Note: I didn't mention in the original post, Discrimination, that the incident happened at church. I didn't want to anger or embarrass anyone with my musings. I mention it now because I'm proud of the people there and the turn around that I've already seen with just a little education.
Eon went back to class, today, and was warmly welcomed. It was a different teaching team and they were not "warned" ahead of time that he would be there, but they took it completely in stride and were glad to have him.
Before we left for church, I told him that he needed to sit still for story time in his class. "Uh-uh," shaking his head no. "Yes, you will. You have to sit down and listen during story time." "Uh-uh," again. "Eon, if you don't sit still for story time, you will not go to your class." Big, big sigh, and then, a resigned, "Gah." (Yeah.)
He sat still for story time.... Of course, he took his shoes off about four times during the class. (Baby steps...:)
It happened to be a "Celebration of Giving" Sunday in which all of the little kids parade in front of the congregation to drop their coins into a bucket.
It thrilled me to see him be a part of it, marching to the front with his peers and dropping the money in (with prompting:). At the same time, it saddened me a bit to think there might be others watching and thinking he shouldn't be there, but he'll prove them wrong.
After chuch, one of the teachers, an older gentleman, that had issues with Eon's presence last week approached me and asked me how to relate to him. I explained that Eon is just like any other three-year-old boy who is new to the class and doesn't know the routine. He just needs some closer supervision and guidance, but he'll get there. He seemed very concerned that he didn't know how to communicate with Eon. I explained that, even though he doesn't have very many words, he understands everything we say to him. He seemed surprised by that. He finally asked me what health concerns he has and what he should watch out for. He was visibly surprised when I replied, "None. He's perfectly healthy."
Then it was his turn to surprise me, "Sounds like I just need to spend more time with him and get to know him."
Exactly. I could have kissed him!
A class coordinator apologized to me over the whole fiasco from last week. In talking with her about it, I mentioned that I had been tempted to just go to another church that already has a special needs ministry. She responded, "Oh, don't leave! That would just make it easier for us, and easy is not what we need. We need to learn!"
Wise words. She's right. They do need to learn.
But so do I.
This experience has taught me the value of standing up for my son with humility, that most people have good hearts, that change can occur rather quickly when people want to learn, that sticking out the hard times in community is worth it, and that I should have taught Eon to put shoes on before I taught him to take them off. :)
This kid continues to teach us all.
Sunday, April 22, 2012
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Discrimination
Discrimination. The dictionary defines it as: making a distinction in favor of or against, a person based on the group, class, or category to which that person belongs rather than on individual merit.
One problem with those who discriminate is that they usually have no idea that they are doing it.
My child was discriminated against this week, although I doubt the parties involved would recognize it as such. People in authority made a distinction against him because he has a disability. Rather than saying what they thought to be true, that he is unteachable and can't learn the routine or the rules, they couched it in acceptable terms and turned it back onto themselves..."We are not equipped to handle special needs." But I see it for exactly what it is.
It's not about their abilities...it's about his. Or rather, their assumption of his lack of abilities.
They were scared. I see that now.
They're from a different era, when those with differences like Eon's were pitied or safely hidden from view.
They are also people who value control and structure. Eon was a threat to that. They thought he'd be unpredictable...that he might say or do something beyond their control. Rather than engage him and treat him like the three-year-old boy that he is, they cowered and became defensive.
We are not equipped to handle special needs.
Thankfully, there was someone else in charge. This person has taken the time to know Eon. She believes in him. She stood up for him, uncovered the fear, and challenged their response.
She also successfully talked this mama-bear down. I'll be honest. I wanted to turn tail and run, never to return. She showed me that I need to stay and educate. I will do what I can.
Ultimately, it's Eon that's going to change hearts and expand minds.
One problem with those who discriminate is that they usually have no idea that they are doing it.
My child was discriminated against this week, although I doubt the parties involved would recognize it as such. People in authority made a distinction against him because he has a disability. Rather than saying what they thought to be true, that he is unteachable and can't learn the routine or the rules, they couched it in acceptable terms and turned it back onto themselves..."We are not equipped to handle special needs." But I see it for exactly what it is.
