Don’t Believe Everything You Hear

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.

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

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.