Lisa Colón DeLay

I’m honored to be a part of Ed Cyzewski’s ongoing series on Doing Justice. I wrote about Nathan, Love, and Justice and if you haven’t read it, or the series, I highly recommend it.

RAILROAD OPEN HOUSE:
JUSTICE + LOVE

Nathan turned 13th on March 8th. The day he was born it was 70 degrees F. The next year it snowed 8 inches. Parenting him has been just as unpredictable. And now we have full-fledged puberty!

Puberty is a hard time for everyone….but for a young man with autism and the family that loves him…it’s harder than “normal”. He’s at once his age (noticing bikini-clad women in commercials, playing video games, growing 6 inches in 18 months, getting acne, fighting with sister, and the rest) and also seems much younger in many ways and can’t grasp things many of his peers do. The phrase “one day at a time” is turning into a mantra I say for sanity.

For a special birthday celebration we opened our house as a kind of Model Railroading, lego display tour with snacks and goodies. We invited loads of people. Grace abounded.

As I’ve reflected further about that day, I sense the presence of God. Those from our church family made special efforts to come. He was lavished with good will, generosity, and affirmation about himself, just as he was. Not a bad day, I’d say!

Here are some photos of the day. (Sorry to say we didn’t get any good video clips.)

Would you like to help Nathan add to his layout?

If so, you can donate to his train layout by clicking here.

(If you’ve donated–Thank you for contributing to Nathan’s passion! We will update photos of his railroad purchases from your generosity in the near future.)

(click for source)

Cool cats used to say, “See you on the flipside.” Apparently when you flip a day onto its back you get another day, not the nighttime.

A cat (yes, I’m talking felines now) works the same way. If you flip a cat over it doesn’t hit its backside, but it’s flipside. The right side. The same side it should be on. A dog? Forget it. It’s a trip to animal hospital.

The flipside of a coin doesn’t work the same as a cat. The flipside of the coin is the other side. It’s the head or the tail: the opposite. Most people want money and not cats.

Is the flipside like the Kingdom of God?

I went to my first Special Olympics to cheer on my son in the swimming event. Backstroke and freestyle. I saw the flipside. The Kingdom of God is like the Special Olympics. Those who are always last in life get a chance to be first. It’s actually fierce competition, in case you’re wondering.

Athletes train for months. 70% of the swimmers would have bested me in the pool despite possessing Downs Syndrome, mental retardation, autism, and so forth. Counted out in every other point, but no more. It was a day of winning and accomplishment.

Athletes are grouped according to skill level, and sometimes, age. Poor swimming form meets with disqualification. Did you get that? You can be disqualified! I was stunned.

So, not everyone gets a medal in S.O.? Nope. Only one athlete gets first place. This makes the victory legit. A first place medal really means something. It really means #1. It really gives an athlete something to fully celebrate and gives a family something to truly cheer about.

The huge difference between the Special Olympics and the typical Olympics and most other sporting events, is that each athlete is treated like a winner. Everyone is acknowledged. No one is a loser. No one puts a mic in their face and says, “What went wrong?” If one flounders in the water…well, like a cat…one still gets a participation ribbon. Everyone is accepted no matter how they do.

This is how we can enact the Kingdom of God right now. Find someone who’s usually last. Economically, socially, culturally, mentally, and then find a way to make them first, to offer and enact true acceptance. It’s the flipside. It’s the righted way of the world as God’s wants it to be.

Will I see you on the flipside?

What are some ideas to reveal the Kingdom of God flipside?

winner

Nathan is my little bunny

I have been observing the spiritual journey of my autistic son, Nathan, quite closely for the last three or four weeks. If you haven’t been following the posts about it, here, this is the short version of the backstory:

Nathan, as of a few months ago, professed to not believing in God. This is a  change from his former beliefs. He now claims that God, the Bible, and the stories of Christianity are “unbelievable stories,” as he says. It’s fake. A fraud.

The undertaking
To me, it seemed like the perfect time to more closely explore spiritual formation (a.k.a. discipleship) and theology as it pertains to disability. Besides encouraging Nathan in his spiritual formation (no matter how messy or personally unsettling or uncomfortable), I’ve hoped to learn from him, and share my findings. This includes studying on the theology of disability, and documenting Nathan’s time of exploration, with respect for my son’s unique spiritual growth process and experience of the world. For my readers, I’ve hoped to encourage deeper thought and consideration about spiritual growth, and the nature of God.

