Lisa Colón DeLay

I got the great privilege to sit under the wise teaching of Dr Barbara Krasner yesterday. (Contextual therapy and a family systems-centered healing perspective.)

With 48 years of experience as a therapist and scholar can you imagine the depths of her knowledge and understanding? But, probably not.

Every sentence was 9 months pregnant with power and meaning. Each concept could be a textbook of its own. Wisdom. Truly.

Gleanings

One of the things that struck me was that she said the first 10 sessions of therapy is almost wasted. People come with certain expectations or barriers every time they first begin therapy, which delays healing.

• Often we simply just want the other person “fixed”.

• We are too ready and able to blame or judge, which the Dr says has zero value.

• We also hope for magic. They assume she will have powers and skills to quickly produce healing and normalcy for them.

She says that she sees her vocation not as a person who has the answers, or simple fixes, but as one can help others see resources they can use to help themselves. Resources they are unaware of or haven’t considered. Communication resources, options, starting points. She helps them look “under rocks to see what they’ve missed, to see what’s working, even if it’s the most basic thing. They may not realize that hope is a choice for them.

Communication and Transactions

Krasner says it’s important to “simultaneously translate” what a person is saying and what they are intending to say. What is heard is often misunderstood and one’s upbringing plays into how we hear others poorly.

• Understanding the context of the message and the person is critical for coming to points of healing and trust.

The biggest reason people divorce? 

• They cannot disagree and still stay connected.

(This is true for other kinds of troubled relationships also.)

The most important things we can teach our children?

• Forgiveness (With grounding in loving-kindess: Hesed love.)

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.)

(Ross is the one in the hat)

Storyless
-by Ross Gale

I have a friend whose mother tells a story of her as a child: when studying for a third grade test using flash cards, my friend strained to think about the answers. Sometimes her mother would have to say the answers out loud, but even then my friend didn’t seem to connect the dots. She’d keep thinking, the answer too far beyond her. Her mother laughs a bit and says, as a child she was a little stupid. This is the story my friend tells herself, that she is stupid.

When she was in junior high and missing school from an illness, she’d beg her mother to return her to class because she needed to get smarter. She loved school. She did not like being stupid.

She is in her twenties now and the stories her parents tell her influence her. She is an over-achiever in the sense that grades matter to her because they reflect who she is. She’s always trying to prove the story wrong, but she also seems to believe that she’ll never be able to prove it wrong. She’ll always be stupid.

The story my father tells me is about when I was three and he was sick in bed with the flu. Everyone was out of the house for the day so I stayed by my father’s side. I didn’t cry or fuss or ask for anything. I just stayed there because he needed me. My father says I have the biggest heart of anyone he knows. The story tells me something about myself. This is who I believe I am.

The stories parents tell their children about them are stories that shape their identity and purpose.

When Mary and Joseph take their son Jesus to Egypt, I imagine them telling him the stories surrounding his birth, the reason they weren’t living in Palestine, and what the angels had each pronounced to them. Before he knew who he was through Scripture, he knew who he was from his parents’ stories.

When a child is disabled like my brother KC, who had a traumatic brain injury at three, the stories my parents tell are stories about a different boy, they are stories about a boy without a disability who doesn’t have seizures, who can run and play sports, who can graduate high school, who can annunciate his words, and speak clearly. They tell stories about a boy with athletic prowess and a stubborn attitude.

An accident like KC’s, however, renders the stories meaningless. With an accident like KC’s he becomes a storyless boy. How do you shape the identity and purpose of a storyless child? This is the tragedy of tragedy; it robs the power of story.

We have a God who gives us this purpose and identity so even when our stories are harmful or meaningless or shameful or stolen, we can become a part of a new story. God’s story. A story of hope, redemption, and meaning.

Ross Gale is a writer and editor from Oregon. His work is featured in Burnside Writers Collective, Antler, Relief Journal, Archipelago, and he contributes to MagicalTeaching.com. He earned his Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing from Seattle Pacific University. He blogs at rcgale.com where he’s editing the “Bereshit Bara Creativity Series” which asks 13 Creatives to wrestle with questions about what gives them the courage to create.

This is an update sort of post.

It’s been many months since I covered this topic, and for a long time things stayed very much the same with my now 12 year old autistic son being a very firm atheist for over a year.

I was committed to see through Nathan’s spiritual journey without pressuring him to believe what I wanted him to. Because I personally have spent so much of my life dedicated to learning about and loving God, this took iron patience and a new kind of faith. Respecting Nathan’s feelings about God and giving him time to wrestle with the concepts lead to a surprising outcome.

For some needed background, I recommend these two previous posts that set the stage for where we are as I have covered this fascinating journey: 

God: “The Unbelievable Story” (1st Interview with Nathan)

Juvenile Atheism, and Bunny Studies. (a profound update)

1. Shun Meaningful Relationships

• The problem with interpersonal intimacy is that it diminishes one’s ability to hone self-centeredness. Once others start to matter you sometimes have to take them into consideration. Two Words, people: Lone Wolf.

