Broken, but not that way

I am broken…

I have disabilities. I have two chronic illnesses and a learning disability (yes, adults can and do have learning disabilities and yes, they still affect us, even when we are not in school, but that is another blog posting for another day). Between them, my diagnoses affect how I sleep, how and what I eat, my relationships, my finances, my breathing, my work, even my driving.

I am broken…but maybe not the way you think.

Throughout human history, the myth of an “ideal” version of humanity has been repeated until it is believed. Over the years, this has come in different forms: the myth of being male as “ideal”, the myth of being white as “ideal”, the myth of one culture being more “ideal” than another. In all of these myths, there is a basic theme: if you are not a part of the “ideal”, you are “less than”.
Then there is the myth of ability: a whole, sound mind and body, as defined by science and culture, is the “ideal”. Anything else is “less than”. That’s made clear even in the language we use: disability, literally “not able”. A victim. A problem. Broken.

Over the years, we as Christians have allowed the myth of ability to co-op and warp our perceptions of those who are not typically-abled. Even the early Church Fathers, who took the radical approach of establishing hospitals that were for the care and cure of those with disabilities (unheard of in their cultures during the 3rd and 4th centuries), struggled with this. They welcomed and cared for all, but their patients were not allowed to become leaders, pastors, bishops (Disability and the Christian Tradition, Swinton and Brock, 2012). They were brothers and sisters to be cared for and assisted, but not individuals, gifted and called by God for his purposes.

Several months ago, I had a conversation with someone around this subject. In articulating my belief that the church needs to seek inclusion of and reconciliation with those with disabilities or who are not “typically abled”, I compared it to the need for reconciliation and inclusion of those marginalized due to race and/ or gender. This person responded that by comparing disability to gender and race, the implication was that gender and race were deficits, which they are not. I responded, “I agree. Neither is disability a deficit.”

I am broken…but not because of my disability.
We all are broken…and equal in our brokenness. I am a sinner, saved by grace, justified by love, overwhelmed by mercy from the Cross that I did not deserve. Sinner, but saved. Depraved, but redeemed. Broken…but healed.

I am broken…and called.

Scripture declares it!

Ephesians 2:10

"For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do."

 

Not only that, but scripture says those that may be seen by others as “weak”, “less honorable” or “unpresentable”, are equally called and gifted, essential to the function of the Body, Christ’s church.

1 Corinthians 12:14-27

"Now the body is not made up of one part but of many. If the foot should say, “Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,” it would not for that reason cease to be part of the body. And if the ear should say, “Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body,” it would not for that reason cease to be part of the body. If the whole body were an eye, where would the sense of hearing be? If the whole body were an ear, where would the sense of smell be? But in fact God has arranged the parts in the body, every one of them, just as he wanted them to be. If they were all one part, where would the body be? As it is, there are many parts, but one body. The eye cannot say to the hand, “I don’t need you!” And the head cannot say to the feet, “I don’t need you!” On the contrary, those parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable, and the parts that we think are less honorable we treat with special honor. And the parts that are unpresentable are treated with special modesty, while our presentable parts need no special treatment. But God has combined the members of the body and has given greater honor to the parts that lacked it, so that there should be no division in the body, but that its parts should have equal concern for each other. If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it. Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it."

 

What would happen to a part of our own bodies if we fail to use it? If we coddle it because we see it as weak, injured or fragile? If we ignore it because we are sure we don’t need it? If we think that working it, exercising it, using it, would take too much time and effort? If we pretend we don’t see it, hoping it will go away?

What would happen? We all know the answer. That part would weaken, atrophy and the tissue may even die. The only way to strengthen a weak part of our bodies is to utilize it.

The truth is that when the Body of Christ ignores, pities, and fails to utilize the gifts of those brothers and sisters with disabilities, we choose to atrophy. We, the Body, cease to function as God designed us to.

When we approach those who have disabilities from the standpoint of “how can I help?” instead of “how can I come alongside and work with you?” we miss out on the ways God works through each of us. Not only do we deprive our brothers and sisters of opportunities to do that which they are called to, but we miss out on the opportunity to see the work of God in a new light. That’s not to say that everyone doesn’t need help up from time to time. I do. You do. We do. That is the nature of true community. But what if the person who is giving you a hand up has depression, is in a wheelchair, can’t speak, has schizophrenia, cancer, ADHD, diabetes or epilepsy? What if the person giving you a hand up, doesn’t have hands?

