Tag Archives: disability

Adapting or Accepting?

It took about three weeks of random days, doing a section at a time, but I finally finished pressure washing the pool deck today.

As I was pulling the weeds that grow between the pavers with pliers, because my arthritis crippled fingers aren’t strong enough to grasp them, I was thinking about how adaptable humans are. How we endure and adjust to life’s difficult twists and turns.

The Serenity Prayer has been quoted for a long time: “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, Courage to change the things I can, and Wisdom to know the difference.”

I‘ve had to adapt to many difficult challenges through the years and realize of late, that I have always had a problem with the acceptance line of this quote. I‘ve never been good at accepting what I can’t change because I’m not sure I should. To me acceptance means giving up, giving in to a thing and allowing it to rule, and I see little in scripture or history where that has ever been a good idea.

My first son was born with a genetic disability, and while I accept and love HIM for who HE is, I have never fully accepted the imitations disability has placed on him. Otherwise I wouldn’t have done everything possible to help him reach his full potential through the years. Have I adapted to how his disability affects him, me and our family? Yes, and continue to adjust daily. But I have never rejoiced that my son has not been able to live his life the way others do. I have never stopped grieving in the depths of my being that he still needs continual supervision as an adult. I know in my heart God’s original creation was never meant to be this way, so complete acceptance still alludes me.

All the ways I’ve adapted to having a crippling chronic illness, beginning in my mid-twenties, are too many to list here. Pulling weeds with pliers is just one of hundreds. Learning to eat properly to reduce inflammation in my body is another. Acceptance means I would give up. Lay in my bed, drink soda pop and eat donuts, howling in pain, expecting others to do everything for me. There are times when we need others to do for us, but ‘the wisdom to know the difference’ is part of adjusting to our situation.

I can never accept coming home from grocery shopping to find the man I loved for forty three years, dead. Just like that. Gone. No. Never. Because I know physical separation, death in this life, was never God’s intention from the beginning. Death was chosen and since then, we all live with the physical consequences of this choice. So after a lifetime of marriage, I’m at a new level of adaptation. Learning how to be single. How to be alone. How to get things done that are hard for me to do.

So many of the tasks Mike did are now mine and I’m slowly adjusting to all these new responsibilities; knowing when I should and who I can call for help, who I can trust and when I can do a thing myself. I‘m certain I‘m making mistakes, bumbling along, asking for wisdom, help and endurance to figure it all out but I also understand I have to be patient, even with myself. I’ve been dropped suddenly into new territory, without a map or GPS, and this journey requires a steep learning curve.

As humans we grieve all our losses. Some impact us so deeply, that we never think of them without feeling that sludge hammer of sorrow to the heart and it is a huge misinterpretation of scripture to believe God asks us to deny this reality. What He wants is to be invited into it. To meet us there. To walk with us in and through.

So while I will not blindly accept any of these things that were never His original intention, neither will I pretend they don’t exist. I meet them head on with HIS strength and guidance. I have little of my own.

Many days are exhausting and difficult, but I must not, cannot, settle into acceptance. I must keep trying. Keep asking. Keep seeking. Keep enduring.

By Father’s great grace I adjust. Adapt. Pull weeds with pliers and keep going.

A Jon View of Loss

I found this photo today, upside down on an end table in the family room. An old one, judging by how we’re dressed, possibly taken in the late 1980’s or early 90’s.

A snapshot of happier days with Mike’s youngest sister and husband, and me and what used to be my husband. Used to be is the key phrase here, because two years ago my husband died. Suddenly. Unexpectedly. And as you can guess, he was in this picture. If you look closely his hand is draped over my right shoulder.

As soon as I flipped this photo over, I saw Mike had been scratched out. And I knew who did it. But I wasn’t sure why. What I do know is Jon is still internalizing the loss of his father, as am I, and though he’s spoken little of it from the beginning until now, this is proof.

I took the photo to Jon, put it down in front of him and very gently asked, “Jon, why did you you scratch your dad out of this picture?” It was a shot in the dark to ask and I really didn’t expect an answer from my mostly nonverbal son.

He glanced at the picture and looked away. “He’s gone,” was the reply. So much sadness in his expression. So much hurt and pain in his eyes. Maybe my disabled son thinks scratching his dad out of a photo somehow makes it all go away. I wish it was that easy. Wish I knew Jon’s thoughts. Wish we could have that conversation. Wish he could open up and pour out everything he’s feeling inside. But he never has. He doesn’t have those words.

So he just makes his father disappear.

