Author Archives: diane.connis@gmail.com

Is Hate Speech Free Speech?

You may have heard about the grandmother in Canada who received a disturbing letter from an anonymous neighbor in regard to her grandson.

It was all over the news and internet a few weeks ago.

Max, has autism and spends summers with his grandmother while his mother works. The disgusting words this neighbor wrote about him barely warrant repeating, but the computer typed rant informed grandma that the boy was a nuisance to the neighborhood and he should be euthanized and his non-retarded body parts donated to science!

I read about it with anger and disbelief. Just about the time I think we’re making some headway with some of our human maladies, I’m surprised to discover there are still people like this in the world.

Of course, the disability community went nuts over this, as they should, as we all should.

Websites and Facebook pages began calling for support for this family and there has been a massive outpouring of outrage from all over the globe.

Online petitions demanding justice, for what many call a hate crime, have sprung up with some supporting the arrest and imprisonment of this letter writing neighbor. Others are demanding laws be put in place to stop this type of hate speech.

Canada’s Human Rights Act and Criminal Code passed laws prohibiting ‘hate propaganda’ some time ago but parliament repealed a section of the law this year because of the inability to draw distinct lines between what constitutes hate speech and what is only offensive.

While legislators wrangle over how to define hate speech and turn it into a crime, it is evident that laws against it create a slippery slope that ultimately risks everyone’s freedom of expression.  first-amendment

We who live in freedom loving nations, are still blessed to say whatever we want without fear of imprisonment, which means we sometimes have to put up with people who are rude, cruel or just plain stupid. 

I opt for that over loosing the ability to voice our opinions and beliefs just because they are viewed as offensive or yes, even dangerous.

If you read my previous blogpost, “Tolerating Intolerance,” https://aplacecalledspecial.com/2013/07/02/tolerating-intolerance/  you will already know where I’m going with this.

As much as I believe this neighbor’s letter is despicable, I refuse to sign a petition calling for this person’s arrest. I love my free speech more than the satisfaction of knowing this person’s sorry attitude is sitting in a jail cell.

He/she has the right to say whatever and the responsibility to choose words carefully. Obviously the responsibility part is ignored.

Jesus taught us to, ” Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you” (Luke 6:27-28), and the Apostle Paul, in Ephesians 4:29 admonishes, “Let no corrupt talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear.”

As much as we’d like to, we cannot control what other people think or say but we best be in charge of our own thoughts, words and responses.

We have an obligation to stand up in the face of injustice, but our response as Christ followers should be with wisdom and include prayer, kindness, encouragement and grace – for all. In a situation like this one that is not easy.

Max’s mom must have this figured out. Her reaction to this vicious verbal attack on her son, is, ‘I will not stoop to an insulting level. What I have to say is about tolerance, acceptance and respect for kids with special needs.’

Good for her! She’s taking the high road.

But then she has a child who has probably taught her a lot about that.

So I’d expect nothing less.

 http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/08/19/karla-begley-autistic-letter-teen_n_3780378.html

Recycled Dreams

green-recycle-symbol-8590573Have you heard about the fifteen year old with autism who has already completed his masters in quantum physics at Purdue University and is now working on a PHD at some exclusive program in Canada, or the thirteen year old with Down syndrome who speaks four languages, plays the violin and is an international spokesperson for the Down Syndrome Congress?

I read about these two impressive young men last week and admit to having a momentary lapse of longing for my son, Jonathan, to be one of them.

Many of our special needs kids accomplish more than ever thought possible in previous generations. With this awareness comes hope that our child will do incredible things, rise above the bar and achieve a higher level that no one with their particular ‘label’ has ever reached before.

Though we may wish it, our disabled child may never become the prodigy we dream of, anymore than our typical kids might grow up to become President. It doesn’t mean they can’t but often they don’t, because they are each unique individuals.

Once we go through the initial stages of accepting our surprise assignment, parents do everything possible to help a special needs child reach their full potential. We explore treatments, therapy, classes, lessons, schools, programs, funding, activities, medications, supplements, nutrition, diets, surgeries, support groups.

We read, study, educate ourselves, become our child’s fiercest advocate and mainstream them into society as much as possible, taking them with us everywhere – to restaurants, stores, church and on vacations in an attempt to teach them what life looks like from our point of reference.

Some things work, others do not. There is no way to look into a crystal ball and see our child’s future. From the moment we own the diagnosis we begin to learn the art of balancing recycled dreams. Life with our child becomes a one day at a time journey of hope.

The reality is, while we think we’re preparing and teaching them to be part of the real world, our challenged child is pulling us deeper into his. We become the student, learning qualities such as endurance, patience, acceptance, compassion and unconditional love.

These unprecedented challenges, gradually recreate us into someone fierce yet loving, wise but teachable, accepting yet undefeated, slow to judge but quick to notice injustice.

By the time our child is an adult, this special education has changed us so drastically, we don’t even recognize the person we’ve become. We have revamped and recycled our hopes and dreams for them and ourselves so many times the old us no longer exists.

As a minister’s wife I’ve been asked the hard questions many times. Why does God send people with disabilities into the world? Why would a loving God make a child and family live through the lifelong challenge that creates?

After thirty plus years of being my son’s mom, I don’t pretend to have a lot of answers.

