Show and Tell

by Colleen Swindoll Thompson

The stuff had become a problem. Every time my son, Jon, and I headed out for an event, he gathered his stuff; an ever-growing collection of games and toys jammed into an ever-increasing sized tote bag. The time to purge had come.

But something interesting happened as we started our reduction plan. Jon’s anxiety increased when his stuff decreased. Jon was afraid to go anywhere without all his stuff. One afternoon, the core issue emerged. Jon was struggling to pick a few items to carry, and his tics were becoming pronounced. Suddenly, he looked up and said, “Mom, the kids won’t like me if I don’t have my stuff to show them.” Then he let out a huge sigh of relief. His authenticity broke my heart. Pushing back tears I asked, “Jon, do you think you have to have all your toys so kids will like you?” He slowly nodded his head yes.

We are all fragile. We fear rejection, whether we admit it or not. Think about how many of us show up at church with all our stuff—driving shiny cars, wearing stylish clothes, carrying expensive bags, keeping a firm grip on our kids so they don’t appear out of control. It’s our Christian version of show and tell. Now there is nothing inherently wrong with nice cars and cool clothes. I happen to love great style. However, there is something tragically wrong when we attach our worth as human beings to material things.

Most parents don’t have a child like Jon who believes his or her value resides in what he or she brings to show and tell. Because of Jon, I have had to ask some hard questions about genuine faith in daily life. It grieves me to know that church can be a place of grave pain for those with disabilities as well as for their caregivers. I don’t think anyone wakes up on Sunday morning wishing to inflict emotional or spiritual injury on those with disabilities, but it happens.

Below are some questions that I have had to wrestle with as a result of experiences with Jon. These questions are meaningless if we’re not willing to change. But if you have the courage to examine your heart, I cheer you on.

1) If a hidden camera were placed in my home, would I fear that others would see my actions? If so, what behaviors do I need to address?
2) Would I be uncomfortable driving to church in an old, beat-up car, wearing less than stylish clothing? If so, what drives that fear?
3) If I were to let my Sunday school or small group know I am struggling, would they judge me? If not, why have I not been more forthcoming in telling them my struggles?
4) Do different or disabled people make me uncomfortable? If so, why?
5) Do I worry what others might think if my children were to misbehave at church? If so, am I more concerned with my kid’s behavior than with our worshiping the Lord?

These tough questions provide a glimpse of what it’s like to learn from my son who has no ability to pretend. The lessons I’ve gleaned from my child are utterly refreshing! I didn’t feel that way at first, but as Jon has taught me about authenticity, pretending to have it all together is a load I don’t ever want to carry again. If you want to know your true value in Christ, you must let go of your stuff.

 

Please feel free to respond. I’m confident you will find many of us share this same struggle.

What We Need to Help Us through Trials

by Colleen Swindoll Thompson

When you encounter people who are going through a trial, do you find yourself thinking: I really want to help them, but what do they need most? As human beings, we all need the following qualities in our lives to help us through our toughest times. Perhaps pastors and leaders can consider including this list of qualities in their monthly meetings.

Trust: We need to sense acceptance and value from others without judgment of our behaviors, feelings, reactions, displays of emotion, and lack of functioning; this includes confidential and consistent care through a crisis.

Security: We need nonjudgmental support and confidential, consistent help with the management of our daily responsibilities.

Relational Support: We need the presence of people who are comfortable with silence, who are aware of our needs, and who are both consistent and dependable.

Hope: We need encouragement from other people; their help in locating resources; and their commitment to pray for us. We need their dependable and calming presence amidst our doubts, our coping techniques, our mood swings, our lack of control, and our familial demands. We need to see a ray of hope, a light at the end of the tunnel.

Guidance: We need help developing new skills, healthy coping strategies, self-awareness, problem-solving skills, stress-management techniques, and the capacity to deal well with relational conflicts.

Affirmation of strengths: We need others to possess a positive regard for our personal development and character formation.

Time: We need time to cry, to be mad, to have a pity party, to let go of wishes and dreams, to express hardship and sorrow, and to adjust to our trials.

