Four reasons I am thankful for our special needs ministry team

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In disability ministry, we are regularly faced with the reality that God is sovereign in ways that we can't always see, understand, or explain. As such, it is foolhardy to create a ministry that requires your presence.

This is more acutely on my mind right now as I rest my knee and await my appointment with the orthopedic surgeon. My MRI showed an uncommon friction syndrome in my right knee that is difficult to treat and heal, complicated by bone erosions and cartilage damage due to rheumatoid arthritis. I'm not sure what the next steps will be but the current treatment involves rest, ice, and pain meds. And we have our first respite care event this Saturday afternoon. 

If I didn't have an amazing team and a trustworthy God, I might be freaking out right now. But I know God is in control, and I know that I can trust any member of our leadership team to run the event if I couldn't be there. Why?
  1. Because they are each passionate that this matters. I don't think I can claim responsibility for that passion, but I do begin most planning meetings with a verse and a story or statistic to stress the importance of what we're doing. It helps us all remember that we're not just putting on an event; we're loving these families because Christ first loved us.
  2. Because they know what's going on. We've made decisions together. I've filled them in on ones I've had to make without them. The youngest member of our team - who is still in high school - has been valued as much as those of us with more qualifications on paper. Each of us has a slightly different job this Saturday, but we each know the roles of the other team members. With the exception of our medical team leader, we could rotate jobs without much difficulty.
  3. Because I trust them and they know that I trust them. We're not an incredibly experienced team when it comes to church event planning. The average age of the six of us is 25. We're all young enough that we're not the typical go-to folks for steering committees. But each of our team members lives up to these words from 1 Timothy 4:12: "Let no one despise you for your youth, but set the believers an example in speech, in conduct, in love, in faith, in purity."
  4. Because nothing we do is designed around any person other than Jesus Christ. I have seen many ministries flourish under their founders' leadership and then disintegrate when he or she steps away because no plans were made for anyone else to lead. Disability ministry is too important for me to let that happen. Additionally, the limitations of two chronic illnesses keep me mindful that I need to plan for days when I can't be 100%. If I need to direct our respite event on Saturday from a chair, it will go just fine because it doesn't depend on me. It's not about me. "The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps." (Proverbs 16:9)
None of the families in our ministry expected to have a family member with a disability, but God ordained disability to be part of their lives anyway. Likewise, you have expectations for your ministry and your life...and God might, in His wisdom, change those without your permission. 

Access Ministry at Providence Baptist Church in Raleigh, NC, does not depend on me. I'm not in charge; God is. I just get the privilege of having a front-row seat to watch what God is doing to impact families in this ministry, and I'm humbled by the opportunities He provides that allow me to be involved in His work.

For by the grace given to me I say to everyone among you 
not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think, 
but to think with sober judgment, each according to the measure of faith that God has assigned.
For as in one body we have many members, and the members do not all have the same function,  
so we, though many, are one body in Christ, and individually members one of another.
Romans 12:3-5

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.