In the U.S. more than 12,000 teenagers used Botox injections in 2009, and many consider undergoing cosmetic surgery to improve their looks. To be successful and important, to lead a fulfilled and happy life, you have to be beautiful, society tells you.

Lillibeth Navarro struggled with similar pressures as a teenager. “All the women in my family were very beautiful.” Instead, she herself was confined to a wheelchair, having contracted polio at the age of five. The disease left its marks on her body, and later, also on her soul.

Her grandmother kept on telling her that she was “special,” but as a teenager, she didn’t want to be “special” – she wanted to be doing all the normal things: going out with friends, dancing, dating and dreaming of a future family.

“Every person has value and dignity,” she says today, describing how her discovery of God’s personal love changed her life. To respond to his love she wanted to show “God’s face to the world,” and this has remained her life’s work ever since.

After studying business in the Philippines, she found an opportunity to pursue journalism in the U.S. In her first job upon graduation, she became acutely aware of how many things were not accessible to her and to other disabled people. Joining a demonstration in Los Angeles in 1985 under the slogan “Access is a civil right,” she started to be active in the Disability Rights Movement. Before long she took on a leadership role.

Her work today is not limited to speeches and conferences. As she learned from Focolare founder Chiara Lubich, “You have to think big for God.” In 2000, when Lillibeth was asked to open an Independent Living Center (ILC) in Los Angeles, she agreed without hesitation. One person in charge was a former supervisor who had fired her in Los Angeles. “You?” this woman exclaimed when Lillibeth was introduced to her as the new founder of the ILC in Los Angeles. “Yes,” replied Lillibeth, without any bitterness.

In the nearly 10 years since its opening, the ILC has grown from 7 to 16 employees, from 7 core programs to 13 programs, and is a central point for all people with temporary or permanent disabilities. Its name, CALIF, stands for “Communities Actively Living Independent and Free,” and it is located in a historic building on Spring Street in downtown Los Angeles. It aims to help disabled persons live independently in their own apartments with assistance.

“In a nursing home, you can’t even choose at what time you want to get up or go to bed,” she explains. “That is not a self-determined life.” Giving me a warm welcome to the center, Lillibeth guides me to her office as her colleagues work in other areas of the center. People arrive to request advice about government assistance, and information about technical help available.

“We have a loan program for equipment that people cannot afford,” she says. They have also the latest technology she likes to share with her clients: an app that facilitates communication for those with speech impediments after a stroke. “I had a woman in my office who, after a stroke, thought all was ended, but that’s not true. Technology is on our side,” she affirms. “We are always looking for solutions.” To really effect change, you cannot limit your dedication to a cause or the group you care about. In LA County, about 180,000 homecare workers assist people with disabilities. A few years ago, most of them were working without health insurance, because although the government paid them, it did not officially employ them.

“A lot of the other disabled persons didn’t want more rights for the homecare workers, because they were afraid of a possible strike,” Lillibeth explains. Caught in a dilemma, she prayed about it. She understood how love could resolve the conflict for her by helping her think in terms of a “consistent ethic of social justice.” After sharing this way of thinking, she got support for the initiative to establish an employer of record so that personal care attendants can bargain for better wages and benefits. “The homecare workers help us every day, and I cannot fight for my rights at the expense of other people’s,” she said. Now the workers are better paid and have health insurance.

She also tried to reconcile different opinions within the disability movement because the needs of some disability groups were opposed to those of others. Eliminating a barrier for people in wheelchairs, for example, caused orientation problems for the blind. “If we cannot understand the needs of others who are disabled, how can we ask society to understand us?” she asks.

At the CALIF office, some workers use their lunch break once a week for a spirituality meeting, sharing their thoughts and their experiences of living out their faith. From their faces, one can see that they really enjoy working here.

Lillibeth has won several awards, including the Los Angeles County Commission on Disability Recognition Award in 1999. She was named “Woman of the Year” by the California State Legislature – something she would never have expected when a child, having felt discriminated against and rejected by others. Then in December 2010, the Philippine government named her one of 24 Most Outstanding Filipinos Overseas.

For her, this is all a result of confiding in God’s love. “That’s what happens when you use your talents for something that is bigger than you,” she says. With her example, she encourages a lot of people, with and without disabilities. She always tries to see the positive. “As a disabled person, I always experience the providence of God.” Lillibeth feels that Jesus has a special love for people with disabilities.

“It’s all so evident in the Gospel,” she points out, “Jesus would heal the disabled he encountered everywhere!” But, she adds, “there’s also meaning in suffering that doesn’t go away – a permanent disability is a chance to say ‘yes’ to God everyday.” Once, she shared this discovery with a Muslim colleague in the disability community. Moved by the story, he began to search the Qu’ran for a similar story, and was excited to find a verse where Mohammed encounters a blind person and is corrected by God to have a change of heart, directing him to give the blind man honor and respect. “The dignity of all human life is common ground from which to start, and also the goal to reach in this change of attitude toward those with disabilities,” she explains.

As she continues the daily struggle with disability, “there are a lot of things in my heart I still have to change,” she claims. Her life choices have brought change to many other hearts as well.

Susanne Janssen (Living City)