2. Don’t Get Married/Stay Married

• One of the first things you learn, and then continue to learn repeatedly through the years, is that marriage puts your selfishness under a looming, bright, hot spotlight. There is no need to build those skills of negotiating compromise, because unfettered selfishness is crucial to consistently getting what you want.

3. Don’t Be A Good Parent

• From birth children are needy. Constantly, one must put his children’s welfare ahead of his own. Even one’s ambitious and preferences routinely are relegated to second priority, or much worse. All this practice of deferring weakens you, so you hardly ever get whatever you want. I’ve seen this happen a ton of times.

4. Don’t Commit to People or Ideals

• Believing in something, or being loyal, severely compromises your abilities to get whatever you want. One minute you’re doing something nice for someone, or some cause, and the next minute your going well out of your way. Talk about getting derailed!

5. Don’t Grow Compassionate

• As people elicit your pity, or draws you into some sort of endearment, it lights the fuse on the bomb that will eventually explode your efforts to get whatever you want.

Doing Church

Did you know that Church and Relationship are synonyms?

This Thursday was the second week in a row that we had a friend come to play with Nathan. Michael is a year ahead of Nathan at his school. Michael, too, has autism and its noticeable in different and similar ways (more on that some other time). He’s an only child, and making friends is tough. It’s not natural for him, but the opportunities are few as well. Together, we’re changing that.

Having him and his mom here felt like ‘doing church’ in the most wonderful of ways. Their visit warmed my heart. “Church,” in this case, means that it’s the first time in much too long where I could tell that I, no we, were living life together. We were enjoying a deeper connection and community in a natural way. In ways we all hope for when we go to church. It feels like coming home with supper waiting for you. It consists of acceptance, warts, and joys, and all. The common was somehow sacred this Thursday.

My hope it that Michael always knows he’s fully accepted and valued here. He is. I’ve made a kind of internal vow for our home to be a safe and loving place for him to be himself. He’s picked up on that. If his mom’s work schedule allows they’ll be over again this Thursday. He says, “We have a meeting.”

I’ll try to put up some video soon, because the way these two boys interact is so hilarious and sweet, and I know you’ll love it.

Make Your Home “church”
Here are some tips, if you’d like to make your home a welcoming environment for a child with autism, so a visit is something to look forward to and enjoy. (Share this information with your children.)

• Structure. Don’t expect that a child visiting will just play. Or do well if there are toys and game around. For kids, with autism anyway, most must learn simple social skills and interactions and adapt through practice. It’s really awkward at first for them. But, it gets figured out through process. You might want to create something, cook something, or play a short game, all together. Doing something with a beginning, middle, and end will add sense to the visit for them. A free play or open-ended style of interactions won’t lend to a high quality visit.

• Time limit. When Michael visits, he likes to stay for 60-75 minutes. He tells us when he wants to go. This is great, but not all kids will know when enough is enough. This can be hard on everyone involved. Plan the get-together with a defined time frame–from the outset. I suggest 45 mites to start (this depends on the child. 30 minutes for a young child might be better). Later you can move to up to 90 minutes. But play for over 2 hours, or trying for an open ended meet up can be counter-productive. A defined time slot things end on a high note, and it’s fairly easy to prepare for the visit.

• Provide goodies. Ahead of time, ask if there are food preferences or allergy issues, and then make sure to offer a snack and beverage. Food is powerful. Use it wisely.

• Ask Questions. Make an effort to interact personally a few times. Ask a “yes” or “no” question, or an “either/or” question, and indicate your interest and acceptance right away, and along the way. Don’t expect anything, just do it. If it falls flat, try again in a little bit. Be Patient. Children are more like gardens than firecrackers. (So cultivate, rather than expect a dazzling display from a brief “matching”.)

• Issues of Eye Contact and Touch We take these social things for granted and generally know what is acceptable with others, and when and where eye contact and touch it is acceptable. Many disabled children do not. They may kiss you all of a sudden, or never even glance at you. Don’t expect them to make eye contact, and don’t try to touch them unless it seems very obvious that they wouldn’t mind. (Realize that for some kids, it feels painful to be touched. Yes, painful. Same goes for eye contact.) That being said, once I’ve built trust, I find kids really appreciate and respond well to a hand on the shoulder or back, or light pressure/touch on the arm, and they warm up to me very quickly. Since sometimes others are afraid to touch them (because they’ve seen big reactions), or because they don’t have friends they interact with closely, they are sort of touch-starved. Acceptable and respectful touch will establish trust. It’s surprising.

• Notice Stuff. Maybe mention that they look good in red, they are wearing cool shoes, or that they’re getting big and strong. See them. Then, say something to let them know. This shows them that they matter to you. Make concrete comments (facts) to them, about them. It gives them a sense of personhood, or place…at the table, if you will.

