Reenie's Resources

String Around My Finger, Poppy Over My Heart

2011-11-11T00:44:00.000-08:00

Greater love has no one than this, that one lay down his life for his friends.

When I was a little girl, attending my school’s Remembrance Day services, I wore my annual poppy with great pride but little understanding. I was happy for the peace of my beautiful Canada, and I was glad all the soldier-killing wars were far away and long, long gone.

They certainly seemed long gone. Surely, they’d never be necessary again.

Yesterday, decades later, I attended my school’s Remembrance Day ceremony, along with my students. I’m thankful my school chose to emphasize the solemnity and significance of the occasion. I’m glad my students seem much more aware of this day’s meaning, than I was at their age.

I’m sorry, though, for the reasons this day is so relevant to them.

In our day, in our time, Canadian soldiers – both men and women now – are once again travelling to dangerous places around the world, deliberately sacrificing family life, home comforts, and, potentially, their very lives, because of their commitment to keep peace for other people.

The Bible says, “Greater love has no one than this, that one should lay down his life for his friends.”

Our peacekeepers define “friends” very broadly. They consciously, intentionally lay their lives on the line for people whose names they don’t know, whose mother tongues they don’t speak, and whose political histories they’ll never fully understand.

During the two World Wars, Canadian men often joined the armed forces after being drafted. Most went willingly, but usually only after they’d been told to go.

In this decade, the Canadian government no longer requires peacekeepers to join the armed forces. What’s remarkable is that, driven by their own commitment to make the world a better place for others, they go anyway.

Today, with my heart and eyes full, I pause.

I remember.

I say, “Thank you!”

And when tomorrow comes, I pray I will remember then, too.
· Reenie

Two-Handed Praying

2011-09-25T00:27:00.000-07:00

We’re all familiar with Jesus words: “Whatever you ask in my name, I will do it.”

Yet, eventually, we all come up against the uncomfortable truth that God doesn’t always do what we ask Him to do.

When that happens, some of us get mad at God and stop talking to Him entirely. We figure we’ll teach Him a lesson by giving Him the silent treatment.

Others of us don’t walk away from Him entirely, but we do stop praying for things we want and need, and for Him to do anything in and through us. He’d likely say no, anyway, we think, because He seems to like giving us only hard things. So we keep walking alongside Him, but all communication has ceased.

Some of us want to keep praying, but we’re so confused by God’s methods that we play it safe. We pray only for things that are within the realm of our imaginations. We don’t ask for much...and we don’t get much in return.

I suggest we continue to pray... but to exercise two-handed praying.

With one open hand, we must continue to ask God for what we need... and want.

The Bible book of James says, “You don’t have because you don’t ask.”

Jesus summed up at least one of His parables with, “You should always pray, and not give up.”

The Bible also says, “Nothing is impossible with God.”

Only God knows (literally) the things He’d like to give us, or do in us, or in the lives of others...but He hasn’t – because we haven’t asked.

So we should pray for things we need and want, good things we want God to do. We must ask, ask big, and keep on asking.

With the other open hand, we pray in surrender.

Jesus also taught us to pray: “Your will be done on earth as it is in Heaven.”

Later, on His way to the cross, He begged His Father to let Him escape the agony ahead. But then, “Not My will but Yours be done.”

Yes, we must pray in surrender, letting God do what He wants and accepting that His ways are better and wiser than ours.

But we must not surrender without asking! Surrendering without asking is resignation, which quickly creates a cold, hard heart.

And we must also not ask without surrendering! Asking without surrender is acting like a spoiled child, demanding God give us everything we ask for, claiming we know best.

But when we pray with two hands, open hands, we ask great things from a good God...and we trust Him to do what’s best.

We see Him do amazing things in response to bold prayers.

We hear Him say “No” in ways we realize are the very best.

We also trust Him to be good, to give and to do good things.

And we trust Him to lovingly withhold what is not-the-best.

So let’s have no more one-handed praying.

No more closed or selfish hearts.

Two open hands.

Ask and surrender.

Watch and see what God will do.

-- Reenie
Thanks to JH for helping me clarify the points in this post.

If You Don't Do It...

2011-09-10T21:51:00.000-07:00

Three young women were asking each other,
"Do men like strong women... or meek women?"

The woman who introduced the question is capable. She's independent. She's strong.
And she's confident...about everything except her single status.

What she was really asking was:
"Should I change who I am, so that a man will like me?"

Her friends offered various perspectives, none of them providing much wisdom.

I wish I'd told those women they'd been trapped into believing a lie.

The lie is that we have to be a certain way,
we have to do certain things...
in order to be loved romantically,
in order to be married.

Sometimes,
it's easy for us, ahem, older folks to tell young women they're wonderful and beautiful just as they are.
It's so obvious they don't need to be like anyone else.

But sometimes we who are older are not that much wiser.
We get stuck on the same lie, though usually in a different form.

Lots of us
-- old and young, male and female --
believe we have to "be" and "do" a certain way.

Otherwise, we think,
we won't be good enough to "win" a romantic relationship,
deserve a good career path,
or earn society's approval in general.

Sometimes, we think,
those who don't conform
don't even deserve to have good friends
or the love and blessing of their families.

But no matter how old we are,
how much experience we've gained,
no matter how wise we should be...
if we believe these things,
we've been trapped by the same lie.

The TRUTH is that God didn't make us to be all one way.
He didn't make us to squeeze into our society's mold,
or live up to anyone else's standard.

The God of the Universe planned for each of us to be unique,
and He wants us to stay that way.

Therefore, we shouldn't focus our thoughts on figuring out what the world tells us to be,
and becoming that.

We shouldn't make it our aim to be like our most popular friends
or our most ambitious co-workers.
And we certainly shouldn't try to be like the people on the magazine covers.

Our noble and lofty lifetime goal should be
...to become the best person God made us to be.

Not always easy,
but perfectly simple.

If God made you to be the nurturer, the caregiver, in your family and circle of friends,
but you're always trying to be the entertainer...
who will do the caregiving?

If God made you to be the entertainer,
but you feel guilty for not being the caregiver...
who will do the entertaining?

If God made you to be a thinker who shares wisdom borne of experience,
but you get jealous because the entertainer gets all the attention...
who will pass along the wisdom you've learned?

If God made you to be an artist, the creator of large and messy projects,
but you spend your life longing to be an organizer whose house is always spic-and-span...
who will bring your creative beauty into the world?

And if God made you to be a teacher...
an organizer,
a courageous leader,
a change-maker,
an encourager,
a gentle supporter,
a coach and guide,
a fixer,
a builder,
a designer,
a friend with a listening ear...

but you waste your time and energy trying to be someone else...

who will do the job of being "you"?

YOU are precious and wonderful.
God designed you
and created you uniquely,
just as you are.

You're not perfect,
and you're not complete.

I'm not either.
That's why we need each other.

So, I beg of you...
let's become the best YOU and ME that we can be.

Together,
let's care,
and encourage,
and entertain,
and share wisdom,
and support,
and lead,
and repair,
and build,
and create,
and make a difference...

Let's, each of us, fill the one-of-a-kind shape God designed for us to fill.

Together we'll be complete.
Together, we'll do awesome things.
And, together, we'll be just about perfect.

Setting an Example

2011-09-07T23:07:00.000-07:00

I went for lunch with my teenaged nephew BB the other day.
He chose a restaurant in downtown Calgary,
and I agreed only because it was a holiday,
and I thought it would be easy to find parking.

We found a space in a privately-owned lot,
and then I tackled the automated payment system.

I slipped in my credit card,
then waited for selections.
Eventually, it offered several,
and I punched "holiday rate", expecting to get a cheaper-than-usual hourly rate.
Instead, I was charged $12 for our intended two hours of parking.

I wasn't happy, but it seemed there was nothing we could do to change it.
We waited for the machine to produce the receipt.
And waited some more.

I was getting a little hot under the collar
when a parking company employee drove onto the lot.

I quickly made sure to tell him exactly what I thought of his system.
I didn't yell, and I didn't use any words my mother would disapprove of,
but my tone left no doubt that his system stank.

To his credit, he immediately left his car,
helped me re-navigate the system,
and pay a more reasonable rate --
only $6 for two hours.
Bargain.

I expressed my concern (same polite words; same unmistakable tone)
that the system would now charge my credit card twice... or even more.

But again, there was nothing else I could do.

As we walked to the restaurant,
I was still muttering fiercely in the same unmistakeable tone.

But BB,
my young 16-year-old nephew,
who had listened to his "mature" auntie complain up one side of that system and down the other and then start all over again --
BB responded to me with words that were gracious and patient.

I pointed my finger at him and said, "YOU are showing a much better attitude than I am."
But I returned to my complaining a couple times more.

BB expressed understanding of my frustration
but was always gracious.

As he continued to respond gently and quietly,
I finally said,
"Okay -- I'm going to stop complaining now."

And, strangely, when I stopped complaining,
my attitude about everything else improved, too.

A couple thousand years ago, Saint Paul advised his young protegee, Timothy:
Don't let anyone look down on you because you're young.
But be an example in life, in love, in faith and in purity!

I guess the lesson is still current.

Thanks for the example, BB!

The Worst Thing About Teachers

2011-09-04T22:51:00.000-07:00

The best thing about teachers is their humanity.

They have a remarkably personal ability to build a caring, one-on-one relationship with each individual student.

They can adapt the very same lesson to fit each student’s unique learning needs.

Teachers have an amazing capacity to give everything to their students

every single day.

Then, in evenings and on weekends, they keep giving more.

Teachers know their students’ feelings are fragile.

They also know their students need firm boundaries.

They can be gentle and tender-hearted one moment,

and no-nonsense firm two minutes later.

They’re always learning –

new strategies, new content and new insights about their students.

