by Helen D

Although I’m spending a lot of days and nights by myself these days, I’m not focused on hearing God much of the time. When I heard the next Day with Jesus retreat was scheduled to be at Claremont’s Santa Ana Botanical Garden, I signed up.

The focus of the day was on “slowness”…rethink the urge to schedule every moment of the day and allow yourself a margin of time between activities to allow God into your day. In a quest for efficiency, many of us feel most purposeful when we follow an agenda. When will we hear God if we’re frantically rushing around? I was convinced “slowness” is something to consider and apply to my life.

Yesterday, my brother in law Bill and I decided to have lunch at Stonefire Grill. We could barely open the door to get in at 12:15 pm, prime lunch hour for workers from nearby offices. The customer in front of us told us…”It won’t take long; they’re very efficient.”  After we ordered our food and found a table, I saw her walk past us, and felt the urge to ask her to join us. My next thought was: “What if she thinks I’m weird/intrusive?”  Sad to say, I listened to that little voice and did not invite her to sit with us.

After the meal, we decided to stop in at Trader Joe’s next door. As soon as I picked up a basket, who did I bump into but the same lady? “Are you following me?” she jokingly asked. We laughed, and I inquired “What job do you have that gives you the time to eat lunch out and have time to go shopping for groceries, too?”  “I’m retired!” she answered, and went on to explain that she lives close enough to walk over from her home, on XYZ street. “No kidding, I know someone that lives on that same street!” Miss P (she gave me her name) asked who it was, and turns out it’s a neighbor she knows from their annual block party. I met our mutual acquaintance at Bible Study Fellowship, and the same person invited Miss P to attend our Thursday sessions. We chatted a bit more, and I was left feeling regretful that I missed out on an opportunity to make a new friend over lunch. But God arranged for us to meet in spite of my reluctance.

A divinely appointed moment…

by Helen D
 

This February, I am still missing Jeff, but am comforted with the knowledge and assurance that he is enjoying being in the presence of our Lord. In this last year, I have been so blessed in unexpected ways.

Visitors came by…always asking when was the best time. They talked about good times, gave us helpful advice from their experience, and prayed with us. We even enjoyed a private harp recital courtesy of someone stretching their comfort zone to offer us a special treat.

We received food…although no meal plan/rotation was ever used, meals would appear just as the fridge emptied out. Folks would call/drop by and say…”You came to mind today, and I thought you might like to eat this.” You could tell the meal was thought out…sometimes requiring several stops or other advanced preparation. No matter, it was tasty, and even better when the visitors were able to stay and share the meal with us.

Cards and emails came from people we haven’t been in touch with for ages. I would read “Although I haven’t seen you around, just wanted to let you know that you’re in my prayers and that I’m thinking of you daily.” Sometimes our branch would be asked to remember Jeff specifically for a upcoming procedure, or to fast…showing sacrificial love for one another. We were also blessed by the volunteers who came by weekly to share a Bible study with us. Thank you, brothers and sisters.

Early one morning before Christmas, I went outside to pull a few weeds. I heard a car pull up and footsteps approaching. When I looked up, I was surprised to see a large poinsettia plant approaching on two legs. Miss A had intended to play “Santa” and leave the plant and some goodies on the front porch with no card, but was shocked to see me out there! I told her God was gracious to me, because the mystery of the unknown benefactor would have nagged at me.

The other thing that amazes me about receiving these blessings is the timing…just as we needed something, it would appear. Many of you know that a fellow Evergreen SGVer offered his services as a nurse to help us through this time, with no expectation of repayment. He said “I wanted to bless you as I have been blessed by Evergreen SGV.”

It is my hope that you will be moved to stretch your comfort zone and take steps to reach out and bless someone.

A moment to consider opportunities…

If I could sum up in one word what life is like with our special-needs daughter, I would say “slow.” Everything is slow. Getting dressed is slow. Going to the bathroom is slow. Eating is slow. Talking is slow. Walking is slow. In fact, “slow” has taken on a whole new level of meaning. We knew when we adopted her that the adjustment would be slow, but we did not know then what “slow” would really mean.

As Anah’s vocabulary of English words has increased (slowly), along with her ability to communicate in speech and sign language, one of our favorite lines has become “Wait for it…” If you’ve seen Disney’s animated film Bolt, you know that line comes from the silly pigeons who say it when they want to pause for dramatic effect. So it’s our attempt to inject some humor into what would otherwise be an often frustrating process.

The reason for that line is because when you greet Anah or tell her to say “please” or “thank you” or whatever, usually her response doesn’t come out right away. And sometime you can see it coming, almost in slow motion—her mouth starts to form the shape for the sound, her hand lifts to do the sign for it, and then she “freezes” there for a few seconds while the brain catches up with the body…and then with a big smile the word finally comes out of her mouth while her hand completes the sign. So it’s in that long, pregnant pause that we say “Wait for it! It’s coming…”

The slowness of life with Anah is showing me how impatient I can be. When I’m heading out the door to the office and I say goodbye to my family, everyone else says “Bye!” right away and I don’t even have to break my stride. But with Anah I have to come to a complete stop and wait for a whole 20 seconds until the “B-b-b-b-bye!” comes out. When I’m finishing up her evening bathtime routine and getting her pajamas on, if she takes a few seconds longer to gain her balance so she can lift up her leg and put her pants on, I tend to snap irritably at her and try to hurry her up. When she’s with me running errands and I’m pressed for time, I find myself resenting the extra few moments it takes for her to climb out of the car and trudge with me into the store. In those moments, “Wait for it…” becomes a mirror, revealing my impatient heart.

