Tag: autism

Leadership Lens and Perspective

This is my son Nathan.
He’s 12.5 years old.

It’s been a rough few days with him. It’s a dicey combo mixing burgeoning adolescence and the Autistic experience.

His will is strong and he’s often unreasonable. He thinks he’s the rightful King of his world and ours; and I’ve felt discouraged about how poorly things have been going.

But…today, he built these glasses, and it got me to thinking about perspective.

And it gave me a new one.

What’s the bigger lesson here?

What if our windows of perspective are cloudy?

What if the shutters are closed?

How will an obstructed view hurt my ability to guide, lead, or learn?

Will I even be able to notice how poor my vision is?
And how can I get help seeing better?

It’s true that our perspective is limited.

The fact is easy to miss.
We flare with emotion in the dearth of comprehending how perspective works, or doesn’t work.

But, indeed, we can’t possibly see the full view, just the narrow vision our particular spectacles allow.

And with new lens our perspective changes.

Unwittingly, Nathan gave me the encouragement I needed.

This is actually an answer to my prayer for help.

Keep pushing on and Remember the lesson of the Lego Spectacles!

To you Leaders and Bloggers: Don’t forget to link-up with the SynchroBLOG on Leadership sponsored by Evangelical Seminary. Write something this week and contribute September 10-14. 

Will I see you on the flipside?

(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

My son’s Sudden Onset Atheism Takes an Unexpected Turn

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)

(A few more can be found by clicking the Sudden Onset Juvenile Atheism category, or doing a search with those words.)
 Now onto the update.

Progress was encouraged by an unlikely source. Many people believe that God (Yahweh) has been erased from public school. This is true in many ways. My son’s social studies textbooks, for instance, never use a capital “G” when using the word God, or any deity. For instance, “People called the Pilgrims came to the New World to worship their god.” [Yes. We live it pluralistic times.]

The truth is, though we may erect boundaries, God has no boundaries. God works in ways we don’t expect, whenever it pleases him to. Sometimes we have to resist the urge to “hold God’s hand” as he works things out. Who then, I wonder, has a problem with faith? The questioning atheist or the anxious Christian?

It was my hope and prayer that God would reveal himself to Nathan and draw Nathan to himself. Then I just had to wait, encourage the searching, and remain peaceful about the rest.

It all started with Social Studies. As Nathan studied world civilizations, he noticed that these were the same people groups spoken of in the Bible. The Egyptians, the Hebrews, the Babylonians, the Assyrians–each one of these groups is recorded in the narratives of the Bible. He learned how all the groups were poly-theistic, and the Hebrews were mono-theistic. In his autistic support class he watched the Dreamworks animated movie The Prince of Egypt (which is rather loose with it’s historicity, I realize). Suddenly the story clicked. What he heard only at church, he also heard at school. This vetted the story for him as actual, rather than “a made up fairy tale and untrue story” as he had previously thought.

Since this realization, Nathan has been more receptive to going to church, listening and sometimes answering questions in Sunday School (we have kept him with us in an adult level class), and singing. He doesn’t lash out in anger when we speak of things of God at home. He’s willing to be content as we pray at meals. His attitude has shifted. People at our church have reached out to Nathan and showed him great kindness and grace. Those relationships have been a boon.

Nathan loves the music at church, and hearing his sweet, pitchy little voice is a precious thing. It’s reminder that his story, and my story are not over. God with us is a work in progress.

Recently, when I thought he was ready to talk about it, I said, “Nathan, I noticed you are singing in church. How do you feel about God now?”

Softly, he said, “Well, I think it’s true. I believe in God now.”

“Did you learn about the Hebrews in school, like you did at church?” I asked.

“Yes. The Egyptians were real, and they had slaves,” he told me.

The story isn’t over. I don’t feel like Nathan has arrived somehow, but now his journey has new hope and new possibilities. He still needs to be nurtured spiritually. Don’t we all? He needs us to model God ways to him, the Fruit of the Spirit. He has never wanted to pray, and my hope is that he finds the comfort that comes with talking to God.

The invisible, but real, is a challenging concept for many of us, and Nathan’s very concrete ways of understanding the world–because of his autism–make it all the more important to be Jesus to him so that the reality of God is experience and learned in regular life. He’s not so different after all.

Who has best modeled God for you?

It’s not a broken heart that kills you…

(by Chris O Brien click for CC source)

You can’t die of a broken heart. It’s despair that kills you.

Having a broken heart, means you are alive. It means that something matters, and you haven’t gone numb (which is what usually happens to people after a while…or escapism, which is sort of the same).

Having a broken heart means that risk was rewarded with pain. But not pain unto death. Pain that gives way to experience you can’t find another way.

I used to think God was trying to kill me of a broken heart. Dashing my hopes and dreams. Allowing my son, or my father, or me to suffer until I couldn’t take it anymore. It felt like the beatings wouldn’t end.

At the end of that bit of brutality (as I perceived it) I realized I could be borne out of it, like a phoenix. And that was the point. To come to a resurrection. On the other side was life, not death. All the scars would be a kind of beauty, not a pitiable shame.

Don’t worry about your broken heart. It has to break apart to get to the fleshy part. The part so tender that only God can hold it…and be the only one who can and will protect it in a way you never could understand before. In a way that you can never do alone. You are brave enough for that. You. are.

Do. not. despair.

What Parents of Disabled Children Wish You Knew (Part II)

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?