About Face

An Extracted Truth

2009-02-11T13:38:00.000-06:00

I was in the bathroom at work the other day brushing my teeth. I never wanted to be “that one.” You know the one who keeps the toothbrush in her desk and is in the bathroom after lunch uncouthly spitting toothpaste into the pricey marble sink? But there I was upon dentist’s orders to brush my teeth after “every single meal!”

I was given this directive (along with a lengthy laundry list of others) in order to avoid further irritating a riled up nerve in my mouth that is threatening to abscess. So there I was, leaning over the marble sink, the eyes of six-figure-salary manager looking on in disgust as I spit lather from my mouth like a commoner. “Why am I doing this?” I thought, wishing she would go away.

Why? Easy answer -- pain. Lectures from my dentist, common sense, memories of past root canals, and pricey dental bills all failed to force me into that bathroom to brush my teeth in front of my peers previously. A throbbing tooth provided me all the motivation that I needed. I realized that God often has to deal with us this way. We know we should not do something, but we suppress our common sense, warnings from others, and past consequences and continue in our sin. How often does our behavior go on unchanged until the pain of abscessing sin exposes the raw nerve in our heart? “That hurts!” we say, and the behavior is altered.

Thinking the little analogy would go no further, I was surprised that same night, over dinner that the metaphor took on even more depth. The dentist had also instructed me to “baby” the left side of my mouth. I had made a pizza that night and after the first bite, I realized it was baked perfectly -- just like I liked it. It tasted SO good! But after a few bites, I realized that I was very frustrated. In trying to keep all the food off my abscessing tooth, the food was not really hitting my taste buds. My nose smelled the food, a taste bud here or there was catching a little taste…but because I was not fully rolling it over all of my mouth, I was not satisfied.

I realized again how much that is like our spiritual walk. We try to live these compartmentalized lives. We push our spiritual stuff into the corner just under the tongue – enough for survival and brief moments of taste, but far enough away from our sin so as to not remind us that area of our heart is rotting.

We say we want to taste Jesus – but we don’t really want to take a huge bite and roll him all over our tongue. Because when the conviction of the Spirit hits that raw nerve that is painful! So we avoid the pain (or so we think) by “babying” our sin, and not letting Jesus touch that part of our heart. So while we have just enough of Jesus to keep our sustenance going, we do not have enough of him to say, “I have never tasted anything so sweet! I want more!”

This tooth is driving me crazy. It hurts. But now, each time I become aware of its throbbing, instead of complaining, I find myself marveling in the fact that God loves me so much, he can take something as simple as a toothache and use it as a means to point me to his glory. If we could train ourselves to see more of him in every little detail – we would be praising him all day long!

Again I say, "Rejoice!"

2009-02-09T11:32:00.002-06:00

"Blessed is the man whose strength is in thee who passing through the valley of weeping, make it a well" (Ps. 84:5, 6).

I have been thinking intentionally about joy lately. My middle name is Joy, and based upon the importance that Scripture seems to give to the meaning of people's names, I have begun to pursue joy with a new and deeper fervor than ever before. My mom did not originally intend to name me Vicki Joy. She decided upon the name only after I was born and determined that a spirit of victory and joy were the two main weapons I would need to get through life with a facial deformity. Because I have already seen evidence of these two graces manifesting themselves in my life, I am now engaging in an even more intentional pursuit of these fruits in my life.

But joy is an illusive thing. It is very easy to appropriate outward signs and indications of joy (laughter, smiling, telling jokes, being in a “good mood,” etc.) I have those disciplines over my physical body down pat. But my heart’s participation is another matter.

In my pursuit of joy, I have discovered several things:
· Joy is sometimes present, but manifests itself so quietly that it may go unnoticed
· Joy does not have to be loud, hyper, funny, raucous, or excited
· Joy does not come naturally – it must be intentionally pursued and fought for
· Joy can co-exist with sober-mindedness and sorrow
· Joy can be obtained on earth – it is not solely a promise for heaven

Hebrews 12:2 says, “…who for the joy set before him [Jesus] endured the cross…”

I believe joy can be mingled with sorrow. Jesus knew Scripture by heart, he had a flawless prayer life, he had godly friends, he faithfully attended the temple and gave his tithes…but none of these efforts carried his cross…joy did.

I don’t think joy is the absence of all pain and sorrow, I believe it is the catalyst that buoys us through them. Sorrow without joy breeds despair and hopelessness. Sorrow with joy breeds hope and strength.

Some have quoted to me the verse, “There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven…a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance” (Ecc. 3:1, 4) as a means to prove that joy comes and goes in phases.

But I do not believe joy and sorrow are intermittent stages in life, experienced independently of one another. 2 Cor. 9:10 says, "...sorrowful, yet always rejoicing." This indicates that joy does not abandon us, even when we weep, because our joy is not a mere temporal feeling that comes and goes with the fleeting pleasures of the moment. Our joy is rooted in things outside ourselves, namely God, and because God does not change, our joy need not wane.

But this doesn’t mean it isn’t a fight. At every moment, our flesh and minds will work against our quest. Temptations to grumble will meet us at every corner. We must battle these grumblings and our only sword is the Word of God. The promises in Scripture have the power to cut these negative thoughts and lies and fears into pieces. And so we must gird ourselves with truth if we portend to think we can make war with our joylessness.

My mom recently shared with me that she got a picture in her mind where she saw herself standing out in the rain. She lifted her arms into the air and tilted her head towards the sky and was catching all the dew drops on her face. When she opened her eyes, she noticed that written within every single drop of rain was the word “joy.” Then she told me, “I felt like the Lord was telling me that even though the rains may come, he wants to shower me with joy." And then she choked up and said, "...and you know what, even though I have Cancer, I have never been happier in my life.”

My mom is able to experience true joy in the midst of Cancer because there are gifts much greater (and much harder to obtain!) than a young, healthy body. In exchange for her health, the Lord has buoyed her up in her time of sickness with a vast army of intercessors, a husband who has risen to the occasion and is cherishing her as the wife of his youth, and she has been afforded a scenario that has allowed her to contemplate and experience the deeper benefits of hope and faith that can only be seen when life and all its temporal pleasures threaten to be taken away.

Joy doesn’t come from good health, it comes from the Lord, and sometimes we see the Lord most clearly when all the other promises have abandoned, deceived, or disappointed us. When health and life and good times fail us, we look around to see if anyone is left standing or if we are utterly alone. It is in these times that we see the Lord has remained standing. “I will never leave thee or forsake thee, for lo, I am with you always, even until the end of the age.” How can these words mean anything to us until we have been forsaken by all others?

I believe that heaven will usher in a kind of endless joy like we have never known, and a joy like we can never know here on this earth. But that does not negate Psalm 27:13-14, “I am still confident of this: I will see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living. Wait for the LORD; be strong and take heart and wait for the LORD.”

I like that David exhorts us to “be strong and take heart” – it indicates that for sinners to expect joy from a holy God takes faith. Waiting also increases the challenge because it is so easy to perceive a “wait” as a “no.” But the Psalmist encourages us to fight through the doubts and the guilt and the long periods of delay and to courageously continue to expect the goodness of the LORD on this side of heaven.

I do not believe, as many modern Christians do, that suffering is the appendix of the Christian body (namely, it is a spare part that we do not need and can merely cut it out and discard it once it begins to irritate us). I believe that suffering is as integral to the body as the blood flowing to our hearts. But I do not think embracing God’s disciplines and trials for our lives means resigning ourselves to morbid melancholy. Being morose is not a requirement (or sign) of holiness. We can be sorrowful, yet always rejoicing. That is what I am striving for.

Love Vs. Knowledge

2009-02-05T10:58:00.005-06:00

I was reading Ephesians 3:19 ("...to know the love of Christ which passes knowledge; that you may be filled with all the fullness of God") and something struck me.

I have always interpreted that verse to mean that the love of Christ "surpasses" knowledge...in other words, "it is too much for our feeble minds to comprehend." (And I do think that is what it means).

BUT, in the NKJV (above) it doesn't use the word "surpass" it uses the word "passes" and so the mental picture that slammed into my head as I read the verse was of two runners on a race track. One runner is Love and the other is Knowledge. They were neck and neck, but then Love, in a burst of speed, runs past Knowledge, leaving it in the dust, and goes on to win the race.

So, in addition to God's love being beyond our comprehension, perhaps this verse could also allow for the idea that the Love of God is SUPERIOR to mere knowledge of Him. We all know it is possible to have a complex understanding of theology and still miss the proverbial boat of knowing God.

A Poem

2008-11-17T09:13:00.003-06:00

This is a poem written by a friend of mine. She is 16 and has CP.

What It’s Like to be a person with a disability

(For those of you who aren’t)

It’s like fitting into the cracks of the wall

But not fitting in with the people

It’s being stared at

Because you don’t talk the same

Or dress the same

Or walk the same

It’s like walking through the halls

Invisible.

Eating lunch alone in the hall

Because you cant find

One of your close friends to eat with

It’s being picked last for a sport

Because they know you can’t hit the ball

It’s like going to years of therapy

Just to learn how to walk right

It’s like having braces on your feet

That doesn’t go with your cute outfit

It’s like having a small group of friends

Who are there for you no matter what

It’s like being a teenager in high school

It’s like deserving the same respect

As anyone else

I’m different

becauseI have a disability

But I’m still

A human being

Andrey Update

2008-11-14T14:22:00.004-06:00

I blogged back in 2006 about my trip to Kazakhstan where I worked for ten days in a few orphanages where disabled children lived. While there, we met Andrey -- a boy with a severe cleft palate that left a gaping hole in the middle of his face. After some pleading (and much prayer) the orphanage workers brought Andrey out to meet us. After our brief visit, we continued to stay in touch with Andrey and the orphanage workers and for two years prayed and waited for a way to bring Andrey to the U.S. for surgery.

He was able to come and stayed in Detroit for nearly a year, at which time, he underwent three operations -- all done gratis by the surgeon!

Andrey, his surgeon, and his host family (who are the friends I went to KZ with in 2006) are all featured in a video (link below) that was produced by a local news station in Detroit. You will have to copy and paste the link into your browser in order to view. The video is about five minutes long.

http://www.myfoxdetroit.com/myfox/pages/News/Detail?contentId=7851428&version=1&locale=EN-US&layoutCode=VSTY&pageId=3.5.1

I Love Cancer

2008-11-13T09:32:00.002-06:00

I was surfing the web recently trying to find some teal-colored cancer-awareness bracelets. In the end, I decided to just go to a bead shop, buy some teal beads, and make my own. Every site I stumbled across had bracelets with a phrase like, “I HATE CANCER!” engraved on it. My online shopping spree was the result of my mother being diagnosed with Ovarian Cancer about two or three months ago.

Rewind to about thirty years ago. I was 7 years old and my grandmother had just died. It was the first funeral I had ever attended. My first experience with death. I barely knew my grandmother as we lived out of state at the time. We flew back to MN to see “my grandma’s" funeral. The reason I put that in quotes is because in my child-centered world, she was a person of significance because of her relation to me. I was too young to realize she was attached to anyone else’s world.

At the graveside, I experienced something that profoundly changed my life. My mom began to cry (another first) and she was muttering through her tears, “Mama, Mama, don’t leave me, Mama….” I was very confused. Why was my mom calling my grandma, “Mama?” I tugged on the sleeve of her black sweater dress and inquired, “Mommy, why are you calling Gramma, ‘Mama?'” She leaned down and whispered tearfully into my ear, “Because your gramma is my mommy.” A light bulb went on in my head and I understood. But the light was immediately extinguished when seconds later the thought came, “Wait…if mom’s mommy can die…someday so will mine.” All of those Sunday school stories about Adam and Eve being shunned from the garden suddenly found its place in the real world….my world.

From that day on, I lived in fear of losing my mom. Many times as I got older, we would be sitting on the couch together and I would hold onto her arm or hug her and be thinking, “Appreciate this moment…some day she’ll be gone.” Taking advantage of every moment to not waste the time I had with her became an obsession fueled by fear. Thoughts would flash through my mind….me standing by a sliver blue casket crying, “Mama, Mama…don’t leave me…” would instantly evoke tears. I would pray, “God what will I do? How will I ever go on without my mom?”

Corrie Ten Boom’s now famous “train ticket” analogy would often be what got me through those times. I felt the Lord telling me that I did not need that kind of grace right now, but when I did, it would be there for me.

And so there I was, eight weeks ago or so, standing in a hospital room. Mom was in bed where she had been for nearly two weeks – growing weaker by the day. Dad stood at the foot of the bed. The colon surgeon was on the other side of the bed, across from me. She took out her clipboard and opened her mouth to speak.

“Cancer.”

It shot out of her mouth like a bullet – linguistic steel came thrashing towards me. I could almost see the word, spelled out, like a train of letters, barreling through the air straight towards my face. And then, a soft brush on my shoulder and a faint whisper in my ear, “Christ is a bigger C-Word.” And then, right as the bullet was about to crash into my face, it hit an invisible wall - the nail-piereced hand of Jesus - just millimeters in front of my nose. The word-bullet shattered and fell crashing to the floor.

It didn’t touch me. It couldn’t. It could not lodge into my heart, it could not reach my bloodstream, causing blood to rise and turn my face red. It could not reach my tear ducts to release hot salty tears and send them spilling over my eyelids. It could not touch my limbs, causing them to shake until I succumbed to sitting down. It could not touch me.

I stood there feeling like I was standing a foot off the ground – completely ensconced within a bubble of complete tranquility. I cannot say I didn’t feel anything, because that would infer shock or denial. I did feel something – and it was good. I felt the presence of Christ in that room and I felt no fear. Total, deep, and utter peace.

A lot has happened since that day in the hospital. Mom has started chemo, regained a lot of strength, and much of the original news (which predicted fatal results) have been downgraded. Lord willing, she will heal and go on with life.

Much of my childhood fear of losing my mom is now gone. I realize that if God was able to give me sufficient grace for a false alarm how much more grace He give me when it is truly needed.

