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When life falls apart, confusion sets in. Personal questions are unanswerable, emotions are uncontrollable, and strength seems unattainable; such are the realities of shattering circumstances. Special Needs Ministries represents a source of hope for people by offering sound teaching, resources, and personal counseling. We invite you to visit the Special Needs blog, managed by Colleen Swindoll, director of Special Needs Ministries and the parent of a child with special needs. Colleen is intimately aware of the daily challenges you face, and she is honored for the opportunity to interact with you.

Illumination

by Colleen Swindoll Thompson

Some feelings are universal. At some point, we have all felt happy and hopeful; yet, we have all felt disappointed and distressed. We long for happiness and pursue pleasures. However, when pain enters, disillusionment and despair invade our lives. We fight for relief, looking for ways to fix or avoid painful situations. Some of us try to deny the pain or dodge it altogether. Possibly, you are in a place of sorrow, attempting to find a means of escape or relief, and nothing is working. The prophet Jeremiah and King David are two examples of men who endured downcast souls—hearts without hope in the presence of a God without a face. Yet, these two men made several choices to lift up their souls—choices you and I can make as well. They demonstrated courage, endurance, and a willingness to faithfully follow God, regardless of the cost. They chose to surrender to the Lord’s will, to seek the Lord’s Word, and to rely on the Lord’s tender mercies.

When my soul is downcast, I remember the penetrating words of one author, quoted in an earlier post but one that bears repeating:

Whatever you use to keep the pain at bay robs you of the flecks and nuggets of gold that feeling grief will give you. A fixation can keep you nicely defined and give you the illusion that your life has not fallen apart. But since your life may indeed have fallen apart, the illusion won’t hold up forever, and if you are . . . brave, you will be willing to bear disillusion. You begin to cry and writhe and yell and then to keep on crying; and then, finally, grief ends up giving you the two best things: softness and illumination.¹

One of the best illustrations of how God uses pain to soften and illuminate our lives is found in Galatians. Paul described his personal story. For years, Paul was a persecutor of Christians. However, by God’s grace, He sent Paul to the Arabian desert, where the apostle spent three years (Galatians 1:17–18). We know little about what happened during those years of isolation, but we know God transformed Paul from a persecutor of the faith to a servant of the faith. When Paul presented himself to the leaders of the church in Jerusalem, many didn’t know him by sight, but many had heard that “He who once persecuted us is now preaching the faith which he once tried to destroy” (1:23). God brought illumination from the darkness, and many were “glorifying God” because of it (1:24).

So it is in our lives. We experience seasons of delight and seasons of despair. And whether we are in a season of pleasure or in pain, all that comes into our lives is for the purpose of transforming us and teaching us to treasure God’s work in us. My friend, allow pain to do its work in you, through which you might someday find God’s perfect purpose for your life.

 

1. Anne Lamott, Traveling Mercies: Some Thoughts on Faith (New York: Pantheon, 1999), 72–73.

 

Removing the Blind Side

by Colleen Swindoll Thompson

Family traditions stay with us for life. One of our favorites was to go to the movies on Thanksgiving evening. I remember seeing Rain Man, Mr. Holland’s Opus, Apollo 13, and The Fugitive, among others. In 2009, we saw The Blind Side, a truthful account of Michael Oher, a homeless and traumatized boy who became an All-American football player and a first-round NFL draft pick with the help of a caring woman and her family. The family persistently and passionately determined to awaken within Michael this one truth: he was of priceless value and his value didn’t depend on his behavior. Their love scared him and yet softened his soul, transforming this street-smart survivor into a generous, talented football hero.

The same principle can be true of us. When we believe our lives have no value, we often revert to old habits of thinking and behaving, which usually cause us to run from or deny Christ’s unabashed love for us. It’s easy to become blinded to the truth. You and I cannot earn or behave well enough to gain the gift of God’s gracious love. One of the most magnificent moments I’ve had with my son happened when I realized my love for Jon would never compare to Christ’s love for me. Jon can’t behave in a way to earn my love, nor would I base my love for him on what he can do. I love him simply because he is. And that’s how God feels about you and about me. Isn’t that amazing grace, a sound so sweet it melts our hardened souls?

As we embark on this new year, may God remind you and me over and over and over that God’s unimaginable, unending, abounding love embraces each of us. It doesn’t matter what you can or can’t do. You are loved for being you. What a wonderful truth to embrace.