And I don’t need to, not anymore. I’m learning to place my trust in a Heavenly Father who knows all things and informs me on a need to know basis.

One thing I DO know, life with Jon has changed me. I’m not anywhere close to being the person I was the day he came along.

Throughout the years, of a difficult but most wonderful metamorphosis, I have to admit…

I like this me so much better. 

“When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves.” ~Viktor E. Frankl

2 Corinthians 3:18 “But we all, with unveiled face, beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory, just as by the Spirit of the Lord.”

Romans 5:2-5 “Through him [Jesus] we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God.  Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope,  and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.”

Quiet Please!

When Job’s friends show up with lengthy discourse on the reason for his suffering he tells them, “If only you could be silent! That’s the wisest thing you could do.” Job 13:5

Keeping our mouths shut is sometimes the best thing we can do. We may have opinions, thoughts, and scriptures running around in our head like Job’s friend, Elihu, (Job 32: 18-20) in regard to a person’s situation, but it might not be the best time to speak.

Job’s friends were all trying to speak for God, chest bumping and ego wrestling with words and all Job wanted was some relief and comfort in his difficulty.

Then God showed up and said, “Get ready for a difficult task like a man; I will question you and you will inform me! Tell me, if you know it all! (Job 38:3 & 18)

In God’s presence, they all realized they didn’t know as much as they thought and in the end Job had no answer for any of God’s questions but this: “But I have declared without understanding things too wonderful for me to know.” (Job 42:3)

Sometimes the smartest thing we can do, is just be quiet!

Proverbs 17:28 “Even fools are thought wise when they keep silent; with their mouths shut, they seem intelligent.”

My Favorite Love Story

I heard an interesting statistic this week.

Less than 2% who claim to believe the Gospel of Jesus Christ, spend any time reading the Bible.

Reasons are:_Love_Story

Don’t have time

Don’t understand

Can’t relate

It’s outdated, irrelevant

I used to be one of those and have recently been thinking about why and how that changed.

For many years the Bible was just another rule book to me, a list of things I should and shouldn’t do.  It seemed dry and irrelevant to my daily concerns; a Girl Scout manual of hoops I needed to jump through to gain the next God-Is-Happy-With-Me–Again, badge.

Honestly, I was more worried about keeping the people around me happy, than a God I believed in but couldn’t see.

I memorized my Sunday School verses, learned the Bible stories, listened to countless sermons and did my duty devotional reading somewhat daily, but none of this was life giving. It was no different than brushing my teeth or making my bed every day; just something I did because I was supposed to.

I’d sat in church since toddler-hood but God was little more than the Big Meany in the sky.

I could see Him in my overactive imagination, a gigantic, glowing, being sitting on a golden throne with angels on both sides, a pen and a scroll in their hands.

God’s narrow, piercing eyes, always watching and searching for wrong doers, would zero in on me.

 Suddenly God would exclaim, “There, see her?!  That Diane girl?  Look at what she’s doing now!”

He would look away from my activities here on earth to the angel on His right; the one who records sins for names starting with A through M.

Both angels, stretching their necks to look around the big fluffy cloud in their way, would follow the pointing finger of God; trying to see what I’m up to this time.

“ She’s doing that thing again!” God would purse his lips in disgust and shake His giant head.

“Write it down! Now!”

The angel, who was still trying to find me in a sea of humanity would snap to attention and start recording the date, time and my newest offense. He didn’t have to ask God my name. He’d written it so many times he always remembers.

In my mind, God was the giant Santa in the sky, making a list, checking it twice, finding out who’s naughty or nice.

And you better be ready when He comes to town ‘cause you’re in for it! No blessing for you only guilt, shame and punishment.

Since I was a small child, I’d heard and read that God loved me even sent His Son to die for me, but I couldn’t justify the God of the Old Testament with the Jesus of the New Testament.

God seemed psychotic, wiping whole people groups off the planet one minute and dying on a cross for me the next.

I didn’t get it.

Through a series of life circumstances that aligned like the planets, I came to a place where all the Christian cliches and doctrines I had memorized didn’t give me the answers I was looking for anymore.

I wanted more, needed more than my shallow beliefs. I knew about God but I was miserable. What I desperately wanted was for Him to be my soul mate. I had to know if He really loved ME and I could love Him back.

If He was the God of love that Jesus portrayed, why did I feel so unworthy? Why did I feel like God didn’t like me?

We each have filters that are the sum total of our experiences, thought process, values and beliefs which influence the way we view God. All my life, I had believed only what I’d been told, but hadn’t diligently searched it out for myself.

I came to the realization that my concept of God might be faulty and I didn’t know Him at all. So I began to ask Him to show Himself to me, if He truly was my Heavenly Father, to reveal the greatness of His love.

When I opened the Bible, I prayed that I would not read anything into or pull anything out of it that wasn’t truly there. I asked God to let me see exactly what He wanted me to see in its pages.

The transformation was slow but amazing, and gradually I fell in love with the God who loves me, the God in my Bible.

He began to strip away all the things I thought I knew and replace them with a simple trust in who He is.

My filters and assessment of God never changed who He truly is; they only distorted the way I had perceived Him. I began to see everything differently.