And so, wearing a bracelet that declares, “I Hate Cancer!” would be the same as saying that I hate the sovereign work of mercy that God chose for my family’s good. Would a Christian wear a bracelet that declared, “I hate Romans 8:28!" No. So, I can honestly declare, “I love cancer!” -- because it ushered Christ into my family’s life in a very real way. It humbled us, it led to the tearing down of strongholds, it erased grudges, it invited serving one another in love, it strengthened family bonds, it increased personal prayer, it revealed self-centeredness and sin. It crushed my life-long fear of losing my mother and it taught me to trust wholly in the sufficiency of God’s grace to be there when I need it.

My parents and I take a lot of time now to talk about God’s goodness to us and we marvel at how graciously he has treated us. We feel more loved by one another and more loved by God than ever before.

The gift of Cancer is not that mom’s diagnosis has improved and that she will likely live. That foundation is sinking sand. If healing is my rock, it will eventually crumble. Fact is, if not now, at one point, my mother will die. The real gift of Cancer is the sin-killing, laser precision effect that it wrought in my family’s lives and nothing – not cancer, not death – can now take that gift away from us. It has been given, we have received, the transaction is complete.

Woman in Iron Lung for Almost 60 Years Dies

2008-05-29T09:37:00.002-05:00

I saw the most incredible story on the news last night about a woman in Tennessee who was diagnosed with Polio at three years of age. She spent her entire life (from three years old until 61) in an iron lung. She died recently due to a power outage at her home, caused by a tree that fell down on a power line.

To read more about her amazing life, go to: http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080529/ap_on_re_us/iron_lung_death

Or do a Google search for "Dianne Odell."

2008 Joni and Friends Family Retreats

2008-05-15T12:39:00.003-05:00

It's that time of the year again - summer family retreats sponsored by Joni and Friends!

This year, instead of the Oakwood retreat in Indiana, I will be attending the retreat in Minnesota.

Many of the retreats are still in need of STMs (i.e. volunteers!) Depending on which camp you attend, the STM registration fee is anywhere from $250-$350 (this covers cost of room, board, and materials -- it does not include any necessary travel or commute expenses). However, because you are considered a "short-term missionary" you can raise the funds as tax-deductible donations through family, friends, or your church's missions department.

If you would like more information, log on to www.joniandfriends.org and click on the "Get Involved" link on the left hand side of the home page. From there, click on "Family Retreats" under the Volunteer section. Included in that link are locations of each camp, prices, maps, photos of the retreat grounds, and contact and registration information.

Family retreat is by far the absolute highlight of my entire year. It is exhilarating being a part of such an amazing ministry. Being among the disabled is an inspiring experience. They display such remarkable faith, strength, resolve, and joy. And because these retreats are designed to give mom and dad a week of respite, you are also providing a massive gift to these kids and their families.

Do it!

New Blog & Possible Podcast

2008-05-15T12:29:00.002-05:00

Hi. I'd like to introduce all of you to my new blog: http://stdsavethedate.wordpress.com/. I plan to continue maintaining the About Face blog as well as each blog has its own unique audience.

The Save the Date blog is for girls between the ages of 12 and 16. I originally was going to focus just on an audience made up of girls with disabilities, but after much thought and prayer realized that the struggles that girls with disabilities face, while a bit more complex, at the core are very much the same issues all girls face.

The mission of Save the Date is to encourage girls to set aside dating until they have firmly rooted their self-confidence and identity in who they are in Christ. The pursuit of who we are in Christ is the first tier of the pursuit of holiness. Relationships, namely the pursuit of who we, together with another person, are in Christ, is the second tier in the pursuit of holiness. Much of what we see in today's culture is the result of girls jumping to tier two before tier one has been addressed.

Save the Date will have some very special guest bloggers, a possible accompanying podcast, as well as a variety of surveys, poetry, a bulletin board, a mailbag, bios, and much more!

A New Eugenics

2008-01-01T11:15:00.000-06:00

I have posted about eugenics in the past. The word eugenics is a compound word formed by the merging of two Greek words for "good" (eu) and "genes" (genics). Note the common prefix of "eu" (good) also used in the word Euthanasia ("good death").

In the past, eugenics included (but not restricted to) the practice of abortion and forced sterilization procedures. Today, it is taking on a whole new face. Frighteningly, what used to be deemed fascist - almost torture - is now something voluntarily embraced by the unborn's strongest ally - their parents.

In 1992, the March of Dimes conducted a survey. Their poll concluded that 11% of parents would would abort a fetus if their genome showed a predisposition towards obesity! Four out of five parents said they would abort a fetus if the child was going to grow up with a disability. 43% said they would use the genetic engineering available to them to enhance their child's physical appearance.

That was 1992 - this is 2008. What do these statistics look like now after 15 years of media influence? Films that glorify assisted suicide are handed Oscars for Best Picture -- when such tales, 50 years ago, would have sent our grandfathers to the battlefield and physicians to prison.

These March of Dimes statistics were found on page 183 of the book, "Does God Need Our Help? Cloning, Assisted Suicide, & Other Challenges in Bioethics" by John F. Kilner and C. Ben Mitchell. The book is a part of the Vital Questions series put out by the Center for Bioethics and Human Dignity. They also have a website and a daily (free) downloadable podcast. Their website is: http://www.cbhd.org/

"The word "compassion" comes from the joining of two Latin words meaning "suffering with" - which is precisely what we stop doing when we encourage or participate in assisted suicide or euthanasia" (Kilner & Mitchell, p. 134). [Author's note: or abortion or genome-influenced genetic interference].

Right to Life or Duty to Die

2007-12-10T20:06:00.000-06:00

Al Mohler contributed to the duty to die discussion back in August in his article entitled, A Threat to the Disabled...and to Us All.

"Disability rights activists understand that this same logic threatens persons with disabilities. When does the argument for a right to die morph into an argument for a duty to die? The question is not merely a matter of intellectual interest. It is a question of life or death."

To read the article in its entirety, click here:
http://www.albertmohler.com/blog_read.php?id=983

Here are some other articles of "interest"
http://www.rawfoodinfo.com/articles/art_medicalfascism.html

This is another Mohler article reporting that Down Syndrome births are down 90% due to abortion: http://www.albertmohler.com/blog_read.php?id=943

Here is a terrifying quote from the article linked above.

"We will increasingly see the use of embryo screening for severe cosmetic conditions," he said, according to The Telegraph, a British online newspaper.The clinic director said he would be willing to try for permission to test for any genetic factor that would produce severe distress in a family.When asked about hair color, Grudzinskas said, "If there is a cosmetic aspect to an individual case I would assess it on its merits. [Hair color] can be a cause of bullying which can lead to suicide. With the agreement of the HFEA, I would do it."

Brittany and Abigail Hensel

2007-12-10T19:37:00.000-06:00

A couple of weeks ago, I saw (for the second time) a documentary on the TLC channel about two remarkable girls named Brittany and Abigail Hensel. These girls are an amazing inspiration, phsyically and spiritually. Their story is an amazing inspiration.

http://www.hemmy.net/2007/06/15/peers-into-the-lives-of-two-headed-twins/

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bFs8TnUX9Fs

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BkKWApOAG2g&feature=related

Day of Discovery Rerun

2007-06-09T18:29:00.001-05:00

"I Choose Grace" will be re-aired on Sunday, June 10 on Ion TV (formerly PAX) at 7:30 AM. A listing of local station air times can be found by following the Day of Discovery link at their website: www.dod.org.

I Choose Grace is hosted by Ken and Joni Tada and explores the sovereignty of God in the lives of families dealing with special needs children. Several of the interviews were conducted at various Joni and Friends summer family camps.

A couple of my interview responses are included.

A Comment Worth Reading

2007-03-05T16:37:00.000-06:00

I recently received a comment on my blog from a person from Brisbane, Australia. I thought it was good enough to be its own post rather than to remain hidden in the comments section of a previous post, so I am posting it here for your edifcation:

Praise God for the way He leads us by His Spirit into truth as we read His Word. :) I happened on your blog a couple of days ago while googling for a photo of Ken Tada - my husband is reading Joni's memoirs (as I type!) and wanted to see a picture of him. I've been thoroughly enjoying your (and your mum's) writing, and your theological and personal reflections. Thanks so much for sharing them for the edification of your brothers and sisters around the world!I have recently read an article in 'The Briefing' about 'God and the Disabled', by Peter Avery. May I type out a brief section for you? It supports and expands on your realisation..."6. Jesus is the perfect priest who brings us salvation:But sin's hold on God's creatures can only be broken by a perfect priest who offers the perfect sacrifice. The passage I quoted earlier in Leviticus 21[:17-20] isn't mainly about the connection between disabilities and sin; it's about preventing the disabled sons of Aaron from serving as priests in the tabernacle / temple. Talk about discrimination! The Equal Opportunity Commission would have had a field day! But who is the one doing the discriminating? In vs 16, it is clear it's the Lord. It's bad enough that we live in a world where people are discriminated against all the time; why does God do it here in the Bible?The answer is in vs 23: '...he shall not go through the veil or approach the altar, because he has a blemish, that he may not profane my sanctuaries, for I am the LORD who sanctifies them'. God discriminated against the disabled sons of Aaron so that our sins could be forgiven. God is holy and we are not. He cannot tolerate imperfection because of his holiness. In the Old Testament sacrificial system, God was teaching his people that we can only approach him through a perfect priest who offers a perfect sacrifice. That perfect priest could only be Jesus. So the Old Testament priests could not have any physical blemishes as they were fore-shadowing Jesus, the perfect priest. The writer of Hebrews says of him,
For it was indeed fitting that we should have such a high priest, holy, innocent, unstained, separated from sinners, and exalted above the heavens. He has no need, like those high priests, to offer sacrifices daily, first for his own sins and then for those of the people, since he did this once for all when he offered up himself. For the law appoints men in their weakness as high priests, but the word of the oath, which came later than the law, appoints a Son who has been made perfect forever. (Heb 7:26-28)As the father of a disabled daughter, you can probably understand my dislike of discrimination. But I rejoice in and am glad about the fact that God discriminated against the disabled so that our sins could be forgiven and we could come into a relationship with him." taken from Peter Avery, 'Then shall the lamb leap like a deer: God and the disabled', The Briefing Feb 2007, Issue 341, pg 15-18So no, God's 'discrimination' against blemished animals and priests wasn't in an 'absolutist' sense, but because they were the fore-shadowing (or 'type') of the perfect lamb-sacrifice -and- perfect High Priest to come - our Lord Jesus. As always, there was purposefulness and wisdom to His actions that we creatures clamour sometimes to understand, but how cool when it all clicks, and we see His glory so much more.thanks again for your great encouragement, kn. (Brisbane, Australia) Publish this comment. Reject this comment. ",1]
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For it was indeed fitting that we should have such a high priest, holy, innocent, unstained, separated from sinners, and exalted above the heavens. He has no need, like those high priests, to offer sacrifices daily, first for his own sins and then for those of the people, since he did this once for all when he offered up himself. For the law appoints men in their weakness as high priests, but the word of the oath, which came later than the law, appoints a Son who has been made perfect forever. (Heb 7:26-28)As the father of a disabled daughter, you can probably understand my dislike of discrimination. But I rejoice in and am glad about the fact that God discriminated against the disabled so that our sins could be forgiven and we could come into a relationship with him."taken from Peter Avery, 'Then shall the lamb leap like a deer: God and the disabled', The Briefing Feb 2007, Issue 341, pg 15-18So no, God's 'discrimination' against blemished animals and priests wasn't in an 'absolutist' sense, but because they were the fore-shadowing (or 'type') of the perfect lamb-sacrifice -and- perfect High Priest to come - our Lord Jesus. As always, there was purposefulness and wisdom to His actions that we creatures clamour sometimes to understand, but how cool when it all clicks, and we see His glory so much more.thanks again for your great encouragement, kn. (Brisbane, Australia)

Compensation

2006-12-09T15:10:00.000-06:00

I love it when every day life teaches invaluable eternal lessons.

Such an opportunity was given to me in the past 24 hours.

Yesterday morning, on the way to work, I collided with another car and put a huge dent in my front wheel basin. I am currently working for AmeriCorps, which means I get a small living stipend. The stipend is intentionally set below the poverty level so that we can empathize and understand the community that we are serving.

Well, $750 insurance deductibles and poverty level living stipends do not go hand-in-hand. Add to this a drunk driver hit my car about a month ago and cracked up the other side of my car and due to his lack of car insurance, it will require an additional $750 insurance deductible for those repairs. Not to mention the repairs to the vehicle I collided with yesterday morning.

That's a lot of money.

Being in the situation that I am in, I prayed a lot yesterday about God providing funds for me to fix the damages on my car. I was tempted a time or two to curse my current living stipend and look back with longing to the Egypt of my former salary.

On the surface, it looks like my problem is an economic one. My current job, while it affords me the pleasure of serving the poor - a very Biblical thing to do -- it does not afford me the luxury of buying food and clothing or fixing my car. So surely, my solution is as simple as finding a nice paying job, right? After all, I'm college educated, this would not be a hard task in the least to accomplish.

But I guess if I could solve all my own problems that would eliminate my need to cry out to God. And eliminating the need to cry out to God means robbing myself of opportunities to see His grace in my life. I cannot be a recipient of his grace if I don't need it.

Rabbit Trail: Two weeks ago I was at the bank and was informed that I had over drafted my checking account. I was devastated. I had been hoarding a $100 check from my parents for over four months in hopes to spend it on my business trip in D.C. As I flew to D.C. with empty pockets, I was disappointed that all of my spending money was gone. I had hoped to buy some much needed clothes with that money.

Two days before I flew back home, I met a friend in D.C. for dinner while my boss went shopping at Macy's. We met up later at the hotel room and my boss came in beaming, three shopping bags chock full of clothes. To my utter shock and delight - the clothes were for me. (Apparently they had some great clearance racks). They were all designer labels - something I have never owned or afforded in my life. When I got home, I tallied up all of the original prices on each price tag and it came to $1200.

My point in all this? What would I have gotten with my hoarded $100? God took the last dime I had and compensated me TWELVE times what I could afford. But he couldn't compensate me until he first depleted me of all of my own resources. This way, HE gets the glory, not me. It's not my job or my parent's check - it's just sheer grace.

