go ahead and stare

I’m limping, but I’m still here. And, as He is apt to do, God is teaching me about Himself in these present circumstances.

I’ll explain a little more about what’s happening with my knee in tomorrow’s post. Today all you need to know is that I’m limping and that my right leg occasionally gets locked in a straight position, unable to bend unless I use my hands to manipulate the joint. That means I’m not walking around much, but I made an exception Tuesday night.

You see, we had our last respite planning meeting on Tuesday, and I needed to be there to lead the team. I also need (okay, wanted) to be there to eat dessert. We met at Yogurt Mountain, which is a wonderful world of about a dozen flavors of frozen yogurt and 50+ toppings that you can combine in any way you’d like. For the record, I’m an acai berry energy + vanilla bean yogurt topped with Nerds candy and sour gummy worms kind of gal. 

This is not the sort of treat you can have someone else make for you. 

Because the proportions have to be just right for it to near perfection, I had to hobble around to make my own.

Because not making one isn’t an option, no matter how injured you are.

And as I hobbled, I felt conspicuous. Some people were more tactful in their glances while others just stared. A couple of young guys awkwardly went out of their way twice to make sure they weren’t in my way. (Their youth gave them the awkwardness; I bet their mommas gave them the good manners.) 

When we met at Yogurt Mountain two weeks ago, no one looked my way. No one noticed me. Everyone ate their yogurt, had their own conversations, and went on their merry way, myself included. I had rheumatoid arthritis then too, but it wasn’t visible.

Tuesday night, though, I was noticed. And, with the exception of kids’ staring in curiosity or the young guys’ trying not to hinder me in my quest for yogurt, I didn’t want to be noticed. Not for my limp. 

Generally speaking, people like to be noticed. But they like to be noticed for some skill or talent or accomplishment, not for a challenge or problem. We like to be noticed for what we can do, not for what we can’t do. We like to be noticed for ability, not disability.

The gospel turns this desire to be noticed upside down, though. We like to be noticed for good things; but as Christians, we confess that we are sinners. We like to be noticed for accomplishments; but as Christians, we confess that only accomplishment that means anything is what Christ accomplished at the cross as the perfect, final sacrifice for the sins of his people. We like to be noticed for what we can do; but as Christians, we have to admit that Christ did what we couldn’t do.

I emailed the rest of our church’s Family Discipleship team yesterday to share details with them about what’s going on with my knee, and I’ve been overwhelmed by their sweet replies. One, though, I have to disagree with. The response began, “Shannon, You are remarkable.”

The truth is, though, that I’m not. I am clinging to God’s truth, not because I am strong but because I know nothing else will satisfy. I can trust that God has a plan to make good out of my knee failing me at age 29, not because I have a great ability to trust but because God is absolutely trustworthy. I am willing to share these challenges through the internet, even though most of you will never see my limp, not because I want you to be impressed with my faith but because I want to impress upon you the reason for the hope I have. 

It’s Jesus.

And if my limp will point others to Christ, I would rather limp than walk normally. If noticing my limp will make others notice my God as well, then I don’t mind the stares.

To him be the glory.

not understanding the circumstances, but trusting anyway

I'm still not feeling up to generating new content here, but I'd love to share an old post from my other blog. I wrote it the day before my then six-month-old son Robbie had an MRI to explore possible spinal abnormalities. It turned out that no abnormalities were present, but the whole process was daunting for us.

As an update, I am doing better than I was yesterday. This head cold has me curled up in bed or on the couch with far more television being consumed by the kids than usual, but I can hobble with a little less pain due to a cortisone injection in my knee. It will get me through our October 1st respite event and through an MRI, which will help us know what other next steps we'll need. Thanks for your prayers and encouragement yesterday!

And now, my post from October 7, 2009...

Tomorrow is the MRI for Robbie. I was sharing with a friend last night that my biggest concern isn't the results, since we're totally trusting God with all of that. I told her that what still had my stomach in knots was the thought of tomorrow morning. Robbie can't nurse after 1:30am because he has to be sedated. We have to be at the hospital at 7:30am. As I told my friend, by the time of the MRI at 8:30am, he would have nursed twice, sometimes three times, on a typical day (since our little man cluster feeds in the morning). I told her that he would be hungry and crying and wouldn't understand why Mommy wasn't feeding him. I told her that the part I was dreading of all this wasn't the MRI or the wait for results (not sure how long that'll be) ... but rather the morning of seeing my son hungry, being capable of feeding him, and choosing to withhold that from him. Tears are coming to my eyes right now as I anticipate his cries as he can see Mommy but can't understand why Mommy won't feed him. There isn't a way for me to explain to him why he's hungry or to explain to him that it's just temporary or to help him understand that nothing will keep me from nursing him as soon as the medical professionals give me the green light. I know all of that, but he won't. He can't grasp that we're letting this occur for his good, so that we can see what his spine looks like. And it's likely that he'll be crying, upset and confused and hungry, not understanding the circumstances at all.

And as I thought about this tonight, it brought me back to my favorite thing about parenting: what it teaches me about God.

