Wordless Wednesday: teaching Anglos how to bust a pinata

We have pinatas at our birthday parties in Dinglefest land. I lived on the Mexican border for the two years before Lee and I got married, and as such, it just wouldn't seem right to celebrate without busting one open.

Granted, you don't find pinatas like this where we live now!

Now that's what I call a pinata! Maybe I need to bring one back the next time we go down there...

Oops, I just remembered that this was supposed to be a wordless post. Just pictures, no words. Hmm.

I never did follow directions well. Did you ever have to take that trick test in school, the one with a gazillion items to answer, but the instructions tell you to read over the whole test before beginning? And if you get to the end, it says "write your name at the top and turn it in without answering the other questions." Yeah, I took the whole test. More than once.

(My best friend also tried to convinced me three times when we were kids that the word "gullible" wasn't in the dictionary, and each time I got the dictionary out to prove her wrong before I realized that the joke was on me. Yes, three times. Hmm, maybe I should have kept this post wordless to avoid admitting that.)

So, without further ado, the pictures of my Anglo kids and their friends destroying the dragon (which seemed to be a fitting choice for a princess & pirate birthday party!).

(And, in the background of this next one, I believe Dan is doing the traditional parenting test known as smell-if-a-change-is-needed.)

The dragon was not yet slain, but we all know that removing the wings is a good first step. Well done, HK!

I didn't get a picture of the bust moment, but here are a few post-pinata shots.

And I think we can all agree that a dragon's head on a pirate's hook is far less disturbing than last year's decapitated Dora.

on showing grace to others (and a confession of a time when I didn't)

While I'm writing this post with a special needs ministry slant, it's a much broader issue of Christian community that isn't rooted in any one ministry area. It's about love and compassion and sincerity. It's about knowing who we are and whose we are and acting on that knowledge.

So what is it?

Showing grace to one another, including ourselves.

Here's an example from a special needs ministry conference I attended: In one session, a woman was sitting in front of me who seemed jovial enough as we started. Then, throughout the session, she made seemingly incessant comments to the presenter.

Now, please understand that my church in South Texas was of the old school, Southern Baptist variety in which a hearty "amen!" was not inappropriate to call out from time to time. (Granted, as a gal with backgrounds in Moravian, Lutheran, and Episcopalian churches, I never called out, but I was not uncomfortable with those who did!) Therefore, the first few affirming comments from the woman didn't bother me, but as the session progressed, I found myself getting more and more annoyed.

It wasn't until the presenter glanced my way as I was fully rolling my eyes that I realized the absurdity of it: here I was, as a special needs ministry coordinator, at a special needs ministry conference, with my panties in a bunch because someone else dared to act in a different way from me.

Could the woman have had a disability, something like ADHD or Asperger's? Possibly. Or maybe not. Maybe she was just tired and found it easier to stay engaged if she did so verbally. Maybe she thought she was encouraging the speaker. (And she might have been, because the presenter never seemed annoyed like I was.) Or maybe she was just incredibly friendly.

And me? I was a jerk.

Sure, I was tired. But I was also selfish and hypocritical and arrogant and condescending.

Instead of treating her behavior with grace and appreciating her input, I became irritated. And I wasn't even concerned about my rotten attitude until I thought that the presenter caught me rolling my eyes.

Thankfully, the woman in front of me didn't realize I was ever annoyed. But I'm glad God showed me how ugly my attitude was, because it did two things for me:

First, it helped me understand why some folks in the church can be resistant to special needs ministry. Worship (or simply learning) alongside someone who is different from us forces us to adapt. And sometimes it's easier to be selfish and hypocritical than compassionate and grace-filled

And, second, it allowed me the opportunity to show grace to myself. I can humbly acknowledge sinful attitudes in my life, confess them to God in repentance, and move on to the next thing He has in store without camping out in the land of shame.

And I can learn from it (and hopefully you can too!) so that next time I can be the one who is thankful for those who aren't like me, instead of irritated by them and their rightful inclusion in the body of Christ.