Religion told me I had to do more, be more, be better. God just tells me He loves me and calls me into His love.

God’s Word is no longer a rule book but a love letter and God isn’t a mean, score keeping, dictator but my friend and merciful, caring Father. Now, I want nothing more than to make Him happy, not out of fear or obligation but because of love.

From beginning to end, the Bible is God’s love story for humanity. It explains how He created us for friendship but also created us with choice. While I am busy choosing everything else, God mercifully and constantly calls me back to his heart, because with Him is where I belong.

 My Bible is that special letter God wrote to me; like one a lover would send and I keep in a treasured place, unfolding gently so as not to tear the worn, yellowed creases.

I read it again and again and am filled with joy in discovering He loves me and thinks I’m beautiful. I am adored, and cherished by the God of the Universe and His heart breaks whenever my own wanders far and He can’t be near me.

What girl doesn’t love a good love story?

And how amazing to be the main character in the best one of all.

I think I’ll stop writing now. I need to read my love letter again, today.

He’s Everything to Me: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ywzlq2AiAuM

Turn It Off – Should Down Syndrome’s 21st Chromosome Be Deleted?

light switchScientists have been messing with stem cells in a laboratory and have figured out how to ‘turn off’ the extra chromosome in Down syndrome, a recent finding revealed.

http://www.disabilityscoop.com/2013/07/18/in-chromosome-turned-off/18342/

It could be years before a treatment of this type is people ready, but the possibility sent a wave of blog posts and commentary through the many online disability communities and families that care about someone with Down syndrome.

In the various discussions and commentary I surfed through, the difference in opinion on the topic between those who have young children and those who have older teen and adult children, is very interesting.

Most parents of toddler and elementary age children were certain they wouldn’t want the treatment if it was available. Parents of older children weren’t so sure. They’ve dealt with their child’s limitations long enough to see the overreaching effects into adult life.

The best way to illustrate my viewpoint is to tell you a story that took place about fifteen years ago.

Around the age of ten, Jon started telling us when he was old enough to drive, he wanted a red Jeep. Anytime he saw a red Jeep he would smile really big, point to it and say, “I’m having that!”

We were hesitant to suppress his dream. Maybe he would be one of the few people with Down syndrome who could someday handle the responsibility of driving. After all, Jon’s generation was the first to prove people with disabilities could do more than anyone expected. So we let him keep the hope of driving a red Jeep, alive.

When Jon was about eighteen, friends of ours needed a second vehicle and decided to purchase a Jeep. Our families had been close knit since Jon and their oldest son, Nathan, who was a few years younger than Jon, were preschoolers.

The Jeep, which just happened to be red, was claimed by Nathan, as awesome transportation to ‘be totally cool’ in while learning to drive.

We lived in an HOA with a community pool and one hot summer day, Nathan called and asked if he and his younger brother, Matt, could come over and go to the pool with Jon and our youngest son, David.

My boys put on their swim gear, grabbed towels and the three of us went to sit on the front step and wait for Nathan and Matt to be dropped off at our house so we could walk to the pool together.

A few minutes later a red Jeep came around the corner and down the street. Jon stared in awe as the vehicle went by and pulled into the driveway on the far side of the house.

I watched as he noticed who was in the driver’s seat and what I saw in his face made my heart sink.

Nathan was driving. As he turned off the engine and climbed down from his perch with a smile as bright as the hot sun, Jon turned to me and said so quietly I barely heard, “Nathan gets to drive a red Jeep?”

D-Day had arrived.

I didn’t know what to say. Mike and I had realized a few years back that Jon didn’t and probably wouldn’t ever have the quick thinking, instant decision making, comprehension and coordination skills needed to be a responsible driver.

While he was still talking about the day he would drive his red Jeep, we were trying to figure out how to tell him that he never would.

We went to the pool for the rest of the afternoon and the boys had a good time together. It seemed that Jon had forgotten about the red Jeep and Nathan’s driving, so I put it out of my mind too.

The next morning, just as I stepped out of the shower, David banged frantically on the bathroom door and started yelling that I needed to come. “Right now!”

I threw on my robe and ran downstairs just in time to see Jon trying to back my car out of the garage.

He had helped himself to the keys and was behind the wheel, stomping on the gas, then the brake, gas, brake, gas, brake. With tires squealing and the car lurching, he had managed to back into the middle of our dead end street and run into the garage while doing so.

We sat Jon down, had the heart breaking talk with him in simple terms he could understand. It is one of the few times I’ve ever seen my son cry.

We cried with him.

A few days later he tried out his driving skills again. This time backing my car into the street, and hitting Mike’s company supplied car parked in front of the house, as he pulled forward.

We never hung our car keys on the hook by the garage door again and something changed in Jon after that.

A piece of that innocent and carefree Jon disappeared because he knew.

He finally understood that other people got to do things he couldn’t and he knew why.

And knowing that he knew was almost more than this mother’s heart could bear. My eyes cried and my heart ached for my boy again, as it has many times through all the years of loving him.

Jon has not been a little boy for a long time. I don’t know if he ever thinks about the red Jeep anymore.

He’s a man now but he stopped talking about it years ago.

And though I love him just as he is, I would do anything to remove the limits he lives with.

If there was a treatment that would guarantee my son’s ability to drive his red Jeep, would I consider it?