So jump back now to the car situation. Where am I going to get $1500 for my car repairs?

After I prayed this morning for the $1500, I went to my trusty "Streams in the Desert" devotional (Mrs. Charles Cowman). The verse for today's entry was an old favorite - the one given to my mom the day I was born --
2 Corinthians 4:17 in the Weymouth translation:

For this, our light and transitory burden of suffering is achieving for us a weight of glory.

I saw two amazing things in this, one of which was pointed out by the author of the devotional, another which came via my current study of the book of Numbers.

"Achieving" the author says, is the key word. That we are in essence being "compensated for our sufferings." We do not suffer in vain because according to Paul, these afflictions are achieving an end.

The word "compensation" reached off the page and smacked me. For, isn't my entire prayer this morning, "Lord, I need $1500?" Will God give me the $15o0? Yes, I have no doubt that he will. But what I learned this morning is that God has a compensation of eternal value -- value that makes $1500 American dollars look like the useless scraps of paper that they are.

Eternal compensation. We are EARNING WAGES for eternity. Currency that we are earning towards eternity when we suffer. The dent in my car isn't just an accident or even a trial....it is a paycheck. Eternal wages.

This shifts my thinking from, "Oh my, how in the world am I gonna scrape up $1500" to "$1500? What a joke. The God of heaven sees me worthy to dent my car, so that I will call upon him, so that he will provide, so that my needs will be met, so that I will praise him, so that I will trust him more, so that I and others will see his glory..." I'm getting paid for this dent - and like my recent shopping spree -- he is giving me twelve times the $1500 I need because in addition to fixing my car (which I know he will) I am getting eternal compensation for my trials.

The second thing I found in this verse (that linked to something I just learned in Numbers) is the word "weight." A weight of glory. What an unusual phrase. Metaphorically speaking, "weight" often implies a burden. This word juxtaposes the phrases of the verse beautifully: your weight of trial will turn into a weight of glory.

But there's something hovering below the surface that perhaps makes the devotional author's "compensation" theory even stronger. In the Old Testament, the Israelites paid temple taxes. This was paid by shekels. I have always thought that shekels were coins that equate to our nickels and quarters. However, in reading an article in my archeological study Bible, I discovered that an ancient shekel was not a coin, it was actually a weight. The shekel value was not determined by price, but by the weight represented by different sized pieces of metal. So, in Old Testament culture, "weight" was equal to currency!

In light of this, ponder anew the phrase, "an eternal weight of glory." Could this at all be like us saying, "An eternal gold mine of glory" or "An eternal million dollar winning lottery ticket of glory"?

So, how does all of this relate to a blog about physical deformities and disabilities? I think the link is obvious. When we suffer, we look for meaning and understanding behind how or why a loving God would inflict us with such weighty sorrow. I just want to encourage the broken in heart today by saying, you are earning an eternal compensation for your perceived losses. Drop to your knees and praise and worship our heavenly banker - for his generosity is unfathomable.

Distorted Beauty

2006-10-21T23:43:00.000-05:00

The gals over at the Girl Talk blog recently posted about the Dove self-esteem campaign.

There is a very interesting video linked to their post also that shows how any ordinary woman can be transformed by makeup and computer imaging and the standard that we women are being expected to live up to is not even real to begin with.

The deeper our culture dives into impossible standards of beauty, the easier my job gets. It used to be only those of us with deformed faces were considered ugly, now it seems, every woman in the world is.

Team Hoyt

2006-10-21T00:47:00.000-05:00

I saw a video on Team Hoyt this past summer while volunteering at a Joni and Friends family retreat. It was tear-jerking, not only because the story is so inspiring, but because I think it such a picture of how our Heavenly Father helps us to run the race.

Here are some videos on YouTube, (The third link is the exact video that I saw this past summer).

Team Hoyt: An Inspiring Story of Courage and Dedication
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7AcsQ-NUPJQ

The Inspirational Journey of Team Hoyt
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ROrRkW7koAQ&mode=related&search=

Together: Team Hoyt
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D52rJd9GX10&mode=related&search=

The Unbiblical Absolutes of Self-Protection

2006-10-14T00:20:00.000-05:00

This excerpt is taken from John Piper's book, The Roots of Endurance (pages 18-20). I read this section a lot - especially when I am tempted to forget that God's sovereignty is always directed with intentionality and love. This writing is a real buzz-kill if you're looking to spend the evening feeling sorry for yourself! I pray that it will challenge and encourage you the same way it has for me.

The Unbiblical Absolutes of Self-Protection
There is a mind-set in the prosperous West that we deserve pain-free, trouble-free existence. When life deals us the opposite, we have a right not only to blame somebody or some systerm and to feel sorry for ourselves, but also to devote most of our time to coping, so that we have no time or energy left over for serving others.

This mind-set gives a trajectory to life that is almost universal - namely, away from stress and toward comfort and safety and relief. Then within that very natural trajectory some people begin to think of ministry and find ways of serving God inside the boundaries set by the aims of self-protection. Then churches grow up in this mind-set, and it never occures to anyone in such a community of believers that choosing discomfrot, stress, and danger might be the right thing - even the normal, biblical thing - to do.

I have found myself in coversation with Christians for whom it is simply a given that you do not put yourself or your family at risk. The commitment to safety and comfort is an unquestioned absolute. The damends of being a Christian in the twenty-first century will probably prove to be a rude awakening for such folks. Since we h
ave not embraced the Calvary road voluntarily, God may simply catapult us onto it as he did the home-loving saints in Acts 11:19: "Those who were scattered because of the persecution that arose over Stephen traveled as far as Phoenicia and Cyprus and Antioch, speaking the word."

Stress and Danger Are Normal
One way or the other, Christ will bring his church to realize that "in the world you will have tribulation" (John 16:33); that "all who desire to live godly in Christ Jesus will be persecuted: (2 Timothy 3:12); that we are called to "share in suffering for the gospel by the power of God" (2 Timothy 1:8); that "we...groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies" (Romans 8:23); that "whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for [Christ's] sake and the gospel's will save it" (Mark 8:35); and that "through many tribulations we must enter the kingdom of God" (Acts 14:22).

IF we will not freely take our cross and follow Jesus (Mark 8:34) on the Calvary road, it may be thrust on us. It would be better to hear the warnings now and wake up to biblical reality. Existence in this fallen world will not be pain-free and trouble-free. There will be groaning because of our finitude and fallenness, and many afflictions because of our calling (Romans 8:23; Psalm 34:19). Frustration is normal, disappointment is normal, sickness is normal. Conflict, persecution, danger, stress -- they are all normal. The mind-set that moves away from these will move away from reality and away from Christ. Golgotha was not a suburb of Jerusalem.

Christians Move Toward Need, Not Comfort
For the apostle Paul, following Christ meant bearing the marks of his suffering. "We are treated as imposters, and yet are true; as unknown, and yet well known; as dying, and behold, we live; as punished, and yet not killed; as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, yet possessing everything" (2 Corinthians 6:8-10). Being a Christian should mean that our trajectory is toward need, regardless of danger and discomfort and stress. In other words, Christians characteristically will make life choices that involve putting themselves and their families at temporal risk while enjoying eternal security. "Sorrowful, yet always rejoicing...having nothing, yet possessing everything."

Strange Gift Indeed!

2006-10-14T00:08:00.000-05:00

Here is an old, untitled poem, written by J. Danson Smith

Strange gift indeed! -- a thorn to prick --
To pierce into the very quick;
To cause perpetual sesnse of pain,
Strange gift! And yet, 'twas given for gain.

Unwelcome -- yet it came to stay,
Nor could it e'en be prayed away.
It came to fill its God-planned place --
A life-enriching means of grace.

And he who bore it, day by day,
Found Christ his power, his strength, his stay;
In weakness gloried, since thereby
The power of Christ might on him lie.

Oh much tired saint, with fainting heart,
The thorn with its perpetual smart,
With all its wearing, ceaseless pain
Can be they means of priceless gain.

God's grace-thorns -- ah, what forms they take!
What piercing, smarting pain they make!
ANd yet, each one in love is sent,
And always just for blessing meant.

And so, whate'er they thorn may be,
From God accept it willingly;
But reckon Christ -- His life -- the power
To keep, in thy most trying hour.

And sure -- thy life will richer grow;
He grace sufficient will bestow;
And in Heav'n's thorn thy joy 'twill be
That, by His thorn, He strengthened thee.

Deformed Face Myths

2006-09-23T17:11:00.000-05:00

I haven't posted in a while. I just moved 2200 miles away, am sort of in the boonies (beautiful boonies), and it took me a while to get set up with an internet connection, etc.

So what has lured me out of my silence? Strange thing happened to me a couple weeks ago. I was talking to a woman on the phone and she was telling me about her experiences as a youth group leader and how twenty years later, one girl came back, all grown up, and admitted that the night this woman drove her home, she was on her way to commit suicide. She went on to say that the woman's interest and involvement in her life made her feel loved and thus spared her life. Very touching story.

But what was strange was the woman I was speaking to said she was so alarmed to learn about this because, "the girl was so pretty." And then went on to say, "I saw nothing in her life worthy of suicide. It's not like she had a deformed face or anything."

This theme was reiterated just yesterday when I was online doing a web search and stumbled across an apologetics site where a man very hostile to the gospel found the golden argument that has silenced all of those irritating "witnesses" in his life. The argument was, "If God is a loving God, how come people like Julianna Whetmore are born?"

What's even more puzzling than his question is the fact that many born again Christians piped up in Christ's defense to leave comments on this man's blog -- and yet even the Christians handed it to the skeptic that they also had no idea why a loving God would allow such "tragedies."

Folks, I don't know how to express my surprise. Since when is a deformed face the worse possible scenario a person can conjure up in their heads? And why is it that we assume all such unfortunates do nothing but sit around all day thinking of ways to end their own lives?

It is a myth. A lie.

The old adage is, "Don't judge a man until you've walked a mile in his shoes." If you walked a mile in my shoes, you'd realize that a deformed face isn't so bad. It's no worse than anything else anyone has to deal with. Life has ups and downs. Do I have days when I wish there was more surgery and more to do to fix my face? Sure, but to tell you the truth, my insecure moments are not any more intense or frequent than any other woman or girl I have ever talked to who don't have deformities.

If my face was perfect, I'd wish I was thinner, or I wouldn't like something about the way I looked. I have yet to meet a woman who says she is 100% content with her physical appearance.

Folks, a deformed face ain't so bad. Compared to some of the horrible trials my friends are going through right now, I often think I am the luckiest person in the world, because I really have a pretty nice life. No complaints. Life is good.

If God is loving, why did he deform my face? I don't know -- maybe because with a normal face I would have been robbed of the thousands and thousands of blessings that I have received BECAUSE of my deformities. It seems odd, but usually our greatest trial is what most molds and shapes us. It gives us character, backbone, courage, wisdom, discernment, and friendships that are not shallow.

I often like to imagine that the crown of thorns probably did a number on Christ's forhead. I'm sure his face was a lot more deformed at that point than mine will ever be - and it was because of the "joy set before him" that he endured it. So.....so can I.

Fashion and Following the Savior

2006-04-13T10:54:00.000-05:00

The gals over at the Girl Talk blog have just posted the fourth part of their series on "Fashion and Following the Savior." The article articulates a very biblical model of beauty.

Here is an excerpt from Part One:

It’s that time of year again. The fashion magazines are touting the newest and hottest clothing trends for spring and summer. And because fashion is so fickle, a woman is sure to find that what was popular last season, must not see the light of day this season. But more than just the latest style, spring and summer (in particular) usher in a vast array of immodest and indecent clothing. Thus the racks and shelves at the nearest mall are crammed full of body-revealing attire. So, what’s a Christian woman to do?

Here is an excerpt from Part Two:

But before my trip to the mall, something far more important must take place. I must first evaluate my heart. My dad says it this way, “Any biblical discussion of modesty begins by addressing the heart, not the hemline.” So what is this heart we’re supposed to have? 1 Timothy 2:9-10 makes it clear. It says that “Women should adorn themselves in respectable apparel, with modesty and self-control.” These two qualities are to inform the way that I dress. Let’s check out these definitions.

Here is an excerpt from Part Three:

You see, immodest dress is more than simply wearing skimpy clothing. Often, it’s an expression of pride, the opposite of humility. Simply put, immodest clothes are pride on display. In his book Humility: True Greatness, my dad explains that “The proud person seeks to glorify himself and not God, thereby attempting in effect to deprive God of something only He is worthy to receive. In other words, the immodest girl seeks to dress in a way that draws attention to herself and to her body, instead of serving others and bringing glory to the Savior.

Here is an excerpt from Part Four:

So we are not to take this verse to mean that godly women should try as hard as they can to be out of style and unattractive. No! Quite the opposite. God is the creator of beauty. God delights in beauty. All we need to verify this fact is to consider the beauty He created all around us: whether it is an elegant flower, or towering trees, or a meandering river, or billowy clouds or the majestic night sky. Every time we stop to take in one of these breathtaking scenes on display in God’s creation, we can’t help but be convinced that He delights in beauty!

Fibrodysplasia Ossificans Progessiva

2006-04-11T16:07:00.000-05:00

The title of this post is the name of a very rare affliction that turns human muscle into bone, a condition that literally, over the course of time, turns the sufferers into a statue. The malady is so rare that there are only 200 reported cases in the world.

Luciana Wulkan, Robert Kinghorn, and Adrian Berry are all featured in an online article and suffer from this disease. Luciana, Robert, and Adrian are among the 45 people diagnosed with the condition in the United Kingdom.

Professor Paul Wordsworth explains one of the more shocking ramifications of the condition by stating, "As Luciana's condition escalates, she may contort and freeze into a set position. If she's lucky she may be able to choose that position for herself, if she isn't her body will choose for her. Professor Paul Wordsworth explains that as an individual gets more and more ossification of the muscles they may have to make a very difficult decision about what they do with their life. Basically, before the body locks completely they must decide if they will spend their life sitting or standing."

Here are some various photographs of the condition.

IFOPA is an non-profit organization set up to support people and families afflicted with Fibrodysplasia Ossificans Progessiva.