May It Be

by Colleen Swindoll Thompson

The most significant transformations that occur in our lives are often hidden by pain, as God carefully and purposefully carves our souls into His form. Painful events, shocking discoveries, and dark valleys offer us the choice to either trust God’s Word or ignore it. This past year, I wrestled with some of the deepest struggles I have ever encountered. I clung to resentments, clutched for control, ached with anxieties, longed for rest, and desired relief. Perhaps you, too, have had challenges, experienced anguish, and encountered a loss of hope. Perhaps you have felt that God appears absent, silent, unfair, and at times downright mean. Remember, significant transformations occur in our lives when we feel invisible or in pain or when God seems hidden.

As we begin a new year, I offer you a thought that may free you; after all, resolutions can be so binding. And when we fail to live up to such grand resolves, it just stinks. We focus on self-failure, self-loathing, self-whatever—forgetting to focus on what is eternal. Years ago, I read an excellent book titled The Dark Night of the Soul, by Dr. Gerald G. May. He writes of St. John of the Cross and Mother Teresa and shares profound insights from their lives. He writes: “When people speak of going through a dark night of the soul, they usually mean they’re experiencing bad things.” He continues: “A related misunderstanding is that the dark night is something that occurs once in a lifetime, that one gets through it and moves on to some permanent state of realized union and spiritual ecstasy.” Later, he writes that some habits, like “zealous self-sacrifice, may appear admirable on the surface, but devour us interiorly. . . . We cling to things, people, beliefs, and behaviors not because we love them, but because we are terrified of losing them.”¹ (OUCH!)

What I’ve not shared before is my terror of releasing all of my will to God’s will. I’ve been terrified to let go of self-justifications, an unforgiving spirit, and impatience with God—a desire for God to hurry up or an attitude for God to step aside and let me help Him hurry up.

How about you? Does this resonate within your soul? Though we’re all different, we share the universal struggle of dying to self. We struggle to accept the grace made available to us by Christ’s death on the cross and His resurrection. So, as we enter 2012, let’s set our focus on knowing the truth and allowing it to set us free.

We just celebrated the birth of Christ. Recall the exchange between the angel Gabriel and Mary (Luke 1:26–38). Pay careful attention to Gabriel’s encouraging words to Mary. These words reveal what must happen within us, so that we will be transformed for eternity—when our dark nights of the soul become noonday bright. I cling to the words: “Do not be afraid” (1:30), “For nothing will be impossible with God” (1:37), and to Mary’s answer: “Behold the bondslave of the Lord; may it be done to me according to your word” (1:38). For us all, as bondslaves of the Lord, fear not, and may God guide you in grace with His plan and His truth.

Oh, and happy New Year!

 

1. Gerald G. May, The Dark Night of the Soul: A Psychiatrist Explores the Connection between Darkness and Spiritual Growth (San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 2004), 1, 9, 60.

 

Letting Go, Looking Up

by Colleen Swindoll Thompson

I’ve been reflecting lately on my children’s growing-up years. How I longed to be the “perfect” mother, something I eventually learned was an illusion. I tried to keep my children from harm, but they have been hurt. I hoped they would enjoy life, but they have suffered. I wanted to kiss their “boo-boos” away, watch the children play, and hear them say life was great. As a mother, I tried to protect them from the pain of real life.

But the authentic truth is that accepting life as it is—embracing reality—is foundational to how we experience life. Notice I didn’t say that reality is easy-breezy. It can be awfully painful at times. However, as you choose to face the truth and embrace it, God gives you back what your soul is seeking: freedom, wisdom, knowledge, peace, understanding, and hope. Again, it’s a daunting task. Here are the words of one author who finally decided to give up addictions, denial, idealism, and running from grief. Finally, she accepted life as it was. She wrote:

Whatever you use to keep the pain at bay robs you of the flecks and nuggets of gold that feeling grief will give you. A fixation can keep you nicely defined and give you the illusion that your life has not fallen apart. But since your life may indeed have fallen apart, the illusion won’t hold up forever, and if you are . . . brave, you will be willing to bear disillusion. You begin to cry and writhe and yell and then keep on crying; and then, finally, grief ends up giving you the two best things: softness and illumination.¹

I would assume your experiences have been similar to mine: a mixed milieu of difficulties and delights, hurting and healing, indifference and acceptance, hopelessness and hope, frustration and freedom, and much more. Notice in the quote above that accepting reality and experiencing our grief result in softness and illumination. I take softness to mean a humbled soul at peace and illumination to mean clarity of strength and purpose. Born from real pain and real healing, those two qualities are priceless.

But two character flaws also come to light during times of suffering and grief: pride and selfishness. The following verses address our humble position before Christ and His work of restoration in us.