Absolutely!

If there was a way to open all of life’s possibilities to him, would I consider it?

Definitely! I’d do it in a heartbeat and be there for him if he needed me, just as I am now.

I’d do it because I’m his mom.

I’d do it for love.

The 7 Things 38 Years Have Taught Me

Aug 23 1975Most weddings my pastor husband, Mike, presides over include the favored reading of the qualities of love from 1 Corinthians 13.

My observance of these joyful ceremonies, finds me wondering if these young, love struck couples, holding hands and gazing deep into one another’s eyes, understand the words they are hearing and repeating.

I remember standing with Mike on our wedding day and wholeheartedly agreeing to that promise. Thirty eight years later I realize I had little to no comprehension what it really meant.

“Love is patient, kind, does not envy or boast, is not proud, does not dishonor others, is not self-seeking, is not easily angered, keeps no list of wrongs, does not delight in evil but rejoices in truth, always protects, trusts, hopes, and perseveres and never gives up.”

Sounds nice doesn’t it?

Wouldn’t happily-ever-after be more than a fairy tale if we showed up with all the Love Chapter qualities intact on our wedding day?

None of us do. We may be in love but we sure don’t know much about it yet.

When the fireworks of the honeymoon dissipate and life settles into routine joys, challenges and responsibilities, the truth of the Love Chapter comes to test, stretching and challenging us in ways we never imagined.

You may be at the start of your marriage journey or have already traveled the road for a long time.

Either way, I want to share a few things with you I’ve learned since Mike and I said “I Do,” thirty eight years ago today.

1. It’s Not All About You:

Ask a young dating or engaged couple what they love about their significant other. The reply is telling.

“He makes me happy.”

” I need her.”

“I don’t want to live without him.”

Many answers start with ‘I’ or refer to how the other person makes ‘me’ feel.

Most of us start marriage from a position of selfishness. I know I did.

I hope all of us experience an abundance of dizzying romance, exploding fireworks and breath taking passion in marriage but real love is deeper than heart thumping emotion.

Love is action. Love is putting the other person ahead of “me” when you would rather have it your way.

Love is sometimes hard to DO and even harder to BE. It doesn’t always feel good and it isn’t always easy.

The good news is God IS LOVE and He can help us learn the fine art of laying “me” aside when necessary and cheerfully considering the needs of another.

Emancipation from the jail of selfishness brings us into a freedom and joy we never imagined.

2. Make a Commitment to Stay:

You won’t always feel the overwhelming rush of emotion you’re experiencing right now. Feelings ebb and flow like the tide – in and out.

While Hollywood tells us, when the feeling is gone the love is gone, I Corinthians 13 portrays love as the sum of many decisions and actions instead of a feeling.

A relationship based solely on emotion stands on a shallow and shaky foundation.

As the days turn into years there are continuous choices to be made.

How will I treat those I say I love, especially when the goose bumps and warm fuzzy feelings are absent?

How will I apply love to my words and deeds, and by doing so become more than a sounding gong or clanging cymbal-just a lot of noise void of substance?

You might have a few mornings when you wake up, roll over, look at your spouse and forgot what it was you loved about them on your wedding day.

That’s OK. It’s normal!

Don’t panic. Don’t run. Don’t hide. Stick it out and work through it.

Learning to be married well doesn’t happen overnight. It takes a lifetime.

When you look back years later and say, “We’ve been through so much together, we’ve come far, we made it, and I still love you,” you’ll be glad you stayed and will have a deeper understanding of what REAL love is.

3. You Will Have Problems.

I wish we could get through life without problems but somewhere along the way they always show up. They add a dynamic to marriage that can bring you closer together or pull you apart.

We all respond in diverse ways to difficulty, so make allowances for the differences in your spouse’s reaction to illness, stress, loss, hardship. Don’t expect him/her to react the way you do to every situation.

God is wise in not revealing the future all at once.

“The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord” (Proverbs 37:23) means He reveals the plan and purpose one day at a time, one step at a time and promises to walk into it with us.

Do remember, God has grace great enough to get you and your marriage through anything.

If, as a couple, you are continually seeking His wisdom and trusting Him together, you will come out on the other side of your trials better and stronger than ever.

4. You Won’t Always Agree.

If you want to live with someone who agrees with you all the time, marry a mannequin.

You can dress it however you want. It will never gain weight, get wrinkles or gray hair and will always love your opinion because it will never have one!

We usually marry someone with a few brain cells and some thought process. This is good news, because they can add a whole new perspective to our way of seeing things IF we let them.

Listen and be open to your spouse’s point of view. You could actually learn something.

If you don’t agree on every point it’s not the end of the world or your relationship.

Learning how to disagree and still respect each other is an important key to keeping your marriage moving forward.

5. Learn to Compromise:

Though you may not agree on every point, you have to come to some sort of middle ground on the important stuff.

We bring different backgrounds and temperaments into marriage and coming to reasonable agreement as mature adults is a learned skill so don’t be discouraged and give up if you don’t handle this well the minute the ‘I Do’s’ are said.

Some negotiation and compromise are essential for two people to live together day in and out. It’s called being flexible!

Discernment and wisdom are required to know when to hold on or let go, speak or be quiet, give or take.