In our instagram culture, where soft drink companies blatantly tell us to “Live for Now,” the slowness of special needs can chafe and frustrate. But God’s Word is clear—our best life is not now…we have to wait for it. And so the waiting that comes with loving our children (special needs or not) is “practice” for the waiting that we must endure as we long for our Father to bring us Home. And “The Lord is not slow to fulfill His promise as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance.” (2 Peter 3:9)

So wait for it…it’s worth it!

In Him,

Pastor Dan

Have you ever had appendicitis? How about tonsillitis? Bursitis? Never had any of them? Me neither…

What about individualitis? Ever heard of that one? I hadn’t either, until I heard a talk by a British pastor named Andrew Wilson, who preached from Nehemiah 3 about “Individualitis and the Dung Gate”. I’m not in the habit of forwarding links to messages on Vimeo, mainly because I rarely find the time to watch or listen to them myself, but I’ve listened to this one twice now and have been deeply encouraged (and challenged!) by it.

So if you—like I—have ever struggled with feeling “just ordinary”, or if you’ve wondered what difference it’s making in the world for you to change another diaper or write another report or take your wife out on a date, then maybe you need to listen to this message as much as I did.

And whether or not you listen to it, here’s a quote to chew on… “Individualitis is dangerous because it strips us of the dignity of the ordinary.”

Watch the whole thing here: http://vimeo.com/66556909#

In Him,

Pastor Dan

“God, I can’t do this!”

Uttered silently in my mind, or sometimes muttered aloud through clenched teeth, this has become one of my most common prayers in the past eight months. Usually it feels more like a complaint than a prayer, but most of the time it is quickly followed by a plea for help and a request for grace and strength.

No, it usually doesn’t come before preaching a sermon or teaching a class or counseling a friend, or the majority of my pastoral duties (though probably it should). Instead, it comes as I clean up another mess or gear myself up for the daily toothbrushing adventure or say for the billionth time “Drink your milk all gone!” or get pulled (literally) in to another game of catch.

Parenting a special-needs child is teaching me to be helpless. It’s teaching me to pray.

Paul Miller is the author of a wonderful book called A Praying Life. He is also the father of a severely autistic girl named Kim. I read his book a couple years ago and it was very influential in my thinking and practice of prayer. I’ve been re-reading portions of it in the months since our return home from China with our Down Syndrome daughter, and it is hitting home in a far deeper way now than before.

In his chapter entitled “Learning To Be Helpless,” Miller writes:

…it dawned on me recently that I had never prayed for [Kim] or with her that she would stop pacing. Why? Because I already knew the solution: “Kim needs to stop pacing. I will tell her to stop pacing.” In other words, I didn’t feel helpless. I knew what to do. I call this the idiot approach to life. In other words, “You idiot, if you would just stop…”

Little children are good at helplessness. It’s what they do best. But as adults, we soon forget how important helplessness is. I, for one, am allergic to helplessness. I don’t like it. I want a plan, an idea, or maybe a friend to listen to my problem. This is how I instinctively approach everything because I am confident in my own abilities.

The gospel, God’s free gift of grace in Jesus, only works when we realize we don’t have it all together. The same is true for prayer. The very thing we are allergic to—our helplessness—is what makes prayer work. It works because we are helpless. We can’t do life on our own.

I am fairly confident in my parenting abilities. After all, I have three other children whom I have instructed and disciplined and nurtured through all the various stages of childhood. So I can do parenting OK. I don’t need to pray because I know how to make things happen.

Enter: Anah Joy Christian (whose name “Anah” incidentally means “God has answered”). Exit: all my parenting “wisdom” and “expertise”. How do you teach an 8-year-old with Down Syndrome to quickly drink her milk because everyone else has been finished with the meal 30 minutes ago? She doesn’t understand our English words. She probably doesn’t like the taste of milk (but she can’t tell us that). You can force milk into her mouth but it is impossible to force anyone to swallow. She doesn’t comprehend the concept of rewards and isn’t motivated by treats. Raising your voice and scolding and lecturing and threatening just gets a blank look in response. Cajoling and encouraging produces smiles but little action. Pray? But I don’t need to pray—I know what needs to happen. Anah needs to drink her milk!

Back to the clenched teeth complaint: “God, I can’t do this! I don’t know how to teach this girl. I am not able to love her like You do. I am so impatient. I am so unkind. Forgive me (again!) <sigh> Please help me.”

Anah is teaching me to be helpless. Anah is teaching me to pray. Thank You God for my precious daughter. Thank You God for Your persistent grace that daily confronts my sin and reminds me how much I need You.

In Him,

Pastor Dan