"For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways," declares the LORD. "As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts." Isaiah 55:8-9

How many times have I cried, not understanding the pain or discomfort of my circumstances? How many times have I thought I knew exactly what I needed, praying in a way that tries to demand, "God, give me this," as if I know my needs and the big picture better than He does? And, yet, our wise Father has reasons for withholding what I think I need. Looking back at my past, I can understand some of those reasons now. Other reasons I may never understand. But my prayer tonight is that I'll remember this the next time I'm crying to God about something that has made me upset, confused, and hungry. And that, in that moment, I'll be reminded that our sovereign God causes and allows those moments in our lives as part of His plan for our good and His glory, just as Lee and I are going to allow some discomfort into Robbie's life tomorrow morning because it's part of a plan we've made with his doctor for his ultimate good.

I am SO thankful that God has given me the sweet blessing of mothering these two darlings! And I am amazed by the lessons He teaches me as I live out that blessing every day.

(Oh, and my sweet friend - the one who I shared these concerns with last night - told me that she had had similar concerns when one of her babies had to have some procedures done. She prayed that it wouldn't be an issue, and it wasn't. There were no tears, no fits, no angry baby-ness, even though her little one was hungry. That made me realize how much I limit my prayers! Instead of praying that God will help me deal with Robbie's cries tomorrow, I'm now praying that He will supernaturally comfort Robbie even though he can't eat. And, just as Azariah, Hananiah, and Mishael answered Nebuchadnezzar in Daniel 3:16-18, my attitude is simply that God can do that ... but, even if He doesn't, He is still God and we still trust Him.) 

~+~
As I mentioned at the beginning, the MRI was all clear. And you know what? He didn't even cry to nurse until the whole procedure was done and we were nearly cleared for him to eat ... cuddles and thumb-sucking held him over until then! You wouldn't guess it from the picture below, taken on that day in October, 2009, but he is now a tenacious two-year-old boy who keeps me on my toes and who blesses me beyond measure!

 

we all need encouragement

I'm hurting today. I mentioned in my post yesterday that my knees were acting up, and my right one is now the worst it's ever been. Being a stay-at-home mom to two kids - ages 2 and 4 - isn't easy when the pain of walking from one room to the next can take your breath away. And having all three of us sick with head colds certainly doesn't make it any easier.

To be honest, I don't have much to offer right now. I'm feeling pretty depleted. Some days God strengthens me in spite my rheumatoid arthritis, and some days He uses RA to empty me so that He can fill me again. Right now I'm feeling as if I'm being emptied. How encouraging it is to know that He is faithful to fill me once more with His goodness and strength!

In all this, I am thankful for friends who God uses to encourage me, friends who send me messages like this:

I am praying for your heart first and your knees next. Don't go the pity party route... please!!! You know that won't accomplish anything, so don't buy the lie. I am super-angry at the enemy for attacking you. And I'm telling Jesus all about it.

And friends who write words like these:

 I’m weeping with you, and KNOW that God will bolster you

And these:

I am so sorry you are hurting. I am praying for you. Let me know what the rheumatologist says. Love you!

Special needs ministry is often about encouraging people who have found themselves in circumstances they wouldn't have chosen if it had been up to them. And about pointing to a God who is sovereign over all things, even if we don't understand His ways.

How can you encourage someone else today?

I believe that I shall look upon the goodness of the LORD
   in the land of the living!
Wait for the LORD;
   be strong, and let your heart take courage;
   wait for the LORD!

{Psalm 27:13-14}

Special needs ministry weekly round-up! {9/19/11}

Before I dive into the links this week, I have a prayer request to share with you. I'll be talking with some of my specialists today to figure out what's happening with my knees. I think it's a fairly sudden flare of rheumatoid arthritis, possibly related to the shift in weather this week, but I've never had a flare this severe come on this quickly before and the weather has never affected my arthritis before either. I think we'll need a couple weeks of a drug I hate/love, and we might need to add some physical therapy into the mix too. Please pray that this will not interfere with the planning and execution of our October 1st respite care event!

And now to this week's links... 


This isn't related to special needs ministry, but my senior pastor has started a new blog: Equipped for Life I am blessed to work alongside godly men and women who lead our ministries.


Special needs ministry isn't just about the person with a disability. It's about family ministry. Here's a great post I meant to include in the round-up last week: 6 Ways to Support a Sister of a Child with Autism


I've blogged occasionally about adoption and will continue to do so. For starters, rates of disability are higher among kids who have been adopted. Beyond that, special needs and adoption have other overlaps as well; both change families, both include people who are often left out on the margins of church and community, and both give us the opportunity as a church to put our faith into practice. In this post, Jen honestly writes about life as an adoptive family ... not just in the beginning, but after the airport. Where are we then, after the airport or after the diagnosis?


What do we know about kids at risk of behaving aggressively? This is part of a fantastic series of posts by Dr. Steve Grcevich, who is the president of Key Ministry and a physician specializing in child and adolescent psychiatry. His closing comments are something all of us need to consider:

The most important take home point is that there’s a pretty good chance kids who struggle with aggressive behavior at church have some condition that predisposes them to act that way or have been victims of such behavior themselves.