• Talk to the parents. This might seem obvious, but I’m always surprised at how much the parents of disabled children feel relieved to interact and relax with conversation and company. Encourage this. They don’t often get to “feel human” because of all the stress that goes along with caring for their child. (They’re “going” or “on” all the time. It’s exhausting.)

• Follow Up. Plan ahead for the next time, soon. Set up something that day, or within a week, to have another time together. If we don’t do this, it falls off our radar. Use a pen and mark the calendar. Consistency is key.

Are you “doing church” with anyone? Why or why not?

Verse of Reflection: 

^{Matthew 25:44-45} “Then they will reply, ‘Lord, when did we ever see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and not help you?’

“And he will answer, ‘I tell you the truth, when you refused to help the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were refusing to help me.’

Questions, comments, suggestions?

Nathan is weird. Embrace it! (Pssssst. You're weird too.)

I’m taking a Theology of Disabilities course right now. I have to admit that some baggage that I didn’t realize I was carrying has gotten heavy. I’m putting it down, starting now. The truth is, I realize I have felt disappointed by the church, and by my church. I’m hurt that the church has failed so badly in helping the disabled (specifically my disabled child) feel like they really belong. It’s not just about allowing the disabled to be there near us, it’s about really knowing them, and really appreciating who they are, because God made them, and they are valuable.

Ya see, times have changed. When I grew up in the 1980s, we’d all make fun of kids that “rode the short bus”…maybe not to their face, but imitating “Tards” was something I excelled at. I was hilarious. I was the disabled one, if we’re telling the truth here. I was spiritually retarded. God gave me a precious gift in my son to show me God’s true heart. To show me my true humanity. The disabled personify the weakness we avoid. Nathan helps me get over my human/secular and foolish ideas about what it means to belong and be successful in God’s worldview.

Here’s the other cool thing. God gave me Nathan to share with you, too!

I think, my generation still fears the disabled. I doubt many will dare admit it. (It’s not politically correct, and we can’t look like uncaring jerks, right?) To most of us, the disabled are still a stigmatized and strange group; and we don’t know what to do with them…we don’t know what to do around them…we aren’t sure what they need. It’s all quite uncomfortable. Gosh, we are so glad we are not them. And we’re afraid. Afraid of the unknown and the unfamiliar, and the “other”.

Here’s the surprising twist. Our (non disabled) kids don’t have the same mentality. They don’t. Over the last 10-20 years, those with disabilities haven’t been sent away to special schools. They have been included, or in far closer proximity to typically developing children. The secular, public schools have outdone, and surpassed the church in this area of grace. They have honored and accepted disabled kids more than the church.

Please. Read those 2 previous sentences again…Slowly. Okay, never mind. I’ll just state it again: They (secular institutions and those who are a part of them) have honored and accepted disabled kids more than the church has.

(Yes. You should feel convicted right now. Even crying wouldn’t be over-the-top.)

As a Parent:
As the mom of a disabled child, I find that typically developing children, with just the a little bit of prompting or advice, adjust very well to interacting with my son, as if he’s a real human being who desires friendship. They even enjoy him! (It’s not just charity. It’s reciprocal friendship. It’s the kind of relating where everyone wins.)

On the other hand, I find that it is the parents of these (non disabled) children who are fearful, and unwilling to engage with my son, beyond the superficial. They are fearful enough to not help their child build friendships, or regularly interact with a disabled peer, or near-peer. They don’t create an easy opportunity for their child to grow, learn and become more compassionate. They don’t make it priority. As a child’s primary guide, this is a gross failure.

Church:
But this is different at church, right? It’s a place of acceptance, and hospitality, and belonging, right? God’s love is shown in tangible ways, right? WRONG. My son has more meaningful relationships and friendships, and more grace shown to him with unChristians, in secular (even godless) environments, and with neighborhood children. (See, the government schools have been telling them that these atypical kids were worth interacting with.)

KIDS @ PLAY
Once upon a time, I bemoaned to a woman at church the fact that Nathan had no friends at church, no meaningful interactions with any church children, no invitations extended to him to play with them, go to their birthday parties, or even watch a movie together (even after we had make a lot of efforts to create those situations, and occasions). Her reply, “Well, I can’t force my kids to play with certain kids, and to like certain friends.”

I listened to her statement, and I didn’t really know what to say. I didn’t challenge it. After all, this was a pastor’s wife talking. An example for us all. (I kid.) Upon reflection, I should have said, “LIKE HELL YOU CAN’T!”

As parents, we do it all the time. We curb or we encourage friendships for our kids regularly. Do we let our kids hang out with teenagers on the corner who are smoking? Uh, no. Does a naughty and petulant child get to sleep over? No. What about the children who bite, hit, or cuss? Do they get to make cookies in our kitchen with us? Nope. We influence our kids all the time. The fact is fear stops our hospitality. We stick with our comfort level, and pick our favorites.