Humble yourselves, therefore, under God’s mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time. . . . And the God of all grace, who called you to His eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast. (1 Peter 5:6, 10 NIV)

 

1. Anne Lamott, Traveling Mercies: Some Thoughts on Faith (New York: Pantheon, 1999), 72–73.

Change

by Charles R. Swindoll

Change—real change—takes place slowly. In first gear, not overdrive. Far too many Christians get discouraged and give up. Like ice skating or mastering a musical instrument or learning to water ski, certain techniques have to be discovered and developed in the daily discipline of living. Breaking habit patterns you established during the passing of years cannot occur in a few brief days. Remember that. “Instant” change is as rare as it is phony.

God did not give us His Word to satisfy our curiosity; He gave it to change our lives. Can you name a couple of specific changes God has implemented in your life during the past six or eight months? Has He been allowed, for example, to change your attitude toward someone . . . or an area of stubbornness . . . or a deep-seated habit that has hurt your home and hindered your relationship with others for a long, long time . . . or a pattern of discourtesy in your driving . . . or a profane tongue . . . or cheating . . . or laziness?

Perhaps a better question would be, “Exactly what changes do you have on your personal drawing board?”—or—“What are you asking the Lord to alter and adjust in your life that needs immediate attention?”¹

 

A Note from Colleen: Consider a different focus this next year. In 2012, instead of trying quick-fix, soon-forgotten resolutions, take on the task of surrendering to the Lord and committing each day to His refinement of your soul. Here are some suggestions:

1. Read one chapter of Proverbs a day—31 chapters, one month of wisdom.
2. Memorize the book of James—it was an assignment given to me in seventh grade. To this day, passages from James direct my words, actions, and thoughts.
3. Read in the Bible about all God has promised. With more than 700 promises in the Bible, you’ll have more than one a day for the entire year. Several excellent books have been written just for this purpose of studying God’s promises. Books to consider:

• Bible Promises for You from the New International Version
• The NLT Bible Promise Book
• Bible Promises for Teens

 

1. Excerpted from Charles R. Swindoll, “The Tailor’s Name Is Change,” in Come Before Winter and Share My Hope (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1985), 340.

Second Homes

by Colleen Swindoll Thompson

There is a place I sometimes used to call my second home: the waiting room. I’ll never forget the hours I spent with my special-needs son in waiting rooms—rooms with foam-filled sofas, tattered magazines, crying children, and tired-looking people who were staring at smudged, blandly painted walls. If there were windows, I watched the outside world whirl by—beautiful women out and about, men in pressed suits connected to cell phones. I would get stuck in my thoughts . . . somewhere between envious and anxious, weary and worried. I wondered when the waiting would end.

Maybe you have been there or are there now, feeling secluded, lonesome, or friendless. I felt guilty at times, not attending to my other children. I would ask myself, “Who will make their meals or help them with their homework or listen to their day? I called those days “mazy” days . . . because I felt as though I had no map, no short cuts, and no destination.

Today, I’ve come to realize those experiences were not about “waiting,” though it sometimes felt that way. God has not forgotten you, though it might feel that way. I remember writing thank you notes; reading excellent “theological” magazines like People, In Style, and Fitness; eating chips and salsa; filing my nails; twisting my hair; and hating the slow passing of time. Then, (duh) I picked up my Bible and began to search in it for words like alone, help, wait, how long, and sorrow. I discovered that, really, the One waiting was Jesus, invisibly present and patiently longing for me to turn to Him for help. With all distractions removed, God reached into my soul and filled it with His truth. It’s not always fun, but it’s the making of who you are.

Recently, I came across this poem that I hope brings comfort to you today. After you read it, pick up God’s Word, and be filled with His love and care for you.

I thank God for bitter things;
They’ve been a ‘friend to grace’;
They’ve driven me from paths of ease
To storm the secret place.

I thank Him for the friends who failed
To fill my heart’s deep need;
They’ve driven me to the Savior’s feet,
Upon His love to feed.

I’m grateful too, through all life’s way
No one could satisfy,
And so I’ve found in God alone
My rich, my full supply!¹

 

1. Florence White Willett, as quoted in Charles R. Swindoll, Paul: A Man of Grace and Grit(Nashville: W Publishing, 2002), 242.

Dependence

by Colleen Swindoll Thompson

For most of us, asking for help is difficult. I really don't prefer it; some of you may not as well. Yet, God lets us know time and time again that we need help. After all, He refers to us most often as sheep—the most difficult and demanding of any livestock on earth. Admitting need is really about overcoming pride, not losing our strength . . . ouch!

Here are some passages that I found comforting as I learned to depend on my Lord for help. Whatever your needs are today, take comfort from God and His Word.

