In a Toronto waterfront encounter, a friend navigates the delicate balance between good intentions and genuine understanding. A neighbor's well-meant prayer in the rain, though misguided, calls for authentic empathy, reflecting a deeper compassion we should embody
Christina Minaki reflects on the complexities of faith, compassion, and disability. She grapples with the misconception of disability as infirmity and challenges the narrow definition of divine intervention. She advocates for a broader understanding of healing and embraces the profound purpose within disability.
I cannot always come last because that isn’t showing true love. It may seem simple and obvious but I have struggled with this concept for a long time. When there’s a never-ending stream of crises, it can be hard to remember the necessity of putting yourself at the top of the list sometimes.
It was an accessible restaurant for a couple of years. Dion and I would occasionally go, entering through a door that was both wide and street-level. One day we arrived to notice that the door was locked. I went around to the other side of building to discover that they had reconfigured the space.
One day in November, I experienced Chris’ anticipation in full. We had arrived at a local mall. Walking in the door, at the end of a very long hallway we could see Santa’s giant decorative red chair set up in the centre of the atrium. Chris exclaimed “ho-ho!” and took off running toward Santa’s throne.
My life as a follower of Christ helps me in my work at Christian Horizons. My work at Christian Horizons helps me in my life as a follower of Christ. I think the confidence and miracles that Peter demonstrate in the first bit of Acts is because he knew who he was following; he knew from whom his confidence came. And I think we focus a lot on leadership and not enough on followership.
I am having a bad day at the group home, the sort of day where I find myself drafting resignation letters in my head. There is too much to do, and [Read More]
Supporting a person with a developmental disability to grieve is not a matter of coming alongside, but of remaining where we already were.
The technicians had very kindly broken the rules and allowed me to stay with him in the room, but I was still outside of the tube. I had the freedom of my limbs. The noises the machine made were not inches from my ears. I called encouraging words to him inside the tube, but they were just more sounds. So I did the only thing I could think to do. ...
So much of what we do on a daily basis we do without qualifications. We walk through every conceivable season of a person’s life with them because we are the ones who happen to be present when the call comes.