Teachers stretch themselves a little further,

give themselves a little more,

work a little harder

and persevere a little longer,

hoping just a little more effort will make the difference for one of their students.

The worst thing about teachers is their humanity.

Teachers have a lot of patience...

but sometimes they run out.

They keep on giving...

but then they get exhausted.

Teachers take care of students, colleagues and parents...

but also need time to take care of themselves.

They’re always learning new ideas...

but there’s a lot they’ll never know.

Teachers love each student...

but they have to work harder at loving some than others.

Teachers are professionals...

but they'll never be perfect.

Teachers' gift... and their limitation...is that they're only human.

Underthanked

2011-08-20T22:11:00.000-07:00

In the midst of a conversation about unfulfilled dreams, my wise friend pointed out that one aspect of her life is nearly perfect. “I have such a great roommate,” she said. “And I admit God goes largely underthanked for that.”

Her cool, new word – underthanked – stuck in my head and didn’t let go. I, too, must admit God goes underthanked for many of my blessings.

I try to make a habit of saying, “I’m thankful.” Unfortunately, I usually follow it with a “BUT”.

As in, “I’m thankful I live in a large, world-class city... BUT commuting takes so much of my time!”

Or, “I’m thankful I’m healthy... BUT I wish I were slimmer.”

And, of course, “I’m thankful for my freedom as a single woman... BUT some things aren’t fun to do by myself.”

So...here’s the start of my new Thank-You-With-No-Buts list.

Thank You, God...
For giving me five terrific nieces and nephews, and for how they’ve changed my life.
For my solid family, and for my parents who’ve been married for 50 years.
For my friends who are so loving and loyal they dropped everything to take care of me when I needed it.
For all the educational opportunities I’ve had – and still have.
For the freedom and opportunity to travel – and safety when I do.
For giving me gifts and skills that I enjoy using – and for giving me enjoyable work.
For giving me very good health – and for allowing me to recover from illness.
For my own home, where I’m safe, warm and comfortable.
That I live in a country which has no war within its borders.
...where I, as a woman, have the same freedoms as men.
... where I can worship openly without fear of persecution.
... where I can trust the law to be mostly just.
... where I can vote... and make a difference.
... where I have excellent medical care available, at hardly any cost.
...and.....
Thank You, God!

-- Reenie

Dietrich Bonhoeffer Plays Drums at Centre Street Church

2011-08-17T21:48:00.000-07:00

Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a German pastor and teacher, is well-known for being executed by the Nazis for his role in a plot to assassinate Hitler. What is less well-known is that Dietrich was also a highly-skilled musician. In his large family, where everyone sang and played musical instruments, Dietrich’s siblings said he was the best pianist of them all.*

A young man who plays the drums at Centre Street Church, where I attend, resembles a young Dietrich Bonhoeffer. Like the Dietrich of 70 years ago, our drummer has a fair, round face and light-colored hair, and he wears round wire glasses. Whenever I see this young man on stage, I imagine for a moment Dietrich Bonhoeffer is playing drums in church today.

That makes me think of how church music has changed from 1930’s-40’s Germany to 21^st century Canada. If Dietrich Bonhoeffer were expressing his worship through music in 2011, perhaps he’d be playing drums instead of the more traditional piano. Very likely, he’d be playing a much different musical style.

But some people, sincere Christ-followers, will be uncomfortable with that suggestion. The hymns used in the German church when Dietrich Bonhoeffer was alive, were worshipful and sacred, they feel. They have a hard time believing that the music sung in today’s Canadian churches is worshipful. After all, the music is so much faster and louder. The songs are less rhythmical, and many of them don’t even rhyme!

Let me assure you – I won’t claim that all of today’s church music is worshipful. But nor do I believe all traditional music is worshipful either.

Worshipfulness of music (if we can call it that) has nothing to do with volume, tempo, beat, or the era in which it was written. A song’s worship value depends solely on the truths contained in the lyrics.

To each generation, God has given a new way to worship Him through music. Thousands of years ago, the Psalmist said God had put a new song in his mouth. (Psalms 40:3). Today, God is still doing that for those He’s gifted to compose worship music.

Now we who are, well, older, or who have different musical preferences, don’t have to like the new music. We are, however, called to love the people who are making the music.

We are all members of the Body of Christ. At all ages, in many languages, and through the music of every generation, we worship Him together. And He is pleased.

*Bonhoeffer: Pastor, Martyr, Prophet, Spy; by Eric Metazas; published by Thomas Nelson.

Don’t Believe Everything You Hear

2011-08-15T22:44:00.000-07:00

A young friend of mine shared good and surprising news with me today. For a few months, she’s been heavy-hearted about a major rift between mutual friends, friends who were once close and loved each other dearly. The good news is that the friends are taking steps to reconcile.

The surprising news, my friend said, is that God is using her to bring about the reconciliation. Her own family, she added softly, always called her “The Problem”. Whenever there was a family conflict, they said it was her fault, no matter what anyone else had done. With tears in her eyes, she said, “They call me the problem. But I’m actually the solution.”

At some point, all of us need to learn what my young friend is learning: not to believe everything we’re told about ourselves.

Most of us don’t have to think hard to remember a negative label someone -- parent, teacher, coach, friend -- has given us.

Lazy. Dumb. Procrastinator. Selfish. Uncooperative. Class Clown. Troublemaker. Rebellious. Delinquent. Unwanted. Loner. Loser. Nervous. Shy.

Any of us have probably acted in all of these ways at one time or another, but that doesn’t mean we will be that way forever. If someone else has been so ungracious as to call us that, we mustn't let their words define the way we choose to act now.

Some of us have also been given “positive” labels.

Smart. Pretty. Outgoing. Athlete. Good Worker. Artist. Funny. Energetic.

These labels seem nicer than the ones in the first list, but they can put unwanted pressure on us. They leave some of us feeling we must always be smart, outgoing, pretty or athletic, in order to be worthy of the title... or worthy at all.

The truth is, each of us is an assortment of desirable and not-so-desirable traits. None of us behaves in any particular way all of the time. When we accept that, we give ourselves – and others – room to grow, and we can become the unique and diverse people God planned for us to be.

“Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you. Before you were born, I set you apart."
-- From God to the Prophet Jeremiah.

The Impact of Inscribe Christian Writers' Fellowship

2011-08-12T23:44:00.000-07:00

In the summer of 2000, I received the Fall Conference brochure from Inscribe Christian Writers Fellowship. I looked longingly at it, for I’d been receiving it for several years, but had never been able to go. That summer, I felt the Lord was not only saying, "You may go," but "You must go.”

Phil Callaway, Linda Hall, and Janette Oke were the speakers that year. They were inspiring and challenging, and, 11 years later, I still remember much of what they said. But the weekend's greatest impact came after the conference, when I went for a walk with fellow conference-attenders, Jessie and Janet. They knew each other well, but I’d met them both that weekend.

As we walked, I chattered on about my life, and Jessie and Janet were polite listeners. I told them I’d been teaching Kindergarten in public school and writing Sunday School curriculum for my church. The church writing job was over, and I felt the Lord was directing me to do more writing, but I didn’t know what.

As I talked, it seemed Jessie gave Janet a “significant look”, but I thought she could just have turned her face to the side to catch her breath in that afternoon’s ferocious wind.

Then Jessie started talking. She’d written Sunday School curriculum several years before, she said, and had recently been asked by the same company to write on a new curriculum project. She’d told them “yes”, with two conditions: 1) she wanted to write for the Kindergarten to Grade One level. 2) she wanted to work with and mentor a younger writer.

Ah. It wasn’t my imagination that Jessie had been giving her friend significant looks. I’d taught the age level she wanted to write for. I had experience writing Sunday School curriculum. And I was looking for writing opportunities. Her prayers were being answered right before her eyes.

Jessie immediately invited me to join her in writing a sample try-out unit. She was excited, and I was pleased, but I was determined not to get my hopes up. I told myself, “Nothing will come of it.”

I’m very thankful I was wrong. Jessie and I wrote the sample unit and were hired to write for the project, with one small twist: Jessie decided I could write on my own. (A few years later, as we told someone else our story, she said, “It was a God-thing. Laureen didn’t need a mentor.” It seemed God had orchestrated it all just to bring me into the project.)

Over the next six years, I wrote eleven units of curriculum for that company. It was satisfying and challenging, frustrating and joy-giving. It taught me a lot, and, of course, made me a published author. And it all started by attending Inscribe’s Fall Conference.

This fall, I’ll attend the Fall Conference for the 12^th year in a row. Not every experience has been as dramatic as the first one, but each conference has provided just the impact I needed at the time: A kick-in-the-pants to make time to write when I was letting the rest of life crowd it out. Encouragement to persevere when I felt discouraged and wanted to give up. Instruction, information, and direction from those who were further along the path. And, always, the fellowship of other writers who are working hard to use their gifts for God’s glory...just as I am.

I Am Nujood, Age 10 and Divorced

2011-07-30T19:40:00.000-07:00

I Am Nujood, Age 10 and Divorced is the easy-to-read memoir of a remarkable little Yemeni girl, Nujood Ali, who was both married and divorced before she was 11 years old.

10-year-old Nujood had just started her second year of school when her father announced he’d accepted an acquaintance’s request to marry her.

“One less mouth to feed,” Nujood heard her father tell her mother. Besides, the 30-year-old husband had promised “not to touch” Nujood until she was older.

Yemen’s vague child-marriage laws permitted the marriage and their religion seemed to encourage it. Two weeks later, the men of both families got together and signed the papers.

Immediately, Nujood's husband broke his promise “not to touch” her, and he beat her every night to make her comply. She cried to his family for help, but her mother-in-law only told her son to beat Nujood harder.

The story might stay there – as it does for many child brides around the world.
But Nujood is no ordinary little girl. How she fought for – and won -- a divorce is astonishing and inspiring.