Discovery of meaning and purpose in life: We need the opportunity to rebuild, restructure, reframe, and release life as it was before our crisis, so that we can live life as it is now.

Next time you encounter someone who is struggling, ask God how He might use you to create a supportive environment where healing can happen.

 

Soul Truth

by Colleen Swindoll Thompson

You won’t believe what happened in a very formal church, years ago. My son, Jonathan, not quite one year old, had the fantastic gift of throwing up everything he ate. So much so that I thought I would catch a lung at some point. I had moved to Dallas several years before and life had been tough so I ventured out and visited a church. I needed the reminder that God was still on His throne, sovereign, and always faithful.

Jon had so many struggles that getting out the door for church, with three kids under the age of five, was nearly impossible. Eventually, we made it and just as we walked into the formal, gorgeous, well-known, and respected church, Jon began to empty the contents of his stomach everywhere. I heard a big splat, and then Jon gasped for air, and then another splash, which spread across the beautifully polished, expensive tile. One usher came over with such care and offered to help. In the meantime, I grabbed a stack of church bulletins, hoping they would soak up something. On that day I discovered paper does not soak up vomit effectively! I also learned a few other lessons:

1) God doesn’t care about how we try to look, but He does care about our hearts. That is freeing.
2) We can’t possibly live without some messes, either inside or outside our lives. That is relieving.
3) Pride refuses help, but humility welcomes help as God’s hand reaching to you. That is refreshing.

I also learned some funny lessons:

1) Because vomit and stink go together, wear your junk clothes.
2) If throwing up is even a slight possibility, stay home.
3) Church bulletins don’t soak up a single drop of anything, so carry paper towels.

I recently found this prayer written by a man who lost his children and needed some help drying his tears. I love his humble, thoroughly honest words.

Lord of reality
make me real
not plastic
synthetic
pretend phony
an actor playing out his part
hypocrite.
I don’t want
to keep a prayer list
but to pray
nor agonize to find Your will
but to obey
what I already know
to argue
theories of inspiration
but submit to Your Word.
I don’t want
to explain the difference
between eros and philos
and agape
but to love.
I don’t want
to sing as if I mean it
I want to mean it.
I don’t want
to tell it like it is
but to be it
like You want it.
I don’t want
to think another needs me
but I need him
else I’m not complete.
I don’t want
to tell others how to do it
but to do it
to have to be always right
but admit it
when I’m wrong.
I don’t want
to be a census taker
but an obstetrician
nor an involved person
a professional
but a friend.
I don’t want
to be insensitive
but to hurt
where other people hurt
nor to say
I know how you feel
but to say God knows
and I’ll try
if you’ll be patient with me
and meanwhile I’ll be quiet.
I don’t want
to scorn the clichés
of others
but to mean everything I say
including this.¹

 

1. Joseph Bayly, “A Song of Single-Mindedness,” in Psalms of My Life (Wheaton, Ill.: Tyndale House, 1978), 40. Used by permission.

 

Porcupineish

by Colleen Swindoll Thompson

I woke up on the wrong side of the bed recently, which is a nice way of saying I was cranky. It hadn't been a superb week, so perhaps my snappish self emerged from hibernation that morning. By sundown, my attitude had gone from snappish to cantankerous to pretty much porcupineish. Usually, I try to find humor or a hobby to enjoy, but that didn't really help. Since my quills were coming unglued—and sticking into my loved ones—I did a little study of porcupines; the news wasn't so likable. Just read on:

1) The word porcupine means "spined pig" or "quill pig." That day, I could relate.
2) The porcupine uses its sharp quills for body armor. If the porcupine hits an animal with its quills, the quills become embedded in the animal; and each quill has about a dozen barbs. Once implanted in an attacker's flesh, the barbs swell from the surrounding skin moisture and heat which force the quill in deeper. Death can occur if an infection sets in or if the quill prevents the victim from swallowing water or food.
3) Finally, porcupines are solitary, isolated animals.¹

It's nothing new to discuss people and their animal-like traits. Take a good look at Scripture. Remember the hard-working ant, the gentle dove, the shrewd serpent, and the sparrow's needs being supplied by Christ? Most commonly in Scripture, people are referred to as sheep; now that's one humbling study! Porcupines are never mentioned in Scripture, but that doesn't mean we're off the hook. So often, Christians behave like porcupines, which is so opposite to God's desire that Christians be in harmony with others—that is, with others, they are honest, kind, peace-giving, merciful, and gracious, to name a few.