It's not about their abilities...it's about his. Or rather, their assumption of his lack of abilities.
They were scared. I see that now.
They're from a different era, when those with differences like Eon's were pitied or safely hidden from view.
They are also people who value control and structure. Eon was a threat to that. They thought he'd be unpredictable...that he might say or do something beyond their control. Rather than engage him and treat him like the three-year-old boy that he is, they cowered and became defensive.
We are not equipped to handle special needs.
Thankfully, there was someone else in charge. This person has taken the time to know Eon. She believes in him. She stood up for him, uncovered the fear, and challenged their response.
She also successfully talked this mama-bear down. I'll be honest. I wanted to turn tail and run, never to return. She showed me that I need to stay and educate. I will do what I can.
Ultimately, it's Eon that's going to change hearts and expand minds.
Sunday, April 8, 2012
PTL for friends who help!
My friend, Christie, herself an adoptive momma, graciously offered to hold an online Scentsy fundraiser for our adoption! This is a win-win! If you order a Scentsy product, a percentage of your purchase goes directly to our adoption fund. So, you get a great product and an orphan gets closer to coming home.
So, click on the link and shop, shop, shop! :)
Or, if you prefer to skip the shopping and just give directly, that's always welcome, too. :) Just click on the Chip In on the right side of the blog.
Please don't forget to pray...for us, our child, and the funds. Thank you SO much!
So, click on the link and shop, shop, shop! :)
Or, if you prefer to skip the shopping and just give directly, that's always welcome, too. :) Just click on the Chip In on the right side of the blog.
Please don't forget to pray...for us, our child, and the funds. Thank you SO much!
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
Oh child of mine in a land beyond the sea...
I don't know what makes you smile,
or if you've ever had a reason to.
I know you probably don't cry.
Are your eyes blue like the ocean,
with spots and flecks like Eon's?
Or the color of mud and mine?
Do you run and play outside,
or do they keep you in a dark room?
Have they ever let you try?
I spend my days wondering what you are like
and what you'll think of me.
Have I lost my mind?
Will you watch me with wonder
or drop your gaze in fear?
You don't know what mama means.
Will you let me hold you
or will you want to know me slowly?
I'll try to be patient.
When our eyes finally meet,
Will my heart melt with instant devotion?
or will love need time to kindle?
So many unknowns, so many worries, so many fears.
But this I know: God sees. God knows. God cares.
And this: You are wanted. You are loved. I am coming.
Hold on, little one. Hold on.
or if you've ever had a reason to.
I know you probably don't cry.
Are your eyes blue like the ocean,
with spots and flecks like Eon's?
Or the color of mud and mine?
Do you run and play outside,
or do they keep you in a dark room?
Have they ever let you try?
I spend my days wondering what you are like
and what you'll think of me.
Have I lost my mind?
Will you watch me with wonder
or drop your gaze in fear?
You don't know what mama means.
Will you let me hold you
or will you want to know me slowly?
I'll try to be patient.
When our eyes finally meet,
Will my heart melt with instant devotion?
or will love need time to kindle?
So many unknowns, so many worries, so many fears.
But this I know: God sees. God knows. God cares.
And this: You are wanted. You are loved. I am coming.
Hold on, little one. Hold on.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Nonsensical and Weak
"What?!?"
"Why would you want to do that?"
"What about your other kids?"
"You're already busier than most. Why would you add more on your plate?"
"Why don't you just have another one of your own?"
These are some of the reactions we've received when people find out that we're adopting a child with Down syndrome from the country of Serbia.
I've answered most of these questions in a previous post on adoption that was written almost a year ago. Go on, click on it and read it. I'll wait. :)
Everything except the last paragraph is still true, today.
Our circumstances have changed and we are moving forward to adopt, currently working on our home study. I wrote in my last post on this subject a few months ago that I couldn't choose our child from a picture and my good friend, Christie, suggested we look into adopting from Serbia, as they only do blind referrals. Our first step was to send our bio info to the Ministry of Adoption and see if they would overlook our already large family size and let us start the process. They agreed.