I Am Nujood, Age 10 and Divorced will open your eyes to the prevalence and horror of child marriages in so many parts of the world, but it will do more than that.

The courage of this one little girl, and the kindness and conviction of the adults who helped her, will also give you hope: when we perform simple acts of bravery and kindness for those who are vulnerable, we truly can change our world.

By Nujood Ali with Delphine Minoui, published by Three Rivers Press, New York.

-- Reenie

The Principal's Award

2011-07-26T23:37:00.000-07:00

My little friend, Todd, has autism. He’s overcome many autism-related challenges, but following directions and doing what an adult tells him to do are still very hard. And since school life consists chiefly of those two things, school has been a tough place for Todd.

From Kindergarten to Grade Four, Todd fought school every single day. He fought getting ready, getting into the van to ride to school, getting out of the van, and walking into class.

And every morning, as his parents got him into class and drove away to work, they wondered if they’d get another phone call from the school, telling them their son’s behaviour was once again out of control, and they had to come and pick him up now.

Teachers and support staff worked hard to help Todd, but it got worse, never better.

A year ago, when Todd finished elementary school, his parents feared middle school would be an even greater disaster.

As the school year began, their fears seemed justified. Todd resumed his daily going-to-school battles with intensity.

But his parents noticed that this school did things a little differently.

First of all, they narrowed their objectives for Todd to one – that he would enjoy school.

They also asked for, and listened to, Todd’s parents’ perspective on his challenges.

His parents noticed that this school treated kids with special needs like part of the student body, rather than an addition to it.

Over time, they saw the school staff try out lots of different strategies to help Todd, but if an idea didn’t work, they’d try something different. They didn’t give up.

They were grateful for the school’s approach – and amazed when Todd began to respond differently.

His going-to-school battles became less frequent and less intense. They received fewer calls from the school, telling them to pick him up early. Remarkably, Todd began to tell happy stories about school.

His parents and teachers had achieved their impossible goal. Todd liked school!

Fast forward eight months. In May, Todd’s parents were thrilled when his teacher gave Todd the monthly Grade 5 classroom award. She told how Todd would get up in class and dance, encouraging his classmates to dance with him. She spoke of the joy Todd gave to her and his classmates and expressed her gratitude that he was in her class.

Todd – giving joy to his classmates? Todd – a delight to his teacher? It seemed too good to be true.

Then, in June, at a school-wide award ceremony, Todd received an even greater honor -- The Principal’s Award – for making the greatest improvement in school.

It was like the fulfillment of a dream – a dream they hadn’t dared to imagine.

When I asked Todd what he’d done to earn the Principal’s Award, he said, “I had to wait in line.” His tone emphasized that this is hard work! When I pressed him for more, he said only, “I think we’re good.”

In a strange way, it seems appropriate that Todd has no real idea why he won the Principal’s Award. I believe he’s not the one who did most of the work.

The school staff who honoured Todd with the award should have been the ones to receive it. He only reaped the benefits of their commitment and determination, while they gave him the credit.

Since the beginning of time, that's what teachers have been doing.

Thank you, teachers!

-- Reenie

Let All The Children Come

2011-07-19T21:14:00.000-07:00

If you’re a teacher or ministry leader who wants to include children with special needs without radically changing the program for everybody else, Let All the Children Come To Me: A Practical Guide to Including Children with Disabilities in Your Church Ministries is for you.

I was drawn by the book’s title and then hooked by the preface -- a retelling of each author’s personal connection to a child with special needs.

What brought me to devour the entire book, refer to it frequently and recommend it often, is that it’s quick-to-read, easy-to-follow, and loaded with practical information.

Each of the authors -- MaLesa Breeding, Dana Hood and Jerry Whitworth – is a specialist in the field, and could have written an important (but perhaps boring) reference book on the subject. Instead, their book presents inclusion in a way we can all understand, motivates us to work toward that goal, and gives us practical tools and strategies to accomplish it.

The authors are clear about their conviction that every child can learn, so it’s our duty to teach them. At the same time, they emphasize that “good teaching is good for everyone”. The best inclusion is inclusion that meets everyone’s learning needs.

The book’s tools include lists of strategies for encouraging positive behaviour, a chart of the strengths and learning styles of multiple intelligences (ways of being smart), and descriptions of the challenges faced by students with specific types of disabilities. There are many, many more – all as useful when teaching typically-developing children as when teaching children with special needs.

I strongly recommend this book, but with one small “disclaimer”. In contrast with the book’s overall tone of warmth and acceptance, there are a few places in which the authors use language that makes me wince.

For instance, in Jerry’s retelling of a Bible story (p.21), he describes leprosy as a “dreaded, ugly and usually contagious disease” and a “disgusting affliction”. We now know leprosy is not highly-contagious, and, more than that, I think he could have used words that are more appropriate than “disgusting” and “ugly”.

On another occasion, MaLesa says of a young lady with cerebral palsy, “Looking at Sarah is almost painful.” Here, too, she could have used more sensitive language.

These isolated, regrettable word choices contrast with the book’s prevailing message that every child is precious and we must allow “all the children to come” to a life of faith. One of my favorite passages says “The first duty of (the teacher of the child with special needs) is to look at her as a whole and complete child of God...She has as much to offer us as we have to offer her.”

With that, I wholeheartedly agree.
-- Reenie

(Let All the Children Come to Me: A Practical Guide to Including Children with Disabilities in Your Church Ministries; MaLesa Breeding, Dana Hood and Jerry Whitworth; NexGen, Cook Communications Ministries, Paris, Ontario, 2006)

2011-06-05T00:58:00.000-07:00

Ten Summer Tree

For the past ten years,

I’ve watched a slim young tree pass through the seasons

on the other side of my kitchen window.

It shades my house in summer,

drops yellow leaves in fall,

and stands silent through long Alberta winters.

When the world opens its eyes in spring,

my tree wakes up to produce tiny green buds.

Its neighbors quickly move into full-leafed glory,

but my tree gets stuck in the tiny-bud stage.

During the tree’s first few springs, I concluded, at this point, that the tree had died.

But, just when I’d given up,

the miniature buds would dramatically unfurl into a grand green canopy overnight.

This month... this week... today...

after a winter that was even longer than usual,

trees everywhere are waving leaves in celebration,

showing off pink and white and red blossoms,

and casting sweet, indefinable scents onto the air.

My tree has no blooms and casts no scents, sweet or otherwise.

Its bits of green are still tiny.

But, because of our years together,

I know my tree is growing and preparing.

It just doesn’t show off the work til it's complete.

As I wait for the morning when I’ll see the fruit of my tree’s hidden labor,

I feel my life is like my ten summer tree.

I’m in a year of professional limbo, accented by months of intriguing health issues.

It feels like winter –

all my leaves fell off months ago,

and I’m waiting, dormant, to see what life will bring out in spring.

I know my tree will soon explode into green for its tenth summer,

because I’ve seen it happen nine times before.

God has already guided and provided for me in many seasons,

so I trust Him to do it once again.

As long as my winter lasts,

through weeks of wondering and days of waiting,

I'll choose to trust Him.

I will trust that,

once again,

He'll show me a new path to take,

give me strength to do what needs to be done,

and use my life to offer good and beauty to the world.

-- Reenie

2011-05-28T22:44:00.000-07:00

Not Relationship Material?

People familiar with autism and Asperger Syndrome -- as well as those who aren't -- may enjoy a movie I watched recently.

The title character of Adam is a young man who lives alone in New York, and works as an electronic engineer.

A pretty young teacher-writer named Beth moves into Adam’s apartment building and begins to build a friendship with him -- at least, she wants to. Sometimes it seems he wants to be her friend, too. Most of the time, his actions make no sense.

When Adam tells her he has Asperger Syndrome, she tries to convince herself he’s “not relationship material”. Instead, when she researches AS, she understands a little better how she can relate to him.

And, as you’ve already guessed, Adam and Beth fall in love.

I enjoyed Adam’s sweet, surprising storyline.

Hugh Dancy does a convincing job of playing a man with AS – minimal eye contact, social awkwardness, a rigid adherence to rules and routines, and difficulty picking up social cues.

Beth, played by Rose Byrne, responds to Adam with compassion, along with a genuine desire for him to love her in return. Her gently persistent love for him is a comforting reminder that people who have AS can be deeply treasured by others, and can give care, encouragement and love in return.

I was encouraged by the movie’s messages that people who have AS can overcome social and emotional challenges, form mutually meaningful relationships, and make valued contributions through their work.

Adam will lovingly introduce many people to the challenges of living with Asperger Syndrome, although, unfortunately, some will then be falsely-confident they know everything there is to know about it.

I must also say that, as one expects from Hollywood, this movie doesn't support all of my relational values.

Nevertheless, Adam is worthwhile, heart-warming entertainment for anyone who applauds people who overcome every kind of challenge.
--Reenie

2011-05-13T21:23:00.000-07:00

The Truth Will Out

Four-and-a-half weeks ago,

when a mild headache suddenly exploded into head-clawing pain,

I called 911,

and earned an ambulance trip to the hospital.

It was the third time in my life,

all in less than a week,

that I’d experienced that kind of pain.

Calling 911 on myself,

and the ambulance ride --

those were brand new.

Both the male and female paramedics seemed competent,

and, as far as I could tell, they did all the “right things”.

But of all the medical professionals I’ve encountered in past weeks,

they weren’t exactly the kindest.

They were somewhat brusque,

dismissive of my pain and fear,

and surprisingly oblivious to the comfort it would have been to have a loved one near.

As we rocketed over bumps and potholes,
I lay writhing on that narrow bed
gripping the bedside as tightly as possible with my IV hand.
The first medications they administered did nothing to relieve the pain.

My eyes covered due to extreme light sensitivity,

I could see nothing but darkness.