As I pondered that porcupineish day I had experienced, some saddening similarities between porcupines and my attitude sunk into my soul. Thus, we in the body of Christ need to remember a few things:

1) We often are well armored and prepared to fight against what we don't like.
2) When we don't like "whatever"—and the list can be endless—we speak words which sink quill-like into another's soft soul.
3) When we attack others, the barbs sink deeply, and those people can suffer from the pain of being attacked. Some quills we use have names: gossip, betrayal, rejection, pride, false hope, pretense, judgment, and resentment. Thus, our porcupineish actions cut off the circulation to Christ's transforming work.
4) Finally and most specifically for many within the disabled population, church often is a place where porcupines reside. Many visitors to a church may never return because of the quill punctures they receive to their already beaten-down souls.

If you act like a porcupine, you have work to do. I apologized to my family for being armored and quilly. And my own soul has been pierced with many barbs, but the Lord can remove them if I'm humbled and willing to let Him do so. That's one I'm working on today as I write.

Do you need to take off the quilled body armor? Then ask for forgiveness, help someone in need, and speak with kindness. Or have you been pierced by a porcupine? Then pull out the quills of bitterness . . . PULL THEM OUT! Remember, we are all sheep that need direction. The Lord can guide us past the porcupines . . . and make sure we don't take on their qualities as well.

 

1. NatureWorks, "North American Porcupine," New Hampshire Public Television, http://www.nhptv.org/natureworks/porcupine.htm (accessed April 24, 2012).

Keep in mind that Insight for Living Ministries cannot endorse everything other Web sites print, so we encourage you to approach with wisdom and discernment all Web sites referenced on insight.org or insightworld.org.

Getting Out the Door

by Colleen Swindoll Thompson

At my house, getting out the door, especially to church, is almost an Olympic event. There are wardrobe crises, tired teenager tensions, sibling struggles—at times it’s more a combat zone than a home. I’ve observed many families with the same struggles. But isn’t it amazing how our attitudes change when we finally clamor into church and sit down? Those early-morning entanglements dissipate, and we worship. And no matter what went on before, God is delighted to have us there.

When my son Jon was born with disabilities, the freedom to do things like get out the door with ease was removed. I’d never considered that a freedom until it was lost. But now I hold in high regard those without the freedom of ease . . . ease in movement, seeing, hearing, tying shoes, brushing hair. In his book, Always Looking Up, Michael J. Fox describes his morning routine:

I blindly fumble a plastic vial from the nightstand, dry-swallow a couple of pills. . . . I swing my legs around to the side of the bed, and the instant my feet hit the floor, the two of them are in an argument. A condition called “dystonia,” a regular complement to Parkinson’s, cramps my feet severely and curls them inward, pressing my ankles toward the floor and the soles of my feet toward each other as though they were about to close together in prayer. . . . The aching will persist for the next twenty minutes or so. . . . 

Grasping the toothpaste is nothing compared to the effort it takes to coordinate the two-handed task of wrangling the toothbrush and strangling out the line of paste onto the bristles.¹

Fox explains how the disease overtakes the body, affecting his emotions, intellect, and physical, social, and spiritual well-being. Even as I type, I’m reminded to be thankful for the freedom of controlled movement, of small muscles working together.

As I raise Jon, I realize how many freedoms he will never have. Throughout life, he will regularly struggle to get out the door . . . yet, right now on Sundays, he is the one person in our house who doesn’t complain. He puts on his favorite suit and tie and finds no reason to fuss. In that, he is more free than most.

Job recorded these words right after a devastating loss:

The LORD gave and the LORD has taken away;
may the name of the LORD be praised. (Job 1:21 NIV)

This verse brings to mind a few things we all should remember as we get out the door and face the world.

