you never know (so make the most of every opportunity to show grace)

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On Friday evening, my husband ventured out to Wal-Mart with the kids to let me rest my knee in a quiet house. Because we needed some staple items, he decided to take our son and daughter, ages 2.5 and 4.5 respectively, to the store, knowing that running errands with them can be an adventure.

And, let's be honest, Wal-Mart on a Friday night is its own adventure.

The kids did well, though Cocoa Puffs - which we don't usually have in the Dingle house - ended up in the cart, as did a few other items that the kids convinced Daddy that they needed. Toward the end of the trip, Robbie - tired from a long day and less than an hour from bedtime - plopped on the floor and rolled across the aisle. In doing so, he blocked a woman's cart.

Lee scooped Robbie up and apologized to the woman, but evidently that wasn't enough for her.

"Where is their mother?" she asked, with no malice in her tone but no kindness either.

"She's at home resting," he replied.

"I wish I had her phone number so I could let her know how little control you have over the children. You should thank her when you get home for taking care of them."

It took Lee a moment to realize what she had just said, and she was gone before he could reply. Her tone had not been sharp, but her words had. Flustered, he grabbed the wrong item from the shelf and had to go back later to get the right thing.

Neither of our kids has any special needs, but she didn't know that. From the brief encounter she had with them, he couldn't have known that Robbie didn't have autism or another disability that might have made a trip to the store more challenging.

And, let's be honest, the diagnosis of being a two-year-old boy just before bedtime is enough to make a trip to the store plenty difficult, don't you think?

After I stopped fuming about the careless words the Wal-Mart shopper had dropped on my kind husband who was blessing me with a restful evening, I thought about a different shopping trip a few months ago. I was at a different grocery store by myself when a little girl - I would guess about five or six years old - had a meltdown. Her wailing could be heard in nearly every corner of a large store. For the next thirty minutes until they checked out, the child screamed and screeched. I passed them twice and exchanged brief smiles with the mother each time. I didn't offer any encouragement or offer to help because I wasn't sure how she would respond and because I was nervous about stumbling over my words in Spanish, a language that I speak but not well. I wish I had said something.

I don't know if the girl had a diagnosed disability, but I do know that they were having a rough evening. I don't know if other shoppers showed any kindness to this family, but I'm glad I had the opportunity to offer a couple of smiles. You never know what the realities are for a family or what that day has been like for them. (I try to keep that in mind on Sunday mornings and not take offense to any harsh words, because I have no idea what that morning has been like in the hurried attempt to get to church.)

I do know, though, that I will have more opportunities, and you will too. My prayer is that we both will make the most of every opportunity.

Be very careful, then, how you live—not as unwise but as wise, 
making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil. 
Ephesian 5:15-16 (NIV)

Special needs ministry weekly round-up {9/26/11}

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Happy Monday! I hope you're having a great day. I'm heading out to my pastor's farm today with the rest of our church's Family Discipleship team to plan and play and pray together. Would you mind taking a moment to pray for us, that God would make our time fruitful? Also, today I will hopefully find out the results of Saturday's MRI on my knee; pray not only for the results but also for my reaction to them to glorify God.

And, now, notable links related to special needs ministry that I came across this week...

I've linked to her before because her content is consistently among the best of special needs parenting blogs, but Ellen at Love That Max has a post about disability ministry: Worshiping with children who have special needs: Help me, G-d The post and comments represent a wide swath of religious perspectives, and all of them are helpful reading if you want to understand the need for and challenges of disability ministry.

Parents, are you hindering your children? This article, drawn in part from Joel Beeke's latest book, Parenting by God's Promises, breaks down six ways that parents can hinder their child's spiritual growth, such as, "We ourselves do not go to Jesus. If we do not go to Jesus, how can we expect our children to do so?" A tough read, but a good one.  

When are kids most at risk of aggressive behavior at church? The title is self-explanatory, and the post will help you consider Sunday morning in a new way for kids prone to aggressive behaviors. (By the way, this blogger - Dr. Steve Grcevich from Key Ministry - has two series on his blog right now: one announcing the line-up for Inclusion Fusion, a free web-based conference for special needs ministry, and one on this topic. I think it would be wise for you to subscribe to his blog for both.)

Jacynthe is a 26-year-old Canadian woman works for an autism advocacy group, mentoring individuals with autism. She also helps organize and prepare for communion at her church. And she herself has autism. This article about her work and the award she'll be receiving, the Community Achievement award at the second annual International Naturally Autistic People Awards and Convention, is a great reminder that those with disabilities have a lot of contribute to their local churches. We are missing out if the church is not a welcoming place for Jacynthe and others with special needs!

My friend Katie posted about an awesome way that God used writing, disability, and parenthood to weave lives together in a way only he can. 

