Tag: doubt

SHOCK & BAWL: A Tale of Jeep Rage

Boston I-93 Tunnel

Creative Commons License Rene Schwietzke via Compfight

Somedays you need to read uplifting or humorous posts to soothe yourself. I GET THAT. Friday seems two weeks away. You and I both know that sometimes we must find a way to laugh so we don’t freak out on someone, or weep uncontrollably into our Dunkin’ Donuts napkin.

This is probably not going to do that for you. But, you can read it, and shoot up a quick prayer thanking God that you aren’t my spouse. So, that’s a pick-me-up. You’re welcome.

True Story:

Once I made a horrible driving error. I’m pretty sure it was the one and only time, but I completely cut someone off on the Interstate.

So, I swing into the passing lane and make a guy in a jeep brake and swerve. Panicked, and intolerably stupid, I flee the scene…by intricately weaving through traffic, no less. Maybe if I’m out of sight I can be out of mind too, I think. No, it’s actually more of a pure flight-or-fight response. I was about 7 year old at the time, and my frontal lobe was under-developed. 

Indeed, it’s all a crescendoing avalanche of foolishness. Incited, a second motorist blows his horn and starts to tail me in a move of solidarity against vehicular injustice. Things are getting totally nuts. No doubt he’s readying a tall finger for my witness. My NASCAR lane changing moves soon best him, or maybe he realizes a highway fatality is too high a price just to send a hackneyed message.

As I flee I see the victim in my mirror. He’s frothing and out of his mind with rage. He’s waving limbs around in wild fury, gassing it. He’s in hot pursuit. It’s a Jeep thing, maybe.

Now, I’m terrified. I taste the bile in my mouth.

My heart pounding, I realize this all could end very poorly. And soon.

That blaze of glory stuff is an awesome idea until you start thinking about the minutia of funeral arrangements, or wreckage in general. Yes. The poor man swerved to avoid a smash style killing of both of us. It could have been a horrid pileup too. We truly had eluded death by narrow margins. 14 guardian angels later file grievances. 3 others walk off the job immediately in complete frustration.

Jeep guy was quite good at swerving, actually, and keeps up the swerving through interstate congestion to reach me. Maybe for seconds. Maybe for kilometers. Things are getting weird. A few truckers start honking, to support me, I assume. (They probably notice my professional driving acumen. What 7 year old can draft and weave with such precision? I’m a prodigy. Surely they recognize that. It’s a rush to have their approval. They’re pros after all and they know motoring prowess when they see it.)

At this point I realize Mr Jeep guy is going to try to pull some kind of payback stunt. He’s all in.

Battle of the Stupid Driving Stunts is the theme of the afternoon, but who can blame him? At this point, he’s jacked up pretty good. I’m in a subcompact. How bad will this get? Does he have a gun? Or, will he keep it simple and just run me off the road with a triumphant fist pump? Will I be late for Girl Scouts?

How is this going to end?

I do some quick thinking. Finally. Thoughts not just reactions. I mentally pat myself on the back as my synapses fire two or maybe three times…in a row with no problems!

Actually, I stopped breathing for 8 minutes.

They say necessity is the mother of invention, right? Well, it is. I am inventing a solution with  an unfettered brain buzz that comes just before you die or you nearly die. I’ve scene this in the movies: It’s always in slow motion.

I do the only thing I think will hit the reset button. (Yes. I know there’s no real reset button. Curse you, Staples! Or Vanilla Sky…)

I decide on the element of SURPRISE!

Of course, I had just surprised him quite a bit a moment earlier by nearly snuffing out his life. “Surprise, dude!”

Yet, this is precisely why he will never see a second surprise coming. Really, I had him right were I wanted him.

(If only the roaring terror in my brain had let me enjoy that precious moment. Alas, no. Not at all.)

I enact my own creative SEAL 6 black ops tactic I now call:

Operation Boo-hoo.

It’s go time!

I burst into tears.

I cry.

Sob, really.
Or, I pretend to.

Who has the time to form actual tears at such a high rate of speed and in heavy traffic–before they’re about to be murdered in an act of heedless revenge? Me neither.

Armed with a fistful of tissues I wipe my eyes and feign bawling. A lot. He approaches in haste (of course, because he’s ready to kill me).

From me: Zero eye contact. (Like he’s not even there. A genius move. Remember that for later in your own travels.)

Peripherally, I see him. He edges up to my blind spot. Hovering. Ready to pounce.

He’s poised. He peers. He notices me. He witnesses total hysteria. …and then…mercifully… eases off. (Perhaps I turned out to be a 3 gallon bucket of mess and he only has a 2 gallon bucket that day.)

Yes, I counted on his attitude changing once he thought something else was going on with me. Something mental. Something suicidal or wickedly moronic–barely thwarted by his quick reflexes.