So now we're sharing our good news and getting the above responses. Each and every time, I find myself grasping for a succinct answer that reflects our hearts, but doesn't bore the listener or sound like I'm justifying myself and my choices. (That's really hard to do. So much easier to write things...with the delete and backspace buttons, than to speak them.)
Sometimes, people actually are judging us and our choices and I get a little flabbergasted. My pride rears up and I want to assure them that we know what we're doing. (Even though, we really don't. ) Most of the time, though, people are genuinely curious and I can appreciate that.
I think my problem lies in that, to me, it's very simple:
But, of course, in the simplicity is a whole host of complexity.
If I'm simple in my response, I'm thought to be too cavalier and have, obviously, not thought this through. They have no idea the tears, the endless calculations, the constant-can't-shut-them-off-thoughts that swirl through my brain at all hours, the deep discussions, and the what-ifs that have all conspired against our pursuit of this child that we've never met. They have no idea that our faith in Jesus teaches us to do the hard things, to put aside our selfishness, to help widows and orphans, and to care for the least of these. They can't comprehend that we really do feel blessed to have the privilege of parenting Eon. We welcome the opportunity to parent another kid like him, even if there are additional health concerns or behaviors.
We have counted the cost (as we know it...I've mentioned before that no one can accurately predict the future.) We've found our reasons not to go through with this to be lacking when confronted with the life of a child.
If not us, then who?
God purposely chose what the world considers nonsense in order to shame the wise, and he chose what the world considers weak in order to shame the powerful. I Corinthians 1:27 (GNT)
Nonsensical and weak. I guess we qualify.
"Why would you want to do that?"
"What about your other kids?"
"You're already busier than most. Why would you add more on your plate?"
"Why don't you just have another one of your own?"
These are some of the reactions we've received when people find out that we're adopting a child with Down syndrome from the country of Serbia.
I've answered most of these questions in a previous post on adoption that was written almost a year ago. Go on, click on it and read it. I'll wait. :)
Everything except the last paragraph is still true, today.
Our circumstances have changed and we are moving forward to adopt, currently working on our home study. I wrote in my last post on this subject a few months ago that I couldn't choose our child from a picture and my good friend, Christie, suggested we look into adopting from Serbia, as they only do blind referrals. Our first step was to send our bio info to the Ministry of Adoption and see if they would overlook our already large family size and let us start the process. They agreed.
So now we're sharing our good news and getting the above responses. Each and every time, I find myself grasping for a succinct answer that reflects our hearts, but doesn't bore the listener or sound like I'm justifying myself and my choices. (That's really hard to do. So much easier to write things...with the delete and backspace buttons, than to speak them.)
Sometimes, people actually are judging us and our choices and I get a little flabbergasted. My pride rears up and I want to assure them that we know what we're doing. (Even though, we really don't. ) Most of the time, though, people are genuinely curious and I can appreciate that.
I think my problem lies in that, to me, it's very simple:
- There's a child who has no one.
- I am someone.
- He/she can have me.
But, of course, in the simplicity is a whole host of complexity.
If I'm simple in my response, I'm thought to be too cavalier and have, obviously, not thought this through. They have no idea the tears, the endless calculations, the constant-can't-shut-them-off-thoughts that swirl through my brain at all hours, the deep discussions, and the what-ifs that have all conspired against our pursuit of this child that we've never met. They have no idea that our faith in Jesus teaches us to do the hard things, to put aside our selfishness, to help widows and orphans, and to care for the least of these. They can't comprehend that we really do feel blessed to have the privilege of parenting Eon. We welcome the opportunity to parent another kid like him, even if there are additional health concerns or behaviors.
We have counted the cost (as we know it...I've mentioned before that no one can accurately predict the future.) We've found our reasons not to go through with this to be lacking when confronted with the life of a child.
If not us, then who?
God purposely chose what the world considers nonsense in order to shame the wise, and he chose what the world considers weak in order to shame the powerful. I Corinthians 1:27 (GNT)
Nonsensical and weak. I guess we qualify.