Remember that pouting or resorting to silence every time we have to give in a bit doesn’t win us admiration points with our spouse.

That’s what kids do. Remember we’re not kids anymore, we’re adults!

6. Laugh:

Here’s a good question to ask yourself; how much fun are you to be around?

Do you enjoy being with yourself? If the answer is no, others probably don’t want to hang around with you either.

Are you a moody, frowning, opinionated, nagging, critical, complaining, miserable person who pushes people away with a constant negative attitude?

What a HUGE turn off for a spouse who has to put up with you daily!!

Obviously we aren’t up all the time. Life can be difficult and throw challenges our way, some we don’t even see coming.

But finding joy in life, being a good listener and encourager, even wearing a smile goes a long way. It makes you and everyone inside your perimeter feel better.

In case you haven’t noticed, there’s plenty of humor in the everyday events of life. People are pretty funny creatures.

Even the things that cause stress can be funny if we look at them from another side.

Laughter is the most priceless thing in the world and it doesn’t cost a cent.

Having fun, being fun, doesn’t have to expensive but it is absolutely essential to a happy marriage.

7. Pray

Pray, pray and pray some more.

Oh and did I say PRAY?!

No one knows you or your spouse better that the One who created you.

God can give you keys to unresolved conflict, patience when you’ve run out, and ideas to keep your relationship fresh and fun.

He can help you see your spouse from His perspective and give you understanding about what makes them tick, why they do those things that make you crazy.

Once you receive God’s heart for your spouse, it’s easier to let go and just love them for who they are.

And if you pray together, better yet. It’s hard to stay mad at someone you pray with.

There’s something about love and prayer that strengthen each other and that’s really good for marriage.

So pray!

1 Corinthians 13

What if I could speak all languages of humans and of angels?
If I did not love others, I would be nothing more than a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal.
What if I could prophesy and understand all secrets and all knowledge?
And what if I had faith that moved mountains? I would be nothing, unless I loved others.
What if I gave away all that I owned and let myself be burned alive?
I would gain nothing, unless I loved others.

Love is kind and patient, never jealous, boastful, proud, or 5 rude.
Love isn’t selfish or quick tempered.
It doesn’t keep a record of wrongs that others do.
Love rejoices in the truth, but not in evil.
Love is always supportive, loyal, hopeful, and trusting.
Love never fails!

Everyone who prophesies will stop, and unknown languages will no longer be spoken.
All that we know will be forgotten. We don’t know everything and our prophecies are not complete.
But what is perfect will someday appear, and what isn’t perfect will then disappear.

When we were children, we thought and reasoned as children do.
But when we grew up, we quit our childish ways.
Now all we can see of God is like a cloudy picture in a mirror. Later we will see him face to face.
We don’t know everything, but then we will, just as God completely understands us.

 For now there are faith, hope, and love.
But of these three, the greatest is love.

The G Word

We now have the R-word, happily joining the demise of the N-word, at least in the halls of government.

In 2010 President Obama signed Rosa’s Law mandating the term ‘intellectual disability’ replace ‘mental retardation’ in all federal health and education policies.

As of this month Social Security has dropped the language and in Florida, our state of residence, Governor Rick Scott followed forty other states by signing a bill, in February of this year, removing ‘retardation’ from state statutes.

The clinical definition of the word retarded is:  slow or limited in intellectual or emotional development or academic progress. In its simplest form it means, to slow down by preventing or hindering advance or accomplishment, to impede.

I’m not bothered by the R-word much anymore. Though he may be slow in many undertakings, our son, Jonathan, and others like him are so much more than the definition of the words that label them; they are people first with individuality, personality, feelings, wants, hopes and dreams just like all of us.

Those who make an effort to know them understand this.

The morning following our firstborn’s arrival in May of 1980, the pediatrician came into my hospital room to give me the news.

Our baby had Down syndrome.

When our son was born, the use of the word mongoloid, which for decades inappropriately described people with Down syndrome, was declining and being replaced with the last name of the British doctor, John Langdon Down, who first classified the characteristics of the syndrome in 1866.

Up to that point, I had limited knowledge and exposure to people with mental disabilities. The law providing disabled children a public education wasn’t passed until the year 1975, two years after I graduated from high school and in previous generations the majority of disabled children were hidden away at home or put in institutions never to be seen again.

I had no idea what Down syndrome was; had never even heard of it.

“What is that?” I asked the doctor, hoping it was some minor newborn problem that would go away in a few days .

“A mongoloid,” he answered, the inflection of his voice rising at the end of the word as if asking a question.

He looked at me like he hoped I knew what that meant.

I did.

That word sent a jolt of fear deep into my very core. I remembered catching brief glimpses of “mongoloid” people. Images of a young man who attended the church I went to as a child immediately scrolled through my mind.

‘But we don’t like to use that term anymore,’ the doctor explained, ‘’Down syndrome describes the condition and its various symptoms better. I’m sorry, but you need to be aware that there is no cure for this and your child will be retarded for the rest of his life.”

In just a few sentences, I had heard every word available at the time, in medicine and society, to categorize my baby. In that life changing moment such terminology came only with the realization that I was totally unprepared for what the future might hold for us and our newborn son.

I had a lot to learn.