When afraid	Joshua 1; Isaiah 41
Bewildered	Isaiah 55:8–9
Alone	Psalm 13
Unsure of your direction	Psalm 19; 37; 119
In suffering	James 1; 1 Peter 1; 5; 2 Corinthians 1
Needing a promise from God	Psalm 40
In weakness	Psalm 18; 46
On a tough road	Psalm 121
Doubt	Lamentations 3
Seeking wisdom	Proverbs (one chapter a day)
Authentic living	James

Dear friend, let go of your desired independence, break the chains of pride, and search God's truth for whatever your needs may be.

Wishing for Something Different

by Colleen Swindoll Thompson

All was quiet in the office that day—all but the questions and quandaries that had plagued their minds over the past year. The doctor’s confirmed diagnosis resolved one set of questions, raised another set of questions, and removed their hope for a better outcome. Nothing was unusual in the months that followed—pain persisted, friendships faded, isolation invaded, and delight in life dwindled.

What happened to this imaginary family is not an imaginary situation to many families today; it is reality. It might be your reality or the reality of a close friend. Whether Alzheimer’s disease has invaded your family or the family of a friend, medical reviews report that the increase in the number of people diagnosed with the disease has created a “sandwich generation,” with parents placed in the middle of raising their own kids and also giving at least 20–30 hours a week of unpaid time to caring for a disabled parent.

A 2011 study by the Alzheimer’s Association reports that 1 in 8 Americans, aged 65 and over, have Alzheimer’s disease. Because the care-giving demands are so high, more than 60 percent of family caregivers live with high levels of stress. Thirty-three percent report symptoms of depression. The big picture reveals that caregivers provide 17 billion hours of unpaid care, valued at $202.6 billion.¹

Candidly, families run the grave risk of becoming embittered over time because caregiving demands are high and potentially costly, and family and friends are often at a loss as to how to help. These factors, along with negotiating the complex maze of insurance and medical and nursing care, create a precarious predicament when a loved one is diagnosed with Alzheimer’s.

However, there are a few simple things you can do to help manage the stress and emotional roller coaster that comes with caring for an Alzheimer’s patient.

1) Create a list of simple needs that others can meet for you, like running errands such as picking up pharmaceutical items or laundry, or helping transport the kids to their various activities, or cooking a meal. People desire to help; let them know how.

2) Allow others to care for you. Plan outings and establish e-mail connections with others on a regular basis. Connect with someone who will sit and allow you to weep over what you are going through. Find someone who will attend doctor appointments with your family, someone who will be present. Visit Web sites for organizations such as the Family Caregiver Alliance (www.caregiver.org) and the Alzheimer’s Association (www.alz.org) for support and encouragement.

3) Allow the Lord to soften your soul. It is still difficult for me to ask for and accept help—a sign of pride, not strength. I constantly have to remind myself of Peter’s comforting and challenging words: “Humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you at the proper time, casting all your anxiety on Him, because He cares for you” (1 Peter 5:6–7). The Lord cares for you and for your loved one with Alzheimer’s. Humble yourself before Him, throw your burdens on Him, and allow others to minister to you.

I wrote the majority of this blog shortly before my husband’s father was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. Now that we’ve received the news of his disease, we’ve decided to make him a blanket out of squared pieces of fabric. Each square will represent happy memories he’s had throughout life.

I encourage you, as a family, to draw near to each other. Remind each other that you’re in this together—that you’re on the same path.

 

1. “2011 Alzheimer’s Disease Facts and Figures,” Alzheimer’s Association (March 2011), http://www.alz.org/downloads/Facts_Figures_2011.pdf, accessed November 22, 2011.

Thanksgiving

by Charles R. Swindoll

I've got a love affair going with Thanksgiving. It has been going on for over seventy years, as far back as I can remember. Hands down, it's my favorite holiday of all.

Here's why.

First of all, it seems to blend together all we Americans hold precious and dear—without the sham and plastic mask of commercialism. Shopping centers jump from Halloween to Christmas. It's spooks to Santa . . . pumpkins to presents . . . orange and black to red and green. It's doubtful that any of us has ever seen (or will ever see) a Pilgrim hype. Just can't be done. Except for grocery stores, merchants are mute when Thanksgiving rolls around.

Second, it highlights the home and family. Thanksgiving is synonymous with stuff that can be found only at home—the warmth of a fireplace, early morning fussing around in the kitchen, kids and grandkids, long-distance phone calls, family reunions, singing around the piano, holding hands and praying before that special meal, the Cowboys versus somebody (they always beat) on the tube, a touch football game in the street or backyard, friends dropping by, pumpkin pie, homemade rolls, and six million calories.

It is a time of quiet reflection upon the past and an annual reminder that God has, again, been ever so faithful. The solid and simple things of life are brought into clear focus, so much so that everything else fades into insignificance.