When we’d started our trip,

I’d called out,

“Is anyone back here with me?”

The male medic told me he was,

but even with the assurance of his presence,

I felt alone and terrified.

A few moments later,

after carefully considering it,

I asked the medic if he would hold my hand.

He responded with some surprise,

“You want me to hold your hand?”

To his credit,

he took two of my fingers –

the only ones not occupied with IV and monitor and clutching the bed --

and grasped them in his glove-tipped ones.

Only for a second, though,

for he soon excused himself.

“I’m just trying to get some paperwork done.”

So I released my reluctant comforter to do his paperwork.

In due time,

he finished his paperwork,

his driving-partner delivered us safely to the hospital,

and they handed me over to the care of Emergency Room staff.

Days later,

when I was safe at home, recovering,

the memory of the hand-holding incident floated up to me.

I’d been in so much pain.

so distraught,

so desperate for comfort!

The memory of the paramedics' dismissive tone makes me ask myself:

how many times have I,

as I teacher,

dismissed a child's emotional needs

because I had to "get paperwork done"?

Now that I’ve returned to the classroom,

that question is with me every day.

At the same time,

the memory of that night brings laughter,

for it hints at something I thought was long-hidden:

Regardless of my claims that I’m an independent, single woman,

despite the fervency of my assurances
that I’m delightedly content with my single state --

I’ll go to extreme measures to have a man hold my hand. :)

-- Reenie

2011-05-09T22:47:00.000-07:00

Words from the Wise

My friend, J, celebrated her 65th birthday last week.

The first 65 years of her life have included living with a spouse who had a long-undiagnosed mental health issue, and who then had a massive stroke that left him with severe disabilities and needing consant care.

About her husband's stroke, J said, "Someone said to me, 'What a tragedy,' but I said to her, 'I prefer to call it a challenge, rather than a tragedy. A tragedy looks back, but a challenge looks forward.' "

Then my brave friend mused, "When I look back, I think the most valuable things in my life were the hard times. Those were the things that enabled me to relate and bring comfort to other people when they're going through their own hard times."

Wise words from a courageous woman. I hope I can speak so boldly when I turn 65.

-- Reenie

2011-05-01T00:50:00.000-07:00

Invisible Mothers
A week from today,
     we’ll send sweet cards,
     make long-distance phone calls
     and buy bunches and bunches of flowers.

Many mothers will be honoured and praised and cheered.
They deserve every bit of that, and a whole lot more.

But there are women among us,
     also mothers,
     who won’t receive cards,
     flowers,
     or phone calls.

These women won’t receive praise or honor.
No one will rise and call them blessed.
They're invisible.

They are women who used to be mothers,
     but lost children -- to death, to marital break-up, to estrangement, to abduction.

They are women who gave their hearts and lives to raising children,
     but received only pain in return.

They are women who tried to become mothers,
     but were stymied by infertility, miscarriage, or failed adoption....or all three.

They are women who gave birth before they were ready to be mothers...
     and placed their children for adoption,
     so their child could have a mother...
     and another woman could have a child.

They are women who were unexpectedly pregnant and chose to abort their babies...
     and have carried guilt and sorrow every day since.

They are women who dreamed, expected, and longed to be married and have children,
     but for whom God had other plans.

They are women who quietly, lovingly, sacrificially mother other people’s children...
     and are called aunt,
     big sister,
     teacher,
     caregiver,
     and friend
     but never ever “Mother”.

They are women all around us.

     We see them every day.
     We admire them.
     We laugh with them.
     We benefit from what they do.

But, somehow, on Mother’s Day,
     they slide into the shadows.

They are Invisible Mothers.

This Mother’s Day,
     let's pray God opens our eyes
     to see the longings, sorrows and sacrifices
     of all the mothers...
     even those who are invisible.

-- Reenie

2011-04-29T21:28:00.000-07:00

I Don't Want to Forget

I’ve learned some fresh lessons over the past weeks of illness.

I’ve gained a clearer understanding

of how isolating and emotionally debilitating chronic pain is,

and have a new heart-deep empathy for my friends

who deal with invisible pain every day.

My eyes have been opened

to the speed with which sickness or injury

can squeeze a busy, independent, productive, out-going life

into an existence of uncertainty, frailty and fear.

I’ve been jolted alert to the reality

that much of what I usually consider essential-to-my-schedule

is so very, very non-essential.

And I've learned that rest is essential...

as well as wonderful.

I’ve learned that

the presence of God with me is real,

even, or perhaps especially,

when I'm too confused to think anything except,

“Lord, have mercy.

Lord, have mercy.”

I’ve realized over and over again

– as my friends and family members "dropped everything" to take care of me

--that those who say they love me,

really truly do.

And that I have friends with whom I can entrust my life.

Today,

three weeks since my illness began,

I'm cautiously hopeful that I’m starting to get better.

I believe I am getting better.

I fervently pray,

along with those who've prayed so fervently for me...

that I'll soon be completely, fully well.

When I'm well once again,

when I'm strong,

when I'm productive,

and when the calendar events press in once again...

I'll celebrate my new gratitude for the simple gift of life.

And when I'm well,

when I'm celebrating life...

I pray I remember the lessons I learned in the darkness.

-- Reenie

2011-04-15T22:11:00.000-07:00

Small Things Stack Up

I've been dealing with a significant health challenge lately.
In my recent crises, I've noticed that it's small things that make a big difference...
...the quick ride a friend gave me to Urgent Care
...the quiet voices of medical staff who knew my pain was sound sensitive
...the warmth of heated blankets
...the patience of a friend who wandered around the pharmacy, waiting for my prescription
...the concern of friends and family members who called, texted, emailed...and prayed
...the kindness of a neighbor and a friend who offered to do any errand I asked

Then a few days later....
...the thoughtfulness of my brother who met me before I left in the ambulance, although he couldn't "do" anything (he didn't know that being there for a few minutes was "doing" a lot)
...the persistence of the ER staff who repeatedly checked in on me, giving me medication after medication... after medication
...the patience of my sister-in-law, who sacrificed hours of sleep to watch me vomit, wait while I sat in a doped-out sleep... and then drive me home through a snowstorm
...the text from my young nephew who urged me to get better soon
...and his brother, who brushed the snowstorm off my car

And again...
...the kindness of loved ones who text, call, email
...the tenderness of friends who laugh when I laugh, listen when I cry, and put into words the terror I feel
...the faithfulness of those who pray for me
...the concern of those who take tasks off my shoulders and hoist them onto their own

Most of these (except my sister-in-law's loss of sleep) might be considered "little things".
Most don't require a big change in one's To Do List,
or a rearrangement of the day,
but these little things have made a big difference for me.

I'm so grateful for all these little things that shape my world into a comforting place.
Thank You, God, for filling my world with people who are willing to do these little things for me!

This isn't my poem, but it seems the long-forgotten author understood what I'm saying.
-- Reenie

The Little Things

Oh it's just the little homely things
The unobtrusive, friendly things
The won't -you-let-me-help-you things
That make our pathway light

And it's just the jolly, joking things
The never-mind-the-trouble things
The laugh-with-me-it's-funny things
That make the world seem bright.

For all the countless famous things
The wondrous record-making things
Those never-can-be-equaled things
That all the papers cite.

Aren't like the little human things
The everyday-encountered things
The just-because-I-like-you things
Make us happy quite.

So here's to all the little things
The done-and-then-forgotten thing
Those Oh,-it's-simply-nothing things
That make the life worth the fight.
-- Author unknown

2011-03-29T20:36:00.000-07:00

Have You a Heart That’s Weary?

Have you a heart that's weary,

Tending a load of care?

Are you a soul that's seeking

Rest from the burden you bear?

Do you know, do you know, my Jesus?

Do you know, do you know, my friend?

Have you heard, have you heard, He loves you?

And that He’ll walk with you to the end?

Who knows your disappointments?

Who hears each time you cry?

Who understands your heartaches?

Who dries the tears from your eyes?

Do you know, do you know, my Jesus?

Do you know, do you know, my friend?

Have you heard, have you heard, He loves you?

And that He’ll walk with you to the end?

Words and Music by: Vep B. Ellia and William F. Lakey

From my weary heart to yours --

Reenie

2011-03-19T23:43:00.000-07:00

Small, Dark and Handsome

16 years ago this spring,

I met a dark-haired, dark-eyed, terribly-handsome man,

and I loved him the moment I met him.

In those days, he was even shorter than I am,

and, I admit, quite immature,

but, in time, he overcame those challenges.

Now he towers over me by more-inches-than-I’ll-admit,

and is even more handsome than the day we met.

This special young man is my nephew,

my first and oldest,

and he was a thrice-given gift.

First, God gave him to his birthmother,

who realized that, as a single mom,

she couldn’t raise him as well as she’d want.

So, with a unique blend of love and heartache,

she gave him a second time...

by placing him for adoption with my brother and sister-in-law.

And, generously, on an ongoing basis,

my brother and sister-in-law give their son a third time...

by sharing him with me.

Four years after my oldest nephew,

another small, dark, handsome man joined our family.

He too was thrice-given --

by God, by his birthmom, and by his parents.

I am now the proud auntie of two handsome boys.

I lived for decades before they came to me,

but now I wonder how I could have felt life was complete without them.

My boys and I don’t share the same genetic history,

we have different racial backgrounds,

and my name is not on their birth certificates.

But I am their auntie,

and they are my boys.

I don’t do the hard work of training them,

feeding them,

or making sure their closets contain

pants long enough to cover their ever-growing legs.

But they are my boys.

They are not flesh-of-my-flesh

nor bone-of-my-bone...

but, irrevocably,

for good and for always,

no matter what,

they are my boys.

Nothing,

absolutely nothing,

will ever change that.

Every day,

I thank God for giving them.