In the past we’ve been told by ‘experts’ and believed that grief is on a timeline, it’s not. Two years is nothing compared to the lifetime we had Mike with us. Thirty seven for Jon. Forty three for me. So you will excuse us if it takes us that many years to ‘get over him.’ Please?

Honestly, I doubt we ever will. As much as we would love to scratch the sorrow and pain of loosing him away, we can’t. Mike not being here has impacted us greatly and it’s painfully difficult. Still. We are so aware of his absence, his physical presence missing here, in our daily life.

Time does not erase the memory of him. Or the loss of him. We’re simply learning, with the passage of days, months, years, how to live without him. Maybe time will permit us to be better at that. I hope so, because scraping Mike’s image off every photo we can find, certainly won’t.

In the days ahead, I pray I can find the wisdom to help my son’s heart know this. And mine too.

A Widows Prayer

Good Morning Father. I’m awake.

Another day, and my first thought as always, is he’s gone.

Still.

His side of the bed unruffled.

Comforter flat and wrinkle free.

Pillows smooth and in place.

Here I am without him.

Again.

I can’t do this widow thing.

But You can.

I can’t do this single mom/caregiver of a grown son with disabilities thing.

But You can.

I don’t have enough faith.

But You do.

I am without hope.

But You’re not.

I’m not strong.

But You are.

So I will push this blanket back.

Put my legs over the side of this bed and my feet on the floor.

I will stand and get ready for whatever this day brings.

I’d rather pull this blanket over my head and stay right here.

But You’re with me.

He’s not here.

But You are.

Thank You for never abandoning us.

You and Your Son have not forsaken me and mine.

You have and are everything I need.

I place my trust in You.

We will do this day together.

Here we go.

Who Decides!?

There’s a battle raging in the UK right now over the life of a little boy. Eleven month old Charlie Gard was born with a rare genetic disorder which, up to this point, has not allowed him to go home. Charlie’s parents have raised over a million and a half dollars to bring him to the USA for an experimental treatment in a New York hospital .

The Pope has even offered to bring the child to a Vatican pediatric hospital in Rome, but the UK hospital took the parents to court and a judge ruled, along with the medical establishment, that Charlie will have no ‘quality of life’ and therefore deserves the right to ‘die with dignity’. He will not be allowed to leave the facility.

I’m trying to decide if this is the evil side of socialized medicine or the reprobate minds of medicine playing god. Maybe it’s both. Since when does a hospital get to tell parents doing everything possible to help their baby, “NO!”?

The term ‘quality of life’ is thrown around extensively in relation to disability. Somehow people in the mainstream, think they have the right to decide what quality of life looks like, acts like and is. It’s one thing if we want to decide this for ourselves and possibly our own loved ones but when we start forcing our definition on others, there’s a problem.

Those of us who love kids with special needs, quickly learn what quality of life really means. They bring quality to life in all the ways that matter most, helping us redefine life’s priorities. All the shiny, glittery attractions that spell success in the world begin to pale as we share life from their point of view.

My son, Jon is content living life his way, though it may not be conventional or understood. When those of us considered ‘normal’ start deciding those considered ‘not normal’ have no right to exist…well, if we know history, we also know where this thought process leads.

Charlie’s parents should be allowed to and applauded for doing everything they can to help their child. If he doesn’t survive that will be God’s decision, not man’s, which is exactly how it should be.

Please pray for the family of little Charlie Gard.

On Whose Lives Matter

The topic of lives that matter has been at the forefront of news lately, so I might as well add another group to the fray, one that receives little to no headlines, attention or protests.

In 2013, Robert Saylor, a man with Down syndrome died of asphyxiation after three off duty policemen moonlighting as security guards, restrained him to the floor in handcuffs when he refused to leave a movie theater. His caregiver’s pleas for understanding were apparently disregarded when Robert wanted to see the movie again.

Last week, Arnaldo Rios Soto, a man with autism, watched police shoot his caregiver on a Miami street. Arnaldo had wandered from his group home carrying a favorite metal toy truck in his hand. Someone called the police when they saw Arnoldo, describing him as a man with a gun, acting erratically. His caregiver, Charles Kinsey, was trying to coax him out of the street to safety when police arrived. As Kinsey tried desperately to explain Arnaldo had autism and the object in his hand was a toy truck, an officer discharged his gun at Arnaldo shooting Kinsey instead.