1. To those with bodily ease—praise God for your freedom. It’s a gift, not a right. Call each part of your body to praise Him. Thank Him for your eyes, arms, legs, back, mind . . . every part. When someone else is slow, messy, shaky, or mentally unstable, resist judgment. You have no idea what that person went through just to get out the door.
2. To those without bodily ease—I deeply admire you and applaud you for your courage, determination, endurance, and humility. You’re a hero, a person of grand character. You long to be free and whole in heaven, but you’re changing lives right here without saying a word.
3. To all of us, with and without bodily ease—learn to love one another, serve one another, and live peacefully together.

1. Michael J. Fox, Always Looking Up: The Adventures of an Incurable Optimist (New York: Hyperion, 2009), 2.

A Possible Revolution

by Colleen Swindoll Thompson

It was a bustling Sunday morning at church. The children’s classes and adult fellowships overflowed with folks who appeared focused as well as fulfilled. The church was highly respected throughout the community and centrally located in one of the fastest growing cities of the nation.

A visiting couple assessed the morning’s activities. Because their son was autistic with attention and behavioral challenges, they chose to have him stay with his caregiver that Sunday. They had attended several other churches—usually returning only once—due to their son’s challenges. But this time, the people involved in various ministries and children’s programs appeared welcoming—something the couple had longed for ever since their son’s diagnosis was confirmed 12 months prior. The two exchanged a hopeful glance. They enjoyed the worship service and spent extra time talking with the children’s pastor as well as observing the interaction between the kids and Sunday school teachers.

They brought their son on the second visit and observed his interactions with the other kids and the Sunday school teachers. Although the church did not have a specific special needs classroom or program, the couple hoped their son would adjust smoothly.

They met with the pastor that next week. They had questions and a few concerns, but they desired for this to become their church home. When the couple expressed their needs and the challenges of parenting a child with disabilities, the pastor tried to show sympathy. But his words came across as insincere pity, similar to the reactions of people at the grocery store.

After that, the couple gave up on going to church.

More often than most imagine, an “un-welcome” mat on the church doorstep greets almost 100 percent of families with a disabled child. In a place God designed for its members to extend understanding and acceptance, families are shunned or ignored. No one desires to be distasteful or disagreeable, but disapproval and distance occurs nevertheless.

Does this describe your church? Could everything else be in such precise working order that nobody notices the doorbell is broken? Although unity remains challenging, it is possible.

One of the strongest disability ministry organizations is “Joni and Friends,” founded by quadriplegic Joni Eareckson Tada. For more than 30 years Joni and Friends has developed outstanding resources for churches with disabilities ministries. The Web site address is:
www.joniandfriends.org/church-relations/

Here are some specific suggestions for how this ministry can help fix your church’s doorbell:

1. For individuals, families, K–12 educators, and interested church members, this overview shows you which course or set of materials is right for you:
   www.joniandfriends.org/education-and-training/


2. Consider a one-day training seminar for your pastor, church leaders, and volunteers. The Web site address is:
   www.joniandfriends.org/christian-institute-on-disability/international-education/


3. For further study for pastors or lay leaders, consider taking a graduate or undergraduate course on church ministry and disability. Joni and Friends’ The Christian Institute on Disability offers many classes online as well in specific locations. You will find an excellent listing of options here:
   www.joniandfriends.org/christian-institute-on-disability/accredited-coursework/

Becoming Real

While driving to work today, my attitude wasn’t so great. More often than not, I’m a bit like Tigger from Winnie-the-Pooh, but today I felt like Eeyore. I know in my head that stress and demands exhaust my spirit, but the journey from my head to my heart is a long one. On days like this, I look back through my journals. Doing this helps me remember that life is a process. Dated September 2005, I wrote the following. Reading it again today lifted my heart. I hope it encourages you as well.