Where things are now
My attention to Nathan’s beliefs and journey, and the recording of them have reached a blockade. Nathan has expressed that he does not want to be filmed, and wants to not speak about the subject. He’s not ready to go about things this way. I will respect this. His basic sentiment is emotional, and preferential, not logical or given to dialogue. So, I will to put this closer study (at least of him, in a personal way) on hold, until a time comes when it seems productive to pick up with it again. I’ll post about it, occasionally, as insights, changes, or advancements occur. This story is far from over.

Bunny Studies
I got up early this morning and went out on the porch with my coffee to enjoy the unseasonably mild morning weather and take in the sights of the creatures that are neighbors with us. We have a few nests, some very vocal birds, several rabbit families, and a very clever chipmunk who has constructed an elaborate series of tunnels that I suspect could be a secret lair. This morning I saw him enter and leave two different homes, scale a brick chimney, shoot into the roof gutter, and out of sight, maybe to the attic of my neighbor’s home. Clearly, he’s up to something.

I saw a mother rabbit and her bunny nibbling at the dewy clover. They were relaxed in their surroundings, and quite hungry. It made me think of one of my favorite children’s stories: The classic called  The Runaway Bunny by Margaret Wise Brown. The bunny hopes to be free from his mother, and tells her all the ways he plans to runaway. The mother rabbit does not tell him stay, but rather shows her steadfast love for him. She accepts his wild heart. She comforts him. For every idea he shares about leaving, she has a plan to love him faithfully and reunite with him. This story was refered to in a theological way profoundly in a  film I saw called Wit starring Emma Thompson. It’s a movie that changed me, and help me see God, better.

Wit was adapted from the play W;t, by Margaret Edson. ( In the context of the play, the semicolon refers to the recurring theme of the use of a semicolon versus a comma in one of John Donne’s Holy Sonnets.) Wit won the 1999 Pulitzer Prize for Drama. The main character, Vivan, a college English professor, is dying of ovarian cancer. At the end, Vivan’s admired, former-professor and mentor comes to visit while she is in town for her great-grandson’s birthday. She comforts her and offers to read to her a Donne sonnet. Vivian, scarcely conscious, declines. So instead, Dr Ashford reads from Margaret Wise Brown‘s The Runaway Bunny, which she had bought for her great-grandson. She remarks that it offers a lovely “allegory of the soul”: Wherever the soul tries to hide, God, comfortingly, will find it. (This section was taken from Wikipedia. Read it in full, here.)

God is our Mother Rabbit. For my son, I am a flesh and blood representation of God to him. I am his mother rabbit, and his is my beloved bunny.

I realize, even more thoroughly than I had realized before, that part of growing up includes the professions of and steps toward independence. Perhaps consistent love faithfulness are the most helpful things we can offer children who are not yet mature enough to make their own way in the world.

Thank you for coming along for this leg of the journey. Your thoughts or comments are quite welcome here.

Engaging mortality (pet dies) 47 sec video.

Here is another (short) installment in exploring the theology of disability and the spiritual growth/development of my autistic son, Nathan (age 11) who has recently claimed that he doesn’t not believe in God (see previous posts).

Part of the spiritual formation process involves engagement with mortality; and so it does for Nathan too. The two fish Nathan caught at the lake recently died in captivity yesterday. He found this very sad. His approach to their passing was very simplistic. They stopped moving, so they are dead. As expected, he wasn’t able to delve into abstract thoughts on this, or death and life, but yet he still understood something profound had happened (see video). Something sort of normal, yet broken about the world seemed real to him. This world is a place were we can be separated from things we care about, in this case, creatures/pets.

On his own, Nathan expressed that he wanted to bury them. This seemed proper to him. The “burial at sea” choice, a.k.a. flushing his two fish friends, seemed unseemly, when I mentioned that some people bury their fish this way.

He took the jar to the garden and added the remains there himself. It was his own idea. Today he said, “[It would] provide nutrients [to the garden]“. He got a bit of a chance to learn that everything dies. I refrained from singing Elton John’s The Circle of Life song from the Lion King. But, it was a “circle of life moment” for sure. Sort of strange and sad and bewildering, yet part of regular life.

A little bit after he buried them, I told him that in heaven we can be with people who have died; people that we miss, and we won’t be separated from them forever. That’s our hope and it can help us to not be as sad. He didn’t seem to be interested, and I didn’t go into it any further. This event may soon open doors for fuller dialogue about life/existence, and the ways of life and death. And I hope redemption!