Police officers have protocols to follow and tough judgment calls to make based on their best assessment of a situation and the developmentally disabled rarely fit the cooperation profile. During one of Jon’s wandering episodes he was handcuffed and held in the back of a police car when he failed to answer an officer’s questions or supply his name. To the untrained, the developmentally challenged can be perceived as dangerous and they experience more misunderstandings with police than any other population.*

This week in Tokyo, Japan, Satoshi Uematsu a former employee of a residential facility for the disabled, broke in during the night and stabbed nineteen sleeping people to death and wounded twenty five more. Earlier he had written a letter that stated, “all disabled should cease to exist,” and “the disabled can only create misery.”

The first people exterminated during Hitler’s ‘purify the race’ campaign were not Jews, but the disabled or feeble minded, as he chose to label them. Our Jon would have been the first to die, had we been alive in that decade. It seems no population is exempt from injustice and violence in a world where human hearts trade fear for discernment or choose evil over righteousness.

A recently released movie, “Me Before You,” based on the novel by the same name, is a fictional story of a handsome, athletic young man from a wealthy family who is spine injured in an accident and becomes a paraplegic. It’s meant to be a tear jerker romance, but, of course, I found myself watching this story through the filter of disability and its connection to the value of a human life. The final message of the movie was disappointing, (spoiler alert!) the life of a disabled person is not worth living so the young man travels to Switzerland to die by assisted suicide.

Significance is defined as the quality of being important, large enough to be noticed or have effect or influence, to be worthwhile, valued. Everyone longs to matter. WH Auden, a poet from the 1930’s wrote, “..for who can bear to feel himself forgotten.”

We celebrate celebrity, worship achievement, want to be a ‘somebody’ and leave our mark on the world; a bigger than life personal graffiti wall that boldly states “I was here!” Our culture glorifies importance based on many factors: success, fame, wealth and influence, to name a few.

Disability that achieves the earmarks of worldly success is glorified, but not all disabled persons contribute in ways others consider worthwhile. Does this make their lives less valuable? I don’t have answers to all the tough questions about disability in the world, but our answer to the question of value usually depends on our worldview.

This is mine: “God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness..” (Genesis 1:26) and “the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul” (Genesis 2:7).

If we believe God is the creator, author and beginning of all human existence, there can never be any doubt all lives matter. When Jesus told us to “love your neighbor as you love yourself” (Mark 12:3), He didn’t offer any exceptions, in fact He stated no other commandment was greater. He gave the example of two people groups embroiled in a cold racist war with one another in the parable of The Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37), to illustrate what this love looks like.

Violence is a heart issue and will never be resolved until these words of Jesus are understood in the heart of every person and become standard practice.

If we are breathing God’s air on this planet He made, His life is in us, regardless of race, color, gender, preference, ability and age; we are His precious treasure. What others see when they look at us, our outward appearance, is only the packaging for the treasure inside and the wrapping, as beautiful as it might be, is never valued over the gift it holds.

We are significant because God thought we were worth creating. He paid for our life with His, and extends nail scared hands to all humanity as proof of His investment in us and as a personal guarantee that we are top priority.

Jon matters. You matter. I matter. God said so.

And that should be good enough for all of us.

Psalm 139:14-16 “I will give thanks to You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Wonderful are Your works, And my soul knows it very well. My frame was not hidden from You, When I was made in secret, And skillfully wrought in the depths of the earth; Your eyes have seen my unformed substance; And in Your book were all written The days that were ordained for me, When as yet there was not one of them..”

Psalm 22:10 “I was placed in your care from birth. From my mother’s womb you have been my God.”

*”Disabled people are four to ten times more likely to face violent crimes than the general population, including police violence, sexual assault, hate crime, bullying, robbery, and murder. According to the recent Ruderman report on media portrayal of police violence towards people with disabilities, at least one third to one half of all police violence cases covered by the media involves the disability community. ~ “#BlackDisabledLivesMatter vs #AllDisabledLivesMatter” by Pharaoh Inkabuss, blackautist.tumblr.com~

The Unapplauded Hero

I met a Hero the other day.

She is twenty five years old.

She’s put aside her own hopes and dreams to care for a chronically ill family member.

She’s had to quit her job because the care needs are so time consuming.

At an age when she should be having fun, dating, building a future, career or a family of her own, she cares full time for someone in need.

She cries when no one is watching.

She wonders what the future holds.

She worries what will happen to her loved one.

She worries what will happen to herself if something happens to her loved one.

She feels guilt for wanting more.

She doubts God at times.

Her faith wavers even as she continues believing.

She is a full time caregiver. Someone desperately needs her. She is there.

She is learning at a young age the hardship and beauty of a laid down life.

