Disabilities and Church
This morning I read this article: It's the hidden disabilities that keep kids out of church. It took me back to my own experience.
When the boys were young and we were living in Traverse City we attended a well known church. They had a disabilities outreach program for the hearing impaired and my Aunt and Uncle were friends with the head pastor and his wife. We weren't particularly active members, but we had attended for more than a year when the incident happened.
I had taken Tyler to church and Bryan was home with Logan who was sick. I was in a very fragile place emotionally. I was contemplating divorce, and was overwhelmed with a lot of things. During the music portion Tyler bumped his chin on a chair and started crying. I took him back to the nursery for his age group and returned to the sanctuary. Soon his number popped up on the screen and I went back to check on him. He was still fussing and I decided I should just leave.
In the hallway the pastor's wife stopped me and flat out said "We are not equipped to handle kids like that". Like what? Crying? She went on to say they didn't have enough volunteers to have one person dedicated to taking care of Tyler (he couldn't walk at that point). Basically, "we don't want you here". I was stunned. Shocked. I don't remember what I said in response. I clearly remember walking out to my car, buckling Tyler into his car seat and sitting in the parking lot sobbing. I had just been kicked out of a church because of my disabled child who had done NOTHING wrong.
The pastor and his wife did come to our home later that week and he apologized. She however sat there stoically and said nothing. Not a word. I never went back.
For a long time I didn't share this story because I didn't want to "hurt" Christianity. Well, that particular church deeply hurt me. My son was born at 24 weeks gestation, weighing 1 lb. 5 oz. So many people and churches across the country had him on prayer chains storming the gates of heaven for his life. He survived and is an absolute delight. But, this church couldn't see the ministry right in front of them.
If they had asked how to help him (and me) I would have answered. I'm a joiner/helper/organizer, and if they had asked if I would help them in the nursery, I would have. If they had asked me to help set up a program, I would have. Instead I was turned away.
Now, all churches are not like this. Many have developed wonderful programs for the differently-abled. But, articles like the one linked above point out that things haven't changed as much as I'd like to think.
Disabilities that cannot be seen are hard. It's easy to give grace when you see a wheelchair, or a walker, or a cane. It's harder to give grace to the person acting out of line when there isn't a visual cue that there is something a little different about them.
Jesus hung with the undesirables of society. The religious leaders rejected him. While now I can look back and say "it's their loss", I will never forget the pain I felt at that time. If you lead a church, or a nursery, or any kind of outreach, I hope you will take the time to ask those around you who have family members with disabilities what they need. Sometimes it's just a break - an hour in a sanctuary to let our souls heal.
When the boys were young and we were living in Traverse City we attended a well known church. They had a disabilities outreach program for the hearing impaired and my Aunt and Uncle were friends with the head pastor and his wife. We weren't particularly active members, but we had attended for more than a year when the incident happened.
I had taken Tyler to church and Bryan was home with Logan who was sick. I was in a very fragile place emotionally. I was contemplating divorce, and was overwhelmed with a lot of things. During the music portion Tyler bumped his chin on a chair and started crying. I took him back to the nursery for his age group and returned to the sanctuary. Soon his number popped up on the screen and I went back to check on him. He was still fussing and I decided I should just leave.
In the hallway the pastor's wife stopped me and flat out said "We are not equipped to handle kids like that". Like what? Crying? She went on to say they didn't have enough volunteers to have one person dedicated to taking care of Tyler (he couldn't walk at that point). Basically, "we don't want you here". I was stunned. Shocked. I don't remember what I said in response. I clearly remember walking out to my car, buckling Tyler into his car seat and sitting in the parking lot sobbing. I had just been kicked out of a church because of my disabled child who had done NOTHING wrong.
The pastor and his wife did come to our home later that week and he apologized. She however sat there stoically and said nothing. Not a word. I never went back.
For a long time I didn't share this story because I didn't want to "hurt" Christianity. Well, that particular church deeply hurt me. My son was born at 24 weeks gestation, weighing 1 lb. 5 oz. So many people and churches across the country had him on prayer chains storming the gates of heaven for his life. He survived and is an absolute delight. But, this church couldn't see the ministry right in front of them.
If they had asked how to help him (and me) I would have answered. I'm a joiner/helper/organizer, and if they had asked if I would help them in the nursery, I would have. If they had asked me to help set up a program, I would have. Instead I was turned away.
Now, all churches are not like this. Many have developed wonderful programs for the differently-abled. But, articles like the one linked above point out that things haven't changed as much as I'd like to think.
Disabilities that cannot be seen are hard. It's easy to give grace when you see a wheelchair, or a walker, or a cane. It's harder to give grace to the person acting out of line when there isn't a visual cue that there is something a little different about them.
Jesus hung with the undesirables of society. The religious leaders rejected him. While now I can look back and say "it's their loss", I will never forget the pain I felt at that time. If you lead a church, or a nursery, or any kind of outreach, I hope you will take the time to ask those around you who have family members with disabilities what they need. Sometimes it's just a break - an hour in a sanctuary to let our souls heal.
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