FOP awareness bracelets can be ordered here.

Philip Hayden Foundation

2006-04-10T14:48:00.000-05:00

A friend recently brought a website to my attention and I have since been in contact with the organization. It is the Philip Hayden Foundation.

It is a China Orphan Outreach. Here is what their site says about the org's history:

The Philip Hayden Foundation is a non-profit charitable organization, established for the purpose of helping China’s orphaned and special needs children. PHF was named after Philip Hayden, an American teacher who went to China in 1991 and began volunteering his spare time and efforts to help China's orphans. Philip Hayden's love for China's orphans had a big impact on his teammates in China, Tim and Pam Baker, who joined him in volunteering in orphanages. The Bakers soon took in their first orphaned baby, Esther, who they later adopted. Phil had a special love for Esther and was Tim’s assistant and partner in reaching out to the people of China.

Phil died unexpectedly at the young age of 28 as a result of a rare heart defect. Phil’s death and the adoption of Esther had a profound impact on the Bakers. They couldn’t help thinking about the orphans who slept to the right and left of Esther. They were still in the orphanage. The Bakers could not adopt them all, but they nonetheless wanted to help them as Phil had. This led them to establish the foundation in his memory in 1995.

The website includes photos and bios for about 50 children who still need sponsors. It looks like many of the children have cleft palates and other medical needs in addition to the daily food and clothing needs. There are also children in the program who are up for adoption.

Global Day of Prayer

2006-04-07T15:18:00.000-05:00

This message was just posted onto the Joni and Friends website.

Dear Friend in Disability Ministry…

I’m excited to share with you the following opportunity to involve people with disabilities in a historic global outreach of praise and intercession.

On June 4th, Pentecost Sunday, millions of Christians around the world will be united in prayer from the rising of the sun in the east and across each time zone until the day ends – it will be 24 hours of specific worship, confession, and prayerful intercession. It’s called the Global Day of Prayer.

As we all know, prayer gives energy to the advancement of Christ's kingdom on earth. And at Joni and Friends, we believe that certain followers of Jesus are given a special privilege in prayer -- the Bible contains numerous references to the poor, the needy and the afflicted and how their prayers possess a unique power with God. Psalm 10:17 says, "You hear, O Lord, the desire of the afflicted, you encourage them, and you listen to their cry."

Could it be that God has set apart saints with disabilities to be His greatest prayer warriors? We believe so! We envision an army of people with disabilities serving as God's prayer team for advancing global intercession. And we see the Global Day of Prayer as a golden opportunity for disabled persons to join together around the world, bringing about change and blessing to the cities and nations of the earth.

We hope you will catch this exciting vision to alert the disabled people you know to become involved with the Global Day of Prayer! Please go to our Joni and Friends website www.joniandfriends.org and the 'news' section for further ideas and suggestions regarding how you might get involved. You can also get more information at www.GDOPusa.com and learn of this unprecedented world prayer meeting. Then, encourage disabled people in your sphere of ministry to join the movement, as well as spread the word to their friends.

NOTE: I am excited to announce that our new Joni and Friends website will be up just a week or so and we are going to have a whole section on PRAYER that will eventually include:

-- more creative ideas on how you can include the disability community in prayer

-- our Joni and Friends daily prayer calendar

-- "How to Pray for a Handicapped World"

-- a Daily Devotional

Please be a part of helping us raise a worldwide team of disabled individuals to pray! If you have any questions on how you can organize Christians with disabilities in this Global Day of Prayer, please contact Jean Kingery at jkingery@joniandfriends.org.

Many blessings…
Joni Eareckson Tada

Dove's Campaign for Real Beauty

2006-04-05T10:52:00.000-05:00

Log onto one of Dove soap's newest websites and you will read this opening promo:

For too long
Beauty has been defined by narrow, stifling stereotypes.
You've told us it's time to change all that.
We agree.
Because we believe real beauty comes in many shapes, sizes, and ages.
It is why we stared the campagin for Real Beauty.
And why we hope you'll take part.

The website includes trailers for recent TV commercials, adolescent self-esteem writing contests, a photo gallery, t-shirts, news alerts, and other various ways to get involved in the campaign.

While I have no idea, apart from Christ, how a soap company expects to single-handedly break century-old cultural definitions, I at least applaud their efforts to swim against the raging media tide.

Acres of Hope

2006-03-30T21:56:00.000-06:00

Hat tip to Corrie for telling me about the book, Acres of Hope by Patty Anglin and Joe Musser (Foreword by Joni Eareckson Tada). Amazon is selling the book new for $19.99, but I notice there are used copies available as well and they are as low as .75 cents!

From Publishers Weekly:

This inspiring memoir by a mother who has adopted eight special-needs children calls readers to regard every child as precious in God's sight. Anglin and her husband, Harold, made a commitment, while fostering 50-odd children through the years, to adopt "the ones no one else wanted." These include two crack-addicted babies born to a 13-year-old prostitute; a son with severe emotional problems whose birth parents had tortured him with cigarettes and hung him upside down for punishment; a Nigerian boy born without lower arms and legs; and a five-year-old quadriplegic from India who weighed only 16 pounds at adoption. Anglin emerges not as a self-righteous attention-seeker but a woman of deep faith firmly committed to the individual nurturance of children. She tries hard not to judge the children's biological parents for their various faults, though her fierce mama bear instincts show clearly in harsh words for the social care system. In particular, she criticizes the growing practice of barring cross-racial adoption as a "a subtle form of racism," describing her tooth-and-nail custody fight against an insensitive case worker who, she says, almost sacrificed a child's life for an ideological principle. Today, the Anglins live and home-school their large family, which includes seven biological children, on a 200-acre Wisconsin farm called "Acres of Hope." Both full-time caregivers, they were able to purchase the $62,500 tract because a local bank president financed the entire amount, saying the community needed more people like them. That's an understatement. (Nov.) Copyright 1999 Reed Business Information, Inc.

Put Hope in Motion

2006-03-30T12:47:00.000-06:00

I have blogged previously about Bethany Hamilton - a young surfer who lost an arm in a shark attack. Bethany has now teamed up with World Vision to raise support for disabled children around the world. Her mission is called Put Hope in Motion.

Here is an excerpt from her website:

Aloha, and thanks for visiting my fundraising page!

I'm so excited to be able to use my surfing to help children in crisis through World Vision. I've chosen to focus on the needs of disabled children around the world, and I hope you'll join me by making a donation that will help provide them care, support, and hope.

Did you know that there are 120 million disabled children worldwide, and less than 2% of them have access to education? Worse yet, many of these kids are abandoned or neglected by family or society. When I heard that World Vision has programs around the world designed to help release the potential that God has given each one of these children, I knew I had to take part.

Here are some ways your donation can help special needs children:

$25 helps pay for a prosthetic limb for a child
$50 helps pay for the building of a therapeutic rehabilitation center
$75 helps pay for mine clearance in rural areas
$160 provides a pediatric surgery
$250 provides a wheelchair for a child

One of my favorite Bible verses is Jeremiah 29:11: "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Won't you help me show the world's children that this is true for them also -- no matter what challenge they face? Thank you for joining me in this effort!

Mahalo, Bethany

Is it Uncommon for a Christian to Suffer?

2006-03-29T14:13:00.002-06:00

While Christians will never have to suffer the wrath of God, it is no secret that we will have to endure temporal sufferings. I have been pondering lately the Prosperity Theology that is popular in American culture today. While it is being reported that "real Christians" do not suffer and people with "strong" or "genuine" faith are healed of their diseases...I wondered how those sort of statements match up with the reality of Christians in the world who experience pain on a daily basis.

Is suffering really a relevant topic? Is it something that is commonly experienced in the Church, or is pain, as Job friends so erroneously pointed out, just the product of God's judgment and unconfessed sin?

I decided to do a few Google searches. I guess I figured if there are not a lot of suffering Christians in the world, perhaps some key searches would turn up, "Sorry, no results found for your search" or maybe, "5 of 5 links displayed."

Here is what I found after a few off-the-top-of-my-head searches:

GOOGLE SEARCH # OF CORRESPONDING WEB PAGES
Suffering Makes us Strong 39,400,000
Suffering and Christ 13,600,000
Why do I suffer? 108,000,000
I love God but I still suffer 20,600,000
Why does God make us suffer? 22,800,000
Purpose of suffering? 36,200,000
Do Christians suffer? 9,050,000

108,000,000 people go online to ask the question, "Why do I suffer?"

It is easy to read this sentence with the emphasis on the word why, as in, "Why do I suffer?" But I wonder if it could not also be interpreted by emphasizing another word in the phrase, namely, "Why do I suffer?"

Maybe one reason over one hundred million people are asking this question is not because they do not know the source or purpose of suffering, but in light of what is being preached in many churches today (that good, godly, "real" Christians do not suffer) they wonder why in light of all their good works and love for Christ, they are "failing."

Preaching that Christians will not suffer will not automatically decrease suffering. It will perhaps, however, cause godly men and women who are deeply loved by God to question His faithfulness and goodness to them because God is not treating them the way their pastors say He should be treating them.

Suffering is real. The Bible tells us over and over again to expect suffering and to in fact, not be surprised when it happens. The Bible also teaches us how to prepare for suffering, how to respond to it, and what the rewards for overcoming it will be.

Verses in Scripture that talk about our "not falling" or our "not suffering" should be read in a broader, Christ-exalting, eternal sense. Namely, we will not fall away from God and ultimately lose our salvation. We will not suffer the loss of our souls or suffer the sheer terror of facing God's wrath on judgment day apart from the intercession of Christ Jesus.

Until then, we are called to suffer and to rejoice insofar as we share in Christ's sufferings, so that we may also rejoice and be glad when His glory is revealed.

Michael Schiavo Interview

2006-03-28T10:25:00.000-06:00

For those of you who missed it, the transcript of last night's interview between Larry King and Michael Schiavo has now been posted to the Larry King Live website.

Michael Schiavo on Larry King Live Tonight

2006-03-27T09:34:00.000-06:00

Michael Schiavo, husband of the late Terri Schaivo, will be interviewed on tonight's broadcast of Larry King Live. The program begins at 9:00 PM, EST (check local listings for time and channel).

He will be on the show talking about "life, his new wife and his new book."

I must end here and omit all personal commentary....that sentence alone makes me sick to my stomach.

In Our Hearts, We Were Giants

2006-03-27T09:17:00.000-06:00

I saw a small portion of a program on the History Channel last night. It was about a family of dwarves that were sent to Auschwitz during WWII and experimented on by Josef Mengele for nine months. Amazingly, the family of 12 (seven of whom were little people) as well as ten other friends and neighbors (who pretended to be related) were all spared and survived the Holocaust. The Ovitz family is the only family to escape the SS killing complex completely intact.

Perla Ovitz, one of the seven siblings, said: 'If I ever questioned why I was born a dwarf, my answer must be that my handicap was God's way of keeping me alive.'

After the family left Auschwitz, they relocated to Haifa, Israel where they resumed the music and comedy stage show that they performed in before the war. They achieved much fame and success and all lived to ripe old ages.

I am inspired by this story, not only because it shows courage and strength but also because of the irony. Hitler was a powerful man and many strong men died as his hand. It is ironic to me that the weak, little ones are who survived. We hear a lot about "survival of the fittest" and about disabled people being "weak." And yet, it was because of the Orvitz's physical weakness that spared their lives and gave them the strength after the war to go on with fruitful lives, rather than sinking into a realm of defeat, despair and self-pity.

Unlike Job and the Orvitz siblings, not many of us with disabilities will ever get a clear and direct answer from the mouth of God as to why He made us the way that He did. But, like Perla Orvitz, we can all say that God had intentional purposes of love and mercy behind why He chose to make us the way that he did.

Heaven forbid that God ever have to answer our persistent grumblings and "why God's?" with an answer as painfully specific as the Holocaust. Maybe we should just have faith that He knows what He is up to and not risk having to be told all of the answers.

If you are interested in learning more about the Orvitz family, click here.

Here are some other links as well:

Doctor Death and the Seven Dwarfs
The Seven Dwarfs of Auschwitz

Here is an Amazon link to the biography written about the Ovitz family.

Bible Reading Plans

2006-03-17T10:47:00.001-06:00

I posted an excerpt on Tuesday from Don Whitney's book, Spiritual Disciplines for the Christian Life, which is proving to be a very helpful, sobering, encouraging, and convicting read!

Another tidbit that Whitney puts forth in the first chapter of his book is that the average Bible on cassette series has proven that the entire Bible can be read aloud in the space of 71 hours - which is about the same number of hours the average American spends watching television in two weeks time.

Yes, this is acceptable behavior for the “average" American - but is it acceptable behavior for Americans who believe the verses that say, "You are not of this world" and "be holy because I am holy" and "the earth and its desires shall pass away but the man who does the will of God, lives forever"?

I certainly don't expect anyone to sit down and read the Bible in 71 hours, nor would I even conclude that such a rushed reading would even be profitable. But how about a few minutes a day five times a week? Does that seem reasonable?

I thought for a few days over this post, thinking that the exhortation, while a good one, didn't fit the truncated subject matter of this particular blog. But upon further contemplation, I realized that one of the hardest obstacles to living life with a disability or a deformed face is the fact that you feel, everywhere you go, that you don't belong. This causes depression, isolation, bitterness, self-pity, despair, and complacency. And I wonder if perhaps some of those problems might not be hacked away at by putting away the mirror and picking up the Word?

May the Lord convict and encourage and inspire and motivate us to read and love and apply and share his Word!

Here are some Read-Through-the-Bible programs available online or for download:

Bethlehem Baptist Church's program (Scroll down to the "Weekly Fighter Verse" sidebar. There are two links: Print Program Part One and Print Program Part Two) Acrobat, PDF files.