I picked up one of my favorite books today . . . The Velveteen Rabbit. It’s a story about a soft toy rabbit who learns from an old rocking horse what it means to become real. The nursery setting delights me, and there is such wisdom shared in conversations between the skin horse and the velveteen rabbit. But who would have thought the process of becoming real would entail such anguish?

The old horse helps the rabbit understand just what it means to be real. Becoming real leads to shabbiness. It means we’ll eventually fall apart, something that won’t happen when we just sit upon the shelf and appear beautiful. The experiences of having whiskers pulled out, pink lining turning gray, and stitching coming loose turns a fragile person into a real person. There is a lot of shelf-sitting in my life, a lot of waiting and wanting to belong. But that won’t make me real. For the rabbit, love turned him shabby. And, though threadbare, he became real. The same will be true for me—if I allow myself to love and be loved so much that my layers fall apart.

I’m learning now a few things about being real:

• Real is being able to say, “I don’t know.”
• Real is allowing myself to fall into the arms of Jesus without worry.
• Real is knowing that I may not understand God’s ways, then remembering that those of valiant faith were never told “why”—they simply believed and followed.
• Real is saying, “I’m sorry.”
• Real is being present in each moment and knowing that the present is exactly that . . . a gift to enjoy, not a possession to own.

In the next two weeks, I will continue talking about becoming real. Today, I hope you’ll let the lesson of The Velveteen Rabbit prepare your heart for the process. Have a great week.

Mending Fences

What is it that defines property lines, provides security for kids, and gives privacy for parents? Fences, of course. The one in our backyard happens to be made of wood and, much of the time, is barely standing. It’s been slowly falling due to age, weather, and incessant pounding by our two dogs: Sherman, a 100-pound German Shepherd and his pal Desoto, a 130-pound Rottweiler. Consequently, we’ve been slowly repairing this wobbly, wooden fence, which requires about 12,000 nails. Okay, maybe not that many . . . but a lot.

Repairing our fence has become a family project. However, our 15-year-old son has decided his responsibility is to dictate and direct our activities. Any question as to his reign is pronounced “unfair.” Because he loudly protests and asserts his “rights,” we, his parents, believe he may need more practice—more work in order to learn that leading begins by serving with humility and honor.

Considering that our fence was once again in disarray, he was chosen to fix it. He seized the box of nails and a sledge hammer. Our parting words were: “Smashing the nails causes them to bend, snap, and twist . . . drive them carefully.”

As commander in chief, he clobbered the nails, twisting and bending them with every blow. Later that day, we evaluated his work, counting 15 straight nails. Finding such work unacceptable, we said what any leader would say: “Remove all the bent nails before continuing the work you were asked to do.” He removed 40 mangled nails the first day; the next day, it was 30, then 27, then 10, until finally the work was completed with straight and firmly set nails. Together we studied his work, affirming his attitude change as well as assessing the damage he had done—he’d left splintered wood and many holes.

This scenario isn’t limited to 15-year-old boys or to families. The church body bears the marks of similar pounding. Our words are like nails. Tragically, church members often cause the greatest damage. Pastors are splintered by angry letters. Families are smashed by harsh judgment. Teenagers wither under the heat of illicit gossip. And souls already splintered by addictions, mental illness, depression, divorce, or disabilities receive the hardest blows. Ninety-eight percent of our disabled population gets pounded by people who presume to know it all, who believe they must give their unsolicited opinions, and who believe it is their job to control rather than serve one another.

Church families, let’s serve one another, mending and restoring our splintered souls!

Not sure how? I have found that three of the best tools for restoring one another are:

1) Affirm your pastor. Remember, for every criticism, he needs five affirmations. FIVE! Be an agent of change. Affirm his use of time, his study, and his commitment to truth. Affirm his desire to lead and shepherd the church. Affirm the boundaries he has set up in his life, his consistency in his spiritual walk. And affirm his conviction to maintaining his marriage.

2) Accept the vulnerabilities of others. Its takes courage and personal strength to admit our struggles. Show compassion, speak with kindness, say little, and listen much.