Or, just something too crazy to understand.

Shock and bawl.

I was going for, “Wha….?” 
Is it Grief? remorse? madness? sorrow? a lost puppy? What. is. the. deal?
Whatever…let me just say it worked. Perfectly.

Later, I rewarded myself with a new box of Kleenex…with aloe.
I’m not sure why I wasn’t armed with aloe tissues in the first place. But, never again.
Because that would be crazy.

If that was you in the Jeep, thanks.

I wasn’t paying attention and I didn’t see you. We both avoided certain doom.

P.S. (I might have not been 7 years old at the time.)

What Parents of Disabled Children Wish You Knew (PART 1)

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 non Christians, in secular (even godless) environments, and with neighborhood children. (See, the government schools have been telling these kids that 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. This mom was prominent in the church. I didn’t challenge it. 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 without losing their minds. Over 85% percent of marriages don’t survive when a child has a disability. 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.” It must seem like a fairy tell because he doesn’t see the love of God displayed toward him.

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 the “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, and of course invite the family if possible. 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 

1st Day of Lent: Ash What-day?

“Oh…Sure, rub it in…”

Did Jesus get ashed on Ash Wednesday? Um. Nope. Duh…

This day in the Christian calendar has marked the beginning of the season of Lent for way over a thousand years. But, yes, it can be “observed” even if we don’t show the signs of charcoal. But, why bother? It’s pagan, right? It’s not in the Bible, right? It’s just kooky works-righteousness thing, right?

Well, here’s the thing. Let’s think about this. If something is not in the Bible does that mean it’s rendered useless and meaningless from Christian devotional practices? I doubt it. From the beginning God used known culture practices to help his people remember things in a physical/visible way that were connected with the the invisible Reality of him. Have you heard of circumcision? Of (Israelite) cleansing before temple participation? How about Baptism? Well, then you see what I mean.

Do you ever celebrate Christmas or Easter? Then, you’ve enacted what I mean.

Pagan Egypt (used for God’s purposes)
Nationally, Egyptian cultic practices were incorporated with the Israelite’s life of worship of the One True God. The Egyptian priestly practices, in particular, were employed. (Israel was a KINGDOM of priests. Quite an upgrade from slave status, right?)

God wasn’t threatened by the use of Egyptian priestly rites and rituals, the Israelites were familiar with, to help them remember and worship the Living God. On the contrary, God encouraged it. God commanded it. Similar sorts of things can help us today as well.

Still, we mustn’t ever forget–It’s not about the intricacies of the ritual itself, it’s about the condition of one’s heart. We can avoid false religion when we ask ourselves, “Does this practice draw me into relationship with the Living God?” If it does, keep it. If not, scrap it. You might want to read that again. It could be life-changing.

Just for you. A LENTEN SPIRITUAL EXERCISE:
Challenge yourself, by asking God to reveal himself to you, to minister to you, and to awaken you in a new way in the days leading to Easter. What might God want you to look at more closely? What might God wish to make more like him in your life?

This could be very personal, and private, but I encourage you to share what findings you’d like to. It will help all of us journey together through this time of Lent, toward the great joy we celebrate on Resurrection Sunday! (a.k.a. Easter)

Thank you for coming here today! Blessing this holiday season.
-Lisa

Like Jael, I got you so pegged

Don’t be tempted to …ahem… peg Jael as the Biblical forerunner of the fierce “Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling”. She was a nobody who cared for sheep and endured the harsh elements.

As a tent dweller of the Kenite clan, she was riffraff to the nth degree. (The spiffy clothing you may see her depicted in is just wishful thinking. A bath would be hard to come by, let alone silk fineries, and dainty hairstyling.)

The Biblical story of Jael is hardcore violence! (10 sec read here)

So-NEVER doubt this, Jael is one shrewd and formidable female; and she clobbers an expert of war, with her own violence, as a part of God’s plan.

She’s sharp, very sharp.

Here lies the mighty Warrior, Sisera…almost pinned down.

Could this be one instance (of many) where a Bible story may effect an impressionable mind?

 

Perhaps envision the scene following a Bible study at a female penitentiary … “Yo, ladies, are you ready to get your Jael on!? Wooo…” Okay, maybe not. But, I can totally see a Bible inspired video game for Christian families….rated T for Teen (of course)… that includes this scene. The object would be to get in the most spike poundings before the warrior wakes up. That’s completely obvious, right?

Incidentally, this story also proves how brilliantly somniferous warm milk can be. Note to self.

Most importantly, this story begs us to root for Jael, and everyone like her. She’s an impoverished foreigner. A diminutive herding woman. And she triumphs in a crucial battle to save a whole nation. Underdog doesn’t begin to describe her.

This isn’t just an astonishing battle tale, or reversal of fortune story, it’s a message of hope for all of us up against the odds. God gives us the strength to peg and conquer our obstacles. God’s character is shown in this and the many underdog stories in the Bible.