I’m here to tell you that God has given us these different sounding and acting people as gifts, to teach us so much, but we don’t choose to interact, learn and be gracious.

“But I can’t find a disabled kid… What am I supposed to do?”
Well, try harder. Open your eyes. Ask around. Do you want the truth? The facts? Here they are: Do you live near 5 other homes? If you walk down your street, and pass 5 homes, 1 of those homes will be effected by disability.  1/5 of families are effected by disability everyday. 

Do you know more than 6 children? If you know 6 children, 1 of them is likely to have a form of autism, or developmental issue.

Sometimes, I hear this: “Is it my job? How can I be responsible for knowing other people’s needs. I’m just not in their shoes.”
Yes. It’s your job. A frequent reason (or cop out) is saying that the parents of disabled children should just say what they need, and make the efforts to get their kids included. BULL CRAP!

Just thinking up a list of wants and needs would sound exhausting to a parent of a disabled child. Some days, they are just trying to make it through the day. Over 85% percent of marriages don’t survive when disability is an issue. It’s tougher than you think it is.

Listen. These parents have enough to deal with. Wake up! They have enough to do than to also make sure typical children are accepting and relating to their disabled kid/s. Mostly, they are tired. It doesn’t feel worth the effort. Failure seems sure. They are surrounded by frequent disappointments, the broken dream of not having a normal kid, and lots of scheduling issues and therapeutic measures in school, community, and other locations that help their kid or their family. They don’t have enough energy to get people on board with that type of stuff on top of everything else. (Ask them what a typical week is like, go ahead.)

YOUTH GROUP
My son went from being very excited to be old enough to be included in the middle school Sunday School section (See, in 5th grade…you get to sit on cozy couches!!) to now, about a year later, in 6th grade, detesting Sunday School, feeling like an outcast (even more than he had before), and now he doesn’t even believe in God. He says, “God is an unbelievable story.”

Based on the way many Christians behave toward him, he has an excellent point.

Like plenty of other children with autism or developmental disabilities (BTW…”developmental disabilities ” is nicest term for “retards” or “mentally retarded”), Nathan doesn’t get abstract ideas like, “Is Jesus in your heart?” (He hears, “Is a bearded man in your chest cavity?” Utter nonsense!)

Nathan can’t see or touch Jesus; we have to be Jesus for him. He has to experience love-in-action, benefit from it, and be allowed to return this love as an equal. I don’t know if it’s too late for my church to be hospitable in the way that he’ll to want to be a part of it. I will keep that hope. I’m writing this now to start a change in how we respond and interact, so other kids with disabilities can feel like they belong, and are loved and accepted.

TIPS to get you started (for kids and adults)
• Interaction doesn’t have to be hours of incredibly awesome friendship per day or week. A blood brother bond is not necessary. But, the interaction should be authentic, not out of duty or pity. Something simple like making something for them, sharing something, or just chatting pleasantly with them is plenty for starters.

• Asking about their interests (direct questions are best, maybe even just asking “yes or no” questions, at first), and then actually listening to them (even when you may not always understand them or know what to say) is helpful. They WILL understand when you care about them. Just take a bit of time to be gracious. It’ll do you good.

• Inviting them over for a snack, to watch a movie, take a walk, ride bikes, play with your pet, or play videos games may be enjoyable for them. Ask if you can visit them. Create times that are specially for them, even if they are brief periods. 30-45 minutes is fine. (But realize they will love you for it, and want to do it again soon. My son never seems to stop talking about the boy we invited over to play, about 2 months ago.)

• Offer them yourself. Nothing fancy. Invest in them for real, emotionally, and with some of your time and efforts. When you offer authentic friendship it looks different than just a saying or doing the “right thing”. You take a risk.)

• Help them make a craft, picture, or a simple snack, play a game, look at a book, build with legos, and take the time to talk to them, or just be close by and attentive, etc. and show them you like them.

• Offer the parents of disabled kids respite time. Give them an hour or two break, and get the help, information, and extra helpers you may need to care for the child. (Only 10% of churches do this. Change this statistic.)

• Be inviting.
What’s the worst that could happen if you invite a family over to your house? Maybe the child will do something unpredictable, and you won’t know what to do? Maybe you will feel uncomfortable? Get Over it.

MOVING FORWARD:

Where and how have you seen the disabled as full-fledged participants in your community or ministry? (How was it done rightly?)

AND–
How can I help you? If you want to show kindness, or God’s love to a family of a disabled person, or to a disabled person, What are your questions or concerns?

What about including or interacting with the disabled would you like to know? 

What are your fears? Share them.

Let’s get this ball rolling. No question is off limits. Your comments, or experiences can be shared as well.