Every day,

I’m grateful to my brother and sister-in-law for sharing them.

Today, I also want to say,

”Thank you, birthmoms.”

You made a choice.

For your sons' sake, you made a sacrifice.

Did you also know what a precious gift you were giving to us?

Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Thank you for giving me my boys.

To learn more about adoption,

and attend an upcoming seminar
presented by Steven Curtis Chapman
and Focus on the Family,
please see http://www.endthewait.ca/tour/

-- Reenie

2011-03-13T20:58:00.000-07:00

Step to The Front of the Line

We who are in Christian faith communities believe every human being is precious in God’s eyes because He made us in His image.

We believe our worth will never be diminished, no matter what other factors come and go.

We believe that people with disabilities and other challenges are as valuable to God as those of us whose challenges are less visible.

We nod fervently when we read that the Bible says God chooses to use people who are weak, for His glory. (1 Corinthians 12)

From early childhood, we’re taught to sing,

“Jesus loves me, this I know,

For the Bible tells me so.

Little ones to Him belong.

They are weak but He is strong.

Yes, Jesus loves me....”

We cheerfully quote what Jesus said:

“Whatever you’ve done for the least of these, you’ve done for Me.”(Matthew 24)

So why...I ask you...Why-oh-why-oh-why do we so often not act that way?

Within my lifetime,

I've been delighted to see enormous improvements in how communities

accept and welcome people with all kinds of visible challenges.

I could give you a long list of agencies within my own city,

government-funded and otherwise,

who energetically,

passionately

work for the inclusion and benefit of people with disabilities.

I can’t tell you how deeply grateful I am for these agencies’ work.

What a difference they make for people with special needs

and for those who love them!

But it grieves my heart just as much

that there are still so few churches

who actively welcome people with disabilities.

We, who by the most basic statements of our faith,

declare that we value those who are weak,

often act like they have no worth at all.

We ought to be at the front of the line,

leading the way,

raising the bar,

setting the example.

What twists a knife in my gut is that,

instead,

we’re usually at the back.

And, oh --

we’re not just compliantly following along as someone else shows the way.

We’re often as-far-back-as-we-can-be,

dragged along with our heels dug in as-deep-as-we-can-dig-‘em.

Some of us even have even thumped ourselves down on the path,

refusing to move at all,

and making every effort to slow down anyone else who might like to move forward.

At my city’s local amusement park,

large and threatening signs prohibit queue-jumping.

Fortunately,

thankfully,

the Church is in a different kind of line.

In this line, we’re invited,

encouraged,

even urged,

to march up to the front of the line.

Yes, we have been late to do this,

but the good news is that it’s not too late.

So.

Let’s stand up for what we say we believe,

ask God to help us fix the attitudes we need to fix,

and pull our heels out of the sand.

Let’s march right up to the front of the line

and start leading the way.
-- Reenie

2011-03-07T21:34:00.000-08:00

He Knows Her Name

Speak up for those who cannot speak themselves,
for the rights of all who are destitute.
Speak up and judge fairly;
defend the rights of the poor and needy.

This weekend, I was privileged to see the world premiere of “She Has a Name”, a play about human trafficking.

A teenage girl, known only as “18”, has been trafficked from her home in Cambodia and now works in a Bangkok brothel. When an international justice agency plans to bring a court case against traffickers and pimps, “18” is the only girl willing to talk, so she becomes their key witness. Her world is ruled by greed, ignorance, and fear, but I dared to hope we’d find out who “18” really was. I wanted to learn her name.

The night I saw the play was its second last in Calgary, before moving on to Red Deer, Alberta for several nights. After that, hopefully, it'll tour numerous North American cities. I hope many people will buy tickets, go to see it, and feel their hearts gripped by its message.

I must, however, issue this caution: She Has a Name is not for everyone. For many viewers, the play’s frank language and explicit scenes would be repulsive.

No, She Has a Name is not for everyone, but its message definitely is.

We who live in sheltered societies need to understand the pain people experience when their lives are dominated by poverty, desperation, greed, hunger, slavery.

We need to be aware. We need to act. We may be called to actions large or small, but I believe we all need to act in some way. (The websites listed below will offer suggestions.)

Every girl, woman, boy and man, every human being, who is sold and traded like nothing more than a money-making machine, has a name. The people who “buy” them don’t care about their names. Those who pay for their services don’t know their names. Perhaps it’s been so long that the victims themselves have forgotten their names.

But there is a God Who planned them and made them and loves them.

He knows their names.

And He calls those of us who are called by His Name to work to bring justice to those whose names no one else remembers...to give hope to people whose names He can never forget.

Speak up for those who cannot speak themselves,
for the rights of all who are destitute.
Speak up and judge fairly;
defend the rights of the poor and needy.

http://www.raisetheirvoice.com/
http://www.actalberta.org/
http://www.embracedignity.org/
http://www.wcacentre.org/
http://www.ijm.ca/

-- Reenie

2011-02-27T21:37:00.000-08:00

#10 – The Best Thing that Happens (I Get it Now!)

We who are followers of Jesus make it our highest aim to please Him in all we do.

Therefore, we pay close attention to the things He told us
about what brings joy to Him.

We've all heard that Jesus said,
“Whatever you’ve done for the least of these, you’ve done for Me.”

And we know that by “least of these”,
He was referring to people who are sick, hungry, poor and in prison
-- people on the fringes of society.

So, bottom-line, those of us who truly want to please Jesus
must make it a priority to care for people
who are weak,
hungry,
imprisoned
or poor,
or have illnesses
or disabilities.

For He told us that when we do,
we welcome Him... and we give Him joy.

On the surface,
this principle is much easier to understand than many other things Jesus said.
"Do this... and you can automatically check this off your list as well."

Seems simple.

But I confess that, despite the apparent simplicity,
I never really "got" this
until my youngest niece,
The Princess,
was diagnosed with cerebral palsy,
and I saw, with brand new eyes, the public's reaction to people with disabilities.

It goes without saying...
The Princess occupies a rather prominent place in my heart.

I love her so much that
she's impacted my heart,my work, my relationships, my goals, my life
more deeply than any other single individual
... and that's saying a great deal.

So...
when someone makes disparaging remarks
about people with intellectual or physical disabilities,
it feels like they're making demeaning comments about The Princess herself.

They'd never dare to demean my niece in my presence,
but their actions and attitudes toward others with disabilities
tell me exactly how they'd respond to the little girl I love so much.

And when they display harsh or dismissive attitudes toward the little girl I love
...they might as well express the same kind of attitude toward me.

At the same time,
my heart is naturally drawn to those who value people with disabilities.
If people love others with severe disabilities,
they'd also love and accept The Princess
... and that also feels like they'd love and accept me.

It all feels very personal.

So I get it now when Jesus says,
"Whatever you do for the least of these, you do for Me."

He loves each of us intensely,
with an everlasting love.

And He has an especially soft heart for those whose lives are hard,
who live on society's edge.

In fact, Jesus loves them so much that,
when we accept or reject them,
He takes it personally.

Whatever we do for the "least of these",
we do for Him.

Despite my slowness to grasp it,
it really is that simple.

So... let's welcome them.

Let's accept them.

Let's love them.

For when we do,

we welcome,

and love Him.

And we give Him joy!

--Reenie

2011-02-26T00:23:00.000-08:00

A Month of Life

I missed my first day of work on February 1. This is February 26, and I’m not well yet. I missed four days of “official” work, two full days of unpaid writing, and several partial days. Even when I’ve been back at work, I haven’t felt like myself.

Earlier this week, a local librarian heard me cough and suggested strongly that I should be home in bed. She wasn’t convinced by my assurance that I’d done my time in bed...and this was much better!

As of today, I see big-time progress. I’m still easily tired, but I only coughed a few times today. Woo hoo! I’m nearly well!

In the meantime, I’ve missed a month of my life.

As I'm sure you've figured out, one can do a lot of things with a month. A few summers ago, for instance, I spent an entire month in Thailand. Trust me on this: a month-long holiday in Thailand is better than a month of sickness.

I’ve been inclined to feel just a little bit sorry for myself. Okay, I'll admit it -- more than just a little.

My pity parties last about two minutes -- when I’m brought up short by the reminder that many people are sick for months...even years. They don’t simply miss out on a month of To Do lists before bouncing back to the usual work or school scene.

These people have to give up their entire “usual scene”, because their illness has no known ending. Or because the treatments required to save them from it, make them too sick to be out in public. Some of them wonder if they'll ever have a To Do list again.

I’d never dare to pretend that, after a mere month-of-slowdown, I can understand what it’s like to have a chronic illness.

But I do want to say this...

Hats off to you who are sick, week after week, month after month, year after year. May God give you courage and strength.

Hats off to you who get horribly sick from your treatments... but keep going for treatments anyway.

Hats off to you who care for a loved one for year-in and year-out... but don’t allow yourself to get bitter about it.

Hats off to you who bear a life-long diagnosis with patience and dignity... and refuse to get mad at God.

My greatest hats off, and my deepest bows, go to you who bear chronic illnesses with no family or friends nearby. May you know the Friend you cannot see, but is always with you. May you know how much He cares about you. And may you know that He’s preparing a much grander life for you on the other side.

This life won’t last forever... but that one will! Now that's worth a WOO HOO!!

-- Reenie

2011-02-20T21:59:00.000-08:00

For This...

by Graham Kendrick, Make Way Music, 1994
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vvzUQw2UA1I

For the joys and for the sorrows,
The best and worst of times.
For this moment, for tomorrow,
And all that lies behind...

Fears that crowd around me,
For the failures of my plans,
For the dreams of all I hope to be,
The truth of what I am...

For the tears that flow in secret
In the broken times,
For the moments of elation
Or the troubled mind...