They sound like kids who could certainly benefit from the opportunity to experience the love of Christ through a local church, don’t they?

Yes, they do.


One of the ways disability ministry can display the works of God is that it shows what we're for. When polls and books like unChristian highlight that we're often viewed by what we oppose, it's refreshing to see posts like this one. He writes, in response to a video clip of Mike Huckabee on Fox talking with Emily and Chuck Colson about her son and his grandson Max who has autism,

Although I am not a fan of religion in general, I love the commitment to family and to love beyond oneself that faith often awakens in others.  This segment from Mike Huckabee's show on Fox News demonstrates how Christian values can open up a deeper and more meaningful conversation about people with autism than what we usually see on TV.

Time and time again, I've seen disability ministry catch the attention of secular groups or media. Let's be a church characterized by radical love for others, such that those who admit "not [to be] a fan of religion in general" commend what we're doing!

These definitions of the fruit of the Spirit by Tim Keller - the definition, opposites, and counterfeits - are useful for how we can minister and live as believers. (Thanks, Kim, for the heads up on this one!)


This article ran in The Salt Lake Times this week: Churches must welcome special-needs children It raises some good points, but I'm a little perturbed by the headline: special needs ministry is not just a children's ministry thing. Our Joy Class had a party this weekend in which adults with disabilities were celebrated as part of our church body as well. My role in our church is focused more on children's and student ministries while another volunteer, Katie, and her team do an excellent job serving alongside adults with disabilities. It's illogical to welcome kids with special needs if you plan to exclude them once they grow up.


 And now, a couple of churches doing it well:

• a church hosting support groups for siblings of children with special needs
• a church beginning a worship service that is welcoming to people with disabilities

Finally, Joni & Friends held a Through the Roof conference this past weekend, equipping church leaders to engage in disability ministry. Join me in praying for all those who attended and who return to their churches this week to put some of what they learned into practice.

Pat Robertson's view of Alzheimer’s and divorce: Not just wrong, but dangerous

My heart ached today as I read this introduction to Russell Moore's post:

This week on his television show Christian broadcaster Pat Robertson said a man would be morally justified to divorce his wife with Alzheimer’s disease in order to marry another woman. The dementia-riddled wife is, Robertson said, “not there” anymore. This is more than an embarrassment. This is more than cruelty. This is a repudiation of the gospel of Jesus Christ. 

The opinion Robertson gave is wrong. It is not supported by scripture. I could write an entire post on why his words fly in the face of biblical teaching about both earthly marriage and the union between Christ and the church. Moore has already done an excellent job of explaining that, though, so I suggest you read his post.

When it comes to people with special needs, from the littlest ones to the elderly wife he said the husband could divorce, Robertson's words are more than wrong. They are dangerous.

If it's okay to say that a husband can desert his wife because she is "not there" anymore, what else is okay? How about a parent deserting a child because she can't communicate verbally? Or aborting a child because he has a disability? Or telling the world that you wish you could have had an abortion so your child wouldn't have to watch other kids run and play without being able to join in? Or what about a judge forcing a couple to fight to adopt a child with a disability because that judge doesn't think the child deserves anything more than a sterile institution? If it's okay to walk away from marriage because your wife isn't cognitively there anymore, then why aren't all of those things okay too?

Or, to return to the topic of marriage for a moment, how about me? When we were dating, my husband and I charted out several lengthy rock-climbing adventures we planned to do one day. Rock climbing was a passion we shared and loved together, and we expected it to be a major part of our married lives too, at least while we were younger. We also each wrote on our premarital counseling surveys that I would probably be the one to get up during the night with the kids. We didn't know I would have two chronic and incurable diseases before our second wedding anniversary, health conditions that make sleepless nights much harder for me (so he's the one to get up with the kids, not me) and that ended our rock climbing plans (though I still have them saved because those dreams are still precious to remember). Would it be okay for my husband to walk away because our lives are vastly different than we planned and because he has to do more to support and care for me than we ever anticipated at this stage in our lives? Thank God that the answer is no!

And what about a church that says it's just too hard to include people with disabilities, especially those who might not be able to understand basic theological instruction? If it's okay for a husband to divorce his wife who has Alzheimer’s, then logic would allow the church to neglect those who we deem to be "not there" by our standards. Neither is acceptable.

I opened with Russ Moore's words about this, and I'll close with them as well, because he nails it far better than I could:

Sadly, many of our neighbors assume that when they hear the parade of cartoon characters we allow to speak for us, that they are hearing the gospel. They assume that when they see the giggling evangelist on the television screen, that they see Jesus. They assume that when they see the stadium political rallies to “take back America for Christ,” that they see Jesus. But Jesus isn’t there.

Jesus tells us he is present in the weak, the vulnerable, the useless. He is there in the least of these (Matt. 25:31-46). Somewhere out there right now, a man is wiping the drool from an 85 year-old woman who flinches because she think he’s a stranger. No television cameras are around. No politicians are seeking a meeting with them.

But the gospel is there. Jesus is there.