Years later, our youngest son came home on a college break, bringing a group of friends with him; a mix of guys and gals. As we gathered around the table for an evening of popcorn and board games, the random banter and laughter of youth reverberated through the house.

At the height of their silliness, one of the guys made a funny comment that sent everyone into laughing fits. One of the girls flippantly responded by telling him, “You’re such a retard.”

Suddenly, silence halted the clamor.

In the college lunch hall the conversation and laughter would have continued without a thought. But here, as guests in Jonathan’s home, sitting at his family’s table, laughter quickly changed to embarrassment, with the immediate realization of what had been said.

Red faced and tripping over her tongue, the girl began apologizing profusely.

She didn’t mean to be hurtful, I got that. It was an expression, something kids say to each other and in that context the word was a synonym for acting dumb or ridiculous.

I wasn’t upset, but told her she needed to think how Jon would feel if he had heard her. Fortunately he hadn’t.

The word, retard, had been used toward him in a derogatory context and he only knew it as a put down. His reasoning and processing ability is very literal and it’s often difficult for him to separate words based on context. The framework for forming the multiple nuances of a word, are usually lost on Jon.

I hoped it was a lesson she and the other students present that evening, never forgot.

Legislating behavior doesn’t change who we are on the inside and playing politically correct word games does nothing to change the heart of a person who chooses to degrade a word from its original definition into a weapon of insult.

If we simply value every God created human life, treating others the way we want to be treated, and think about the impact of our words, there would be no need to sign laws to send words to the dictionary scrap heap.

We are called to speak blessing not condemnation. Peace not strife. Encouragement not injury.

Forget N and R words!

Solve the problem.

Communicate the G-word to everyone, everywhere.

 GRACE!

There’s no law against that one, at least not yet.

Let your conversation be always full of grace.. Colossians 4:6

Let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth, but that which is good to the use of edifying, that it may minister grace unto the hearers. Ephesians 4:29

 

 

 

 

Spirit Fruit Cake

I’ve never tasted a fruit cake I like, but I’ve been thinking about them since my friend’s ten year old daughter, Rachel, had another one of her Heaven dreams. 

(See my earlier post about Rachel here:) http://aplacecalledspecial.blogspot.com/2013/05/heaven-is-here.html

She told her mom they baked a cake in Heaven made out of the fruit of the Spirit listed in Galatians 5:22.  

“.. the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control.”

Rachel said, “It is good for our spirit because it is made out of spirit stuff. It is good for our bodies because it comes from our spirit into our bodies where we need it.”

 Maybe this fruit cake dream is a message and reminder that the fruit of the Spirit, which we tend to think of as individual traits, are connected; intertwined. 

Instead of wondering which one or two we need most, we are meant to see the need for ALL of them. 

So, how do we assimilate these fruit into our daily life? 

What exactly is the recipe for Spirit Fruit Cake?

Hunger (need)

The first step in the recipe is recognizing a need for these attributes; having a hunger to be more like Christ in every area of life and a desire to display His character in every circumstance.

When our stomach is hungry we have an insatiable craving to fill it and go to great measures to ensure our body is fed. 

Without a hunger for sustenance that feeds the spirit, it is doomed to shrivel rather than grow.

Worse yet, we are destined for a constant struggle to be good enough on our own.

I needn’t remind any of us how often that fails.

Mix (add all ingredients)

The New Testament speaks often of being filled with the Spirit (Ephesians 5:18) and walking in the Spirit filled life (Galatians 5:16). 

When we receive Christ and are filled with the Holy Spirit the seeds of His fruit are planted within us. They are one of His many gifts that help us live the abundant life Jesus promised (John 10:10).

The growth of these fruit depend on our need and use of them. They develop in the watered and fertile soil of a heart surrendered to God.

1 Peter 1: 5-9 instructs us, with diligence, to “add to your faith virtue, to virtue knowledge, to knowledge self-control, to self-control perseverance, to perseverance godliness, to godliness brotherly kindness, and to brotherly kindness love. For if these things are yours and abound, you will be neither barren nor unfruitful in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ.  

This is not a buffet, picking and choosing the fruit we like or wondering which one or two we need most. 

Like any good recipe, one ingredient blends into the next and the full use of one fruit at work in us is hindered without incorporating the others; they cannot come to fruition alone.  

What good is it to be a patient person if we are not kind? Where is gentleness without love? How can we have longsuffering if we don’t possess self control? Is it even possible to have joy without peace? 

Gentleness, kindness, joy, peace, longsuffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control interact with one another to create the entire recipe in the Spirit Fruit Cake. 

Not one ingredient can be left out with an expectation for the finished product to turn out right.

Bake (turn up the heat!)

We all face daily situations that present us with opportunity to react in multiple ways. Here is where the trouble waits. 

How will we respond when the choice is callousness or kindness, irritation or patience, strife or peace, rudeness or gentleness?

To feed our body well and keep it healthy we have to make wise food choices. Denying our flesh the convenient route by making a salad, takes more thought and preparation than grabbing a candy bar.

Likewise, our natural response to adverse and annoying inconvenience is usually an unhealthy serving of selfishness and pride. Emotion takes over, words are unleashed and when the deed is done, regret and misery settle in where God’s peace and serenity should live.