I am broken…but not in that way.

The seasons of grief and Psalm 73

Recently, during the opening devotions of our church staff meting, one of our pastors read Psalm 73: 21-28, then asked us to rewrite it in our own words.  Not a translation, not an official paraphrase, but rather how this Psalm spoke to us.  A few staff chose to share their versions with us. As they read what they had written, each shared a different way that this passage had connected with them. What a beautiful reminder that the Word is alive!
 
For me, this passage spoke of my journey through the seasons of grief that I have been in and am still moving through: the anger, the pain, the comfort, the hope. Three years ago this month, my dad lost his wife of 30 years, the boys lost an amazing grandma and I lost my Mum, my step-mom, my third parent and one of my closest friends.  Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately), grief is not a 5 point to-do list that we can check off and be done.  It must be named, looked at, handled, wrestled with, walked with, sometimes even danced with. And it must be surrendered to the One who brings healing and peace. To the One who never leaves us even in the darkest nights and deepest valleys. To the One who is our hope.
 
This is how the Word spoke to me through Psalm 73:21-28.

Lord, my sorrow is evident and my grief is just below the surface.

I lash out in my pain and anger at those around me

And turn my back to You

But You remain faithful

You do not let me go

You speak your words of comfort and correction

My home will always be with You

Lord, what do I have but You?

Nothing I have is forever

Except You and your great love

My body will break down and I will pass from this earth

But I will always be with You

And You with me

Lord there are those who seek and embrace evil.

They are not of You, even though You call to them

But Lord You are my sanctuary, all I need

I will praise you with my life.

May the Word work in our hearts and minds today and everyday.
Amen

Healing and hope for familes of divorce

I am a "child of divorce".  My parents divorced when I was approximately 1 1/2 years old. Their marriage lasted about 3 years. I don't remember them married and, to be honest with you, I can't picture them married. They married young and out of loneliness.  I suppose the shortness of their marriage is not truly surprising.  Two half people can never make a whole.

This is where the grace of God comes in, as it has so many times in so many lives.  Scripture says:
"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." Rom. 8:28
This is probably one of the most incorrectly quoted passages in the Bible.  Note that Paul does not say that all things are good, rather that God can and does work through all things in our lives to bring about good.

My parents divorce was not good.  There was emotional pain for my parents, as well as my sister and I, upheaval and financial burdens as one home became two, strife between friends and family.  I am thankful to God that over 33 years later much healing and forgiveness has occurred and that my parents chose to unite as parents behind my sister and I in our upbringing.  They are wonderful grandparents whose grandchildren have never heard an angry word uttered between them. God grace has brought the good of healing and forgiveness.

The other good He brought was in the form of my step-mother. Both history and fiction have brought us some fairly ugly representation of step-parents, step-mothers in particular.  They show them to be jealous, callous,unfeeling  and even abusive toward their step-children. While I do not doubt that there are step-parent/step-child relationships like this, I personally know of many step-children and step-parents who have loving relationships, including my own husband and his step-father.

I recently lost my beloved step-mother of 29 years, whom I called "Mum".  I shared at
her service and later shared my remarks with a friend, who told me how encouraging they were for families of divorce and remarriage.

Below is a portion of what I said that day.  I shared it with my own mother, who told me I had "hit the nail on the head".

"Mum was known for her generosity, but I wonder if most people know how much she gave when and where it was least expected.  When I was 10 years old, my mother, Bonnie, my sister and I moved back to Helena from Seattle.  Starting that Christmas and every Christmas, until I left for college and my mother moved to the East Coast, Mum and Dad had us all over for Christmas Day.  Mum and Mom always exchanged gifts.  Mum even included gifts for the foster children that my Mom took in. Mom and Mum always got along. They were respectful and kind to each other despite the awkward circumstances.  It wasn’t until I was older that I realized what a tremendous and generous gift that this was, that most children of divorce have never experienced. Her greatest act of generosity was in accepting my sister and me as her own children without ever seeking to take anything from my mother.