Five ways to make your church more inclusive

I have found Amy Fenton Lee's blog to be incredibly helpful for special needs ministry know-how, and obviously the folks at specialchildren.about.com agreed, because they interviewed her. Several of you have shared with me that you want to start a special needs ministry or get more buy-in for an existing one, and this article that includes that interview - titled Five Ways to Make Your Church More Inclusive - is a fantastic resource for doing just that.

You'll need to follow the link to get the full content, but - in brief - Amy recommends:

1. Sharing statistics. I did this to invest our leaders, and I'll be posting later this week about some useful statistics as well as some flawed one that are used, abused, and oft repeated even though they aren't accurate.
2. Providing role models. It definitely helps to be able to share what other churches are doing.
3. Help church leaders network. The concept of segregated church buildings and denominations that exist in isolation from one another isn't found anywhere in the Bible. Our church hosted Joy Prom, a massive event for adults with special needs, for several years before we began sharing the event with other churches. Now we hold it one year, and then a different church hosts it the next year. I love being involved with it, so a part of me is sad that Joy Prom isn't at our church this year. But I'm so excited for our friends down the road, that their church gets to experience it too and that we can sharpen, refine, and support one another in our efforts!
4. Narrow your focus. This one is the hardest for me, but it is so very true. I want to do everything at once. But I can't. Feel free to keep a parking lot of ideas where you park those longer-term vision and action steps, but decide what one or two things you're doing now. 
5. Suggest helpful resources. This is a big step too, because I've found that some folks are scared to do special needs ministry because they simply don't know what to do or how to do it and they don't want to fail. (And this ties back to number three, because other church leaders are key resources for you!)

For those of you who are just starting out, which step is the hardest for you?

And, whether you're new to special needs ministry or not, what's your narrowed focus right now? In other words, what's - to use Amy's words - the "one change that would make the biggest impact on families with special needs" at your church? (I'll be sharing the answer to that for our church later this week!)

And the award for

most impressive pinata skills goes to...

When I grow up, I want to be as cool as Cooper.

So does Jocelyn, but she didn't quite get the hang of it. (Hehe, pun not intended at first, but I like it!)

 
(More pictures of pinata and party fun coming tomorrow!)

New Hope

Our prayer for our children has always been that God would draw them to Him at an early age. That said, we also didn’t want to coerce them into adopting our beliefs. When it comes to kids proclaiming their faith in Christ, sometimes it’s a real faith...and sometimes it’s a sweet, impressionable little one trying to say what she thinks an adult wants her to say. Lee and I don’t want our kids to ride on the coattails of our faith; that’s not how it works, anyway. Our desire has always been and continues to be that Jocelyn and Robbie know God intimately, understanding Christ as their Lord, Savior, and Treasure.

A few weeks ago, we had communion at our church. Jocelyn didn’t understand at first why she couldn’t take it. I explained that you have to believe that Jesus died for your sins, let Him be in charge of your life, and treasure Him as the best and greatest. She said, “But I do believe that.” And I said, “Well then, if all that’s true, then you can pray and tell Jesus that you accept Him as Savior and Lord and Treasure in your life.” Her response? “No, I don’t want to do that right now.”

Since then, we’ve had several conversations in which she asked lots of questions about sin, Jesus’ death, sovereignty (without using that word, mind you), and treasuring Christ. We had even more of those this week as we talked about our friends’ baby, Hope, who died (miscarriage) sometime in the last two weeks. Our friends found out she had died on Monday. (Though it was too early to know if the baby was a girl or boy, they chose the name Hope. You can read more about that here at their blog.)

Jocelyn knew “Aunt” Jenelle was pregnant, and she knew what that meant. When I told her that the baby had died, her eyes filled with tears and she cried, “But I really miss Aunt Jenelle’s baby!” I told her that the baby’s name is Hope and that she was in heaven now. Then, after a couple moments, Jocelyn smiled and said, “I think Baby New Hope is petting Shango and Heckler right now.” (Those are our cats who passed away earlier this year, and we live near a place called “New Hope” so that’s how she refers to our friends’ baby.) She added, “And she might be playing with Max too, but she might be scared of him because he’s kind of big.” (Max is the German shepherd that Lee’s sister Laurie and her husband Jay used to have.)