Thanks for reading. Thanks for changing for the better.
-Lisa 

lemonade stand

Today, my kids made almost $20. Lemonade and Cookies for sale, only ¢25 each.

Okay, I chipped in for the ingredients, and helped them set up, absolutely free, but you get the idea.

The day started off rainy. Not a good day for a lemonade stand. The odds were against them. But, ya know, when a little kid offers you fresh lemonade for a quarter, how do you refuse? I was surprised that some did, but was gladdened that those folks were greatly out-numbered by other types.

First, a friend allowed the kids to set up shop at her business, in a high traffic area. In business, don’t they say something like, “Location. Location. Location.”?

Maybe that’s with real estate.

After that move, even the sprinkles didn’t slow down the customers. Probably more than 80% who walked by, melted visably when they saw the kids with their stand.

The kids really didn’t make (almost) $20. People were generous. They gave a $1, got their cookie and beverage, and said, “Keep the change.” Some gave money to them just because they were there. I parked nearby, but I let the kids do their own business. Attract customers, offer their products, and count the change. I saw how people put in extra effort to support them. It warmed my heart.

There is something very special about being enterprising. There is needed dignity that comes for people when they can make one’s own money, or find their own way, somehow. And yes, generosity makes a big difference too.

Have you been generous enough, lately?

I have this feeling, the same thing is true with spiritual growth, as well. When it comes to spiritual things, do we try to save people the experience of struggle? Growth can take work, and be painful, do we rescue the novices, or give them easy answers? (Pat answers do really help, and they can arrest deeper thinking.) Or do we allow space for mystery, doubt, or the unknown to shape them too.

Can we let pauses in conversation or questions happen, or do we try to fill it up with our “wisdom”? It reminds me of the weird nervous laughter habit people get into sometimes, when they don’t know what to do. They laugh in some odd way, that gets distracting, in its own right.

Do we cuddle or spoon feed, when trying and making a mess will be more helpful; not in the short run, but in the long run.

What are your thoughts?

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.

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

Friday and Saturday I took off to the Poconos with my daughter for a mother/daughter retreat. The whole getaway sneaked up on me, and I realized about an hour before we had to leave that we were due to attend this overnight cabin camping getaway.

Ten things I learned from my getaway:

1. When a female retreat speaker likes to take off her shoes (and has toes that look like man fingers) I have trouble concentrating.

2. Camp cabins have a wet sock meets wet canine smell. This is normal.

3. A retreat menu consists of 300% of one’s daily requirement of carbohydrates. (MMM and uh-oh.)

4. A camping getaway is not complete unless several bugs are captured and treated like members of the family, before they die in captivity.

5. Turkeys wake up at 4 a.m….vocalizing.

6. Even if a mom/daughter hike includes spotting deer up close, friendly fowl, and indescribable beauty, wet pants, shoes, and socks will incur massive amounts of overshadowing whining.

7. Staying up past 11 p.m. for its own sake makes an eight year old immeasurably ecstatic and then immeasurably exhausted 12 hours later. Usually there is crying involved.

8. Apparently, when camping, there’s no such thing as “too much candy”.

9. Unspoken camp rule: carbonated beverages are a right, not a privilege.

10. Mysterious forces beyond one’s control cause one’s washcloths and towels to dry in no less than four days.

What are some things you’ve learned from camping?

photos of our time away.

mean dog

The following is a true story:

About five years ago, we had neighbors living on our south side. The mister of the family was a truck driver, and one day he found a strange dog at the rest stop and brought him home.

They told me, “Don’t let your children go near our dog, he bites.” The dog was red, fierce, and usually bristling or barking. They kept him in a pen in the back yard.

One day, I saw him playing in his pen. He was pouncing with his front paws on a squeaky toy about the size of a man’s shoe, and having the time of his life. He’d bite the toy, and it would squeak, then he would toss it in the air, and continue playing. I stared at him for a while.

Then, he threw the squeaky toy high in the air, it hit the ground…and ran. It ran squeaking. He pounced again, and started biting. It was a rat. A half-dead rat. Very shocking!

So, you tell, me, what would be a good moral of this story?

What is the strangest thing you’ve seen a pet play with?

toy rat

some other family enjoying mealtime prayer

Do you pray before meals with your family?

This Christian spiritual practice is one I grew up with. I was praying at meals since I was 3, and I remember some of those first prayers. Do you remember getting to pray for the meals as a child? It felt like an honor to be asked, as I recall.

Here’s where it gets weird.
My two children (ages, almost 11 and 8 years old, respectively) seem to loath mealtime prayers, under any circumstances.

Unlike many children from praying homes, mine rebuff any offers to say the prayer at mealtime, even when they are sweetened with awesome bribes! They usually complain about mealtime prayer, despite our conversations about having our particular family tradition and its importance in our view of the world. Most often, the kids see mealtime prayers as a unpleasant obstacle preventing their nourishment. And, it seems to be worsening as time goes by.