If you are a single young man you might want to consider a woman like her.

She won’t have much time to date, but she certainly knows about loyalty, selflessness and love; all the qualities that make a great spouse.

She’s the unapplauded in the background. One who performs the mundane today, tomorrow and the next day.

But mundane is greatness when executed so selflessly.

Those who are faithful in little things will be rewarded with much (Matthew 25:23, Luke 16:10).

She will be honored for her faithfulness.

Man may overlook.

But God sees.

He sees it all.

He sees her.

She is brave.

She is strong.

She is incredible.

And He calls her Beautiful.

Should All People With Developmental Disabilities Be Free to Make Their Own Choices?

“People with even the most severe disabilities have the right to make their own decisions, no matter if their choices are risky or ultimately turn out to be mistakes, a United Nations panel says in new guidelines to nations.”

Read about it here; another bureaucratic idea that looks great on paper (especially one with such vague language it can be interpreted a zillion ways) but won’t work in reality.

Here are a few reasons why:

1. I believe everyone should have freedom of choice and some developmentally disabled folks are quite capable of making good choices on their own. Guardianship is still an important safeguard for those who can not. Such a loose policy that attempts to place everyone in the same category is foolish if not dangerous.

If Jon was allowed to make all his own choices he would never take his meds, shower or change his clothes, get a haircut, go to the doctor or dentist. He would most likely wander off down the street never to be seen again.

2. Someone has to pay for those choices. Who? The UN? Government budgets, both federal and state are tight. Wait lists are long. “Nationally, almost 317,000 people remain on waiting lists for home and community-based services…based on data from 2012, the most recent year available.”

Even those who receive disability funding usually can’t afford costly housing and other expenses for their disabled family member. Money and services are limited depending on geography and families are often one income earners or struggling single parents because someone has to be at home for the caregiving.

3. Are all parents and caregivers devoted and loving? A small percentage may not be, but these loosely worded conventions can be a slippery slope that eventually steamroll families and caregivers who most love and best know those they care for.

Someone in a far away office, creating regulations about our children’s lives and ultimately our own lives doesn’t sit well with most. I can’t help but wonder who the ‘supporting decision makers’ would eventually be.

4. “Article 12 of the Convention affirms that all persons with disabilities have full legal capacity.” It’s not clear if this translates to persons with limited mental function who commit a crime being tried as any other adult? Will no special consideration be afforded those with diminished understanding? I doubt anyone wants our over burdened prison system to become the new residential facility for the disabled who break the law.

The United States signed the United Nations Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities, as did hundreds of other countries, but so far has been unsuccessful in ratifying it.

So many blanket statements and one-size-fits-all propositions exist in this treaty, I would hope Congress and The Senate would review it with common sense reservation and revision, demanding specific definition of terms and then consider if it needs to be ratified at all.

There’s certainly a great need for improvements in servicing our disabled population but shouldn’t it be done on state, local and national levels instead of by international regulation? For those of us who believe in the sovereignty of the United States, and all other nations, the answer should be clear.

The Top Ten Emotions of Parents Raising Children with Disabilities

I’ve joined a Facebook page called PROWD (Parents Raising Offspring with Disabilities), that defines itself as being “birthed out of the needs of those involved in caring for children with special needs and disabilities. It is intended to be a “family” who support, network, and assist one another on their journey.”

It gives parents of children with disabilities a place to receive support and encouragement from each other, a place to share victories big and small, to unload and get real about the challenges caring for a disabled child brings without fear of judgment or criticism, a place to not be alone in our struggles, to swap treatments, coping skills, helpful ideas and to find other parents locally for forming personal relationships if desired.

Parents from all over, dealing with all types of disabilities and kids of all ages frequent this page. It is an online support group for people who expend so much time, energy and emotion on never-ending care, attending a literal support group would be impossible.

Recently someone on the page posed this question to parents: What is the primary emotion that outweighs all others in your household?

The following are the top ten out of one hundred and twenty eight responses:

Frustration 35

Love 20

Loneliness/Isolation17

Anger 16

Anxiety 16

Worry 14

Stress/Tension 13

Tired/Exhaustion 12

Fear 10

Overwhelmed 8

The majority of fear responses were related to the child’s future and what will happen when the parent is no longer able to care for him/her.

Some of the lesser rated responses were inadequacy, guilt, sadness, uncertainty, restricted and even depression. There were some positives as well: laughter, hopeful, thankful, proud, happy, peaceful and it was good to see love at the top of the list.