She had a unique role in my life.  She was my third parent, one of my best friends, a wonderful mother-in-law to my husband, and a deeply involved and loving Grandmother. She was my Mum and she will be deeply missed."

I share this not to glorify divorce.  Divorce happens for many reasons and it hurts. Do I believe that with God a couple can experience hope and healing in their marriage? Absolutely! But, if divorce and remarriage do come, God can bring hope and healing as well.

"I like that I have ADHD": Speaking into the narrative of our childrens' lives

Ever have one of those amazing conversations with your kids?  The ones you have when you least expect it, doing the most ordinary things?  The ones that remind you that you, in many ways, have as much to learn from your child as they do from you?  A few years ago, I had just such a conversation with my then eight year old.  And, as they so often do, this conversation happened in our mini-van, just driving down the street (it's a very strange thing, but we almost always have the BIG talks in our van: salvation, sex, baptism,  and even anarchy-but I'll share that one another time).  From the seat behind me came these words:       
                                     "I like that I have ADHD."

He then proceeded to list all the things he liked about himself that could be attributed to having ADHD:
  -I have a lot of energy.
  -I am creative.
  -I'm a good problem solver.
  -I notice things that not very many other people do.
I agreed that these things were in true.  Then I asked him how he knew these things about himself.  His response? "You told me." I did?

While I could (and may) write a posting about how "able" kids (and adults) with ADHD are, that's not what I learned through this conversation with our son. What I was reminded of was this: the influence we have over our child's narrative.

When our boys each received their respective diagnoses, it was important to my husband and I that we help them understand first of all that there is nothing "wrong" with them, but rather that they have some challenges that we as a family, along with their teachers, doctors and counselors, we're going to help them learn to live and succeed with. The reality is that most children who have ADHD will not "outgrow it", as was previously believed (hence the recent upsurge in adult diagnoses as medical and mental health professionals are beginning to recognize that this is not just a children's issue), so they need to be aware that these challenges will affect them long term. However, we also wanted them to know that ADHD has also contributed to many of their strengths and so, in that way, is a gift. As with so many of the hurdles in life, this comes with challenges and blessings.  Our prayer is that God truly helps them "hear" these things.

Our child's "story" (or our own, for that matter) does not start when they 30 or 25 or 18.  In Psalm 139, we are told that God knows everyone's story, intimately, even before we are created:
                              
              "All the days ordained for me
               were written in your book
               before they even came to be." (vs. 16, NIV)

Our children's narrative is a life long sculpting by them and God, and yet we, as parents are called to play a critical role as collaborators in that story.  He chose to put this child in our lives. As we are awed and overjoyed, exhausted and impatient, humbled and overwhelmed, God comes along side and reminds us in little and big ways, that we are helping to shape our child's story. 

I can so easily get bogged down in the ways I may have spoken impatience and frustration, monotony and mediocrity, criticism and complaint into my child's life.  It is important to recognize these things, address them and seek forgiveness for them. It is equally important to recognize those times, when God reminds us of the good, that by his grace working through us, despite our sinful nature, we have breathed into our child's story.  Most of all, we need to remember how our influence helps shape our child's story.  My prayer is that it will keep them coming back to God's story.

Up Late

I find myself wakeful tonight, praying for courage and wisdom. I find myself saying "No one tells you how to do this"..."this" being how to handle the terminal illness of a parent. Interestingly, when a life is brought into this world their parents are inundated with advice, strategies, opinions (solicited and not). There is a bountiful harvest of books, DVDs, classes and even CD's to make baby smarter in-utero.

But at the end of life, where is the knowledge then? Yes, there are books, probably even DVDS, though not nearly as many. There are those who offer prayer and concern, but don't know what else to say. Who tells you how to take care of retirement accounts and how to comfort the parent left behind? How to explain to your children when God chooses not to heal Grandma, as your wrestle with your own questions?

I named my blog 924 Mark in honor of a father who resonates with me every time I read Mark 9:24..."I believe. Help me overcome my unbelief". Let that be my cry as I take this journey with Him.