Following God, even to church

I want to follow God anywhere, even if that means I have to go to church. 




He has called me and created me to love people with developmental disabilities and their families, given me a group of people to call my own. He has given me a history filled with pivotal experiences that shape my future in profound ways. He has given me a unique attitude and sense of justice that cause me to fight when others flee and correct when others ignore. He has shown me that all people can come to Him. All people can know Him and be known. He came to seek and save the lost, not the perfect, the lost. 




And He has lead me from an unknown, tiny, country church that meets once a month in a small conference room to a popular urban mega church that's meets across the Central Valley on multiple campuses for multiple services. 




I loved it at my country church. I was comfortable there, safe and at rest. After more than 10 years He began to stir in me a desire to move to a new church. I didn't want to go. At all. But He gently nudged me inch by inch until I found myself open to the change. I couldn't believe it. I looked around and thought somehow I had been forced and should be revolting, throwing a tantrum. But all I was doing was picking my jaw up from the floor. He hadn't forced me. He doesn't do that. He guided and I followed. I didn't see it coming but He wasn't surprised even a little bit. 




I get to support two 4th grade boys who have Down syndrome, one on Wednesday night and the other on Sunday morning. They challenge me, help me, love me, and let me teach them about Jesus. They are my reward for going to church each week.







"Because He lives I can face tomorrow", even if that includes being part of a mega church.

Naming the elephants in the room

A couple weeks ago I had the following text conversation with a friend. It started with a sincere compliment and quickly turned into hilarity... 

I love that I can always count on you to say it. Whatever it is, at any given time. 

The elephants in your rooms have names.

Names like Blanche and Hector?

Haha. You need to write a blog about naming your elephants.

Get them out from under the rug and introduce them to everyone.

Yes! Blanche and Hector!!

Hector has a mustache and hat. It's quite amazing.

Totally

Blanche carries one of those little purses and has on lavender heels

Oh my word! Yes!

And she trumpets out both ends.

HahahahahaHA!

Good thing hector lost his sense of smell in the war

And he can't see that she's gained 100 lbs and her flowered dress has faded

He just sees her beauty

Aw. That and he lost an eye in that other war

That was a tough day. He doesn't like to talk about it

But Blanche likes to bring it up all the time

Lol. Oh man. Just put this conversation in your blog as a starter.

Ordinarily, I'm not an advocate for naming things. I think names are for people and pets, not things. My car doesn't have a name, neither does my tv, or my boat. (Although that's mostly because I don't own a boat.) The idea of naming the elephants in the room has been rolling around in my mind and it's really growing on me. Naming them won't give them undue power. I suspect it will do quite the opposite and bring healing and hope. It will also bring laughter and, dare I say, joy. So it might be time to follow my friend's lead and start making introductions...

Meet Burt the Troll, Mr. and Mrs. McGillicuddy, Boris, and Travis the Tree, keeper of the Enchanter Forest. Bios to come.

I love Nathan. 

I love that he talks to me and I almost always understand him. 

I love that he tells me things he won't tell anyone else. 

I love that he asks me questions about how I'm doing. 

He listens and he remembers. 

When he understands something, he shows it. 

When he loves someone, he tells him or her. 

When he cares about you, you know it. 

When he wants to greet you, it doesn't matter what is between you, he will forge through it and he will greet you. 

If you laugh at his joke, like his music, or cheer for a team, he will tell it again, play it again, and cheer with you every time he sees you. If the interaction was successful once then he believes it will be the next 100 times. 

Rooms brighten, smiles appear, voices get louder, and high fives abound when he walks in. He is not inhibited or detoured by the chance of there being awkwardness. He stomps past the awkward and goes straight to the comfortable. 

He is also embarrassing, confusing, infuriating, and depressing but who isn't? :)

He's a beautiful mess who's life I celebrate and thank God for (almost) every day. 

Happy Birthday Brother. 

Over Forty Three Years of True Love

He saw her from across the crowded cattle truck that was about to take their youth groups up the mountain to Hartland Christian Camp. Nudging his friend, he pointed at her and said, "I'm gonna marry her some day." They were in 6th grade. He was convinced she was the one and she didn't know he existed.

Their senior year of high school he grew his hair out. Not shoulder length or anything (don't get crazy). He just went from a crew cut to a short cut. It was a matter of maybe an inch but it made all the difference because, as legend has it, she finally noticed him.

Five years later, on December 19, 1970, they got married.

And oh the fires their marriage has been through in those 43 years. I don't need to go into detail but suffice it to say, they had 3 "wonderful" children whom God used to refine them in ways I'm sure they never could've imagined.

They chose each day who they would serve and who they would love. My parents set and maintained their priorities: God, each other, and then us kids. We were never first or second on the list and that is a huge part of why they are still in love today.

Happy Anniversary Mom and Dad! You're the best parents I've ever had! :)

Heaven and Earth: The difference is a head tilt

With the slightest adjustment of my gaze, from looking below the horizon to looking above it, everything changes. 

All it takes is a head tilt and the things of earth really do grow strangely dim and out of focus.

And then I blink.
And find myself looking down again.