His sentiment, in general, seemed properly child-like as well as very pragmatic. It will be interesting to hear how he describes the fish, and their death to his sister after we pick her up from camp soon.

Please share your comments or ideas about this.
Question for reflection or comment. How has the death of pets shaped your spiritual formation, or those of your children?

What are your suggestions for guiding others into greater spiritual maturity with this topic at hand?

OH! one more thing. Don’t miss that really interesting look at grief through the primary lens of separation anxiety, here. 

Video’s BACK STORY:

To get an idea of who Nathan is, and how he thinks (a VERY rough estimation) I’ll be posting some video of interviews with him on his thoughts about God, spiritual things, love, truth, Scripture, Christianity, and things that pertain to this delving into his spiritual formation and understanding.

Nathan caught the fish shown in the jar at the lake today. As is sometimes the case, he didn’t want to talk much in general, but through a short series of videos, starting with this one, I hope to flesh out some of his ideas about God, Christianity, the Bible, and what he is like as a person, as his moves to greater maturity.

For a few months he’s had adverse reactions and responses to attending church, to hearing prayer (at home and elsewhere), speaking about God, and the like. What is really going on inside him? I don’t know. Perhaps it is merely pre-adolencent surge of self-expression and independence. Or perhaps, like me and many others, he has to come to terms with God in his own time, and in his own way. As recently as 6 months ago, Nathan claimed to love and believe in the God of the Bible. Now he says that he know longer believes what he did before. Perhaps as I investigate more will come to light.

1st Video (30 sec)

Like all of us, Nathan is a work in progress. My hope is not to compell Nathan to swiftly see things “my way” (your basic Nicene Creed stuff), but rather to engage this perplexing time as a vital part of his growth as a person and a spiritual being made in the image of God…even if that means he goes into some very messy places on the way. Most of us don’t realize just how messy we are.

A few years ago Nathan told me that God’s love was in [him]. I still believe it is. In reality I can’t force him to believe anything. Plus he notices all too well when that is the intension, so it’s incredibility counterproductive to simply debate or convince him.

Part of being a parent is to guide (not command) and be willing to go into challenging territory. This is just that.

I have full confidence in the grace of God (not an angry white, bearded man in the sky, but the Supreme Being of Mercy) to save my son, and meet him where he is, now and for all times.

Nathan has mental challenges, and it is a profound lesson in grace for me to know that my understanding, or lack of understanding about God and reality is not what saves me (or anybody else) from separation from God. I don’t know where this journey will go, or how long I will chronicle it, or discuss it here, but I ask that you join me.

The greater journey here for all of us may involve our own theological concepts that include beliefs, theories, or knowledge of how we come to know God, grace, and move along in spiritual growth/formation. It also raises bigger and more formidable questions like:

• How do the mentally challenged fit (or how well do they fit) into our typical Christian model in the family of God/body of Christ, or a compassionate and healthy society?

• How much do we think our knowledge saves us?

• How do we minister and aid people (of many varieties) in their spiritual understanding and personal growth. And plenty more…

All big questions and I welcome your comments or reflections throughout this process.

SO–What questions would you ask Nathan?

For your own reflection or comment here: What is it about mental disability that may change your ideas of grace/salvation, or put your beliefs, doctrine, or knowledge to the test, if any?

What else is important to explore in this process? (I’m taking input during this process.)

Thanks for your help!
-Lisa

In a strange turn of events over the last few months, my 11 year old son, Nathan has turned into an avowed atheist. I’ll be exploring his spiritual journey, his thoughts, and the theology of disability (Nathan is autistic) for a little while.

I’d love to have your input. Any thoughts, experiences, or stories you’d like to share are encouraged.

-Lisa

Now, Nathan must use every finger digit to show his age.

It was ten years ago today after 14 hours of labor, on an unseasonably 70º day that Nathan came into this world, as our  healthy first born child.

A decade of joy, pain, struggle, triumph, and rewards followed that day. Lots of interventions and therapy of various kinds for his autism. Nathan continues to show us he is one amazing person. He is a special child, and a precious gift from God.

Prayer of Thanksgiving 

God,

Your faithfulness is everlasting. You love endures.

You bind our wounds and cure the hurts of our hearts.

You make each day sweeter, and give us all we need.

Your abundance overwhelms me and dives into my soul.

Thank you for your provision. 

Thank you for your strength.

Thank you for your mercy, and steadfast love.

Thank you for Nathan.

Amen.