If we ask, God meets our practice of these fruit at each situation we face, with unlimited grace and at the exact moment of need. 

Becoming intentionally aware of God’s amazing grace at work in our life, allows us to hold our tongue, curb our anger or see an irritating person from a different perspective. 

Only He can give us insight and discernment into what triggers our flawed reactions.

Developing the Fruit of the Spirit is a lifelong process. The more we practice the easier it becomes to react out of Christ-like love, instead of flesh and out of spiritual discernment rather than human emotion. 

At some point we more consistently respond with gentleness instead of harshness, patience instead of annoyance, gentleness instead of rudeness, joy instead of moodiness.

The Spirit of God takes dominance over self and others are now fed by the nourishing fruit within us.

Not where you want to be yet? Don’t despair, there’s plenty of fruit cake to go around.

 A steady diet of this recipe is recommended. 

And no calorie counting is required.

Colossians 1:9-11 “For this reason we also, since the day we heard it, do not cease to pray for you, and to ask…that you may walk worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing Him, being fruitful in every good work and increasing in the knowledge of God..”

Colossians 1:27 “Christ in you,the hope of glory.”

Self Control or Patience? I’ll Take an Order of Both, Please!

I took Jon to Wendy’s fast food restaurant the other day…well…let’s say, I tried.

He emerged from his room in the early afternoon, around 1pm, desperately needing a shower, shave and change of clothes and headed for the garage to get in the car; his signal that, ” I’d like to go someplace now.”

I told him there would be no going anywhere looking like he just crawled out from under a rock. He frowned and shuffled back inside to the bathroom.

By the time we got in the car, Jon had showered, put on clean clothes and it was almost 7:30 pm. 

He was also wearing a plastic headband with paper Mickey Mouse ears taped to it, garden gloves and a flowered belt from my closet. Random items were tucked between the belt and his waist, a plastic sword, a drumstick, a long glow stick with a bright red heart on the end and several other unidentified objects.

He handed me a note and I stared at the scrawled print trying to figure out what it said. Considering the way he was decorated, I had a feeling I already knew.

I deciphered the words, DISENI and MIKEY MOSE and realized I was correct. He wanted to go to Disney. 

Problem number one, it was already late and we don’t live in Kissimmee anymore. From there, Disney was a fifteen minute drive. Now that we’re located thirty miles north of Orlando, Disney is an hour away, maybe more depending on interstate traffic.

Problem number two, our Disney passes expired several years ago and Jon doesn’t understand it costs a bundle to get in the park and is barely worth the price when you’re staying all day. Forget it if you’re showing up an hour or two before it closes. 

I handed the note back, “Sorry Dude, it’s too late to go to Disney now. You took so long getting ready we don’t have much time to go anywhere. How about Wendy’s or McDonalds. They’re both open late.”

He scowled as he took the note back and turned it over. I waited another ten minutes until he finally wrote WEDYS on the back. By the time we pulled into Wendy’s parking lot it was 8:05pm.

I shut off the car and told him that his costume was pretty impressive but “If you don’t want people staring at you all night then you better take all that stuff off and leave it in the car.”

Sometimes he cares about that, other times, not. He carefully took everything off except the flowered belt. 

I got out of the car and walked over to wait for him near the door. It was now 8:30. 

Jon stayed in the car at least another ten minutes trying to decide what he wanted to bring inside. Finally the door opened and another five minutes passed, then two legs appeared beneath. 

After several minutes went by he stood up. He remained statue still in that spot for about five minutes. 

He finally shut the door and stayed next to the car for nearly ten minutes, pushing buttons on an imaginary keypad under the door handle. 

I pulled out my remote and hit the lock button. The horn beeped. Jon frowned. 

It took him another eight minutes to walk from the car to the sidewalk curb. Once he was actually on the sidewalk that led to the entrance, I went inside, sat down at a table near the window and continued to watch his slow progress toward the door.

While I watched, a woman who had passed me thirty minutes prior, as I waited on the sidewalk, finished eating and came back by me to leave. She glanced out the window at Jon, who was slowly making his way to the door in intermittent starts and pauses.

“Are you with him?” She asked.

“Yes.” I forced a smile. 

I was hungry and tired of waiting. Honestly, I really wanted to go outside and give my kid a big boot in the behind with my foot to get him moving. It took every ounce of self control I had and a lot of Jesus talking to stay in that chair and keep waiting. 

I also realized if someone saw me do that, I’d probably be in handcuffs for assaulting a disabled person in Wendy’s parking lot. So I stayed put and prayed for more patience and grace and tried to put my thoughts on something other than my snail slow child.

“Is he your son?” the woman asked, not waiting for an answer. “I’m a special ed teacher in Orlando,” she continued.”It sure takes a lot of patience sometimes doesn’t it?”

Sometimes?!!?

“Yes it does,” I replied, “And I think I’m about to run out if he doesn’t get in here pretty soon.”

I smiled again, hoping she wouldn’t think worse of me for what I’d just said. She was trying to complement me after all.

Her preschool size grandson was pulling on her, stretching her arm so far he slid sideways to the floor. He was ready to go and I found myself wishing Jon was like him; wishing I could be over the agonizing amount of waiting that happens whenever I take Jon any place. 

The woman smiled back. “You are a very patient person,” she said. 