The Discipleship Journal Bible Reading Plan ( printable PDF file)

Read the Bible in a Year by E-mail (sign up for daily e-mail alerts)

One Year Bible Online

Click here for reading plans that allow you to read the:

Whole Bible in a year
Old Testament in a year
New Testament in a year
Old Testament in two years
Words of Jesus 4 times in one year
Whole Bible chronologically in a year
Whole Bible chronologically in a year (option 2)
New Testament Letters three times a year
New Testament and Proverbs twice, Psalms once in a year
New Testament and Psalms twice, rest of Bible once in a year
Proverbs in a month
Gospels in a month
Psalms in a month

All Is Vanity

2006-03-16T15:52:00.000-06:00

What do you see? A beautiful woman staring at her reflection in front of a mirror? Or do you see a human skull? I first saw this picture hanging on the wall in a cafe in a small town my family was passing through during a camping trip. The image has always stuck with me because not only is it a bizarre optical illusion - but the message behind it is so true to the reality we all live in -- the world looks at something and defines it as beautiful -- but through biblical eyes, those pretty things only lead to death.

If you cannot view the photo I have posted above, you can view it by clicking here. You can view another version of the illusion here.

Taste and See That the Lord is Good

2006-03-14T11:17:00.000-06:00

I began reading Don Whitney's, Spiritual Disciplines for the Christian Life last night and was amazed and convicted and inspired and touched by this account found on page 35.

We should all have the passion for reading God's Word of the man in this story. Evangelist Robert L. Sumner, in his book, The Wonder of the Word of God, tells of a man in Kansas City who was severely injured in an explosion. His face was badly disfigured, and he lost his eyesight as well as both hands. He had just become a Christian when the accident happened, and one of his greatest disappointments was that he could no longer read the Bible. Then he heard about a lady in England who read Braille with her lips. Hoping to do the same, he sent for some books of the Bible in Braille. But he discovered that the nerve endings in his lips had been too badly damaged to distinguish the characters. One day, as he brought one of the Braille pages to his lips, his tongue happened to touch a few of the raised characters and he could feel them. Like a flash he thought, "I can read the Bible using my tongue." At the time Robert Sumner wrote his book, the man had read through the entire Bible four times. If he can do that, can you discipline yourself to read the Bible?

"Undeserved" Human Pain

2006-03-09T13:36:00.000-06:00

This excerpt was taken from the article, The Problem of Pain, based on the C. S. Lewis book of that same title.

Shall not the Judge of all the earth do what is just? Exodus 18:25.

Probably four-fifths of all human suffering, says C.S.Lewis in The Problem of Pain, derives from our misusing nature, or hurting others. We, not God, produced racks, whips, prisons, guns and bombs.

Because we are rebels-against-God who must lay down our arms, our other pains may indeed constitute God's megaphone to rouse a deaf world to surrender. There is a universal feeling that bad people ought to suffer: without a concept of 'retribution' punishment is rendered unjust (what can be more immoral than to inflict suffering on me for the sake of deterring others if I do not deserve it?). But until evil persons find evil unmistakably present in their existence, in the form of pain, they are enclosed in illusion. Pain may provide the only opportunity they may have for amendment. It is hard to turn our thoughts to God when things are going well. To 'have all we want' is a terrible saying when 'all' does not include God.

So God troubles our selfishness, which stands between us and the recognition of our need. God's divine humility stoops to conquer, even if we choose him merely as an alternative to hell. Yet even this he accepts!

Lord, forgive me if I regard you as I do a heart-lung machine - there for emergencies, but hoping I'll never have to use it. Amen......

Here is the Amazon.com book review for C. S. Lewis', The Problem of Pain:

The Problem of Pain answers the universal question, "Why would an all-loving, all-knowing God allow people to experience pain and suffering?" Master Christian apologist C.S. Lewis asserts that pain is a problem because our finite, human minds selfishly believe that pain-free lives would prove that God loves us. In truth, by asking for this, we want God to love us less, not more than he does. "Love, in its own nature, demands the perfecting of the beloved; that the mere 'kindness' which tolerates anything except suffering in its object is, in that respect at the opposite pole from Love." In addressing "Divine Omnipotence," "Human Wickedness," "Human Pain," and "Heaven," Lewis succeeds in lifting the reader from his frame of reference by artfully capitulating these topics into a conversational tone, which makes his assertions easy to swallow and even easier to digest. Lewis is straightforward in aim as well as honest about his impediments, saying, "I am not arguing that pain is not painful. Pain hurts. I am only trying to show that the old Christian doctrine that being made perfect through suffering is not incredible. To prove it palatable is beyond my design." The mind is expanded, God is magnified, and the reader is reminded that he is not the center of the universe as Lewis carefully rolls through the dissertation that suffering is God's will in preparing the believer for heaven and for the full weight of glory that awaits him there. While many of us naively wish that God had designed a "less glorious and less arduous destiny" for his children, the fortune lies in Lewis's inclination to set us straight with his charming wit and pious mind. --Jill Heatherly

If God Wills Disease Why Should We Try to Eradicate It?

2006-03-09T13:03:00.000-06:00

This is the latest Freshwords article (written by Pastor John Piper).

This question arises from the biblical teaching that all things are ultimately under God’s control. “My counsel shall stand, and I will accomplish all my purpose” (Isaiah 46:10). “Whatever the Lord pleases, he does, in heaven and on earth, in the seas and all deeps” (Psalm 135:6). “He does according to his will among the host of heaven and among the inhabitants of the earth; and none can stay his hand or say to him, ‘What have you done?’” (Daniel 4:35). “[He] works all things according to the counsel of his will” (Ephesians 1:11).

This means that God governs all calamity and all disease. Satan is real and has a hand in it, but he is not ultimate and can do nothing but what God permits (Job 1:12-2:10). And God does not permit things willy-nilly. He permits things for a reason. There is infinite wisdom in all he does and all he permits. So what he permits is part of his plan just as much as what he does more directly.

Therefore this raises the question: If God wills disease why should we try to eradicate it? This is a crucial question for me because I have heard Christians say recently that believing in the sovereignty of God hinders Christians from working hard to eradicate diseases like malaria and tuberculosis and cancer and AIDS. They think the logic goes like this: If God sovereignly wills all things, including malaria, then we would be striving against God to invest millions of dollars to find a way to wipe it out.

That is not the logic the Bible teaches. And it is not what Calvinists have historically believed. In fact, lovers of God’s sovereignty have been among the most aggressive scientists who have helped subdue creation and bring it under the dominion of man for his good—just like Psalm 8:6 says, “You have given him [man] dominion over the works of your hands; you have put all things under his feet.”

The logic of the Bible says: Act according to God’s “will of command,” not according to his “will of decree.” God’s “will of decree” is whatever comes to pass. “If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that” (James 4:15). God’s “will of decree” ordained that his Son be betrayed (Luke 22:22), ridiculed (Isaiah 53:3), mocked (Luke 18:32), flogged (Matthew 20:19), forsaken (Matthew 26:31), pierced (John 19:37), and killed (Mark 9:31). But the Bible teaches us plainly that we should not betray, ridicule, mock, flog, forsake, pierce, or kill innocent people. That is God’s “will of command.” We do not look at the death of Jesus, clearly willed by God, and conclude that killing Jesus is good and that we should join the mockers.

In the same way, we do not look at the devastation of malaria or AIDS and conclude that we should join the ranks of the indifferent. No. “Love your neighbor” is God’s will of command (Matthew 22:39). “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you” is God’s will of command (Matthew 7:12). “If your enemy is hungry, feed him” is God’s will of command (Romans 12:20). The disasters that God ordains are not aimed at paralyzing his people with indifference, but mobilizing them with compassion.

When Paul taught that the creation was subjected to futility (Romans 8:20), he also taught that this subjection was “in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to decay and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God” (v. 21). There is no reason that Christians should not embrace this futility-lifting calling now. God will complete it in the age to come. But it is a good thing to conquer as much disease and suffering now in the name of Christ as we can.

In fact, I would wave the banner right now and call some of you to enter vocations of research that may be the means of undoing some of the great diseases of the world. This is not fighting against God. God is as much in charge of the research as he is of the disease. You can be an instrument in his hand. This may be the time appointed for the triumph that he wills to bring over the disease that he ordained. Don’t try to read the mind of God from his mysterious decrees of calamity. Do what he says. And what he says is: “Do good to everyone” (Galatians 6:10).

Longing to relieve suffering with you,

Pastor John

Joni Eareckson Tada Audio Books

2006-03-08T12:44:00.002-06:00

I recently discovered the "Audio Book" section of the iTunes music store home page. I was pleased to discover a pretty thorough "Religion and Spirituality" section.

Five of Joni's books are available for download (MP3 format). Another perk is that Joni herself is the one reading the books. Her personality, sense of humor, joy, and kindness come through amazingly well in her readings.

Here is what is available so far:
Diamonds in the Dust (devotional) $10.95
Heaven: Your Real Home (Abridged) $8.95
Joni (unabridged autobiography) $25.95
The God I Love (unabridged) $25.95
When God Weeps (abridged) $8.95

C. S. Lewis
I wrote a post back in June called Till We Have Faces which was a book review of the C. S. Lewis book of the same title. The book is a work of fiction that retells the classic Greek myth of Cupid and Psyche.

That book is also available for download through the iTunes music store. It is the unabridged version and is priced at $20.95 and is narrated by Nadia May. The MP3 download price is actually very reasonable as the audio cassette version is going for $31.47 on Amazon and the CD-ROM version is going for $49.99 on Christianbook.com.

Krista on the Radio!

2006-03-03T11:24:00.000-06:00

You may remember my friend Krista from a story that I posted on this blog back on January 23, 2005. (If you haven't read it, click here).

I just received an e-mail informing me that Krista has been interviewed. Here is information on where to go to hear that program! (Way to go, Krista!)

Krista was interviewed as a part of the radiothon described below. She will be on the radio sometime during this coming weekend. We don't know when, but you can hear the interview on the KS95 website starting Friday morning, by following the instructions below.

Tune in to the 8th annual KS95 for Kids® Radiothon, broadcast live March 3-5 from Ridgedale Center in Minnetonka. During the past seven years, this premier fundraising event has generated more than $7.7 million for Gillette Children's Specialty Healthcare and Children's Cancer Research Fund. To hear the courageous stories of kids battling cancer and living with disabilities, tune in to 94.5 KS95 FM or log on to www.ks95.com

Krista's story and photo is also featured under "Meet the Kids" at :http://www.ks95.com/ex.html

Go to KS95.com

Click on KS95 for Kids

Click on Meet the Kids

Click on Krista Horning

Click on the link to listen at the top of their story

Day of Discovery

2006-02-17T16:49:00.000-06:00

RBC's Day of Discovery

Joni Eareckson Tada and husband Ken Tada will host this week’s national television broadcast of RBC’s Day of Discovery this Sunday, February 19, 2006.

Print out a copy of this announcement

Find your local listing

The title of this episode is “I Choose Grace” where families testify about the blessing and the strength given to them by having a family with a child or young adult with a disability. Much of the program was filmed during our Family Retreats at Oakwood last year, and it features several of the families who attended one of those retreats.

This nation wide broadcast will air this Sunday on PAX television (now called I Network).To find your local listing, time, and station please go to RBC's Website. In the Chicago area, the program airs at 7:30 AM on channel 38.

We hope you will tune in to this powerful program on blessings during difficult times of testing, and the strength

families receive from members affected by disability.

Blessings,

Joni and Friends Chicago

Don't Waste Your Cancer

2006-02-16T12:09:00.000-06:00

That's the title of John Piper's most recent article, written on the eve of his surgery. For more information and updates on Pastor Piper's prostate cancer and recent surgery and prayer requests, click here.

I think this is all very applicable here because any one of us can remove the word "Cancer" from this article and put in our disability, our struggle, our issue, our pain...and all ten points apply. I was blessed by these exhortations and hope you will be also.

Here are his ten points:

You will waste your cancer if you do not believe it is designed for you by God.
You will waste your cancer if you believe it is a curse and not a gift.
You will waste your cancer if you seek comfort from your odds rather than from God.
You will waste your cancer if you refuse to think about death.
You will waste your cancer if you think that “beating” cancer means staying alive rather than cherishing Christ.
You will waste your cancer if you spend too much time reading about cancer and not enough time reading about God.
You will waste your cancer if you let it drive you into solitude instead of deepen your relationships with manifest affection.
You will waste your cancer if you grieve as those who have no hope.
You will waste your cancer if you treat sin as casually as before.
You will waste your cancer if you fail to use it as a means of witness to the truth and glory of Christ.

Joni and Friends 2006 Family Retreats

2006-01-18T14:35:00.000-06:00

I have simply copy and pasted this information from the Joni and Friends website.

Since 1991 Joni and Friends Family Retreats has hosted five-day summer programs across the United States where families affected by disability can find hope get a break from the challenges of everyday life.

If your family is affected by disability, we invite you to pack the car and join us this summer at one of our fifteen retreats. Browse the family information section or check out the family registration.

Our Short Term Missionary opportunities are a great way to engage in serving others in a fun environment. Browse the Short Term Missionary information section or check out the Short Term Missionary application.

While you're here, browse through our 2006 schedule. There are also opportunities to help support Family Retreats and find referrals to other camps and conferences that serve families affected by disability.

We're proud to be a part of the Christian Camp and Conference Association and the Evangelical Council for Financial Accountability.

If we can be of any help to you, please feel free to contact us.

The Pursuit of Pure Joy

2006-01-03T13:43:00.000-06:00

This article will not satisfy the one who sees only morbidity and cruelty and irony and pain in the Christian walk – nor will it pacify the soul that denies the reality of all suffering and sees only prosperity, giddiness, laughter, and good health as the sole sign of God’s favor. And so before I go on, I ask the reader to critique my thoughts here with some balance, grace, and common sense.

I believe that in Christ there are pleasures forevermore and infinite joy and promises of goodness and provision and kindness. God is kind. God is generous. And God is an immeasurably happy God.

I also believe that this world is full of toils and snares and tragedies and suffering and that the Christian is often not spared from such realities.

This brings to mind the lyrics to the great old Swedish hymn, “Day by Day”:

Day by day and with each passing moment,
Strength I find to meet my trials here;
Trusting in my Father's wise bestowment,
I've no cause for worry or for fear.
He whose heart is kind beyond all measure
Gives unto each day what He deems best
Lovingly, it's part of pain and pleasure,
Mingling toil with peace and with rest.

Pain and pleasure…toil and rest. Not simply one or the other.