(Side note: She also offered to “be Uncle Derek’s girl for a while because he might be sad because his girl New Hope died.” She said she wanted to come home to us after that, because she would miss us, but that she could sleep on the top bunk of Baby Leiana’s bed until then. She also declared that Baby New Hope was in Jesus’ belly now because she hadn’t been born yet and was in Aunt Jenelle’s belly before she went to heaven. I asked her if boys have babies in their bellies, and she said, “No, but Jesus is special so if any boy could, He could.” It breaks. my. heart. to hear her take on it all. Pure preciousness.)

She continued to ask about heaven and Jesus and all that. On the way home from the church playground Friday, the song Jesus Loves the Little Children played from our Veggie Tales CD. One verse goes, “Jesus came to save the children, all the children of the world.” Jocelyn asked, “Why does Jesus have to save us if we’re not in trouble?”

Great question.

I explained that the requirement for heaven is perfection and asked her if she was perfect. She said, “No, I sin sometimes.” So, I explained, you can’t go to heaven because of your sin; but what did Jesus do? And we talked about Christ living a perfect life and dying on the cross for our sins, that because of Him we can go to heaven even when we deserve to go to hell. “What is hell?” she asked. I explained that everyone goes to heaven or hell when they die, and God isn’t in hell. She said, “I don’t want to go to hell.” I told her that she didn’t have to and that she can be with God in heaven forever after she dies if she believes that Jesus died for her sins, lets Him be in charge of her life, and treasures Him as the best and greatest. She once again said that she believed all that, just as she had during communion a few weeks ago. And this time she asked if we could talk to God about that in prayer. So we did. (Yes, in the car as we drove along – that’s not exactly where I imagined we would have that conversation, but neither Jocelyn nor God act according to my plans!)

For another kid, I might have wondered if her declaration of faith was coming from her heart or from her desire to say what I wanted. But since she’s my kid, I know the difference. (And anyone who knows Jocelyn knows that she does her own thing without concerning herself much with what anyone else wants her to do! That, of course, can be a good or bad thing, depending on the scenario.)

Afterward, I told her she was different, that God made her a new creation! And she just smiled and smiled (and I just wished I had my camera with me, which I didn't). And she announced that when she goes to heaven, she’s going to play with Heckler and Baby New Hope.

Will we continue to pray with her and teach her and point her to Him? Of course! There is still plenty of discipling to be done, and that would be true if she were 14 instead of 4. Do I question, though, whether or not her faith is genuine? No. Take, for example, the conversation she and I had in the car on the way home from church today: After we talked about heaven and Jesus some more, she looked sad. I asked her what was wrong. She stuck her bottom lip out and said, “I don’t want to sin, and I’m trying not to sin, but I just can’t do it.” It wasn't just a passing statement; I could tell that she was heartbroken about her own sin. That wouldn’t be possible if God hadn’t changed her heart.

Do I think she has a complete understanding of who Christ is and what He did for her? No. Do I have a full understanding of that, though? Certainly not. He is so vast that we’ll spend eternity getting to know Him without ever coming to an end of the wonder and glory and majesty and mystery of God.
And what now? Well, right after we prayed on Friday, she declared, “So now I need to get baptized, right?” That caught me by surprise, to be honest. Baptism doesn’t save people; it is a public display of salvation that has already occurred and an act of obedience to what God has instructed us to do in the Word. At our church, the person being baptized stands in front of the church and shares what her understanding of the Gospel is and how Christ drew her to Him and changed her. Because she’s only four, Lee and I weren’t planning to start discussing baptism in much detail until she was ready to stand before the church and do that. She says she’s ready now and that she wants to talk to Pastor Steve about that when we go to his house for dinner this week.

And she said she wants to ask him about how he’s going to make sure she doesn’t drown up there – that’s what she’s concerned about right now, not about talking in front of everyone.

I’m thankful for new hope in Christ and for sweet Baby New Hope, though I still wish we could have gotten to hold her before heaven held her.

(And thank you, Jenelle, for helping me write this post and encouraging me to share it here. We love y'all so much!)