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Words
"Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me."
Except...that's not really true, is it?
Death and life are in the power of the tongue. Proverbs 18:21
Words are powerful. They can bring hurt or healing. They can encourage or destroy. They can change the course of a life through inspiration or demoralization.
At times, words are so powerful that they are physically experienced and not just merely heard.
I experienced a word recently. I was in my safe place, church, at a Cub Scout meeting. I was waiting to speak with a friend. An acquaintance of mine was sharing a story with her about her son's visit to the pediatrician. Apparently, there had been some early worries about his development. The latest visit confirmed that all is fine. She concluded her story with, "Don't tell me my kid is going to be a retard!"
I was stunned. The air was sucked from my lungs in a startled gasp as I recoiled from the word. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't hear what else was said because of the over-powering "wooshing" sound in my ears and the thumping of my own heart. I wanted to escape, to be anywhere but there, but my feet were planted to the spot. For several seconds that felt like hours, I stood stock still and breathless, trying to regain my senses. When my faculties returned, I pivoted sharply and walked away to find, hold, and inhale my boy.
I never said a word to the acquaintance.
I've spent some of each day since, trying to sort out my feelings and make some sense of the incident.
When I posted about it in my group for mothers of kids with Down syndrome, they were ready to lynch the woman.
When I shared the experience with my friends without a personal connection (other than Eon) to intellectual disability, they were quick to defend her.
Neither response felt right to me.
She's a funny gal, the kind that will build a story to the inevitable punch line. She enjoys the lime light and being the life of the party. In short, she's a lot like me. While I never would've used the term "retard" as a noun, even before Eon, I have, at various times, stuck my foot in my mouth and crossed a line for a laugh.
At the same time, I don't think writing off her actions as "uneducated" is the way to go, either. Uneducated implies that she really had no idea the word is offensive, and yet, something tells me that if a young adult with Down syndrome had been standing there, she would've spoken differently.
I've been told that she certainly didn't intend to cause pain. Apparently, I'm not supposed to be offended if the intent was benign. But the crux of it is that it really doesn't matter if I was offended, at all. This journey that we're on is not about me. This is Simeon's trail. I am a participant and a spectator, but I am not the star. What really matters is the answer to this question: How is my son going to feel when he encounters that word at around the age of twelve or so? Will her intent matter then?
I don't want to have to educate Christians in hopes that they will no longer use hateful words.
I simply want us to no longer be hateful.
But it starts with me.
As I was ruminating on my hurt, I remembered a potent example of an instance where I marginalized people for a laugh. The story is here. Funny, right? Except, I shared that story, complete with punch line, in a group that included a 17-year-old girl whose siblings are all half, who lives in a mobile home, and who has most probably been called that very thing.
Funny thing about words. Once they're spoken, you can't ever take them back, no matter how horrified you are that you chose to speak them in that precise moment.
If anyone thinks he is religious and does not bridle his tongue, but deceives his heart, this person's religion is worthless. James 1:26
I am too often guilty of worthless religion.
He who has knowledge spares his words, and a man of understanding is of a calm spirit. Even a fool is counted wise when he holds his peace; when he shuts his lips, he is considered perceptive. Proverbs 17:27-28
Too often, I open my mouth and prove myself the fool.
...for out of the abundance of the heart, his mouth speaks. Luke 6:45b
I need a heart change.
Reckless words pierce like a sword, but the tongue of the wise brings healing. Proverbs 12:18
Gracious words are like a honeycomb, sweetness to the soul and health to the body. Proverbs 16:24
This. I want this...when people experience my words, I want to them to feel sweetness and find healing. I want them to bask in love and acceptance. I want my religion to mean something. I want to speak life.
Will you join me? Will you determine to stop using reckless words that pierce like a sword? Will you put aside your own need to be right, your need to be funny, your need to make it all about you and let this be your prayer, too, as I'm making it mine?
Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O LORD, my rock and my redeemer. Psalms 19:14
Except...that's not really true, is it?