That’s right a 30 second prayer time before meals is worse than other forms of child torture…like going to bed at 8:00, or hanging up one’s coat, or emptying the silverware from the dishwasher. I don’t get it either.

As a person who’s spent hundreds of hours researching and learning how to help people grow spiritually, this is a bit of a black eye…oh, and a punch in the gut. It’s not just a bit embarrassing to realize, but  it makes me think that perhaps my children’s basic spiritual formation is compromised if these times of prayer are not meaningful and helpful when we do them. I think we could all be the worse for our failure here.

So, I’ve been speaking with my husband about how we can change things up, and enliven family prayer time to make God, and thanking God for our food more participatory, vivified, and worthwhile for all of us. I want children with grateful hearts.

I thought of some ideas, and I hope you will contribute to the mix too. I could use your ideas and advice.

Idea 1. Lighting a candle:
Kids love fire. Right? I’d like to try to light a voitive candle for each of us and read John 8:12

Then Jesus said, “I am the light of the world. The one who follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.”

We can then respond. “Thank you Jesus for your light in our hearts. Thank you for our meal. Amen.”

Idea 2. Maybe adding a kind of prop, visual aid, or short object lesson with our practice would make it not just a more interesting time, but will carry on in their thoughts. Then, at night when putting them to bed, we could bring it up again, for a little meditating or conversation for an evening prayer.

Idea 2. Maybe using a mixing of responsive prayers during the week could awaken us to a richer time of thanks before meals.

Prayer 1:

(lead voice) The eyes of all wait upon you, O God,
(others) And you give them their food in due season.

You open wide your hand
and fill all things living with plenteousness.

Bless, O Lord, these gifts to our use and us in your service;
relieve the needs of those in want and give us thankful hearts;
for Christ’s sake. Amen.

Prayer 2:

(lead voice) Bless us, O Lord, who bless your holy name
and by this food, feed us for your holy service.

(others) Thank you, Father and Lord. Amen.

This one could be said after meal time, to add some thankfulness “bookends” to the time together.

After meal prayer:

(lead voice) All your works praise you, O God,
(others) And your faithful servants bless you.

They make known the glory of your kingdom
And speak of your power.

For these and all God’s gifts and graces,
let us bless the Lord.
Thanks be to God. Amen.

Other ideas:

1. We could also go around the table and thank God for something. (My kids balk at this usually.)

2. We could stand and hold hands, or change our posture during prayer, from the norm (which for us is holding hands while seated).

3. When could listen to a singing of a psalm, or worship song before the meal.

HELP! What else can be done to make mealtime prayer better?

Sometimes Christmas is Stressful. You’ve just had it. The kid in this photo is at the end of his patience. I imagine he endured being dragged by his mum or dad to do a bunch of shopping for Christmas presents for a few hours, and then they had the nerve to subject him to posing with Jolly Saint Nick, for some insult to injury.

Have you reached this stage yet? Is it likely?

Any responses, caption ideas, or Christmas updates to report?

"As if it couldn't get any worse...now this."

Double your pleasure. Double your fun. Take toddler twins to sit on the lap of a large stranger, in weird red

pajamas who smells like Irish Coffee. HO. Ho. Ho.

Were YOU scared of Santa as a kid?

Double the Christmas photo Jolliness!

Welcome to weird Santa week.

Each day, I’ll give you a picture for your amusement.

Do you know any kids who get freaked out by the fat and jolly stranger in the fake beard?

Do you have a weird Santa picture? Add a link to share it with us.

First Entry:

I’m not sure who looks more upset, the kid or the Santa. (If you think of a good caption, leave one here.)

What did they say to each other? Santa looks about to cry too.

Caption: “I feel something wet on my leg.”

Spinning House (adapted from photo by John & Brenda Bendinsky)

Perhaps every parent tries to give their child something they craved as a child. For me, it’s stability. Emotional safely. A place that is a refuge from the plagues and tumult of the world, rather than another component to the madness.

I noticed someone’s garden bird house this spring. It hung from a cord and was in constant motion. It spun clockwise, and then counter-clockwise. And it got me to thinking…do the young birds think the world spins? When they leave the nest, does normal stability feel abnormal? I realized I grew up in a spinning bird house. Love will always feel unstable, even when it stands firm.

I want something for my children: I want to anchor our house to the tree.

Qualities of a good nest:

1. Cozy

2. Safe

3. Warm

4. Comforting

5. Place of learning/preparatory

6. Seasonal/temporary

7. Place of nurture

7. Place where you get good eats

8. Sufficient shelter

What else?

What have you (or would you want to) give to your children that wasn’t in the “nest” you grew up in?

"Safe Neighborhood?" (creative commons photo by Josve05a Flickr)

Before I do a post, I’d like to get responses, first.

Yes….sort of doing it backwards.