For this I have Jesus...
I have Jesus.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vvzUQw2UA1I

http://www.justsomelyrics.com/1207659/Graham-Kendrick-For-this-I-have-Jesus-Lyrics

-- Reenie

2011-02-19T23:31:00.000-08:00

#9 – Filling Up With Joy

We’ve all heard that it’s better to give than to receive.

In our day,

and our society,

when it’s become downright fashionable to give to those who are more needy than we are,

even those with the toughest hearts have experienced the joy of giving ourselves.

When we welcome people with challenges into the church,

we who are “strong” have a chance to experience the joy of serving.

Whether we're teachers,

caregivers,

coaches,

program leaders,

program developers,

buddies,

or simply friends...

Whether we help regularly

or once in awhile...

Whether we serve face-to-face,

or up front,

or in the background...

Whatever we do,

however we serve,

it brings us joy,

as long as we serve with an open and generous heart.

It’s even better,

however,

when people who have

physical,

cognitive

and mental health challenges

also get a chance to experience the joy of serving.

Why should serving be limited to those of us who think we’re “normal”?

Why do we always have to be on the giving end?

It’s not so bad for us to be receivers occasionally.

Each of us can find a place to serve,

a means to serve,

a unique way to make a difference for each other.

Let’s open our minds,

and our hearts,

to create opportunities for us all to be filled up with the joy of serving each other.

It’s still better to give than to receive.

Humbling ourselves to let others serve us is another way to give generously.

#10 – Next Up – Most important....!

2011-02-12T20:43:00.000-08:00

Auntie Valentine*

Tomorrow, I celebrate Valentine’s Day with two friends. That’s right – three of us.

Three isn’t traditionally considered the best number for this particular festival,

but in this case it’s just right.

We three single women are celebrating the friendship God’s given us.

As our host-friend said in an email, “It’ll be a low-key affair, but filled with all the love we have.” I’m grateful to tell you – that’s a lot of love.

I have the joy of being loved by many friends!

The other single women I know are as I am -- surrounded by loving friends, much-adored nieces and nephews, parents and other family members.

Our lives are rich, full-to-overflowing.

Most of us are a lot freer than married people.

No one expects supper when we’re not hungry,

no one wakes us with his snoring,

no one waits for us to come home.

We come and go,

eat and sleep,

talk... or don’t talk.

As we please.

We also have freedom to give back in ways married people don’t.

Married folks’ energy is primarily focused on those at home, as is right.

Most single people can give more broadly.

For us and the world around us... Tis a gift to be single!

But for all of its wonderfulness,

singleness is a gift none of us wants.

I promise you:

none of my dozen-or-so single friends prayed she’d be unmarried
in her 30’s,
40’s
or 50’s.

None.

Being a single woman is like giving God a one-item wish list every Christmas.

Marriage, it says.

That’s all.

And we hope-upon-hope He’ll decide,

this year,

to put that oh-so-elusive gift under the tree for us.

But, every year,

the same awkwardly-wrapped, knobbly-shaped gift is placed into our hands.

Yet again,

we unwrap the unwanted gift of singleness,
biting back tears,

trying to hide our disappointment.

Then, throughout the year,

we're required to carry that awkward and weighty gift.

We shift it from arm to arm,

shoulder to shoulder,

wishing we could put it down somewhere.

Anywhere!

But to have and to hold, for better, for worse....

the gift is ours.

Everyone we meet can see that we were chosen to receive the gift we didn’t want.

Virtual strangers wonder aloud why we have it.

Friends and family hint at strategies to get rid of it.

Certain groups even exclude us because we’re carrying it.

As the year progresses, we see more and more of the ways it’s a gift,

but it’s still lumpy and awkward, heavy and unusual.

We still don’t want it.

So, when Christmas rolls around again,

we,

tentatively,

hopefully,

put that other gift on our list just one more time.

Marriage.

Please, God?

Maybe this year?

Please?!

We wait for that day and peek under the tree in vain...

and, when the big day comes,

we’re handed the all-too-familiar knobbly-shaped package once again.

As we wearily unwrap it,

we see our unasked-for gift has come with redesigned accessories...

a brand new set of sorrows and delights

that weren't attached to it last year.

We’d give away the delights so that we could get rid of those sorrows,

but it is not for us to choose.

Reluctantly, we pick up our beautiful and ungainly gift

and begin to carry it for yet another year.

-- Reenie

*Thanks to my friend I.S. for today’s title.

2011-02-03T11:21:00.000-08:00

#7 & 8 – We Give the World a Truer Picture of the Church
and We Give the World a True Picture of our Lord

It won’t surprise you to hear that
today’s media typically colors the Church in harsh, dark colors.

We’re often painted as judgemental,
unjust,
unkind
and
unsafe.

But when churches welcome people with special needs
(and a myriad of other challenges),
people realize that the media’s stereotype is a false one.

When they watch us
diligently,
deliberately
accept children, teens, and adults,
regardless of the challenges they face,
and regardless of the challenges they bring to us,
they see what the Church truly is –
a welcoming place.

They see that the Church is an all-encompassing,
differences-can’t-separate-us kind of place.

When individuals’ lives are touched,
and they see people’s lives changed
because people in the Church have cared,
all the negative stereotypes in the world
can’t refute their experience.

More important,
when we welcome people who have challenges
(which means all of us),
we show the world what our Lord Jesus,
Whom we believe in and love,
is really like.

We show everyone that Jesus
is still the gracious Teacher, Healer and Friend
in the New Testament Bible stories.

We show them
that He is truly accepting,
loving
and forgiving.

We show the whole world that Jesus
really does welcome everyone into His Family,
that He does have a special place in His heart for those who are weak,
sick,
poor,
living on the fringes.

And we show them that He’s real.

We don’t have to shout from the rooftops.
We don’t have to rent flashing billboards.
We just have to do what Jesus told us to do.

We need to take care of those who are sometimes considered unimportant,
but whom the Bible calls “indispensable”.
(2 Corinthians 12: 22,23)

We need to widen the door,
save a seat,
set a place at the table,
and reach out a hand in friendship.

It’s not always easy,
but it is that simple.
-- Reenie

Next up -- "Filling Up With Joy"

2011-01-31T21:52:00.000-08:00

When Hope Hurts

It shouldn’t be true, but it is.

Sometimes it hurts to hope.

When you’re a mom

who’s tried every seizure-stopping medication known to mankind,

but seizures still attack your son several times a day...

Hope hurts.

When you’re wannabe-parents

who’ve spent all your savings and half-a-dozen years

to overcome infertility,

but you’re still,

inexplicably,

very definitely

not pregnant...

Hope hurts.

When you’re the dad of a teenage daughter

who’s never walked or talked

and is nearing the end of her high-school years,

and you have no idea how you'll care for her....

much less how you’ll pay for it...

Hope hurts.

When, like so many of my friends,

you’re a single woman

who is lovely, intelligent and downright-fun,

and you can’t figure out why God doesn’t say “yes”

to your repeated prayers for marriage and a family...

Then, too, hope hurts.

Oh, it hurts.

And sometimes

when hope hurts so deeply,

it seems safer not to hope at all.

Safer not to think about what could be ahead.

Safer not to hope,

not to plan,

and certainly not to expect...

that things could change.

It's definitely safer not to hope that things could get better.

But as many of us have learned

to our sorrow,

hopelessness has consequences, too.

It makes our hearts hard.

It makes us not-so-fun to be around.

And it takes away any good we might be to others

who come to us hoping that we'll give them hope.

I don’t know why God allows some of us to hurt so much.

I don’t know why He doesn’t promise that,

if we just hang on,

and always do the right thing,

it will all get better.

And I wish I knew how to fix the hurt of hoping!

But there are some things I do know.

When hope hurts, we’re not alone.

God has promised to be with us.

And He keeps His promises.

When hope hurts, someone understands how we feel.

When Jesus came to earth,

He experienced every emotion we feel...

So He understands.

When hope hurts, someone cares.

God doesn’t watch with disinterested objectivity,

As if we’re some kind of science experiment.

He cares about each of us.

He cares so much that He collects all our tears!

When hope hurts, someone hears when we cry.

When we cry out to God,

He never turns a deaf ear,

or closes the door to give Himself “a break” from our crying.

He always hears when we cry...

And He always listens.

When hope hurts, there’s always reason to hope.

We almost never understand it.

And it’s hardly ever easy.

But, somehow, in some way,

when we see the big picture,

God brings good out of our hard times.

He does,

and He will.

Even when it hurts to hope.

-- Reenie

2011-01-23T23:26:00.000-08:00

#6 – We practice what we preach

We who say we live by the Bible,
and call ourselves “Christ-followers”,
tend to make some claims that others call radical.

From the time we were little, we’ve sung,
“Jesus loves the little children, all the children of the world.”

So we say God loves everyone, regardless of race, language, gender, appearance or ability.

We quote Psalm 139, which says we’re so precious to God that He’s noted every little thing about us since before we were conceived.

So we say all of human life is valuable to God, and take a decidedly pro-life stance.

And we tell the story of Jesus welcoming the children,
even when His adult followers told the children to go away.

So we say everyone, no matter how small or weak, has the right (and the need) to know God personally.

God loves everyone.
Every person is precious to God.
Everyone has the right and need to know God personally.

We believe those things with all our hearts.

Or do we?

When we send a child home from every church program...
simply because she has Down syndrome, we’re saying,

“God might love everyone... but He loves those who are able-bodied and able-minded more.”

When we hear ourselves saying, over and over, that church guests who have disabilities should “try the big church down the street because they have a special program,” we’re saying,

“God might treasure everything about you... but we’re pretty sure we don’t.”

When we repeatedly watch a mother carry her teenaged child in a wheelchair up a long flight of church stairs,
and refuse her requests to build a ramp, we’re saying,

“Only people who are able-bodied have the right to know God personally.”