Thanksgiving is good for our roots . . . it deepens them and strengthens them and thickens them . . . making our trunks and limbs more secure in spite of the threatening gale of our times. The meal, the memories, the music Thanksgiving brings have a way of blocking out the gaunt giant of selfishness and ushering in the sincere spirit of gratitude, love, and genuine joy.

Third, it drips with national nostalgia. For me, even more so than the Fourth of July. That holiday reminds us of a battle we won, giving us independence. This one takes us back to a simple slice of life over 375 years ago when our forefathers and foremothers realized their dependence on each other to survive. With Thanksgiving comes a surge of renewed patriotism, a quiet inner peace that whispers, "I am proud to be an American."

Thanksgiving puts steel into our patriotic veins. It reminds us of our great heritage. It carries us back with numbing nostalgia to that first dreadful winter at Plymouth where less than half the handful of people survived. It speaks in clear, crisp tones of forgotten terms, like: integrity . . . bravery . . . respect . . . faith . . . vigilance . . . dignity . . . honor . . . freedom . . . discipline . . . sacrifice . . . godliness.

Nostalgia washes over me as I take a walk in the woods and reflect on those brave men and women whose bodies lie beneath white crosses—veterans who fought and died that I might live and be free—and as I consider those statesmen who hammered out our laws on the anvil of wisdom, compassion, and human dignity. People who cared about the future of this grand land, not just their own comforts. Visionaries. Tough-minded, clear-thinking, sacrificial souls who did more than talk about integrity. They modeled it.

Fourth and finally, it turns our heads upward. Just the word Thanksgiving prompts the spirit of humility. Genuine gratitude to God for His mercy, His abundance, His protection, His smile of favor. At this holiday, as at no other, we count our blessings and we run out of time before we exhaust the list. And best of all, life simplifies itself. At Thanksgiving we come back to the soil and the sun and the rain which combine their efforts to produce the miracle of life, resulting in food for our stomachs and shelter for our bodies . . . direct gifts from our God of grace. From the annals of our rich heritage, there has been preserved this announcement which was made more than 375 years ago. It says it all:

TO ALL YE PILGRIMS

Inasmuch as the great Father has given us this year an abundant harvest of Indian corn, wheat, beans, squashes, and garden vegetables, and has made the forests to abound with game and the sea with fish and clams, and inasmuch as He has protected us from the ravages of the savages, has spared us from pestilence and disease, has granted us freedom to worship God according to the dictates of our own conscience; now, I, your magistrate, do proclaim that all ye Pilgrims, with your wives and little ones, do gather at ye meeting house, on ye hill, between the hours of 9 and 12 in the day time, on Thursday, November ye 29th of the year of our Lord one thousand six hundred and twenty-three, and the third year since ye Pilgrims landed on ye Pilgrim Rock, there to listen to ye pastor, and render thanksgiving to ye Almighty God for all His blessings.

—William Bradford
   Governor of Plymouth Colony, 1623

 

Excerpted from Growing Strong in the Seasons of Life, Copyright © 1983 by Charles R. Swindoll, Inc. All rights reserved worldwide. Used by arrangement with Zondervan Publishing House.

Awakening Grace

by Charles R. Swindoll

Philippians 1:6

Want a boost of encouragement? Our God is working toward that end in all of His children. It is His constant pursuit, His daily agenda, as He points us toward our final destination, "the Celestial City," as Bunyan calls it. Having cleansed our hearts of the debris of inward corruptions and the dust of sin's domination, God is now daily at work awakening grace within us, perfecting our character and bringing it to completion.

As I think about our becoming people of awakening grace, I believe at least three things are involved in the process:

First, it takes time. Learning anything takes time. Becoming good models of grace, it seems, takes years! Like wisdom, it comes slowly. But God is in no hurry as He purges graceless characteristics from us. But we can count on this, for sure: He is persistent.

Second, it requires pain. The "dust" in our room doesn't settle easily. I know of no one who has adopted a "grace state of mind" painlessly. Hurt is part of the curriculum in God's schoolroom.

Third, it means change. Being "graceless" by nature, we find it difficult to be anything different. We lack it, we resist it, we fail to show it, but God never stops His relentless working. He is committed to our becoming more like His Son. Remember? "He who began a good work . . . will carry it on to completion" (NIV).

 

Reprinted by permission. The Grace Awakening Devotional, Charles R. Swindoll, © 2003, Thomas Nelson, Inc., Nashville, Tennessee. All rights reserved. Copying or using this material without written permission from the publisher is strictly prohibited and in direct violation of copyright law.