I was thankful what I was really feeling wasn’t showing on the outside.

I realized then that we easily confuse self control with patience. I was anything BUT patient right then. My ability, by God’s grace, to control myself when I wanted to do anything but had been perceived as patience.

“Thank You God, for self control,” I said out loud to God and myself as she turned to leave.  

Self control isn’t a popular topic in our impatient culture but it’s such a crucial foundation to the other character qualities we need. Love, peace, endurance, tolerance, kindness, gentleness, patience all start with putting self aside for the good of another.

Proverbs 25:28 states, “A man without self-control is like a city broken into and left without walls.” Sounds to me like a place left defenseless. Without self control, all boundaries are gone and every destructive thing has access to our life.

My outing with Jon didn’t end any better than it started. He came through the restaurant door at 9:25pm. We ordered by 9:40 and I sat back down while Jon took his time at the soda machine and condiment counter. 

I ate quickly and was booting up my laptop, relaxing into a few hours of writing time, when the manager walked back to let me know they were closing. 

We had to leave.

“At 10 o’clock?” I asked in disbelief. Hadn’t I seen advertisements, posters and billboards announcing Wendy’s late night hours all over the place? 

Jon hadn’t even sat down yet. He was still pumping ketchup into little paper cups.

I sighed, put my laptop away and readied myself for the struggle coming to get him back out the door he had just come through.

Thank God for self control. 

Like my good friend Glee always says, “Just ‘cause self control is last on the list doesn’t mean it’s not important,”

Galatians 5:22-23 But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control..

Lessons From My Garden-The Other Side of Darkness

Darkness.

I’ve experienced it. You have too. 

Maybe you’re there right now, a time in life when everything safe, secure and comfortable has been uprooted. 

Turned upside down. 

Night may have descended in the middle of a bright sunny day with a phone call, a diagnosis, a betrayal, a loss, a failure. 

In an instant, you are overshadowed by gloom and despair and not one glimmer of light flickers to guide you to a solution. 

You feel trapped in a dark place with no way out. Abandoned. Alone. Afraid.

What are we to do in the darkness, through the long night of struggle and heartache?

I’ve noticed several amazing plants in my garden that illustrate the answer to this question in different ways:

PRAY 

The Cassia tree, abundant in clusters of symmetrical leaves, is covered with bright yellow flowers in Autumn. A small shrub-like tree, it grows twelve to fifteen feet tall. 

Sulpher butterflies, the large yellow-winged variety, are attracted to the Cassia and will rest on its branches even when it isn’t flowering.

An amazing characteristic of the Cassia is how it folds its leaves together at dusk, as if putting little hands together for bedtime prayers.

The Cassia “prays” all night and when the sun rises in the morning the leaves open to another day of butterfly welcoming.

A life without prayer is a life without light. What better time to pray than when we can’t see where we’re going?

The lyric to an old hymn put it this way:

Have we trials and temptations?
Is there trouble anywhere?
We should never be discouraged
Take it to the Lord in prayer.
Can we find a friend so faithful,
Who will all our sorrows share?
Jesus knows our every weakness;
Take it to the Lord in prayer.

PRAISE

The Four O’clock plant has small trumpet-like flowers that remain closed during the day. 

When evening comes they open, displaying a mass of color across the top of their waxy stems and releasing a mild, sweet fragrance into the night. 

As we sit on the patio in the evening the delightful scent is carried to us on the breeze. This flower puts on its greatest display in the darkness. 

The Four O’clock is not concerned about the setting sun. It was made to rejoice in the night.

Paul and Silas, in the darkness of a dreary prison cell (Acts 16), praised God in the middle of the night, the fragrance of their worship carried on the wind of the Holy Spirit to God’s throne.

Their praise brought the answer to their problem and set them free.

PATIENCE

The Poinsettia plant is famous for its beautiful red Christmas blooms. 

The blooms are actually the plant’s green leaves which slowly transform into a brilliant red color as the daylight hours shorten and nights grow longer.

Poinsettias need the long dark nights of autumn and early winter, to convert leaves from green to red. The process takes about six to eight weeks but the plant can only produce the bright red color we all enjoy, in darkness.

The night seasons of life are mostly unwelcome, but they create something beneficial in us and for others, if we let them. 

James 1:3-4, shows us that these troubles test our faith and produce patience. Once patience has done its work, we will be complete and have everything we need for a God-filled life.

Some of the greatest transformative experiences occur in the night seasons of life. 

My plants never fuss in the darkness but yield to its process. When the sun rises in the morning, they are glorious to behold.

Keep praying and praising and be patient.

You’ll be surprised by the beauty found on the other side of darkness, when the light shines again.

Job 23: 8 Behold, I go forward, but he [God] is not there,and backward, but I do not perceive him; on the left hand when he is working, I do not behold him; he turns to the right hand, but I do not see him. But heknows the way that I take; when he hastried me, I will come out as gold.

Psalm 18: 6 But in my distress I cried out to the LORD; yes, I prayed to my God for help. He heard me from his sanctuary; my cry reached his ears.

Psalm 120:1 In my distress I cried to the Lord, and He heard me.

Isaiah 50:10 Who walks in darkness and has no light? Let him trust in the name of the Lord and rely upon his God.