3) Ask these questions of yourself before saying anything: Do I live in that person’s home? Am I assuming to know his or her pain? Are my words and actions critical or opinionated? Have I offered to give my time to support his or her need? What good will come if I speak? Have I lived in that marriage? Have I received information through gossip? Have I dealt with my own personal struggles? Am I allowing myself to be transformed by the Word of God, or am I more interested in trying to change someone else?

Remember: affirm, accept, and ask! If you do, you’ll be like the wise person in Ecclesiastes.

The words of the wise prod us to live well.
They’re like nails hammered home, holding life together.
They are given by God, the one Shepherd. (Ecclesiastes 12:11 MSG)

Other Resources:

1. "Watch Your Tongue" Video
   Have you spoken words in anger you'd give anything to take back? Do you clearly remember harsh words spoken to you years ago? Chuck Swindoll talks about the tongue.
    
2. A Life Well Lived series by Charles R. Swindoll
   4 messages on 4 CDs with 99-page softcover Bible Companion
    
3. Job's Counsel for Enduring Verbal Assaults by Charles R. Swindoll
   2 messages on 2 CDs
    

Truth or Myth?

by Colleen Swindoll Thompson

It’s time to explore the truth (and myths) about our disabled population. Don’t run! For those who preach and teach the Word of God, your calling includes those with diseases and disabilities. I urge you to evaluate your attitude regarding them.

Consider the following questions with reflection and examination. Be both teacher and student, presenter and evaluator. Don’t answer immediately. Ponder.

1) Do you think people with disabilities are equipped with extra bravery, courage, or internal fortitude?

2) Do you think God allows certain people to have disabilities because He knows they can handle adversity?

3) Do you think individuals or families affected by disabilities are allowed to get angry or doubt their faith?

4) Do you think disabilities only affect disabled individuals, or do disabilities affect others too?

5) Do you think people know someone is disabled because they look different or they use visible devices (such as wheelchairs, crutches, prosthetic devices, or breathing apparatus)? Do you think those with disabilities are physically disfigured?

6) Do you think the largest group with significant needs is under age 25?

7) Do you think only those who specialize in medicine, psychology, or education can provide disability care?

8) Do you think the Christian community brings a significant amount of supportive care to families with disabled members?

9) Do you think a church must have specialized curriculum, classrooms, and experts to have a disability care ministry?

10) Do you think Scripture provides the most important support?

Before Christ was crucified, He stated these timeless words: “The truth will make you free” (John 8:32). To live in freedom, we must know truth then allow truth to guide us. May grace and peace continue to be your steadfast guide as you seek the truth about the disabled and how your ministry or church might share Christ’s love with them.

Creatures of Habit

by Colleen Swindoll Thompson

I am definitely a creature of habit, and maybe you are too. A habit provides a sense of security and simplicity. Studies show that with persistence and patience a habit can be created in about 30 days.

However, sometimes we have harmful habits that hinder our spiritual growth. Consider for a moment what you believe about other people. Do you set certain conditions that must be met before you will accept others? Do you reject or judge others based upon their appearance, mannerisms, attendance or involvement in church, how their children behave?

I recently surveyed a few people who live with chronic pain, are divorced, are depressed, have an invisible disability, or are grieving the loss of a loved one. I asked them to comment on how they are treated by professing Christians. I’m going to be candid here: 99 percent replied they have been rejected, judged, or looked down upon because they didn’t “fit in.” The pain from such judgment has caused almost all of these folks to stop interacting with other Christians.

As creatures of habit, where you sit in church is vastly important. Why? Well, one out of every two people have some sort of disabling condition, meaning someone to your right or left will most likely fit this description. That is tough to swallow until we highlight some great news. We may be creatures of habit, but our habits don’t have to be set in concrete. We can choose to form new habits. And if we start developing habits based on biblical truths rather than personal preference, revolutionary changes can happen within the Christian body!

Below is a list of the top three relational needs reported by people who suffer from a disabling condition. Next to each need is a biblical truth as to how to respond. The third column lists habits we need to develop. I urge you to examine the need, seek to learn God’s direction from His Word, and then create habits which put truth into action. Being a creature of habit is great, if the habit is grounded in God’s timeless truth.