Transforming Thoughts

I've been doing some reading related to my thesis, and came across this incredible collection of essays on ministry to and with people with developmental disabilities. It's a book called The Pastoral Voice of Robert Perske, and he does an amazing job of bringing Christ's grace and mercy into theology and how it relates to our brothers and sisters with developmental disabilities. I was so moved, that I wanted to post some these excerpts from his book and leave them for food for thought. Enjoy!

"Sammy knows that he has both weaknesses and strengths. He knows he is imperfect. Sometimes I am forced to smile when I think of the doctrines of perfection and sanctification that caused many of us much struggle and guilt in earlier days. It is interesting to note how much theology has been written so that between the lines we can perceive man's struggle for a brilliant mind, a beautiful body, and a pure heart. It is a struggle for a fantastic perfection that none of us can achieve in the world. Sammy's condition, and that of others like him, helps us to see that every man is a conglomerate of weaknesses and strengths with which we must struggle and out of which he will bring Creation of a sinful lack of Creation as long as he lives.

No theological view can ever be realistic and relevant until the man doing the viewing has some understanding of his own human limits. In fact, it is my hunch that the better a man is able to perceive his finite limits and live with them, the close he will be able to come to a relevant theological view."

"Sometimes a pastor can get caught up in theologizing about the process. I personally feel that the better job we can do in understanding and accepting the [person with developmental disabilities] the better we can believe what God must feel toward us. for then we came closer to believing that God loves, understands us and accepts us as we are and doesn't wait until we change into what he wants us to be before He starts loving us."

This final section comes from an essay entitled "The Mentally Retarded Can Arouse Repulsions." Before you turn away in disgust at the title, just remember the context and time this was written in. Yeah, it's not Politically Correct, but read first, then judge.

"Many hate to admit that they can be repelled by [people with developmental disabilities] to some degree. Sometimes the 'pulling away' is observed as an overt act. At other times it is done in more subtle ways. this can lead to a most interesting problem. Why is it that we sometimes feel repelled?

Is it because we have never learned to live graciously with failure in our own lives? Failure can make us feel guilty.

Is because we have strong needs for stimulating relationships only? Is it hard to give to people who can't give as much in return?

Is it because because one of our greatest fears is that we will be found to be stupid and insignificant? Is this one of our most closely guarded fears: that we will be found to be a 'nothing?' Do we sometimes refuse to associate with those who remind us of one of our own greatest fears?

Is it because in America we hold high the myth of human progress? WE try so hard to believe that man is always making positive development, always moving onward and upward toward achieving the brilliant mind, beautiful body, and the pure heart which none of us will ever have fully in this life. Maybe we hate to admit that human process does move backward and downhill at times.

Or is it more comfortable and secure to keep our relationships narrowed to those who live, function, and think like ourselves. Can we dare to do this when society has now begun to learn that greater creativity comes from struggling with the individual differences of people even if it is risky?

Notice that the questions raised do not force us to ask, ' What is wrong with the [developmentally disabled] person?' Instead, the tables are turned. They force us to ask, 'What is wrong with us that makes us want to avoid the [developmentally disabled?"

Our loved ones with developmental disabilities do not need more redemption than the rest of us. We all need and require the same amount of infinite redemption and divine mercy and justice.

We Love our Tank

We've Always Depended on the Kindness of Strangers

This blog is in response to my "Big Sister", Julie Ann Winkle, who will not stop harassing me and threatening me with bodily harm if I don't update my blog. Good thing, you're in Hawaii right now, Julie! I can talk all the smack I want, and there's nothing you can do about it!!

Well, Noah, myself, and the newest member of our ever expanding family, the fabulous Jamie Tracy, are our own little family this week as Jack and Julie are getting some much needed R&R in Hawaii. With Prop 8 posters everywhere, Jamie made a very appropriate observation as we walked into Denny's the other day, "Hey, look! We're the picture of the new American family!" We have to admit, it is pretty entertaining to watch people's reactions as we're out in public. You can see the questions on their faces, "What is going on there?"