We love our kids no matter what other emotions raising them may evoke, but no one denies parenting is some of the hardest work we do in life. All parents feel all these emotions at various stages of the child rearing years. The commitment and dedication required is both relentless and rewarding.

For the parent of a disabled child, these emotions can be constant and life long. Some research studies have shown parents of kids with special needs are under the same stress as a combat soldier, especially in cases of severe autism or multiple diagnoses both medical and cognitive. These parents are often in a state of high alert, short on sleep and unable to take time off to relax and unwind.

The stress load is a recipe for disaster for caregivers who worry about everything except themselves.

If you’re out somewhere and see a child exhibiting poor behavior, don’t assume the child is just a “brat” and the parent isn’t doing their job. Give the benefit of a doubt and remember there may be more to the story than what you’re observing.

If you are blessed to know someone who parents a child with disabilities take a minute to encourage them. You needn’t tell them they’re special (usually not feeling that) or angels (usually not being that) or any of the other “cliche” statements often made, just give them a hug and tell them what a great job they’re doing.

And don’t forget to pray. Ask God to fill them with strength and endurance far beyond their own.

Your acknowledgement, encouragement and prayer could be the reinforcement that carries a struggling parent through another day.

A Tale of Two Kingdoms

Disney has changed it’s theme park leniency for disabled guests because of the behavior of a few able bodied folks who decided to exploit the kindness extended to those who rely on it.

Apparently families with disposable income have been hiring disabled people or those who pretend they are, to take advantage of Disney’s policy, allowing disabled guests to move to the front of attraction and ride lines.

http://articles.orlandosentinel.com/2013-09-27/business/os-disney-disabled-guests-policy-20130926_1_walt-disney-world-radiator-springs-racers-disney-california-adventure

It’s been a few years since we’ve visited Disney’s Kingdom, but when our boys were young we went frequently. It was one of the perks of living in Central Florida.

Jon who walks agonizingly slow, could handle about an hour on his feet, before he’d had enough and would plunk down on a sidewalk, in the middle of a walkway or a long line, refusing to get up. A few times we had to circle him to keep him from being trampled.

He also gets irritated when jostled in a crowd and would bolt to find a quiet corner of refuge until everyone around him disappeared and we missed show times and ride starts because of it.

Eventually, we decided to rent a wheelchair and later bought one to bring along, which made our outings to Disney more fun and hassle free. The wheelchair got Jon and us through the park faster and the ability to go to the front of the line helped us avoid Jon’s crowd aversion.

Under Mickey’s new policy, families are now going to have to go to Fast Pass kiosks and come back to events at start times. For families who have kids with mental delays, autism and medical issues this could be the tipping point of a “just not worth it” way to spend a day.

Paying hefty per person admission has been a bad deal for most of our families who usually can’t spend an entire day at the park anyway. We’re fortunate to get several hours in before an issue that is part of our normal every day life forces an exit. This add-on will only delay already precious time.

For some, ‘The Happiest Place on Earth’ might not be as happy as it once was thanks to a few who used something not meant for them to their own advantage.

Disney has taken the posture of the school teacher who punishes the whole class for what one kid did. But many policies of business, government, public systems and service have originated from the abuse of a few and prove the far and wide ripple effect our actions have on others.

It’s not fair. Unfortunately is it not unusual, and originates back to the beginning of time.

All the way back to the Garden of Eden.

Romans 5:18-19 tells us, “..just as one trespass resulted in condemnation for all people, so also one righteous act resulted in justification and life for all people. For just as through the disobedience of the one man the many were made sinners, so also through the obedience of the one man the many will be made righteous.”

The sin condition started with the disobedience of Adam and Eve and all of us were affected.

Jesus came to cure us, to offer a way out, a solution, an escape.

I doubt The Magic Kingdom will budge on this new policy change. Their interest in profits will outweigh the needs of their disabled customers.

But the top priority of Jesus is people. Me and you. He came to rescue the sick and the lost.

His life, death, resurrection and ascension, enacted a divine policy for free admission and an eternal pass to hang out in God’s Kingdom.

No waiting in line. No disability. No wheelchairs. No pain. No crying. No guilt. No shame.

No worries about missing out or someone stealing our place in line.

And to think, all we have to do is believe in Him. Because of Christ we are special, we are loved, we are blessed.

I have my admission ticket.

How about you?

“…the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Romans 6:23

, “For the Son of man is come to seek and to save that which was lost.” Luke 19:10

, “… the Son of man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and to give his life a ransom for many.” Matthew 20:28

Recycled Dreams

Have 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.”

A Place Called Special

a look inside a special life