Your special needs ministry policies are worthless if they only live on a shelf.

I was trained as a teacher. My master's degree is in education, not in ministry or theology. The last policies I wrote weren't for a church; they were for effective goal-setting and instruction in special education classrooms taught by Teach For America corps members.

As such, I know that the field of special education is the most policy- and paperwork-heavy of any corner of education. This isn't because IEPs are fun. In case you don't know that lingo, it stands for Individualized Education Program, and it's a legal document that details the strengths, needs, and supports for each child receiving special education services. IEPs are useful because each child is unique, and the needs of each child with a disability are also unique. IEPs are necessary because kids with special needs haven't always been guaranteed the free and appropriate education that legislation now ensures them and because research shows that individuals with special needs are more likely to be abused and neglected than their non-disabled peers.

For the same reasons, it is useful to have policies for special needs ministry, regardless of how formal or informal your church and ministry are. And putting them in writing is crucial because no ministry should have any person as its focal point, except for Jesus Christ. If my brain holds all of our policies, then I am at the center of it. And I'm not enabling anyone else to lead or serve well.

However, formal policies won't help you if they're not used. Actually, they can make you more liable if something problematic, injurious, or even criminal occurs in your church, because a policy that is written but not followed shows that you knew better but didn't act on that knowledge.

Let me tell you about the first special education guidebook I wrote. It was a beautifully rich and detailed 189 pages. It answered questions that had been lingering in Teach For America practice but had never before been answered. I was incredibly proud of it, as was the vice president who managed my work. And? No one read it. It sat on many shelves. It lived electronically on several servers, rarely or never accessed. It was well-written and strategic and potentially useful.

Problem was, though, that its potential was never realized because no one used it.

Scratch that. I used it. I copied and pasted sections when the numerous emails came my way from program directors around the country, asking me how they should handle various situations. They typically asked about situations that were described in the guide, with questions that were answered there with words and diagrams and examples ... that few people ever saw.

Where did we fail? We focused solely on the guide, perfecting the policies. We put little to no effort in the roll-out. We didn't communicate its usefulness, and we didn't convince anyone that they needed to know what was in it. We knew that it was useful, and we mistakenly assumed that others would know that too, without having to sell them on it.

Don't write policies if you're going to make that mistake. Don't bother wasting your time if you aren't going to use them and if you aren't going to share them. If you have space on your shelves to spare, I can recommend several worthwhile books to fill it. (Or you can send me your bookshelves. Mine have books stacked two or three deep because I don't have enough bookshelf space!)

I will be offering tips for training along with each policy area I discuss in blog posts, so don't panic about having to figure that out on your own. Please understand that I'm not trying to scare you off. I just want you to understand from the beginning that I don't write policy or talk about it as a simple exercise. It matters far too much to leave it at that.

Your church should have a plan for welcoming people with special needs. But don't get confused: it's not the plan that matters. It's the outcome: welcoming people with special needs. A plan on paper can't do that; a plan in action can.

And, finally, any plan - on paper or in action - is powerless without Christ. The aim isn't to welcome people with special needs to show that we love the gospel. It's not even about the gospel first. It's about the gospel. Period. It's about loving Christ because he first loved us and loving others out of the love and grace we have experienced from him first.

And now I'd love to know if you have any specific policy-related questions. There's a lot of ground to cover here, but I wouldn't mind adding a topic or changing my planned order of topics if it would be a blessing to you. What would you like to know?

What I take for granted at church because my kids don't have disabilities

I had the privilege of guest posting on one of Key Ministry's blogs this week, Church 4 Every Child. Dr. Steve Grcevich is a physician specializing in child and adolescent psychiatry and President of Key Ministry, and I am humbled by his kind words at the beginning of the post because I have a great deal of respect for him and his team too. Here's the beginning of my post over there and a link to read the whole thing...

I just watched The Blind Side with my husband this weekend, but I already knew about one scene. I had heard about it from a sermon or two and read about it in at least one book. In it, Big Mike looks around his new room and tells Leigh Anne Tuohy, the mom of the family who welcomes him into their home, “I’ve never had one before.” She says, “What, a room to yourself?” And he says, “No, a bed.” As she walks away, tears in her eyes, it’s obvious that she has been faced with a reality that is starkly different from her own.

If I want to go to Sunday school or a worship service, I do. If I want to serve in a ministry on Sunday morning or go to our church’s monthly leadership training, it’s not a problem. I have a two-year-old son and a four-year-old daughter, and if I want to do those things, I just take my kids to their class or childcare. If we need a babysitter, we call the girls across the street, even occasionally allowing the eleven-year-old to watch them for short stretches.

Like Leigh Anne in The Blind Side, I don’t regularly think about what life is like for kids without beds as I place my son in his bright blue racecar bed each night. And I don’t think twice about bringing my children to church or calling a trustworthy young sitter to come over so my husband and I can have a short date.

Weekly round-up! {7/25/11}

Families increasingly shoulder caregiving burden. This describes a study about those caring for individuals with life-long disabilities, "caregivers reported feeling stretched financially and emotionally, with 1 in 5 indicating that a family member quit their job due to caregiving responsibilities and the majority saying that they felt tired or stressed some or most of the time." Can the church help them?