What are the qualities of  a Nest?

Is your home  like a nest?

"Nest" ©2010 Lisa DeLay

Have you ever gotten in over your head as a parent? Maybe having kids at all was over your head to begin with.

When I saw this picture, and the wild panic in the face of this dad, I actually felt a great relief…that I wasn’t him.

What caption would you give this photo?

He was just going to pet him, honey.

Once I passed out and dropped Ellie when she about 4 months old. Now that’s a mistake! We took her right to the ER. It turned out that she was quite fine, and she got away with just a light red mark on her forehead. I got prescribed a Sprite. (Probably that beverage really cost about $800.)

The doctor said, “Now she can blame you for everything, because you dropped her on her head.”

“I think she more or less slid off my lap, but I plan to not tell her,” I said.

As it is now, if Ellie were any smarter, I might want to drop her on purpose. Maybe from a tree top. By her school marks, and testing scores, it may have had a beneficial effect. So, there you have it.

What mistake have you made, or has a parent made with you?

It’s quite possible that my parents inadvertently trained my brain to be more philosophical then it might have been ordinarily.

I remember countless times after doing something naughty or foolish, my parents would ask me a daunting question “Why, did you do that?”

I’m not sure what kind of answers they were expecting. I would wonder why they would ask that.

Those answers were far beyond what my child brain could tackle.

Inwardly I would think, “HUH? Well, that’s a good question, I guess. I probably should have asked why to myself before I did it. It seemed like a good idea at the time. How should I know why I did it? Do they know why? If so, why don’t they just tell me? Will there be some kind of quiz later, or something? If they do know why, why did they looked so puzzled? And basically pissed off. Am I supposed to figure it out for them? …..ugh. But, now that I’m thinking of it, I do wonder why.”

I would usually answer, “I don’t know.” Deep inside I would wish and hope the scrutiny would not last too long. (It probably would lead to a “spanking” a.k.a. whoop the daylights out of me.) But, I also thought, if I did know, wouldn’t truthful answers incriminate me? What could I really come up with in all honesty, “because I wanted to,”?

Mainly through the sheer number of inquiries, I developed the feeling that the answer to “why” had importance. I started on a path toward “hack philosopher”…

“Why would people wish to put meat into ball shapes?”

“Why would chewing gum before supper truly ruin supper itself?”

“Why was, ‘because I said so’ considered an acceptable reason for adults to give me, but never good at all for me to reply to them?”

When troubles or suffering would come, I would instinctively ask “why”?

Maybe learning a lot of things would give me these sought for questions. I tried that a bit. (I still love roving around libraries on a quest of discovery.) After a good deal of learning, one day it came to me:

“Almost all the really crucial questions that ask ‘why’ have quite unsatisfactory answers.”

Or, the answers get debated widely, and are rarely agreed on. Or, the “answers” have the kind of complexities that don’t make one feel better about things. At all.

All this preparatory ‘why’ work…for what? Zip. More or less.

Instead of those sorts of questions, I moved on. “What does asking why tell us about us, and why we should want to know in the first place?” That seems like a much bigger question, with the kind of answer that will make a difference.

We want things to make sense. We want purpose and something to believe in that won’t let us down. We want to count on something. Will a concrete answer provide this? It seems most concrete answers only produce more questions. Of course, I was only satiated with pat answers for a short time.  (I do believe I was also trained to understand that challenging  answers was either a lack of faith, or a flaw in character.)

It’s been a new path for me to have a certain serenity that understanding may begin when the intricacies that the why questions remain in creative tension with discovery and mystery.

And so “why mystery?”

For me, it’s about knowing things in terms of relationship, not facts. The facts can be manipulated, massaged, or up for grabs. But, true trust, based on an ongoing and lavish love, surmounts what facts never satisfy.

God is why.

Leave a comment…

photo by stephen jones (steve p2008 -Flickr)

I couldn’t swim until I was 11 years old, and even then, it was a pretty panicky endeavor.

Today I taught both of my kids (ages 7.5 and 10) how to swim in about 3 hours.

Both were super afraid of being in the deep section when we started. Because they trusted me; it worked. I gave them pushes to the side, and skill tips, and once the fear was nearly gone, they could do it.

Much has to do with trusting that one is fairly buoyant in the water. Thrashing is not helpful, tense muscles tend to sink. For my son, who was quite scared, I told swim, “swim gently.” Something clicked. He saw/experienced that when taking his time, he could maneuver and stay afloat. The terror of sinking like a rock eased away. He probably jumped in the deep end to swim about 150 times after that.

For my daughter, distracting her with techniques, like a flutter kick and slicing arms through the water, distracted her from her over-thinking. The paralyzing fright of trying something new and “dangerous” settled out, and made way for real progress. I would hold her under her belly, to qualm her fears, and then I’d take her into deeper water so she wouldn’t stunt her learning by cutting it short: standing up each time she wasn’t sure of things, or when she felt scared–which, at the start, was about every 4 seconds. Once she saw how far she could go, by obeying my instructions, she realized she was ALREADY swimming. Then the fear (well, more the 50% of it) subsided. She got far more comfortable in the water.