I have, believe it or not, spoken with several Christians over the course of the last couple of weeks who have all taken issue with the subject of joy. You would assume this is something we could all agree on. After all, joy is one of the fruits of the Spirit – something we are required to seek and obtain. It is not forbidden fruit.

And yet, these particular individuals who I have spoken with have argued that if we seek joy in God, we are no longer seeking God, but joy. And so in seeking joy, we become idolaters.

I disagree with this logic. Mainly, I disagree with it because it exposes blasphemy at its very core. To say that seeking joy is seeking something other than God is to say that joy lies outside of God. Or that joy can be found in things other than God. I completely disagree.

Joy – pure and real, biblical joy – can be found nowhere but in Jesus Christ.

You cannot have joy independent of Christ, nor can you have Christ independent of joy. You either have both or you have neither. If you cannot agree with this statement, you may have incorrectly defined what it means to have a relationship with Christ, or more probably, you have failed to correctly define joy.

Do not confuse joy with euphoria. True joy incorporates contentment and satisfaction. Feeling pleasure and having joy are two completely different things. Joy. among other things, includes an understanding of the sovereignty of God and requires faith and discernment.

Pleasure is something all human beings have the capacity to feel repeatedly over the course of their life time in temporary, limited spurts. Our brain releases something called Dopamine and depending upon the amount of Dopamine released, we will feel bursts of physical pleasure. Dopamine can be released while watching sports, eating a donut, or by cashing a paycheck. Drug highs occur when a drug tricks the brain into releasing more Dopamine than it is supposed to, resulting in an overwhelming sense of momentary physical pleasure.

This all, however, has nothing to do with joy. A person completed depleted of all Dopamine can still experience joy in the Lord, because biblical joy has nothing to do with physical feelings of pleasure, it has to do with faith and a correct understanding of the character of God.

James 1:2 says, “Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you meet trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance.”

Here we see the Bible redefine two common human emotions for something much deeper. It takes our word for “trials” and redefines it in the next phrase as “the testing of your faith.” Because trials equate to sanctification, the Bible tells us that the proper response during “trials” is not to pout, whine, or get angry, but to consider it joy!

I am also intrigued by the word “consider.” The word “consider” has many definitions in the English language: think, ponder, heed, regard, judge, and believe are a few of them.

Interesting. When we “consider” something, we are testing something that isn’t instinctively apparent. James doesn’t say our trials are joy – but he tells us to “consider” them to be; to ponder our trials and judge them against our Biblical discernment, and believe that they are. Belief is indicative of having faith. There isn’t a word in this verse about enjoying the trial or having fun during the trial or wanting the trial to be prolonged – but only an exhortation to beat against the goads of human logic and to consider that something much deeper than a trial is really going on.

Scripture tells us that “because of the joy set before him, Christ endured the cross.”

Here is where we are forced to realize that “joy” may be defined biblically a bit differently than we traditionally have defined it.

The cross was agonizing and painful. Christ suffered physical pain, verbal abuse, the betrayal of friends, and the shame and humiliation of hanging on the cross naked. I don’t think “joy” in this context means that he was delighting in his present circumstances.

Christ’s joy was an act of faith – setting his mind on what was to come and what was to be accomplished through his suffering. Knowing that the sting of death would be removed, sinners would be saved, the serpent’s head would be crushed, and God’s name would be glorified as the result of his suffering -- and caring far more about these things than he did about his own body or physical comfort.

I think this is where most of us go wrong. Our own bodies are used as a thermometer to determine whether or not joy is being accomplished. Nothing could be more deceptive.

It all comes down to how you define joy.

If joy is wrapped up in prosperity, riches, money, vacations, good-looking friends, physical beauty, new cars, health, an impressive job title….then yes, pursuing joy will make you an idolater. However, there is a difference between pursuing joy and pursuing things that you perceive will result in your acquiring of joy.

But if you understand that biblical joy has in mind -- not feelings -- but a posture of unshakeable trust and faith during times of crisis and trial – you will find that joy can be found nowhere outside of Christ and the one who pursues Christ cannot be an idolater.

Jaqui Saburido

2005-12-23T12:54:00.000-06:00

Jacqui's story is painfully inspiring. As a 20-year old college student back in 1999, she came to the U.S. for a short visit to take some English classes. She was hit be a 19-year old drunk driver. Of the four people in Jacqui's car, two died, two survived. Jacqi, one of the survivers, was pinned under the dashboard of the passanger side and 60% of her body was burned after the engine caught fire and spead to the inside of the car.

Miraculously, she survived.

Jacqui is now living with her father in the U.S., far from her family and friends so she can get the medical attention she needs. She has had 50 surgeries already.

Jacqui's website is: www.helpjacqui.com

There is a link on the home page to a power-point slide show that tells her story and show before and after pictures.

There is also an address where you can send notes of encouragement to Jacqui. It is:

Help Jacqui
P.O. Box 27667
Austin, TX 78755

Jacqui has told her story on Oprah as well as appearing in a state-wide Drunk Driving poster campaign in Austin, TX.

The boy who hit Jacqui is now serving two consecutive 7-year prison sentences for manslaughter. He will get out of prison when he turns 28.

It is a humbling thought to see how quickly a person's whole life can change -- one foolish choice -- and a young girl winds up severely deformed, and a young boy winds up in prison for 14 year. I don't want to take only pity and judgment away with me after having read this story, but to pray for both Jacqui and the drunk driver. Both lives, and the lives of all their family and friends, have been forever changed.

Disability Ministry Education

2005-12-21T10:53:00.000-06:00

Two programs have come to my attention. If anyone knows of others, please drop a comment and let me know about them, I would be interested in knowing if there are more programs like this.

Reformed Theological Seminary

Disability Ministry Certificate
Available via correspondence through RTS Virtual Campus

Click here for information specific to the certificate.
There is also a "Disabilities and the Church" PDF file (the link is located on the same page as the link posted above along with the information specific to the certificate).

RTS also has seminaries located in Atlanta, GA; Boca Raton, FL; Charlotte, NC; Jackson, MS; Orlando, FL; and Washington D.C.

Click here for Admissions information.

Program blurb and Course Requirements:
here is an immediate and significant need for evangelism, edification and leadership training for those who have significant physical, mental, and sensory disabilities. People with such weakness are an indispensable part of the church. The Certificate for Disability Ministry is an instructional program for effective practical ministry with a thoroughly biblical theological foundation.

COURSE	INSTRUCTOR	CREDIT HOURS
Systematic Theology I	Dr. Douglas Kelly	3
Pauline Epistles	Dr. Knox Chamblin	4
Pastoral and Social Ethics	Dr. Harold O. J. Brown	3
Disabilities and the Church	Dr. Andrew Peterson	2
History of Missions	Samuel H. Larsen	3
		TOTAL 15

Johnson Bible College

Disability Ministry (undergraduate Minor). Click here for details.
Click here to view the PDF file of the 2004-2006 Course Catalog.
Page 58 & 59 of the catalog outline the Disability Ministry courses.
Click here for Admissions information.

I have been given information that the Disability Ministry courses will be available via correspondence course format in January 2006. You will want to contact an admissions advisor for more information.

Course Blurb:

Do you enjoy helping those with special needs? If working with the mentally and physically handicapped is a gift of yours, then we encourage you to check out our Disability Ministry Program.

Our Disability Ministry program is designed to help you better understand the needs of the disabled and develop skills which will help to incorporate them into the life of the church. You will also learn the "ins" and "outs" of the services provided to those with disabilities by federal, state, and local agencies.

Along with a specialty in disability ministry, you will receive a bachelor's degree in Bible.

Paul's Face

2005-12-21T10:17:00.000-06:00

...the Apostle Paul, that is.

Every year, Pastor John Piper writes a series of narrative poems and reads them during the Sunday services of the Advent season. He takes a familiar character from Scripture and adds a fictional element to flesh out the deeper life of what that person might have been going through.

This year, he chose the Apostle Paul and speculated over what Paul's life would be like had the "thorn in his flesh" been a deformed face. We do not know what Paul's thorn was, Scripture is not clear. Many pastors and scholars have speculated through the years that it could be blindness or a speech inpediment. Having never heard the theory of a deformed face, and having a deformed face myself, I was very intrigued by the idea that perhaps even the Apostle Paul and I could relate on some level. Whether or not he truly did or did not have a deformed face isn't the point -- the poem is an enjoyable read.

You can read the poems or listen to them via an MP3 download on your computer here:

Part One
Part Two
Part Three

Rosemarie Siggins

2005-12-21T10:08:00.000-06:00

Rosemarie Siggins, who the media has dubbed, "The Woman With Half a Body" has an extraordinary story. She was born with legs but shortly after birth had them both amputated due to the onset of a rare genetic condition.

Rosemarie's story is one of those jaw droppers -- and not because she doesn't have legs. She is amazing because she is happy, well-adjusted and lives a life more completely normal than those who can boast of being "completely normal."

She is married, works a job, drives a car, even had a baby. Nothing seems to stop her. Her story is inspiring and so is her personality.

The last link (below) gives a more recent update, including information that Rosemarie and her husband Dave are expecting their second child in January!

Here are some links to some stories about Rosemarie.

The Woman With Half a Body
Rosemaire Siggins
Jeffery R. Werner's Page

Vicki's Story, Part Eight

2005-12-19T16:39:00.000-06:00

Click here to read Part One
Click here to read Part Two
Click here to read Part Three
Click here to read Part Four
Click here to read Part Five
Click here to read Part Six
Click here to read Part Seven

Part Eight

At this point, I was half way through sixth grade and I already felt like I was forty years old. I sat at my desk, surrounded by eleven-year olds, feeling like I’d been here before many times already…decades ago…reliving my youth over and over again like some desperate character in some ironic Greek myth. I didn’t feel wise beyond my years by any means…just tired.

One afternoon, the teacher passed out our Weekly Readers and we took turns reading aloud, one paragraph at a time – voices winding up and down the rows of desks like a rattlesnake about to strike. This was a situation of complete safety. While some of my classmates struggled to read well aloud, I loved to read. I counted ahead and figured out which paragraph I was to read and scoured it for the bigger words. I practiced it in my head several time. However, when it came to my turn, instead of asking me to read, the teacher asked me to answer some poignant questions about the material we had just read.

I, of course, couldn’t answer any of them because I had been too busy practicing my paragraph to be paying attention to what anyone else had been reading. I admitted defeat which resulted in the all-too-familiar gales of laughter from my merciless classmates, who just seconds before my reproof had themselves been sweating their way through the exercise, mispronouncing words as simplex as “cereal.”

Angela, the smartest girl in the class, was sitting behind me. Stripped of my reading privileges, my thoughts retreated deep into another world as Angela flawlessly read through my paragraph.

I relived the moment of humiliation over and over again in my head as Angela droned on, citing boring, useless facts about the rock badger. Only one word came to comfort me as their laughter echoed in my head, “reality…” This life of mine, it was just reality. Face it.

I wrote “REALITY” vertically down the side margin of my weekly reader in big, block letters. I had never written a poem in my life, unless you counted that Haiku incident in second grade, but that was all done under duress, so it hardly counted.

From out of the “R” I penciled in, “Roses are not always read.” I was intrigued by my own cleverness to pun the word red, which is probably the only reason I bothered to go on. Almost without any thought, I scribbled out phrases after each of the remaining letters until I had a poem scrawled all over the back of my Weekly Reader.

R Roses are not always read
E Even beauty has thorns in its bed
A Always look at every side
L Look in deeper, see the pride
I In your heart you’ll find the key
T Try to change it, you will see
Y You cannot change reality

Okay, so it was dripping with irony and self-pity, but it wasn’t too bad for an eleven year old. What I realized then and there wasn’t necessarily that I had the ability to write poetry, but that poetry had the ability to break the spell of self-pity. Because I was able to articulate my hurt, the hurt went away. I know all of life isn’t this simple. But at eleven years old, I felt empowered. If I could write a poem about how I was feeling, then I must be feeling something very normal. If it wasn’t normal, it wouldn’t have words. As long as it had words, it meant that it was real, and if it was real, then I was real and all the lies about my not belonging on the planet and not fitting in and no one loving me couldn’t really be true.

I was so pleased over my new discovery, and a poem to read to my mom on the drive home from school that I didn’t even fight back when Brian, my arch-nemesis, tripped me on my way out the door. I picked myself up, dusted myself off, and just kept walking towards the door, the Weekly Reader proudly tucked under my arm.

“Icky Vicki! Icky Vicki!” He called down the hall after me.

“Icky Vicki….that’s really original!” I yelled back, suddenly realizing how uncreative the taunt really was.

Then, it was that very moment, the poet in me rose up and took the baton. The frightened, insecure girl that had once been holding onto it so tightly, relinquished her burden. It was the poet’s turn now. Self-confidence spread all over my body as I sat in the parking lot in mom’s car reading my poem to her, her face beaming with a blinding smile.

It was a whole new ball game now. Poor Brian…he never stood a chance after that. Yes, Brian, as he was very soon to find out, would have to watch his step from now on….especially if his shoelaces happened to be untied. Ah yes, Brian’s shoelaces…but that’s another story entirely…

The Right Use of Serious Illness

2005-12-15T22:55:00.000-06:00

Blaise Pascal, a French philosopher and theologian (1623-1662) was plagued with much suffering and poor health for the duration of his short life. Before his death at the age of thirty-nine, he wrote a lengthy prayer entitled, "The Right Use of Serious Illness." Here is a short excerpt from that prayer.

O Lord, whose spirit is so good and gracious in all things, and who art so merciful that not only the prosperities, but also the distresses which happen to Thine elect are the effects of Thy mercy, grant me grace not to act like a heathen in the state to which Thy justice has brought me; but that, like a true Christian, I may acknowledge Thee for my Father and my God, in whatsoever circumstances I am placed...

Thou gavest me health to be spent in serving Thee; and I perverted it to a use altogether profane. Now Thou hast sent me a sickness for my correction: O suffer me not to use this likewise to provoke Thee by my impatience. If my heart has been filled with the love of the world, while I was in possession of strength, destroy my vigor to promote my salvation...