But, I'm reassured right before the blink that heaven is real and that in the twinkling of an eye we'll all be home.

Skydiving = ________? You fill in the blank.

I was looking through my nightstand and a paper fell out. I unfolded it to find these words. They apply to so many subjects…


I want to go skydiving. I really, really do. How many years have I been saying that?! 10? 12? I want to face my fears, be adventurous, and do it already!

Or do I?

I do the research, pay the deposit, talk to experts, and set a timeframe. I even tell people about it. Everyone's excited and supportive, EAGER for me to have this experience.

I'm nervous. Well, terrified actually. Turns out when given the opportunity, I'd rather stay in the plane where it feels safe and familiar. I like it up here, flying solo, it's what I've done for years and I'm pretty good at it. At least I'm good at acting like I'm good at it. I'm afraid of failure, embarrassment, and rejection. So I stay on the plane.

I think I need a push, a swift kick, someone to shove me out, or maybe a hand to hold on the way down. But I abhor feeling forced, pressured, or guilted into doing anything. My stubborness wells up in me like a flame that refuses to be extinguished. I resist even the most appealing, deepest desire of my heart. Why? Out of fear. Self defense. Protection.

I think I'm guarding my heart but what I'm really doing is sitting on a plane talking about how much I want to go skydiving.

Waiting in Line is Hard

Waiting in line is hard. I've never met anyone who loves to wait in line and certainly can't imagine there being a person who hopes to get as close as he can to the back of the line. Well, unless the line is leading to something horrible. But I'm talking about lines for desirable things, lines that we have a choice about being in. The line I'm talking about is the one leading to "The happiest place on earth", Disneyland.

I read an email today that sent me on a journey without a clear destination. The email was about Disneyland changing it's policy about who they give special passes to and why. The email spelled out ways that the special passes have been used and abused. People have faked being disabled and have taken advantage of a loophole that was designed to help people who literally cannot wait in lines.

Waiting in line for a ride at Disneyland is not as fun as riding the ride but most people can handle it. They wait 2 hours because they understand that there is a payoff at the end that they believe will be worth the wait. Most people are able to endure the long lines and still have the capacity to fully enjoy the experience of riding the ride. Most people.

Now try standing in that same 2 hour line with my brother Nathan or with someone else's sibling who has an 'invisible' diagnosis like say autism. Try waiting in line with them and I bet that after about 10 minutes you will wish one of things: either they should be let on the ride before you or you should be let on first. Either way someone needs to get some sort of pass to make the crying stop so that we can go back to believing we are all happy.

Should all the people capable of waiting in lines be punished for their ability by having to wait longer? Should people without that particular ability get to be rewarded for their disability by being allowed to walk right onto the rides? 

Are those the only two perspectives?

When I was 19 years old I asked my parents if we could go to Disneyland. I thought it would be fun now that Nathan and I were adults to experience the magic. Actually I thought it'd be fun to get on all the rides without having to...wait in line. Well, well, well...look at this pot calling the kettle black. I wanted to take advantage of my brother's disability. My motivation wasn't for Nathan to have a good time. It was all about me and how I wanted to have a good time. I had this feeling that I would finally benefit from Nathan's disability. Finally! 

My plan totally backfired on me though because the only ride Nathan wanted to go on was Autopia. The one where you pretend to drive cars around a track and the only thing you have any control over is the gas pedal. The only rule is not to bump into the car in front of you. There were workers spaced out throughout the track to remind and enforce this rule. If you bumped the car in front of you, then  you could be kicked off the ride. Guess what Nathan called the ride? Yep, The Bumper Cars. And guess what he did every time we rode it (which was often because we didn't have to wait in line)? He bumped the car in front of him! "YOU CAN'T DO THAT! IT'S AGAINST THE RULES NATHAN!" I would yell and he would laugh. "YOU'RE GONNA GET KICKED OFF THE RIDE NATHAN! YOU CAN'T BUMP THE CAR IN FRONT OF YOU!" I would scream and he would act like he couldn't hear me.

The workers heard me though and they could tell something was different about him and me. And they would give him a free pass to bump people. It was an accident. He didn't do it on purpose. WHATEVER! I wanted him to get kicked off the ride so that he would be forced to ride Splash Mountain with me. 

That plan backfired too. big surprise.

I was mad at him about that trip for years after it was over. I hated the fact that he refused to go on rides that I wanted to go on. He refused to let me use his disability for my own selfish gain.

Okay, maybe he wasn't thinking that deeply but he also didn't care that I was mad at him. Every time I brought it up he would just turn his head and wave his hand at me like I should get over it. He didn't care to hear about it any more. His attitude only fueled my selfish fire.

So today, when I read the email about people finding a way to take advantage of the special pass and using people with disabilities for their own gain, I must admit, I was impressed. Not outraged. Typical sibling response. 

But I was also faced with the fact that the special pass does actually enable people to enjoy Disneyland and that without it they would not be able to go on any rides with lines (which pretty much covers all of them!). As an advocate for people with disabilities, I'd say check out the petition that can be signed here.  

Standing in line is hard but there's no need to make it harder. Maybe getting to the front of the line first isn't the only goal in life.