It’s like that in life too, isn’t it. Much of what we think is beyond us, or too scary is part of how we’ve let our fears and false notions get in the way. We all must learn to float and not fight as God teaches us how to manage deeper water. Otherwise we are trapped in the kiddie pool.

How old were you when you learned to swim? Or do you have Aquaphobia a.k.a fear of water?

In what ways, to you, is the art and skill of swimming related to growth, or your own personal journey?

Any other thoughts?

P.S.

I’m looking for a pop up camper… keep your eyes peeled.

When you’re gone, Snuggles the  Bear will hover over your sleeping baby, and drape a blanket on her. Isn’t it great to know child care is so simple these days?

I’m sure this commercial was made to be sweet, or perhaps so jolting as to be memorable. Personally, teddy bears rate right behind Chatty Kathy dolls, and right before Sock Monkeys for my childcare needs. Snuggles is really the stuff of nightmares…. or is he?

Have you noticed that it’s not the wisest choice to put words in someone’s mouth.

For example, I highly doubt teddy bears make good babysitters, even under the best circumstances, with the most eloquent, and most intelligent stuffed bears. It hasn’t been my experience anyway. The biggest problem is dialing 911. Their paws usually dial 991. It makes many parents leery. Me, for one.

This is a 30 second commercial of the babysitting Snuggle Bear….cute or chilling?

Can’t the same thing happen in our relationships? Our perceptions place certain expectations or presuppositions that have little or no connection to Reality. How do our wrong perceptions change to be more correct? The simple answer: Deeper relationships, and a fuller knowing of the other.

Doesn’t the same thing happen in theology? (Our study of God, be it formal or folk.) You or I can determine what God is like, or what “he” is up to, but the voiceover won’t really be accurate.

1. The movements we imagine will be stiff and unreal.

2. Our humanity will skew our translation of God.

3. We’ll make determinations about his sovereignty, or attitudes, in ways that probably reveal more about us, than God.

And when all this happens, we make God into our own image. It works best when it’s the other way around. We grow and mature, as we give in to our Creator, and mirror those qualities of love, holiness, goodness, and mercy.

Is there a way to cut to the marrow, and perceive better?

Probably. I believe it stands to reason that when we speak of God, we must begin to understand “him” on “his” terms, not ours. We start with his nature, with God’s holiness, perfection, omni-benevolence, and mercifulness. If it were not so that God is thus, there would not be enough evidence or reason for all there is that is good, and beautiful in creation, and even in us. We bear this image, in part, as does the world designed so intricately by a Supreme Being we only begin to understand.

After that starting point, we continue what must be a humble (and unassuming) path to pray (ask, request) for the desire to know and love God, and to see God as “he” is. God’s revelations abound, if we have the eyes to see. I once was blind, but now I see.

What perceptions of other people, or of God have changed for you?

Anything else on your mind?

When I was in under my parent’s care, I was hit with a spatula among other things, in what my parents called discipline with “the rod”. This was picked over “time outs,” or being grounded, and my back side broke many a spanking implement–wooden rulers and cooking spoons, frosting spatulas, pancake spatulas, and probably other stuff I’ve blocked out psychologically. (I won’t even go into the things that didn’t or couldn’t brake on my backside!)

I guess you could say it sort of got pounded into my mind that God must operate the same way. To me, it seemed he would get peeved, and then, lower the boom. So, when bad things would happen, it was probably because of some kind of Divine spatula. I thought God was like a human, and most likely like a human parent who spanks.

Well, nope. God is “Other.” How we’ve interpreted Scripture has often reflected how we’ve been parented. In other words, we figure that God gets ticked off, and gets out the belt, and begins whipping his kids, until they “get it,” or have been punished sufficiently. Actually he usually lets them get away with murder, if you want to know the truth. But I won’t digress on that right here, and now.

Some years ago I heard a visiting pastor in my church say, “God will sometimes need to give you a whipping. You probably need it, and deserve it.” I maced him. Okay, I didn’t, but I thought if I hadn’t already known God through the character of the Incarnation (Jesus), and fully accepted the fleshly God/man, as the same God, I would have decided then and there to become Buddhist, or something other than whatever this guy was. What a crappy religion if this is the God he describes! This way, God sounds like a craptastic, unloving parent who needs medication. I thought this preacher guy was probably trying to manipulate the audience, and I wasn’t going to fall for his weirdness. I had already encountered God deeply, and I wasn’t going to throw it all away because this preacher pictured God as punitive, and wielding a spatula, or perhaps a thick belt, as I bent over to get my beating. God doesn’t have a spatula. He’s gracious.