You know I'm a big advocate of special needs adoptions, so I loved seeing this blog post about one family's experience. My heart went pitter-pat at this line: "We adopted a special-needs child, not because he was the best we could do, but because he was an amazing child, who happened to have some special-needs."

And here's another special needs adoption story. This stood out to me: "...Diane felt a connection and found a member of staff who could tell her more about the girl. ‘Trust me,’ the member of staff told her, ‘raising this child will be a lifelong struggle. You just don’t want her.’ But they did. ‘If you tell Bernie and I that we can’t do something, we will do everything in our power to prove you wrong,’ says Diane. ‘And we just knew that she needed us.’"

The time I've spent resting my knee this week meant I caught up on some blog reading, including this gem from Jeff McNair at disabled Christianity: Helping those who may not realize they're being wounded

Six Reasons to Be a Faithful Member of a Local Church: Which could also be considered six reasons that we shouldn't create boundaries to involvement for families with special needs.

One more safety consideration for your ministries: Study find that having ADHD doubles a child's risk of injury. The more you know about successfully including kids with ADHD, the safer your church will be.

He Got the Picture, But At What Price? The picture that held the answers behind the tragic plane crash at a flight show recently was taken by a boy with autism who had become fixated on both airplanes and photography. His mom writes about the bittersweet experience, including what they've learned and how you can pray for them.

The How-To's of Accessibility: This lengthy but insightful article covers a lot of bases and a lot of religious angles, including other faiths, and it's worth the read, especially for the South Park reference at the end.

The fake thing we sometimes pray for: Jon Acuff is the most witty Christian with a unibrow I've ever not met. In other words, I'm a fan. He wrote last Wednesday about our tendency to turn to pray for clarification as a stall tactic for not going out and doing what God has already commanded. Should we include people with disabilities in our congregations? Scripture is clear that the answer is yes. We don't need to pray for God to clarify if we should. As Jon writes, "if you’re like me, chances are, there’s something you’ve been holding back on. Some call, some action, some step you’ve got to take. And today is the time to stop asking for clarity and instead start asking for courage. The courage to get started."

What is a worship disruption? Mark Stephenson, the disability ministry blogger for the Christian Reformed Church in North America, writes about news stories and his own family's experience of worship with a child with a disability who can, at times, be disruptive. 

And speaking of possible disruptions, this post from a mom gives solid tips so that you don't complicate a child's outburst. 

And some news stories of churches who are rolling out the welcome mat for people with disabilities:
Have a great Monday!

    You don’t know their story, but you know grace.

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    I mentioned yesterday that I’m limping. And that God is teaching me as I limp.

    You see, my knee doesn’t bend on its own most of the time now. Over the weekend, the pain was excruciating, but right now it’s just uncomfortable and inconvenient. Because no other joints are flaring up and because I’m not running the low-grade fever I usually have with a flare, odds are good that this issue isn’t due to active disease. Yes, what’s happening is the direct result of rheumatoid arthritis, but my disease is being held at bay with my IV meds. Right now we’re dealing with problems due to damage from previous disease activity.

    Let me pause to give a little bit of a rheumatoid arthritis primer: 
    • It’s an autoimmune disease, as is one other condition I have. In simplest terms, my immune system is an ignorant overachiever. 
    • Overachiever, because it does what it’s supposed to do – fight off illnesses – and then it goes even further. That’s where the ignorant part comes in. My immune system fights bad stuff…and then ignorantly fights a couple of a good things, which include my thyroid gland and the lining of my joints. 
    • With RA, you can also have inflamed lungs, heart, and eyes – which I haven’t experienced – as well as a higher rate of serious infections like MRSA and c. diff – which I have experienced, though I've thankfully been infection-free for nine months. 
    • What most people know about RA, though, is the joint problems. The lining of my joints – called synovium - is attacked by my immune system, and the joint becomes red and swollen and painful. Since that occurs from the inside out, the bones and cartilage in the joint rub against the swollen synovium. That friction results in erosions in bone, deterioration of cartilage, and creation of bone spurs.
    When I say that my present knee problem isn’t the result of active disease, I mean that the synovium doesn’t seem to be inflamed. Right now, my immune system isn’t misbehaving. The problem is that previous inflammation has weakened my knee – both the bones and the cartilage – so that the joint is functioning more like a rusty hinge than a fresh one. I'll have an MRI tomorrow to figure out what the (probably surgical) solution will be.

    If you look at my knee, you can’t see anything wrong. It’s a little puffy, but you won’t notice that unless you look closely. From the outside, you wouldn’t notice that I’m anything other than a typical 29-year-old mom. You wouldn’t guess that previous damage is impacting my ability to walk right now.

    Likewise, when you meet a family member of a person with a disability – for example, a parent – you don’t know what previous damage has occurred. Has a church rejected them? Did a ministry leader elsewhere promise to love their child but fail to follow through? Have they spent the previous week fighting for basic services for their child from a school or insurance company? Did they have their parenting abilities questioned at a previous church when people misunderstood their child’s disability? 