O Lord, as at the instant of death I shall find myself separated from the world, stripped of all things, and standing alone in Thy presence, to answer to Thy justice for all the movements of my heart; grant that I may consider myself, in this disease, as in kind of death, separated from the world, stripped of all the objects of my affections, placed alone in Thy presence, to implore of Thy mercy the conversion of my heart; and that thus I may enjoy great consolation in knowing that Thou art now sending me a sort of death, for the display of Thy mercy, before Thou sendest me death in reality, for the display of Thy justice.

...Grant me grace, O Lord, to join Thy consolations to my sufferings, that I may suffer like a Christian. I pray not to be exempted from pain...but I pray that I may not be abandoned to the pains of nature without the comforts of Thy Spirit. Grant, O Lord, that...I may conform myself to Thy will; and that being sick as I now am, I may glorify Thee in my sufferings...Unite me to Thyself, fill me Thyself, and with Thy Holy Spirit. So that, being filled by Thee, it may be no longer I who live or suffer, but Thou, O my Saviour, who livest and sufferest in me; that having thus been a small partaker of Thy sufferings, Thou mayest fill me completely with...glory...Amen.

Vicki's Story, Part Seven

2005-12-13T16:29:00.000-06:00

Click here to read Part One
Click here to read Part Two
Click here to read Part Three
Click here to read Part Four
Click here to read Part Five
Click here to read Part Six

Part Seven

There I was again, sitting on that uncomfortable wooden chair in the surgeon’s downtown office. He was kneading my face like he was about to make a pie crust out of it. His left hand bracing my forehead, his eyes squinted, his tongue to his nose…pushing, prodding, poking, pulling.

My heart was beating. Surely, those scars were bound to be hard as rocks, as unfaithful as I was at rubbing the steroid cream into it over the past month.

His eyebrow raised.

My heart skipped a beat. It was coming – the lecture. He’s going to know…I’m dead meat! He’s going to know I didn’t use the cream. Oh why, why, why didn’t I just take five minutes a night and use the cream?! Now I was going to get a lecture from the stern doctor and a couple of needles in my nose.

His hand dropped from my forehead and he just glared at me – his eyes squinting. He just looked at me, his eyes boring more holes into my head than his scalpel had. I gulped and looked shyly at my lap. He breathed deeply through his nose and looked sternly at my mother. She smiled sweetly, not at all betraying the tearful confession she had heard from me on the car ride over to the office.

“Mrs. Anderson…” the doctor said sternly, “What exactly have you done here?”

“I…well…” mom was perplexed.

I felt bad…why should mom be blamed for my disobedience?

“I have never seen anything like this in all my years of medical practice!” he grunted.

Wow, as if I didn’t feel lousy enough! Now he’s gotta rub it in by making me the worst patient in medical history. Why didn’t I just use that blasted cream like I was supposed to!

The doctor got up without another word and left the office.

I looked at mom with wide eyes. Neither said a word, we both knew what was coming. I tried not to let the mental picture solidify – the stern doctor returning to the office with a Western gunslinger’s holster strapped around his white lab coat – two shiny hypodermic needles the size of shotguns hanging from each holster.

I could hear the doctor’s footsteps coming back towards the door. My heart nearly stopped. I took a deep breath and looked down at my lap. The knob twisted, “Oh God please…help me…help me…” I prayed – my mind screaming.

The doctor entered the room, with his nurse in tow. I looked all over, trying to see where he’d hid the shots.

“Look at this, Sally!” He said, pointing towards me as if I was standing in a fugitive lineup.

I was humiliated – not content to chew me out privately, he needed an audience to witness my fear and humiliation.

The nurse touched my nose, and then again. “Oh my…” she gasped, looking to the doctor.

“Mrs. Anderson,” the doctor continued, “I have never felt scars this soft in all my years of medical practice. What exactly did you do?”

My mind went blank. It was a surreal moment. I had experienced miracles before – God being merciful to me in impossible situations, but this time was a time I deserved no mercy. I had not done what I was told. I should have faced the consequences of neglecting the steroid cream. I blatantly didn’t use it, and God, for some unknown reason to me, still chose to flood me with mercy and rescue me from the needles.

I never had to have the shots. Even though every patient prior to me had to have them in order to proceed with the surgeries, I did not. God softened those scars. Somehow, the very healing hand of the Great Physician had stretched down to earth and touched my nose and softened those scars beyond what was humanely possible.

God proved himself to me that day and I also learned something about my own nature. I had always thought before that God delivered me because I deserved it. In this situation, I knew I didn’t deserve his mercy, but he saved me anyway. Sort of the same way he deals with our sin – we don’t deserve his mercy, but he saves us anyway. It’s not about our merit, it is about his faithfulness and his glory.

I had managed to dodge the needles in the face…but only for a time. There was to be another appointment – a visit to the ophthalmologist where I would not be so lucky…

First Face Transplant

2005-12-05T16:04:00.000-06:00

The BBC is reporting the first face transplant has occured in France.

Excerpt from the article:
The woman had lost her nose, lips and chin after being savaged by a dog. In the controversial operation, tissues, muscles, arteries and veins were taken from a brain-dead donor and attached to the patient's lower face. Doctors stress the woman will not look like her donor, but nor will she look like she did before the attack - instead she will have a "hybrid" face.

Here is CNN's report

Here is MSNBC's report
(Includes some drawings)

Here is New Scientist's report

Here is Yahoo News' report
(Discusses ethical concerns of procedure)

Vicki's Story, Part Six

2005-12-05T15:58:00.001-06:00

Click here to read Part One
Click here to read Part Two
Click here to read Part Three
Click here to read Part Four
Click here to read Part Five

Part Six

The most bittersweet day of my entire childhood was the day my mom and I drove downtown to my doctor’s office to get the dreaded buttons removed. I was thrilled to be rid of the big, ugly, tight uncomfortable things, but dreading it also as it would be the first in-office procedure I had ever had done….without anesthesia.

It’s one thing to boast of never crying when they knock you out cold every time they touch you. Now would be the test – could I get these buttons pulled out of my face without losing my cool? I was determined – no matter how painful it was – I was not going to cry!

And so there I was in that wooden-chair infested office, flat on my back, holding my mom’s hand. I didn’t say a word. After all, denying pain when someone has their fist all the way up your nose takes a lot of concentration.

The doctor shoved an extremely cold pair of pliers up my nose – farther than I imagined possible. His teeth clenched, both hands gripped around the handles, he pushed on the wire cutters with all his might. I heard a loud snap from within my nose and the wire cutters slid out. My eyes were closed. The doctor announced that he would now remove the buttons. I braced the pending pain by gripping my mom’s hand hard enough to sever it from her wrist.

The doctor put his hand down on my forehead, bearing down his weight on my head to keep it still. With his other hand he pulled the blood-clotted, mangled wire. He threw his arm back and ripped the wire out with the force of a rip cord out of a lawnmower.

Searing pain – like shots of fire – ran through my nose and down into my jaw. Rebracing his free hand on my forehead he pulled again. Hot streaks of pain shot up into my eyes, filling every ounce of my head with shooting pain. “I won’t cry…I won’t cry…” I thought as I gripped mom’s hand even tighter. I took a deep breath as the doctor ripped the wire over and over again, like a sadistic clown pulling his never-ending train of wire hankys from out of my eye sockets.

At last, he was finished. It was done. My body filled with a warm joy. Certainly this is the way an athlete feels after a game-winning touchdown or a soldier limping up to receive his purple heart in front of cheering peers. I always felt a physical feeling of overwhelming triumph whenever I survived a painful ordeal without tears. I couldn’t control anything happening to me. I had no choices, no options. But I could choose to not cry – I could control one thing at least.

“Do you want to keep your buttons for posterity sake?” The nurse chirped happily.

“Are you crazy? No! Of course I don’t want them!” I spat. I used to get toys and lollipops when I had to endure pain in doctor’s offices and this woman had the nerve to offer me my buttons. I didn’t save them, but now I wish I had. I didn’t realize at the time what trophies those things truly were.

I jumped off the table, smiling. I looked over at mom, she smiled back, rubbing the blood out of the hand I had practically torn off during the ordeal. I walked over to the mirror and examined my new face. My eyes were pretty swollen. Soft pink circles now book-ended my nose the way the buttons used to. I didn’t even care. They buttons had come off just in time. School pictures were two weeks away. The pink circles would be long gone by then.

I was so distracted by the mirror’s new reflection that I had primarily been ignoring my doctor’s chatter. Usual nonsense – make another appointment….fill this prescription…get this special cream….have Vicki rub the cream into the button sores three times a day…

And then my heart sank. “The cream will soften the scar tissue,” the doctor droned on. “We can’t do more surgery until the scars have softened. The cream never works, but we’ll try it for now. Next time she comes in we’ll start the steroid injections.”

“Injections?” I said, spinning on my heels to face the doctor. “You mean shots?”

The doctor nodded with no emotion.

“Shots? On my face?”

“Make the appointment for a month from now…” the doctor said turning away from me.

“Please…I don’t want shots on my face…” I said…almost betraying my “no tears” rule.

In a moment of unorthodox sympathy, the doctor turned to me. “I’ll make you a deal. If your scars are soft enough a month from now, I’ll let you keep using the cream instead of the shots. But I must warn you….the cream never works.”

That night, locked alone in the bathroom with the big silver tube of cream in my hand, I put gobs of ointment on my tender, throbbing scars and rubbed until my fingers went numb. “Please God….please God,” the prayer reverberated in my head and I applied more cream to my nose. “God, please don’t make me get shots in my nose,” I begged.

Unfortunately, I was eleven and my discipline ran out shortly after that first night. Before I knew it, my doctor’s appointment was the very next day, and I hadn’t picked up that tube of cream in weeks.

“Oh God, please help me…” I cried as I sat locked in the bathroom the night before that fatal appointment. “Please soften these scars, Jesus….please….”

Plastic Surgery Nightmares

2005-12-05T13:58:00.001-06:00

I saw a lengthy documentary on television yesterday. It was entitled, “THS Investigates: Plastic Surgery Nightmares.” The show was quick to point out that statistically, most of the nine millions cosmetic operations performed in the United States each year are successful, but that those that are not can usually be avoided.

The conclusion of the program listed several considerations one should evaluate before picking a plastic surgeon and going through with plastic surgery.

Research. Many “botched jobs” are due to the impatience of the patient who did not do enough (or any) preliminary research before selecting a surgeon. Once a physician has been selected, locate them on your state’s State Medical Board website and check out their credentials.
Awareness. Note that physicians who are licensed are licensed in the general field of surgery. A doctor who is licensed does not mean he is necessary specifically licensed to do cosmetic surgery. This means, any licensed physician in your state is legally permitted to practice procedures for which he has no experience or training (should (s)he wish). They can self-designate their areas of expertise and practice any procedure that they choose. Licensing alone should not be reason enough to trust your selected physician.
Board Certification. Again, check the fine print. A surgeon can be legitimately “Board Certified” but not be specifically board certified in cosmetic or plastic surgery. There is a big difference between a Board Certified Plastic Surgeon and a Certified Cosmetic Surgeon. Know the difference before you select your surgeon.
Hospital Privileges. If your procedure is going to be done in a physician’s office as opposed to a hospital you will want to verify why. Many times, surgeons who are not board certified in plastic surgery are disallowed from performing surgery in hospitals.
Know the Risks. Most surgeries have risks, so carefully think through your motives and the risks and side effects before signing on the dotted line. Don’t make the decision to have irreversible surgery if you are going through an unusually rough or emotional time in your life or as a reactionary step after being criticized. Understand that plastic surgery is many times irreversible.
Patience. Don’t rush into the decision. If a physician says you have to wait three weeks before having a procedure done – wait the three weeks. If a physician tells you to wait a year between surgeries – wait the year! Oftentimes, the plastic surgery nightmares are the result of patients directly opposing physician instructions or physicians doing a second procedure before the patient has had enough time to heal from the first one.
Use Common Sense. Don't pick a surgeon because he has fancy ads on TV or drives an expensive car. Don't pick the cheapest deal -- you get what you pay for! Also, don't go home with a total stranger who claims they have credentials and have a procedure done on their unsterilized living room couch. I know this sounds crazy - but I am alarmed how many women have done things like this.

Face Transplants

2005-11-21T16:15:00.000-06:00

While the concept is as old as Rod Serling, it seems that sci-fi has now reached the labratories. The technology has not been perfected, but scientists and doctors are experimenting with face transplants. (It all seems just a bit creepy to me).

Here is an excerpt from the full article.

A team of doctors at the University of Louisville in Kentucky is moving forward with a plan to attempt the world’s first face transplant. They have applied for permission from the University’s research ethics committee to remove a face from a cadaver and transfer it to a live volunteer willing to go through with the surgery. If approved, the operation could take place before the end of this year.

There are apparently many volunteers willing to undergo a face transplant. While some people who have endured facial disfigurement learn to adjust, others do not. They would gladly take the risks involved in such a surgery for a chance to regain the normalcy that, in our appearance-conscious society where people undergo multiple surgeries just to look younger, is difficult to achieve with a severely deformed face.

The problem is that there are a number of very real and serious risks confronting the first subject. For example, the drugs used to prevent rejection by the body may fail, leaving the recipient with the nightmare of the transplant being rejected and, with death likely to quickly follow, no other options. In addition, the drugs involved are so toxic that cancer, kidney failure and other problems are likely to eventually occur, even if the initial surgery is successful.

Even more challenging is the problem of adjusting to a new face. While those with severe facial deformities might hope for any alternative, a transplanted face that does not work right, looks strange or reminds people of someone who is dead, would pose very difficult challenges to anyone who receives it.

Terukuni Fujii

2005-11-21T16:06:00.000-06:00

Here is a very personal story from the Taipei Times archives that I thought was very insightful. Though I was sometimes teased, I certainly never experienced any persecution or cultural ostracism to this level.

It is the story of a Japanese man named Terukuni Fujii who developed a mark of some sort on his face when he was two years old that developed into benign tumor that grew to deform his face. He seems to have overcome all the odds as I see he is currently a professor of Science of Nursing at a university.

Fujji is now 46 years old. There is a small photo of him included in the article.