Literarily unheard of, this story is like no other. No other ancient literature in the world included women very much, let alone wrote them up as full- blown heroines. But, God captures his heart for us within this story of an unlikely woman who saves an entire people group from destruction.

Remember this:
Undoubtably, you have God’s camaraderie when the odds are against you, or when your foes or circumstance seems too great to overcome.

God has mercy for your “type,” and it is his joy to help you prevail. Keep your hope in the Lord, the Almighty King.

Do you ever feel like an underdog?
What would you like to pin and conquer?

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Guest Post-by Veron Graham "Writing: An Act of Prayer?"

writing prayers

I invited my friend Veron, the author of exploretruth.com, as a guest writer here. He’s not just a talented writer, he’s an insightful man who translates vital concepts we should take in and absorb. 

Enjoy this honest, and helpful contribution about what he has done when prayer has become difficult. This type of prayer exercise can be done when it’s hard to be verbal, or just to freshen up your time alone with God. Give it a try. I’ve enjoyed the practice too.

 

Writing: An Act of Prayer?

-Veron Graham

They swarm like drunken bees.  Disjointed and restless having lost their motivation and focus.  With thoughtful pause I point the pen,  the swarm now threatening to coalesce around a single thought, emotion, or heart felt longing; like the only drop of honey in a dry expanse of nothingness and silence. 

 Thoughts sometimes struggle to shine in our confused states of darkness.  Of doubt.  Like one candle in the dark, I’ve struggled to whisper into this darkness.  And if you’re anything like me you have as well. 

Some days go better for me than others, but mostly I’ve struggled to utter words to a God who at times I didn’t fully understand, and just reverted to mumbling variations of childhood prayers that allowed me the comfort of remaining on the surface, never plunging the depths of truth and genuine connection with God.

 True prayer has always been hard for me.  I’ve only now begun to see how revolutionary an act of faith really talking to God truly is.  To be quite honest, as of late, I haven’t really been praying.  Not in the traditional sense anyway.  I’ve been suffering some guilt about this, and the fact that Ive recently begun writing is the only balm that has sustained me, and given me a possibly different perspective on the subject of prayer.

 So what exactly is Prayer?

 Wikipedia defines prayer as:

 “The act of addressing a god or spirit for the purpose of worship or petition.[1] Specific forms of this may include praise, requesting guidance or assistance, confessing sins, as an act of reparation or an expression of one’s thoughts and emotions. The words used in prayer may take the form of intercession, a hymn, incantation, words of gratitude, or a spontaneous utterance in the person’s praying words. Praying can be done in public, as a group, or in private”.

 It appears that there can be more than one way to express thoughts and emotions.  More than one means to reveal what burns in our hearts.  And thats comforting.  Like a million varying classifications of flowers raised heavenward to their life source, it seems to me, that we to can raise our voice, hands, or lives in whatever medium speaks, and opens our hearts to Divine wisdom.

So Why is Prayer so Hard for some?

In a world full of distractions and complexity, I’ve realized that focusing the mind and concretizing my thoughts can be difficult, far less for the thoughts I have towards God.  Make no mistake, I possess the yearning to connect to the divine, and desire to experience more of a real connection.  To wrestle with the unknowns in my life.  But sometimes the faith feat of articulating and communicating my thoughts to a less than tangible concept of God can seem abstract, prove difficult, and sometimes feel pointless.

 As of late, I have found that the act of writing my spiritual journey, to be a powerful act of reflection, contemplation, meditation, prayer, and maybe even praise.  Grappling with the bedrock of human existence, the why’s of life, the unresolved questions I have, doubts, and fears, all can be given proper voice, in the visible form of the written word.

Our prayers, becoming statements of faith, and even of doubt.  Lord, I believe, and please help my unbelief.  All nakedly and honestly expressed on paper, where we can both remember from where we’ve come, where we are, and petition to participate in where we understand God to be going.  It allows us to plot our stages of growth, bolstering and transforming theory into a real, tangible and experiential spiritual life. 

“I love the LORD, because he hath heard my voice and my supplications. – Psalms 116:1”

Find what works for you!

Writing has allowed me to penetrate the facade that much of life’s distractions can cultivate.  For you it may be another creative outlet.  I was talking to my mother, who happened to just start a womans small group at her home.  She was describing to me what she called a prayer basket.  She creatively collects all the things that she needs in order to pray or spiritually connect with God.  “I have my prayer journal in there, along with a pack of cookies”, she said, smiling.  I imagine each basket will be as unique as the thumbprints of the ladies in her group.  I think that if nature is any indication of Gods creativity, it leads me to appreciate the plethora of genuine expressions and communication styles from his children.

 

 Thank you, Veron. Many more great things by Veron are here.