Sadly, these examples are recent and true.

We sometimes “say” these things through our actions, even while blithely voicing the opposite belief.

BUT!

When a children’s pastor says, “I don’t know much about children with special needs, but I’ll learn everything necessary to support and welcome your child...”

...we’re practicing what we preach.

Jesus does love all the children of the world!

When we spend hours training volunteer buddies to come alongside kids with autism so they can enjoy VBS along with their typically-developing peers....

...we’re practicing what we preach.

God treasures everything about you... and we want to know you, too!

When we say, “How can we help you get to church?” rather than “I don’t think we can make this work...”

...we’re practicing what we preach.

Everyone does have the right to know Jesus personally!

Am I getting a little personal here?
I hope I am.
Many of you see yourself in the second set of examples.
You know who you are.
You always think you’re not doing enough,
But the truth is, you’re already making an enormous difference.
May God give you grace to keep on practicing what you preach!

Some of you,
if you’re honest,
will see a bit of yourself in the first set of examples.
But the good news is that your past doesn't have to be your future.
I pray God will help you open your heart,
make small changes in your attitude
that bring about big changes in your actions....
And enable you, too,
To practice what you preach.

The really good news is that God does love us all,
He treasures every little thing about us,
and He wants us all to know Him personally.

That’s true even if we have disabilities
....and even when we don’t practice what we preach.

#7 – Next Up -- We give the world a truer picture of the Church

2010-10-06T23:41:00.000-07:00

#5 – Adults’ Eyes Open a Little Wider

We've already said that,

when children and youth who have special needs are welcomed into the church,

typically-developing peers learn that they have unconditional worth.

They learn that their worth has nothing to do with their beauty, their ability, their achievements or their potential.

Today,

my fellow grown-ups,

let’s open our eyes just a little wider and realize that the same is true of us.

Our worth doesn’t depend on any of those short-term things either.

Our worth doesn’t depend on our ability.

...not even on our potential ability.

Our worth doesn’t depend on our academic achievements

...nor on our beauty (as Hollywood defines it or otherwise!)

...nor on our athletic ability

...nor on our ability to make money

...nor on our careers’ status and progress (or lack thereof)

...nor on the size of our homes

...nor on the beauty, ability, achievements, athleticism, intelligence or potential of our children.

Our worth doesn’t even depend on how much others love us (and it’s not decreased when they don’t).

One thing that says

“You are precious and loved beyond measure”

is this:

God made us.

That’s pretty awesome in itself.

But that’s not all.

He made us in His own image. He made us to resemble His character.

That’s amazing.

As if that weren’t enough of an honor for us severely-limited human beings,

The God of the Universe wanted to be friends with us.

He made us with the purpose of having a relationship with Him.

We kind of messed that up,

with the fruit in the Garden of Eden and all,

but He didn’t give up wanting it.

So, incredibly, wonderfully,

He came up with a plan to fix it.

He sent His perfect Son to give His life,

To take the punishment for us

(for eating that apple and all the other things that came with it),

...so that we could be forgiven...

...and again have that intimate friendship with Him.

He loves us that much.

That’s even more amazing.

It’s true that our kids are loved and precious because God loves them.

We adults are loved and precious for the same reason.

We grown-ups,

who often carry the weight of the world on our shoulders,

and sometimes feel completely inadequate for all the burdens of life,

can know, too, that we’re loved that much.

And we learn it all just from loving a little child who has special needs.

Please let me say it one more time.

Now that’s amazing!

#6 – Next Up -- We practice what we preach.

2010-09-20T18:50:00.000-07:00

#4 – Siblings Get Their Own ID

An unfair teacher or a girlfriend-break-up or a failed exam

isn’t nearly as big as your sister having brain surgery

or wondering whether your little brother with autism will ever learn to talk.

So, when typically-developing kids have a sibling with special needs,

they often start to feel their “stuff” doesn’t matter.

Way too often,

they hold back from telling adults the things that are going on in their world.

But kids who are typically-developing have needs that must be met, too,

even if those needs aren’t “special needs”.

We have to let them know that they—and their needs—matter.

Lots of parents work hard at this,

and try to make sure all their kids feel loved.

This is another way the church can help.

When children with special needs are welcomed and cared for at church

their siblings are freer to participate in programs with their peers.

There, in a loving, life-affirming environment...

Typically-developing kids can be free to discover their own identity.

They become more than just the brother or sister of the kid who has tantrums

or the girl who uses crutches.

They can hear kids their age talk about normal issues...

the issues they themselves have been worrying about,

but haven't dared tell anyone.

They can talk about their own concerns

and receive love and attention from caring adults.

And there...

They can be taught biblical truths.

That God loves them.

He has a plan for them.

And God,

Maker and Manager of the Universe,

cares about them

and their “stuff”,

too.
-- Reenie

#5 -- Next Up -- Adults' eyes open a little wider

2010-09-05T23:18:00.000-07:00

What Other Kids Learn When We’re Not Talking -- #3

Typically, these days, children without special needs are referred to as, well, typically-developing.

And those typically-developing children learn, too, when we actively welcome children with special needs into our churches.

You’d be surprised at what they hear us say... especially when we’re sure we’re not saying anything.

When they see us accept and love children with special needs, typically-developing children hear loud-and-clear the strong, silent message that their worth and lovableness don’t depend on appearance, accomplishment or potential.

So they learn the lesson of stronger, more solid self-esteem.

When children with special needs are included in a group with typically-developing peers, the other kids have an opportunity to develop compassion and understanding.

So they learn lessons that lead to a deeper, kinder character.

When children with special needs are fully included with their peers, typically-developing children are able to provide some of the extra support they need.

So they learn flexibility and adaptation -- valuable social skills in our increasingly-diverse society.

When typically-developing kids become friends with children with special needs, the typically-developing peers realize that children with special needs can give, too.

So they learn humility, and acceptance of their own limitations.

And... I bet they learn a million other lessons, too.

So -- what lessons do you see typically-developing children learn when they welcome peers with special needs?

Wherever you live or work, I encourage you to watch for these lessons... then write and tell us.

How long a list can we come up with together?

#4 -- Next Up -- Siblings Get Their Own ID

2010-08-24T23:46:00.000-07:00

Not Exaggerating

I've recommended a million kinds of resources to a thousand different people, for a hundred-and-one reasons. I understand that everyone has different tastes and different needs. Not every book appeals to everyone.

So I carefully hold myself back from saying, "You've got to read this book."

Back in April, 2010, thousands of women attended Beth Moore's simulcast So Long, Insecurity (You've Been a Bad Friend to Us). I attended with several friends, and we found it a life-changing experience.

Well.

I'm now reading Beth's book by the same title, So Long, Insecurity, and I'm finding it even more life-changing.

So I'm writing to say....

Every woman has got to read this book.

Nearly every woman I know deals with insecurity to some degree, in some area or another. And it's a handicap to all of us.

Right?

In this book,

you'll hear Beth Moore ringing your bell,

singing your song, and,

maybe, even telling your story.

Directly and indirectly, in this book Beth tells the stories of women everywhere.

The good news is, the book doesn't stop at identifying our insecurity. It gives us the comfort of knowing we're not alone, that insecurity is common to the human condition, and....

It helps us overcome the insecurity-handicap and learn to live free!

So...

If you're a woman of any age,
and maybe if you're not... but you love a woman or a girl of any age...

I'm not exaggerating when I say...

You've got to read this book!

So Long, Insecurity (You've Been a Bad Friend to Us) by Beth Moore, published by Tyndale House. www.solonginsecurity.com.

After you read it, please write and tell me how it changed your life, too.

-- Reenie

2010-08-22T01:39:00.000-07:00

#2

Children Hear What We Need to Tell Them

When we in faith communities welcome children who have special needs, those children, too, get to be taught the principles of our faith.

We believe that all our children should be taught, so we must teach children with special needs, as well as kids who are typically-developing and healthy.

In Christian faith communities, that means children get to hear that God planned them, designed them, and made them with a purpose that is broader and greater than anything they’ll ever imagine.

They get to hear that God loves them so powerfully He longs to be their Best Friend.

Like other children, children with special needs will hear that their lives have value, that the struggles and obstacles they face are not the end.

They hear that, whatever challenges they walk through in this life, they’ll never be alone. Jesus will walk with them through everything, giving courage and strength to overcome each hurdle, and to live with joy each day.

And they hear that, despite all their challenges, despite their limitations and maybe even because of them, God can and will work through them to make a positive impact on their world.

Typically-developing children need to hear all of that.
Children with special needs need to hear it, too.

Let’s be intentional about welcoming them all... and let's tell them with all our might.

Next Up -- What Other Kids See When We're Not Showing Them

2010-08-12T19:10:00.000-07:00

10 Great Things

More and more churches are discovering that great things happen when they become intentional about welcoming people with special needs and other challenges.

This series describes some of those “great things”, focusing on what happens when churches welcome children with special needs.

#1 Parents Get a Break!

The greatest need for most parents of children with special needs is a break.

Specialized babysitters are not exactly plentiful, even when families can afford them after paying for medical bills, expensive therapies or costly equipment.

But when a child with a severe disability is loved and cared for at his church’s children’s programs, his parents get a physical break.

Welcoming children to church can also give parents a mental break. Every parent of a child with special needs is prepared to advocate for their child everywhere they go – school, hospital, swimming lessons, dancing classes, the neighborhood playground – yes, everywhere. Parents know their child will miss out if they don’t -- and sometimes even when they do.

But when the people in a church become intentional about welcoming children with special needs, the parents of those kids can heave a great sigh of relief...because there's one place where they don’t have to fight on behalf of their child.

Parents also receive an emotional break when a church welcomes their children. They get what every parent secretly wants: to know that someone else loves their child, too.