A friend of a friend will be releasing an e-book this fall about their son's autism diagnosis and the first year following it. The title is Speechless: Finding God's Grace in my Son's Autism, and I am looking forward to reading it! Here's a little more about it.

When I taught in Texas, "mental retardation" was the category in which a few of my students were classified for special education purposes. Last week Arizona joined the list of states changing the term to the less emotionally-charged and negatively-connotated "intellectual disability."

Here's a news blurb about exposure to secondhand smoke as a possible contributing factor to developing ADHD and other disabilities. I think it's important for those of us in disability ministry to pay attention to news bits like this (and, along these lines, the multiple reports I've seen lately about possible genetic and environmental links to autism), primarily because these issues matter to parents and family members and people with disabilities.I haven't linked to these sort of news blurbs and articles in the past, but I'll start doing so. One warning, though: I don't share these blurbs with parents, and I think you should be sensitive not to bring up any information like this is such a way that it could communicate "you could have done something to cause this disability." Trust me, that doesn't help. I've been on the receiving end of well-intentioned but hurtful suggestions that a change to my diet or habits might have prevented or could now reverse my rheumatoid arthritis. Even if it were true that I could have done something to avoid the disease, what good does that knowledge do me now that I already have it?

My friend Mike of Making Room and Special Needs Ministry shared these ideas of things that can "feed" a child's sensory needs.

The Coffee Klatch shared Temple Grandin's top five tips for parenting a child with autism. Items 1, 2, 4, and 5 are all useful for ministry leaders as well, though I would advise against #3 in most church settings.

I found out about Cassi through Amy at The Inclusive Church, and I am so thankful for that online introduction via her blog. This week Cassi shared some sample forms from her church's special needs ministry. So useful!

It warms my heart when friends read something related to disability and theology, think of me, and email, Facebook, or tweet me with the link. That's what happens with this one: 4 Things I've Learned about God through my Baby who was Born Blind

On a less encouraging note...
  •  The behavior of a man with autism at church was misinterpreted, and he was handcuffed and detained by a police officer. And neither the church leader quoted nor the police spokesman seem to think that they should have handled it differently or proactively learned about autism to be able to differentiate between suspicious behavior and the manifestation of a disability. Sigh. Read about it here.
  •  Read this thought-provoking opinion piece: Ignoring the disabled is the new racism
And, to close my round-up this week, here are some great stories from churches around the country: one that is in the running to receive funding to build an accessible playground that they will make available to the public, one about a camp - called Camp Able - run by the Episcopal Diocese of Southwest Florida, and one about the FACES of Autism camp in Georgia that I mentioned last week.

And one of our families at our church will be attending a Joni & Friends family retreat next week, and I'm looking forward to sharing their experiences with y'all once they return. I'm so excited for them!

A lesson in safety from an outing with my kiddos

Yesterday we trekked to Monkey Joe's, a place o' fun filled with inflatables that bring great joy to my children. The first time we went, I was apprehensive because I know they're little - Robbie is 2 and Jocelyn is 4 - and bigger kids could knock them down. After our first few visits, though, my kids had the confidence to run the place. And I was confident about that too.

Until yesterday.

I knew it would be crowded, given that the forecast called for 101 degrees. Now I grew up in Florida and taught for a few years in south Texas, but even I will admit that 101 is hot. Monkey Joe's is an air-conditioned place where kids can run around. I knew we wouldn't be the only ones to find that appealing on such a hot day.

It was crowded. The crowds in general weren't the problem, though. Two school/camp groups were there. One was a perfect model of a group of kids who had been instructed about how to behave respectfully and who were held accountable to that by their leaders. The other group ... well, they were the opposite.

We had planned to stay for a few hours, but the second group changed our plans. My son, who used to act like he owned the place, asked to be held instead and clung to my neck. My daughter asked me last night, "Mommy, why were those big kids so mean? Do they not know about Jesus? Maybe we should have told them Jesus loves them and died on the cross for their sins."

The leaders of that group all sat at tables, only interacting with the kids if they happened to run past. The kids realized this, so they behaved within sight of their leaders and wrestled with, punched, and shoved each other as soon as they were out of sight. It wasn't pretty.

Those kids never meant harm to my kids, but they weren't paying attention either. My kids were pushed down a couple times, once stuck under a pile-up of big kids for a moment. And my kids sometimes had to wait in longer lines because some of those kids cut in front of them.

And so we left. It was not a safe or enjoyable place anymore.

This is why it's important to have safety measures in place in special needs ministry (and other ministries) at church. If your church is not a safe place, then it's not a place any family can be comfortable bringing their children. If our ministry is unsafe, it's not a place where people can even hear the gospel because they're going to be too focused on safety concerns to pay attention to anything we say about Jesus.

Next week I'll be writing about church policies for special needs ministry. Policies aren't always fun, but they are purposeful. One of those purposes is to ensure that our churches are safe places for people with and without disabilities.


(And, to give credit to the folks at Monkey Joe's, I spoke with the manager who offered us vouchers to visit another time. Next time we'll call ahead to inquire about groups scheduled for that day.)