This week has been a lesson in how to live out Christs grace in the public eye when everything seems to be out of your control. I've been trying to put the shoe on the other foot, and see what people see when we're out in public. It is indeed very easy to make assumptions. It does occasionally look like Jamie and I are young mothers who don't know what in the world they're doing. When we're out in public with Noah, it's easy to walk around with a chip on your shoulder or the attitude of "Bring it on" with the inaccurate assumptions and judgments and stares of people around us. You can kind of attain to a level of sick pride as you flaunt your "Deal with it" attitude. But several times this week, our pride has suffered some much needed blows as we have been the recipients of God's mercy at the hands of strangers. In a public restaurant, a little boy sitting behind us, came up and offered Noah a lollipop when he saw Noah having a difficult time with the noise level. The waitress accommodated our every need as we made adjustments to get our lunch to go. The father of the boy who offered the lollipop asked what he could to do help. My initial reaction was to apologize for distracting him from lunch with his family, but he gave me some much needed perspective as he graciously said "Don't apologize. We've all been through it. My daughter just had a tantrum five minutes ago. I'm just so frustrated, because I want to help you." Then he and his family just sat there in silent support as Noah worked out his frustration. That man and his family helped more by just letting us know that it was okay, and we were no different from "normal" families who struggle as we do.

A second incident of grace occurred when we took Noah to school the other day. School has been difficult for Noah of late, and we anticipated that it might be a little rough this week with mom and dad being gone. Noah was working out his fears, angers, and frustrations on the ground of the school parking lot, and I was consumed with protecting him and not even thinking about how to make the long journey from the parking lot to the school entrance. You get tunnel vision in those moments, and aren't even aware of what is going on around you. Apparently, there were a few lookie loo's, and one mom who had a son in Noah's class took it upon herself to stand in front of us to protect our dignity and make a statement. In all fairness, some of those lookie loo's may have been standing there to offer their silent support. You can't help but watch a train wreck, and sometimes the only thing we can do is look on and pray. Another mom from our church, who I hadn't met until that day, came up, assessed the situation, saw my need, and took the initiative to get his teacher's assistance. With all these people rallying around him, Noah rose to the challenge, and got through the day with flying colors! In spite of the intensity of his tantrum, I firmly believe that Noah understood and was responding to the grace of Christ that these people were pouring out on him. And he will continue to do so. Today Jamie, Noah, and I prayed before we got out of the car, and Noah responded with a hearty "Amen." Noah watches us intently, and I pray that he sees us crying out to God in the middle of confusion and chaos. We pray that he learns to cry out to God in the midst of his frustration and pain. We have miles to go before we sleep, but God's grace is much more potent in the middle of the confusing unknown. God's grace and mercy is just as potent on the ground of a parking lot as it is in the pew of a church building.

The Monster Lives and Breathes

Egomania is a tough tenant to get rid of. It's had to step down from a job, an embarrassing car wreck, and personal failure thrown at it the past month, and it still thrives. It seems to fight harder and gain strength when you think it's going to hightail it out of town. Egomania is charming. He winks, laughs, whispers in your ear, seduces you into oblivion of inflated self. He doesn't look imposing, but his charm and wit cover for his overwhelming and unusual strength. He perverts Christ's divine strength, making it appear weak and pathetic. But while he's doing this song and dance, he's picking the pockets of your soul and stripping your heart clean. Then, before you know it, you're waking up in an alleyway naked, starving, and terrified. And yet, you crawl back to Egomania, somehow deceiving yourself that he is your savior in your time of need. He decks you out in the finest clothes, and then you willing become his servant. He becomes your pimp, selling your soul out to the highest bidder; lust, jealousy, anger, vanity etc. An abundance of demands on my time has resulted in me letting my guard down, and more vulnerable to the subtle and deadly attacks of Egomania. He has somehow survived the car accident, but pride can't survive the realization of one's mortality. I finally sat to just listen to myself breath, and reflect on the the Martha question, "What one thing is necessary?" Redemption, redemption, redemption. Redemption that not only leads us into but allows us to share in the disposition and riches of Christ and His inheritance.

"The little 'I am' always sulks when God says I do. Let the little I 'I am' be shrivelled up by God's indignation-

I AM THAT I AM hath sent thee. He must dominate."

Oswald Chambers

And He will dominate with both severe power and tenderness in order to expose the lies Egomania has fed you and you have willingly believed.