    Parents at my church have shared stories of each of those situations with me, and they each brought their own damage. Some are so used to the fight that they have trouble trusting that our motives are genuine. Others are hesitant to even trust us with basic information about a disability, choosing not to disclose any information if the disability isn’t physically obvious. And some seem unfriendly until you realize that they’re simply exhausted.

    If you aren’t aware that damage could be lurking under the surface of my knee, you might wonder why I stay sitting even when my kids want me to run and play with them. 

    And if you aren’t aware that damage could be lurking under the surface of their lives, you might get frustrated if a parent is pushy or cryptic or disengaged.

    You don’t know their story. But, if you know Jesus, you do know his – the story of a love so powerful that the Father sent his Son to live a sinless life, die a sinner’s death, and rise from the dead. the story of a Savior taking the penalty we deserve so that we can receive the reward he deserves. the story of grace.

    You don’t know their story, but you know grace. Show that grace to others, fueled by the power of the One who does knows my story and your story and their stories.

    Choosing joy.

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    When I was first diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis, I found that my blog encouraged new and old friends in a whole new way. One of my favorite passages in scripture is Daniel 3, and my heart's desire is to reflect the same trust in the same God that Hananiah, Azariah, and Mishael trusted. He is wholly trustworthy, even when my joints are not.

    Today I wrote on my disability ministry blog that I don't want to be noticed for my limp but that I don't mind people noticing the limp if they notice my God in the process. While I would love for you to check out that post, I also wanted to come back here to talk a little more personally.

    It's been a tough week. A week and a half ago, I was considering going on a mile run in the beautiful weather. (I didn't, thankfully.) The next day my knee started acting up, not from an active RA flare but from previous damage to bone and cartilage caused by previous flares and a few injuries from my childhood. By Saturday, my knee started painfully locking into a straight position. Sunday morning I broke down in tears at one point, frustrated that my mobility was limited when I really wanted to poke my head into a few Sunday school classes to check on some of my kids. (And by "my kids," I mean the ones who are supported by Access Ministry. I can't check on Dingle kids on Sunday morning without having them cry to join Momma!) By Monday, I was nearly ready to make reservations for a pity party: Shannon, party of one, please. On Tuesday, I had steroids injected into my knee, and I'll spend Saturday morning in an MRI tube to figure out which (probably surgical) option we'll be considering next.

    Since Saturday, I've been fighting against the pity party. I know it won't do any good, but it's still enticing. A few friends have been on their knees on my behalf, fighting that pity party desire for me. And I am thankful.

    Something happened last night to change that. I'm not fighting the pity party anymore.

    Don't worry! I'm not giving in, either. I just don't desire a pity party now. It's not tempting to go there anymore.

    You see, I could count on a blogger I've never met to help me get out of my pity party mode in the past. Sara wrote for {in}courage, but she also has another blog called GitzenGirl. Sara's disease, Ankylosing Spondylitis, has a lot in common with rheumatoid arthritis. In fact, AS and RA are much more similar than RA and osteoarthritis are, so much so that my friend Kelly (aka RA Warrior) is hoping to get the name of RA changed so that "arthritis" isn't even in it. RA, like AS, is systemic but also affects specific joints; both can wreak havoc in specific spots as they weaken the rest of your body as well. And both are treated with the same arsenal of drugs, like my trusty Remicade.

    Sara is allergic to the effective drugs that sustain me, though, so the disease just runs its course for her. Her breathing is labored, her movements cause pain, and her immune-related allergies have flared to the point that she can't go outside. Not for a walk, not to get the mail, nothing. She can't even open the windows to let fresh air in or feel a breeze on her face. This has been her reality for years.

    Yet the tagline of her blog is Choose Joy, and she chose the word praise as her resolution word to define 2011 for her.

    And it will, my friends, in a way she couldn't have known when she chose it back in January. You see, when I stopped by her blog yesterday for the first time in months, I was looking for encouragement. And I found out that Sara is dying. Hospice is there, and she probably won't see October from her current body.

    But, praise God, she knows Jesus and has learned to trust and rejoice in him, despite harder circumstances than many of us will ever face. So praise will define 2011 for her, as she will soon praise our sweet Jesus face to face, able to breathe and move and laugh without pain or tears.

    And I am so privileged to know her. And I can't wait to meet her in heaven one day.

    My blog header will be changing soon in honor of what Sara has taught me. I'll be adding "choose joy" in the corner as a reminder to you, but more importantly as a reminder to me.

    Because why would you ever choose a pity party when joy is the other option?

    Thank you, Sara. Rest well. I will encourage others to choose joy while you praise Jesus beyond the walls of your earthly home and the confines of your sick body.