For married parents, a church’s care for their child can give them a relational break. We all know the divorce statistics: 50% of marriages end that way. But did you know that figure increases to 75% or more when the family includes a child with special needs? Something as simple as giving couples a few minutes’ free time to talk face-to-face or worship together can make the difference between relational survival and marital break-down.
-- Reenie

Next up... Children Hear What We Need to Tell Them

2010-08-02T18:05:00.000-07:00

If Feet Could Talk

“I’m not a caregiver.”

That’s what my cousin says when I jump onto my soap-box and talk about how the Church should welcome people with special needs.
My cousin can’t see himself as a Sunday School buddy to a child with autism. Actually, I can’t see it either.
But this cousin is my Go-To Guy in any computer crisis, and has been ever since I acquired my first computer 9 years ago. By taking care of my computer issues, he enables me to write to encourage you, and to develop curriculum and program materials for people with special needs.

In less than ten seconds, I think of a dozen people who take care of me and my stuff in other ways.
Recently, my Fix-it Brother** fixed my watch and my shredder.
My massage therapist regularly works on my neck and shoulders, relieving me of stiffness and pain.
And there’s a hundred others...

I hope you can quickly think of a bunch of people who help you, too.

One of my favourite Bible chapters compares our gifts and limitations to the parts of a human body.
“The body is not made up of one part but of many.
If the whole body were an eye, where would the sense of hearing be?
If the whole body were an ear, where would the sense of hearing be?
God has arranged the parts in the body just as he wanted them to be.
The eye cannot say to the hand, ‘I don’t need you!’
And the head cannot say to the feet, ‘I don’t need you!’” (1 Corinthians 12:14-21)

None of us is complete on our own, but we're complete when we serve each other.
How glad I am God figured that out before I did!

**Fix-it Brother describes his primary occupation. You can guess how my younger brother, Build-it Brother, makes his living. Truth be told, though – Fix-it Bro is mighty good at building, and Build-it Bro is very handy at fixing. I wish I had an ounce of the fixing or building skills either of them has in his baby finger. Which brings us full-circle...

2010-07-25T01:07:00.000-07:00

You First

The worlds of special education and medicine are an alphabet soup of labels.
Most of us are familiar with ADD / ADHD.
You’ve likely heard of MS, and maybe CP.
How about ASD, ALS and PDD?
And we all hope we never get “the big C”!
Labels tell us what a person’s needs are, so we can meet those needs better.
When I taught a little boy who has autism, I talked to him differently than I talk to my youngest niece (aka The Princess), who has cerebral palsy.
My friend’s son, who’s being treated for leukemia, receives different medication than my oldest nephew (aka The Handsome One), who has diabetes.
But, like every good thing, labels pose a challenge.
The challenge is to use the label to describe the need... not to define the person.
I wince when I hear someone referred to as a “special needs child”.
     Or “autistic boy”.
          Or “Down syndrome man”.
               Or, in the school setting, “IPP kid”.
It’s a good thing I’ve never heard someone call my niece “the wheelchair girl”,
     but I bet she’s heard it.
My niece,
     my nephew,
          my friend’s son,
               the man who lives next door to you...
is a person first...
     a complete and valuable person...
          made in the image of God
             and loved by Him.
His life, her life,
     has been impacted by some kind of diagnosis,
        but he or she is not defined by it.
At least, I pray he or she isn't!
So let’s talk in a way that expresses our belief in every person’s value.
An easy way to do that is to choose person-first language.
     It’s not hard to figure out.
     We just put the person first.
We don’t say “special needs child”.
     We say “child... with special needs”.
Not Down syndrome man.
     Man...who has Down syndrome.
Not the disabled.
     People ... who have disabilities.
Not autistic boy.
     Boy ...who’s been diagnosed with autism.
Not wheelchair girl.
     Girl... who uses a wheelchair.
While we’re at it, person-first language applies to other realms, too.
Please, please... not “the poor”.
     People who are poor.
Not “the elderly”.
     People who are elderly.
Not “the homeless”.
     People who are homeless.
Maybe you think I’m making too much fuss about simple little words.
     After all, we know what we mean, right?
But the truth is, words matter.
Words influence thoughts,
     the thoughts of both the speaker and the hearer.
          Thoughts become attitudes,
               and attitudes become actions.
So let’s start the whole thing right.
Let’s use words that show we think of the person first.

2010-07-16T20:04:00.000-07:00

I am in Ketchikan, Alaska, and I just toured her (in)famously-historic Creek Street, where her longest-standing brothels were in operation until the US federal government closed them down. There is much laughter and under-the-breath joking about these businesses now. But the fact that many women willingly provided the "service" of prostitution... because it made more money than, for instance, waiting tables... is only sad to me.
I consider this business as one that demeans both the "workers" and the men they "serve"; it also undermines the sanctity of marriage and the family. Nevertheless, the women who engage or engaged in prostitution, then and now, are precious in the sight of God. And with that in mind, I am careful to say they were women who engaged in prostitution, rather than call them prostitutes. Do you wonder why I fuss over this detail? (I promise you -- it's not because I want to be politically correct.) And, even more, do you wonder how this has any bearing on the theme of this blog? Your questions are good and fair... and I will answer them in my next entry, as soon as I return home. :)
Now it's back to my cruise ship... talk to you in a few days!
-- Reenie

2010-07-08T00:31:00.000-07:00

Hot and Holy
Bill Hybels’ book Holy Discontent came into my hands only recently, but ever since I heard the title a few years ago, it has resonated with me.
I admit that lots of world-size problems weigh on my heart. I’m moved to tears that children and adults are homeless in my very own city. It tears my heart to hear stories about men, women and children sold as slaves. I feel a great sadness to know that many people are tortured for being faithful to their religious beliefs. And I get a knot in my gut when I think that many children go to sleep hungry every night.
But, honestly, those things don’t “wreck me”, as Bill Hybels’ book says. Those issues don’t burn a hole in my heart, and, awful as they are, they don’t usually keep me awake at night.
But other things do wreck me.
I experience physical pain when I watch a pretty teenaged redhead being ignored by peers and adults at the church her family attends... because she uses a wheelchair. I have trouble sleeping after a mother tells me a Christian school refused to enrol her bright, talkative son...because he has autism. I get heated up inside when I meet a sweet little girl who loves Jesus, but is repeatedly sent away from her church’s children’s programs... because she has Down syndrome.
I get hot under the collar when a child with special needs is denied proper access to any community group, but I get especially hot-and-holy about it when that group claims to be part of the Body of Christ.
We all know Jesus said, “Whatever you’ve done to the least of these, you’ve done to Me.” We who say we love Jesus should be the first to welcome people with challenges. What wrecks me is that, usually, we’re the last.
That’s what Reenie’s Resources is about. Once a week or so, I’ll post an entry related to opening doors, especially doors to the Church, for people who face challenges. I hope you'll check in regularly and comment often! I’d be honoured and encouraged if you become a “follower”.
Before I go today, I have a question for you.
What is God stirring up in your heart? What in this world gives you a holy discontent?
Whether you’re hot-and-holy about world poverty or child abuse or unjust prison sentences or rampant crime or lonely elderly people or lack of access to medical care or...or...or...I encourage you to do what Holy Discontent suggests:
Feed it. Learn more about the problem and what you can do to fix it.
Fight for it. Be prepared to meet resistance and overcome obstacles.
Follow it. Do all in your power to right that wrong in this world.
Together, you and I can leave our children a world that’s better, safer and more hopeful than the one in which we started. We can... so let’s do it!
• Reenie

I Have a Dream

2010-06-22T17:22:00.000-07:00

I Have a Dream
I have a dream…
that every child…
regardless of ability or disability...
will be welcomed
and will find a place to belong
at their neighborhood Bible-teaching Church.

I have a dream…
that every child who can’t walk smoothly…
will have a friend to lean on
or to push his wheelchair…
so he can enter fully into the life of his church family.

I have a dream…
that every child who can’t reach out her hand
will have a hand reached out to her…
so she’ll know she’s accepted in the body of Christ.

I have a dream…
that every child who can’t sit still for a whole Bible story…
will have a Bible story designed for him…
a story that he can sit through.

I have a dream…
that every child who cannot speak…
will be spoken to…
and will be included in conversation…
and in other children’s play.

I have a dream…
That every child who cannot hear with her ears…
will be taught stories and songs…
in a language she can hear.

I have a dream…
that every child who cannot sing…
will enjoy the sound of others’ singing…
and will praise God in his own way.

I have a dream…
that every child whose hands cannot clap…
will have friends who clap with her
and for her.

I have a dream…
that every child who cannot run…
will play games with his friends…
and will have friends who cheer what he can do.

I have a dream…
that every child who cannot cooperate or pay attention…
will be loved and cherished...
no matter what.

I have a dream…
that every child who cannot see the pictures of the Bible story…
will see very clearly that Jesus loves her…
because she has been shown love by those who love Him.

I have a dream…
that every child who doesn’t learn in the typical way…
will learn about Jesus and His love for her.

I have a dream…
that every child who doesn’t move in the typical way…
will move into full belonging in the family of God.

I have a dream…
that every child who doesn’t grow in the typical way…
will grow in his or her relationship with Jesus Christ.

I have a dream…
that every child…
no matter how intelligent or delayed…
defiant or obedient…
athletic or motor-challenged…
healthy or frail…
will know Jesus loves him or her…
and that He died for him…
for her.

I have a dream…
that everyone in the community outside the church…
will know they too will be welcomed
and accepted…
in their local church family…
because they have seen the church obey Christ’s command
to show His love and acceptance…
to all those who are
“the least of these”.

I have a dream…

I have a dream.

© Laureen F. Guenther, 2006

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2010-06-21T22:14:00.000-07:00

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Be kinder than necessary, for everyone is carrying some kind of burden.