He was middle aged, had Down Syndrome, and spoke no English, but he said hello and quickly answered my introductory question about how long he had worked in that shop.  I apologized for not understanding his answer and he realized that I was at a disadvantage in this conversation. 

Mirabel Madrigal does not have a visible disability but many people with disabilities may relate to her in some ways. [...] The Madrigal family initially characterizes Mirabel as “unexceptional,” and “not special.” [...] people with disabilities are often characterized in opposite terminology, being referred to as “special” or “exceptional.” However, the premise of the distinction is similar

Caregiving is one of the hardest things there is to do well. Second to it in difficulty is writing about caregiving well.

It is a weekday morning, and I am present, here in this beautiful place in this good company, and I am doing my job. These are not stolen moments, but given ones, gifts we have given to one another.

Then the pandemic hit and everything moved online.  Our church hosted multiple online ways to connect: Zoom calls, online teaching, podcasts, Instagram and Facebook communities, virtual camp, book clubs, park meetups, subscription boxes and more.  I could fully integrate into the life of our church community and it was wonderful.

Even if the statistics were less significant, accessibility should still be a priority considering that Jesus taught us to go out of our way to accommodate 1, rather than 99 sheep. Many churches do not make decisions which demonstrate that even one sheep matters.

When such assumptions concerning the connection between faith and chronic illness or disability do not pan out over the long term, they may lead some people with disabilities and their families to a fork in their spiritual journeys. Option one being the belief that “God is a real jerk.” Option two being the belief that “people with disabilities must be horrible people to deserve this much ‘extra punishment’.”

In my previous post I mentioned a man who recently died of COVID ... he was one of the first people I supported who did not use words to communicate, but clearly had much to say.

Because everyone experiences the loss. Everyone grieves. Whether you lived with the person, worked with the person, or knew them in passing, their departure leaves a hole in the community that is felt much farther than one might expect.

Every time someone dies we grieve. We mourn. We miss them. And then we move on.

Because there’s someone else who needs that space, who needs that funding, who needs that support, who needs our focus.