists in

action. It encourages people who want to be

charitable to promote their ideas, recruit fellow

believers, and raise money on its global action

network. Its members' projects have included

building an IT learning center for the poor in Sri

Lanka and helping to supply running water to a

village in South Africa.

GLOBALGIVING.COM

GlobalGiving's goal is to help donors become doers

by connecting them to more than seven hundred

prescreened grassroots charity projects, according to

its Web site. "From running orphanages and schools,

to helping survivors of natural disasters, these people

are do-gooders to the core. We connect these 'good

idea people' with the 'generous giver people' and

help projects of all sizes receive donations of all

sizes," the site says.

People with projects post their causes and wish lists

on the Web site, and those who wish to make

donations can pick and choose those they want to

support or become involved in. GlobalGiving also

guarantees that 85 percent of each donation is "on-

the-ground within 60 days and has an immediate

impact."

KIVA.ORG

This Web site connects the needy and the working

poor to those willing to loan or give them a little at a

time. Billed as "the world's first person-to-person

micro-lending website," it allows visitors to browse

profiles of its low-income entrepreneurs and then to

make small loans of six to twelve months to those

selected. Donors are kept updated on the entre-

preneur's progress via e-mails, journal updates, and

repayment tracking.

A few dollars here and there can add up when

millions are willing to give. Kiva.org reports that so

far more than $80 million has been distributed from

more than a half-million micro-lenders to people in

184 countries. The Web site uses PayPal or credit

cards to distribute small loans of $25 or more.

KINDED.COM

The power of the Internet is increasingly being

tapped by inventive philanthropists like Daniel

Lubetsky, a social entrepreneur and founder of

Peace/Works, a "not-only-for-profit" food and

condiment company, based in my native Australia,

that makes all-natural KIND fruit and nut bars.

Lubetsky created the "kinding" movement to

encourage people to surprise others with unexpected

acts of kindness, according to his Kinded.com Web

site. You can go to the Web site, make your own

Kinded card to print out, and then when you do

something nice for someone, you pass the card to

that person so they can pass it along by doing

something nice for someone else. The cards are

coded so that they can be tracked online and each

person can see the rippling effect of each good deed.

IFWERANTHEWORLD.COM

There are so many creative ways to reach out. A new

online project called IfWeRanTheWorld.com

encourages individuals, organizations, and

corporations to take on worthy causes in small,

manageable steps. You can go to the Web site, fill in

your suggestion to the phrase If I ran the world I

would . . . , and then the site's operators hook you up

to others willing to find ways to follow through on

your idea and pitch in.

NEVER CHAINED

One of our current philanthropic projects at Life

Without Limbs takes a similar approach. We are

creating the equivalent of an online shelter or youth

self-counseling center: a Web site where people can

share their stories of both hurt and healing and then

help each other find ways to move to a better place

emotionally and spiritually.

I was inspired to do this a few years ago when I met a

seventeen-year-old girl who'd been raped three years

earlier. She told me that she'd had no one to talk to

about her terrible experience, but God had healed

her heart through prayer. She'd then written a song

about the healing, in hope of helping others. "Maybe

because of what I went through I can help someone

who is thinking about giving up, or maybe I can save

a soul," she told me.

Her story inspired me to create this Web site, where

her story and her song can be heard by people

seeking healing and inspiration. I can't imagine the

physical and emotional pain she experienced. I

couldn't be there for her when she needed help

because I didn't know her then. But I can help her

and others tell their stories and heal each other. The

Web site is called Never Chained, after the Bible

phrase that says "the word of God is never chained."

My plan is to have a two-stage experience for Never

Chained. In the first section, visitors will be able to

share their stories of need; then on the second page,

we will link them to people who want to offer

assistance or comfort. I think of it as a social-

networking site where those in need can connect to

those seeking to make a difference. Our goal is

modest: to change the world one person at a time.

We are still in the process of developing this Web

site. Our goal is to inspire teens to become involved

and encouraged in philanthropy. You can check

LifeWithoutLimbs.org for any updates not just on

this project but on our travels and stories on how

people's lives are being transformed.

Links to others you've met in this book:

Dr. Stuart Brown

www.nifplay.org

Reggie Dabbs

www.reggiedabbsonline.com

Bethany Hamilton

www.bethanyhamilton.com

Gabe Murfitt

www.gabeshope.org

Vic & Elsie Schlatter

Apostolic Christian Church Foundation

www.accm.org

Glennis Siverson

www.glennisphotos.com

Joni Eareckson Tada

www.joniandfriends.org

Phil Toth

www.PhilToth.com

Document Outline

- FRONT COVER

- CONTENTS

- INTRODUCTION

- 1: IF YOU CAN'T GET A MIRACLE, BECOME ONE

- 2: NO ARMS, NO LEGS, NO LIMITS

- 3: FULL ASSURANCE IN THE HEART

- 4: LOVE THE PERFECTLY IMPERFECT YOU

- 5: ATTITUDE IS ALTITUDE

- 6: ARMLESS BUT NOT HARMLESS

- 7: DON'T LET YOUR FACE PLANT GROW ROOTS

- 8: THE NEW BLOKE IN THE BUSHES

- 9: TRUST OTHERS, MORE OR LESS

- 10: AN EQUAL OPPORTUNITY HUGGER

- 11: THE RIDICULOUS RULES

- 12: MAKE GIVING YOUR MISSION

- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

- RESOURCES

- PHOTOS

- BACK COVER

Table of Contents

Introduction

One: If You Can't Get A Miracle, Become One

Two: No Arms, No Legs, No Limits

Three: Full Assurance In The Heart

Four: Love The Perfectly Imperfect You

Five: Attitude Is Altitude

Six: Armless But Not Harmless

Seven: Don't Let Your Face Plant Grow Roots

Eight: The New Bloke In The Bushes

Nine: Trust Others, More Or Less

Ten: An Equal Opportunity Hugger

Eleven: The Ridiculous Rules

Twelve: Make Giving Your Mission

Acknowledgments

Resources: Get Plugged Into Philanthropy

Photos

FRONT COVER

CONTENTS

BACK COVER