Death and life are in the power of the tongue. Proverbs 18:21
Words are powerful. They can bring hurt or healing. They can encourage or destroy. They can change the course of a life through inspiration or demoralization.
At times, words are so powerful that they are physically experienced and not just merely heard.
I experienced a word recently. I was in my safe place, church, at a Cub Scout meeting. I was waiting to speak with a friend. An acquaintance of mine was sharing a story with her about her son's visit to the pediatrician. Apparently, there had been some early worries about his development. The latest visit confirmed that all is fine. She concluded her story with, "Don't tell me my kid is going to be a retard!"
I was stunned. The air was sucked from my lungs in a startled gasp as I recoiled from the word. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't hear what else was said because of the over-powering "wooshing" sound in my ears and the thumping of my own heart. I wanted to escape, to be anywhere but there, but my feet were planted to the spot. For several seconds that felt like hours, I stood stock still and breathless, trying to regain my senses. When my faculties returned, I pivoted sharply and walked away to find, hold, and inhale my boy.
I never said a word to the acquaintance.
I've spent some of each day since, trying to sort out my feelings and make some sense of the incident.
When I posted about it in my group for mothers of kids with Down syndrome, they were ready to lynch the woman.
When I shared the experience with my friends without a personal connection (other than Eon) to intellectual disability, they were quick to defend her.
Neither response felt right to me.
She's a funny gal, the kind that will build a story to the inevitable punch line. She enjoys the lime light and being the life of the party. In short, she's a lot like me. While I never would've used the term "retard" as a noun, even before Eon, I have, at various times, stuck my foot in my mouth and crossed a line for a laugh.
At the same time, I don't think writing off her actions as "uneducated" is the way to go, either. Uneducated implies that she really had no idea the word is offensive, and yet, something tells me that if a young adult with Down syndrome had been standing there, she would've spoken differently.
I've been told that she certainly didn't intend to cause pain. Apparently, I'm not supposed to be offended if the intent was benign. But the crux of it is that it really doesn't matter if I was offended, at all. This journey that we're on is not about me. This is Simeon's trail. I am a participant and a spectator, but I am not the star. What really matters is the answer to this question: How is my son going to feel when he encounters that word at around the age of twelve or so? Will her intent matter then?
I don't want to have to educate Christians in hopes that they will no longer use hateful words.
I simply want us to no longer be hateful.
But it starts with me.
As I was ruminating on my hurt, I remembered a potent example of an instance where I marginalized people for a laugh. The story is here. Funny, right? Except, I shared that story, complete with punch line, in a group that included a 17-year-old girl whose siblings are all half, who lives in a mobile home, and who has most probably been called that very thing.
Funny thing about words. Once they're spoken, you can't ever take them back, no matter how horrified you are that you chose to speak them in that precise moment.
If anyone thinks he is religious and does not bridle his tongue, but deceives his heart, this person's religion is worthless. James 1:26
I am too often guilty of worthless religion.
He who has knowledge spares his words, and a man of understanding is of a calm spirit. Even a fool is counted wise when he holds his peace; when he shuts his lips, he is considered perceptive. Proverbs 17:27-28
Too often, I open my mouth and prove myself the fool.
...for out of the abundance of the heart, his mouth speaks. Luke 6:45b
I need a heart change.
Reckless words pierce like a sword, but the tongue of the wise brings healing. Proverbs 12:18
Gracious words are like a honeycomb, sweetness to the soul and health to the body. Proverbs 16:24
This. I want this...when people experience my words, I want to them to feel sweetness and find healing. I want them to bask in love and acceptance. I want my religion to mean something. I want to speak life.
Will you join me? Will you determine to stop using reckless words that pierce like a sword? Will you put aside your own need to be right, your need to be funny, your need to make it all about you and let this be your prayer, too, as I'm making it mine?
Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O LORD, my rock and my redeemer. Psalms 19:14
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Happy Birthday, Eon!
