Alise Wright is staring down Fear

I had a great chat with Alise Wright and we talked about her upcoming book project Not Afraid. Plus, we talk a bit about a few other things like marriage equality and Mark Driscoll’s new polemic book “Real Marriage” (and I may need to offer some bonus video material on that insightful stuff); can men and women be friends (best of friends, even when they are married to other people); and Alise’s upcoming personal work in keeping with her calling.

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 

Shame and wanting to poking out your own eye

There’s a feeling you can get, after you’ve done something horrible. It’s so bad, that you might consider poking your own eye out (if for nothing else than a viable distraction.)

My first job (besides babysitting) was as a hostess at Eat’n Park Family Restaurant. A woman about 10  years older transferred there. She had been a waitress for a long time (even a decorated one. Yes, Eat’n Park is special like that.) She also had the name “Lisa,” just like me. That’s about all the ingredients needed for good communication and lasting friendship, right? um. No.
Background:
Sometimes I’d goof off and crack jokes in passing with Lisa. No big deal. (If you know me, this is all highly typical behavior.)
WELL-
One day, like a stoke of non genius, it came into my head to wisecrack when I noticed Lisa had a blue pen scribble on her forearm. I noticed it was actually a very sloppily rendered mark of her own name. The “L” was super long on the bottom, and not in a cursive way. It was just odd. It struck me as humorous. I already knew she had a 4 year old daughter. Her little girl had probably been playing with her waitressing pen and wrote out her mom’s name all by herself. Or maybe Lisa had done it–for a joke, or because she was bored. So, feeling my comic Einstein vibe coming on me (which is inversely proportionate to my rational thought and good judgment), I said–rather flippantly, I might ad–“Hey, what’s that on your arm? Is that so you don’t forget your name?”

Sudden. Dead. Powerful stare.
Awkward pause. I could hear a spider near the salad bar blink.
Then I noticed she had a sort of sad “How could you, you freaking jerk?” look on her tired face. (I picked up on that because I’m really good at feeling people out!)
It was a tattoo.
A horrible one.
A mistake.
Perhaps a drunk boyfriend or trashed stepdad scrawled it there. Who knows. But whatever the story was, it was part of a painful past. A past she did not want thrown in her face by some stupid and insensitive quip from a dumb teenager.
My heart froze with panic. It’s the kind of panic where you start to smell yourself. A cold sweat mustache erupts on your lip usually, too
.
Would she stab me with a steak knife?
Plan to burn me “accidentally” with a scrod entrée platter? (Wicked hot, they are!)
I fumbled around, and got out, “um… hahah… I’m just kidding.” I was trying desperately to appear nonchalant. I considered whistling a tune to prove it.
Still, she just looked at me–steadily.
“I’m sorry,” I said, getting up the nerve. It felt like a blanket of shame washed over me. Self-loathing–all over the place.
She shook it off, and went back to work. From then on I tried to be extraordinary nice to her, in every way I could think of. I bused her tables, and got her refreshing beverages, and tried to be as pleasant, and positive as I could. She didn’t hold it against me, beyond a day or so.
Once, after a 10p.m.-5 a.m. shift when my dad failed to pick me up, she even drove me home in her weary beater of a car.
I still wonder about her.
It was poke-your-eye-out shame.
I’ll never forget it.

Have you ever had “inner death by shame”? (you can just answer yes or no, unless you want to be brave and tell your story)

Best Friends

What is a memorable thing a friend has done for you?

Brotherhood includes the mighty man hug

Quotes on friendship:

Friendship… is not something you learn in school. But if you haven’t learned the meaning of friendship, you really haven’t learned anything.
Muhammad Ali

Friendship is a single soul dwelling in two bodies.
Aristotle

I value the friend who for me finds time on his calendar, but I cherish the friend who for me does not consult his calendar.
Robert Brault

The language of friendship is not words but meanings.
Henry David Thoreau

Yes’m, old friends is always best, ‘less you can catch a new one that’s fit to make an old one out of.
Sarah Orne Jewett

You can always tell a real friend: when you’ve made a fool of yourself he doesn’t feel you’ve done a permanent job.
Laurence J. Peter

When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives means the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand.
Henri Nouwen

We call that person who has lost his father, an orphan; and a widower that man who has lost his wife. But that man who has known the immense unhappiness of losing a friend, by what name do we call him? Here every language is silent and holds its peace in impotence.
Joseph Roux

Tell a friend you appreciate him or her today.

Share your thoughts on friendship…

Feb Freebie- Choose Your Own Adventure Kit!

 

Kit 'o Fun prize

 

This picture looks simple enough, but this giveaway prize is not THAT ordinary. It’s really a do-it-all kit for a time to remember.

First, the boxes of candy are King sized. That means it has to be better.

Now, some of you (possibly with a y chromosome) out there will see these articles shown, and have no idea how they could make you a hero of sweetness and charm to a significant other, or a whole lot of fun to hang with for a bit. But really-You’ll be seen in the light of a hero!

Here’s how it works: Find someone to spend time with. Your kid, your friend, your cousin, your spouse, or even an unlikely or unlikable counterpart… but, you get the idea. (Humans only please.) Think of something to do, eat the candy, record your adventure with the camera, and then attach the developed photos in the journal, along with captions or comments about your time together. (Remember to replace the picture shown on the outside-the overly-happy, giggly couple-with a photo of your time.) This book can be a continual archive of dates, trips, and adventures; Or you can give it away to the person, right away. See how wonderful you’ll seem? Yes, one giant ball of awesomeness. You can even say it was your idea. It’s not likely they will believe you, but go ahead. And if the winner of this prize sends some pictures back to me, (before March 31, 2010) a cool, surprise bonus prize will be given. Try to not pee your pants with excitement.

Here’s some ideas for your time out:

A walk. A snowball fight. Bowling. Browsing shops in a new town. Doing a random act or acts of kindness. A Museum. Coffee shop hopping. Wine tour  Whine tour. Make a treasure hunt for your friend/date (you know, with clues, etc.) to find the candy, or something else. A game of Paintball. Laser Tag. Horseback riding. Ice Skating. Indoor Rock Climbing. Chess-okay Not Chess! Dinner in, and a movie rental. Parade (St Patty’s Day is coming). A home project. Fight Club (Hey, I don’t know what you’re into, okay?) Breakfast at a diner (Make sure to get pictures of the wait staff.) Build a cake, or something.

SO! Pick one of these choices and elaborate on it, OR make up a good outing or activity out of your own creativity. Or, you can go the other way, and have an awful time, potentially, and record how that goes. You may get a pleasant surprise. Visit a slaughter house, or a AIDS clinic, or a cancer ward. It’s up to you.

Enter your idea in the  ‘leave a comment’ section, and the one considered the most worthy (in every way) will win. I will sign the journal, if you’d like, with my best wishes. But, I’ll keep my mitts off the candy, I promise.

Good Wishes to you!