Three years ago (and 1 week...this post is a bit late), our world was forever changed with the birth of our third son, Simeon Israel. We knew we had a 5% chance of hearing he had Down syndrome and yet, I honestly never gave it a thought during labor and delivery.
The words, "He has characteristics of Down syndrome," before I even had a chance to hold him, rocked me to my core. While we recovered quickly, I will never forget the raw fear that overwhelmed me in that moment.
Now, three years later, I often wonder what all the fuss was about. :)
Eon is, as promised, "more alike than different". Like any 3-year-old, he loves Blue's Clues, playing cars, going to the park, and babies. His favorite foods are pizza and french fries. He can mess up a room in 20 seconds flat and he has no fear of heights. He loathes time-outs, but would rather sit there longer than sign "sorry" to the person that he's wronged. He fights and fusses every time I wash his hair, but willingly stuck his face in the kiddie pool fountains when we were on vacation last week.
He has a personality that is all his own and makes us laugh on a daily basis.
His newest thing is to shush us every time he doesn't like what we have to say. "Eon, pick up your toys." "Shhhh!" "No, Eon. No cookies before dinner." "Shhhh!"
If we continue in our madness, he'll stick out his arm in a "talk to the hand" move he's perfected. Cracks me up every time. I find myself wishing I could do that to people when they annoy me, too. :)
That being said, he is different. Not in a negative way, just in an Eon way. Hard to say what is Down syndrome and what is just him.
He is a good eater for the most part, but he's very suspicious of food if it looks different than what he's used to and will often not even try it. For example, he will not eat a square cracker. You can tell him it's a cracker and he will sign it, but if you hand it to him, he will turn his head away and refuse to let it near his mouth. If a cookie is not round with chocolate chips or cream in the middle, good luck getting him to try it! I have no idea.
He loves music from media, but he hates it if we sing or dance near him. I love to sing and do it all the time, but he will yell at me if I sing around him. Here's a nice pic of him while we were singing "Happy Birthday." I promise we were not that bad. :)
The quirky things about this kid only serve to deepen our appreciation for him. He has changed our lives by expanding our world. We are indebted to him. But don't tell him that. He'll want a later bed time. Shhhh!
The words, "He has characteristics of Down syndrome," before I even had a chance to hold him, rocked me to my core. While we recovered quickly, I will never forget the raw fear that overwhelmed me in that moment.
Now, three years later, I often wonder what all the fuss was about. :)
Eon is, as promised, "more alike than different". Like any 3-year-old, he loves Blue's Clues, playing cars, going to the park, and babies. His favorite foods are pizza and french fries. He can mess up a room in 20 seconds flat and he has no fear of heights. He loathes time-outs, but would rather sit there longer than sign "sorry" to the person that he's wronged. He fights and fusses every time I wash his hair, but willingly stuck his face in the kiddie pool fountains when we were on vacation last week.
He has a personality that is all his own and makes us laugh on a daily basis.
His newest thing is to shush us every time he doesn't like what we have to say. "Eon, pick up your toys." "Shhhh!" "No, Eon. No cookies before dinner." "Shhhh!"
If we continue in our madness, he'll stick out his arm in a "talk to the hand" move he's perfected. Cracks me up every time. I find myself wishing I could do that to people when they annoy me, too. :)
That being said, he is different. Not in a negative way, just in an Eon way. Hard to say what is Down syndrome and what is just him.
He is a good eater for the most part, but he's very suspicious of food if it looks different than what he's used to and will often not even try it. For example, he will not eat a square cracker. You can tell him it's a cracker and he will sign it, but if you hand it to him, he will turn his head away and refuse to let it near his mouth. If a cookie is not round with chocolate chips or cream in the middle, good luck getting him to try it! I have no idea.
He loves music from media, but he hates it if we sing or dance near him. I love to sing and do it all the time, but he will yell at me if I sing around him. Here's a nice pic of him while we were singing "Happy Birthday." I promise we were not that bad. :)
The quirky things about this kid only serve to deepen our appreciation for him. He has changed our lives by expanding our world. We are indebted to him. But don't tell him that. He'll want a later bed time. Shhhh!
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