Here is a quote from Fujii from the article:

With the release of his autobiography, entitled Face of Destiny, last October, Fujii became a torch bearer for 1 million people in Japan with deformed faces.

"Many of those people tend to cloister themselves at home as others look daggers at them," Fujii said in a recent interview.

"I urge those people to go out and tell others `I suffer, my heart aches,'" from the way they are treated, said Fujii, who has frequently been spat at in the street.

"I have been saying the same thing for two decades ... but there are finally moves to break down the invisible wall" between the handicapped and others, he said.

The Dreaded Buttons!

2005-11-21T15:51:00.000-06:00

I managed to find this old photo. This is probably a few days after the buttons surgery. This picture was taken after I was cleaned up a little, but you can see my eyes are still swollen shut and I think my mouth looks a little funny because of the surgery I had on the roof of my mouth. Here you also can see Papa the banana (was he ever that yellow)?!?!

Day of Discovery

2005-11-14T21:45:00.000-06:00

This summer while I was volunteering at the Joni and Friends family camp in Indiana, myself and several other families attending camp were interviewed.

I got a letter a couple of weeks ago from the producers saying that they have selected some of my interview segments for one of their upcoming programs.

The show will highlight lessons that families of disabilities have learned, as well as the joys and struggles they have experienced. The program will be a conglomeration of video footage shot at the family camp along with family photos.

The program, Day of Discovery, will air on February 19. The show airs on the i Network (formerly PAX Television) at 7:30 a.m. on Sundays. A listing of local station air times can be found by following the Day of Discovery link at their web site: www.rbc.org.

Vicki's Story - Part Five

2005-11-14T15:15:00.000-06:00

Click here to read Part One
Click here to read Part Two
Click here to read Part Three
Click here to read Part Four

Part Five

The first day of sixth grade was hard, but in retrospect, went as smoothly as it would for any “new kid.” For the most part, the kids were still young enough (and curious enough) where they took my sutured-up face in stride and I made friends pretty quickly. Sixth grade was really the end of Innocence for me. Seventh and eight grade proved to be two of the most difficult years of my life. Again, in retrospect, I don’t think I suffered any more than any other junior high kid who had the misfortune of being too tall, too skinny, too chubby, too shy, too smart, or who had too much acne. In other words, no one gets by with anything when they’re 12. And in fairness, I dished it out just as bad (if not worse) than everybody else. Junior High is the closest I ever got to thinking Darwin was a genius. Nowhere else in the world does one see evidence of “Survival of the fittest” than in the confines of a junior high classroom.

By seventh grade, I was a chubby pear-shaped girl, I was pale as a ghost, flat-chested, with a deformed face, completely non-athletic, shy, and I had braces…on the top teeth only. To make matters worse, I knew nothing about pop culture, popular music, movies or anything else any “cool” kid would be talking about. About the only thing I was good at was spelling….which made me even more of a nerd.

I hated gym class more than anything else in the world. Not only was I an uncoordinated weakling but my last name began with an “A” – which means I got to go first. About three or four kids into the activity, the whole class would be bored and disinterested, but that first guinea pig with the “A” names – all eyes were on us – one false move and you got it. You know, nothing reverberates off those high gym ceilings more than the cacophonic laughter of judgmental twelve-year olds.

I was fully convinced that 99% of my problems would go away if they would outlaw junior high gym class. Those horrible uniforms that earned for me daily taunts about my pale, skinny bird legs…my inability to score a goal even when I was a foot from the goal and the goalie was off on the sidelines eating an orange wedge. And what is with those dodge balls? I must have had a homing device in my forehead – every single dodge ball ever launched between the years of 1984-1986 seemed to land square between my eyes (which of course sent my face bleeding like mad because of those blasted buttons wired to my face)!

Then, as if things weren't bad enough, some teacher had the bright idea to start a softball league for the seventh and eight graders. I had no desire or intention to join. But the classes were small and lo and behold, EVERY kid in all of seventh and eight grade signed up. After hearing, “You didn’t sign up for softball?!” a hundred times, I crumbled under the peer pressure and signed up.

The dreaded day came – the first day of practice. The entire seventh and eighth grade was out on the softball field next to the school. The teacher decided to give every single student a chance to bat.

My heart started beating. I was more nervous about trying to bat in front of my classmates than I was before my last surgery. “What if I strike out?” “What if they make fun of me?” “What if someone trips me when I try to run to base?” “What if the whole crowd laughs at me?” Or, “What if the pitcher, just to be mean, whales me in the face with the softball?” Hey….it was known to happen before with the dodge ball, so my concern was not completely paranoid.

Then I had a bright idea! I could stall my turn and if I waited long enough, my mom would be there to pick me up and I could get away! I had found my way out – I started to breathe easy.

I heard a car pull up and turned with anticipation and was shocked to see, not my mom’s car, but my dad’s. My dad NEVER came to pick me and my brother up – never. My heart started to beat. He came out of the car and walked toward the field. Dad was always in a hurry to go. “Let’s go, Dad!” I pleaded. “No, no….I want to see you and your brother bat!”

What?!?

I was so scared. I prayed and prayed that the kids wouldn’t make fun of me in front of my dad. I didn’t want him to know how mean they were to me. I went out of my way to not tell my parents about all of their cruelty. I didn’t need sympathy. It was shameful to me to admit to my parents that I was a freak that nobody liked. I had tried so hard to hide all that from them – and here was my dad, on the sidelines of a baseball diamond, in front of my entire class, about to watch me strike out and get laughed at. The secret would be out.

I panicked. I was so desperate I actually decided to admit defeat (this was long before I learned that telling your dad something meant he would immediately come up with a solution).

“Dad, I can’t bat. I’m going to strike out.”

I was merely forewarning him. It was just a fact, nothing more.

“Go grab that bat!” Dad said.

My heart sank….he was supposed to just accept the fact that his daughter was an athletic moron and take me home. Now, I had just unwittingly gotten myself a batting lesson.

I went and picked up the bat and dad gave me a spontanius batting lesson right there on the sidelines. He showed me how to stand, where to position the bat, where to look, when to swing. I humored him, but knew once I got up there, I’d panic, louse up, get hit in the face, and have to face the humilation of my dad witnessing the whole treacherous experience.

Dad’s coaching session was interrupted by the teacher yelling, “VICKI! You’re up!”

“Go get ‘em!” my dad said patting me on the back. He had such a huge smile on his face. Such expectation. I was about to humiliate myself and my dad in one fell swing in front of every kid I knew and he didn't even know it.

I got to home base. My arch-nemesis was the catcher – sitting there cockily whispering, “You’re gonna choke, Anderson.” I felt like I was stuck in a really bad after school special. This was a nightmare.

I looked up at the pitcher – none other than the eight grade atheletic king, Hein Lee of South Korea. His muscles buldged as he warmed up his swinging arm. My heart was beating so loud it was as if it had jumped out of my flat chest and started running around the bases without me.

“You stink, Anderson….” The catcher antagonized.

I looked at my dad on the sidelines, he was grinning like a Muppet.

“Oh God…..help me” I prayed. I sucked the tears back into my face. I was so scared. “Please don’t let the ball hit my face,” I prayed. “Oh God, please don’t let me strike out.” I positioned my feet just like dad had showed me. “God, please don’t let me strike out, please…” I took a deep breath and lined up the bat with my shoulder.

The ball came flying at me. “Choke, choke….” The catcher chanted.

I heard my dad yell, “Now, Vic!”

I swung that blasted bat with all my might, then I heard something I had never heard before and would never hear ever again --- the crack of wood slamming against a softball. The ball retaliated and catapulted through the air. I was in shock, I stood there just staring at the ball.

“RUN! Run to first!” I heard someone screaming.

My feet took over and I ran to first base…and then to second….and then to third. By the time my foot hit home plate, the outfielders were still in the neighboring yard to the school looking for the ball.

“SAFE!” the ump called. I looked down at the catcher with a smug look of victory on my buttoned-up face. “Pure luck,” he sneered.

I didn’t even care…I walked over to the sidelines with the echo of my dad’s voice screaming, “Go, Vic! Go, Vic!” ringing in my ears. It was the happiest day of that entire school year.

It didn’t earn me any respect or any kindness, but it taught me something about God. Here He is with a universe to run – the Space Shuttle Challenger had just blown up, there were things going on in the world – big things – and here was God, taking the time to bend His ear to a silly seventh-grade girl begging for the strength to hit a stupid softball.

Sometimes the softball incident would come to mind to remind me that God was there, he was listening, he did hear my prayers, he did care about me, he did have a plan for my life. But as I got older, the memories became fuzzy. I forgot all about buttons and baseballs and God's goodness...

Down Syndrome Testing & Abortion

2005-11-11T00:15:00.000-06:00

Al Mohler and Hugh Hewitt have both recently reported on their blogs some disturbing new trends in genetic testing, Down Syndrome, and Abortion.

The New England Journal of Medicine reported on Thursday that a fetal screening test for Down Syndrome has been developed that can detect Down Syndrome as early as the first trimester of pregnancy.

Or, to quote a corresponding article in the Washington Post: A first trimester screening test can reliably identify fetuses likely to be born with Down Syndrome...

The word "likely" really shakes me.

Instead of pouring all of this money and research into developing screening tests, why doesn't the medical industry pour that money and research into curing Downs?

Hat Tip: JT

Craniofacial Birth Defect Research

2005-11-10T09:43:00.000-06:00

I just read an article posted on the USC Newsroom website. Though the article is a few years old, there are some very interesting statistics included regarding cleft palate births.

One in 700 American children is born with cleft lip or cleft palate, although the incidence is one in 300 for native Americans and one in 500 for Hispanic and Asian populations.
Every child born with this condition needs four major surgeries,” said Shuler, director of USC’s Center for Craniofacial Molecular Biology. “In California, these multiple surgeries cost the state’s children’s services agency an average of $1.5 million per child

Incidentally, the article concludes by saying:

“Some of these birth defects are genetic, some are environmental and some are both,” Shuler said, “but they all result from mistakes during fundamental reactions that occur as the craniofacial complex forms.”

On one level, I can read that paragraph and understand and agree completely with every word. From a medical, physiological, and development perspective, we can determine what is "normal" and "abnormal" by the frequency and rarity of which something occurs.

However, viewing the sentence through a spiritual lens creates some tension. When referring to babies supernaturally birthed by a Creator, we must ponder what words like "mistake" do to misrepresent the sovereign and intentional nature of God.

To believe that God knits us together in our mother's womb and to also believe that sometimes mistakes occur in the womb, is to conclude that God has made a mistake. But Scripture says that we are fearfully and wonderfully made. (That verse isn't just for the pretty people)!

Is living with a deformed face difficult? Yes.
Is it painful? Yes
Do I wish it would go away? Yes.
Do I believe it was a huge mistake and God dropped the ball? No.

I know there are occasions when we have to use words like "normal" and "mistake" -- I point this out only because I want to make it abundantly clear that, biblically, God doesn't make mistakes when he knits us together. Our lives (and faces) are not the result of freak accidents or uncontrollable circumstances, or fate, of bad luck, or the sin of our parents, or whatever other lie we have conjured up and come to believe. And that doesn't just go for those of us with deformed faces - it goes for everybody.

Vicki's Story, Part Four

2005-11-07T12:57:00.000-06:00

Click here to read Part One.
Click here to read Part Two.
Click here to read Parth Three.

Part Four

My eyes were black. They were so swollen it looked as if they were hiding ping-pong balls instead of eyes behind them. A large tubular-shaped piece of cotton had been sutured to my nose. The cotton crawled up my nose, its whiteness buried in dark brown blood, strapped to my nose with dark black thread. It looked like a leech had crawled up my nose and died there in mid-motion. On both sides of my eyes, placed to the left and right of the bridge of my nose, were the infamous “buttons” that I had heard about for many months but could not, or perhaps would not, imagine. They were bigger than I expected – perhaps the size of quarters. An off-white rubbery button. Inside the buttons was a mass of tangled wire, woven together with bloody cotton balls. The inner knots, crusty with dried blood, protruded out of the center of the buttons. I reached up with my index finger and touched the center of the button as lightly as I could. It was hard as a rock. The mere touch sent a painful burning sensation through my nose. But perhaps the most grotesque thing of all was the pathetic expression upon my face. My mouth was down turned into a frown so deep it was almost like a caricature. “How could I expect anyone to look upon this?” I wondered. Here I was, looking at the reflection, staring in a trance at the grotesqueness of it all. And perhaps that’s why I never faulted the onlookers in the stores and on the streets too much. I myself was transfixed by the horror of it, sitting there alone in my hospital room, starring transfixed at that make-up mirror over and over again as if I were watching some sort of television show. And then, the mood would be broken, when I realized that the image in the mirror was no act of Hollywood, but indeed my very own face.

I didn’t cry. I couldn’t. It would have hurt to have touched the buttons to wipe away the tears.

I wish I could remember now what was going through my head at the time. But my guess is, it was nothing profound. I was eleven years old. It hurt to move and I was scared to tell the nurse I had to go to the bathroom for fear that walking there, or moving to maneuver a bedpan underneath me would hurt too badly. So, I sat there in pain, praying it away. Finally, after about a day of holding it, the nurse announced that if I didn’t go to the bathroom soon, I’d have to have an enema. She left the room and I asked my dad, “Dad, what’s an enema?” I can’t remember his exact metaphorical interpretation, but it was descriptive enough for me to hit the nurse call button immediately after that and tell her I had to go to the bathroom.

Now, around this time, I had a collection of stuffed animals. I had a special love for the stuffed bananas with faces on them – the kinds you could win at dime slides at the fair. I had a couple dozen of them in varying sizes. But being still a child, the thing I wanted more than anything in the world was one of the big three or four foot long ones – you know, the ones that no one could ever win.

A couple of days after my surgery, when my eyes were no longer swollen shut, my family came into my room. I looked at them and they all had huge smiles on their faces. When I asked what was going on, dad told me to turn my head and look to my right. I did so and there laying beside me on my hospital bed was one of the big five foot tall bananas!

For that moment, everything disappeared – even the buttons. My heart filled with a flood of joy and I felt like my heart would explode. It’s one thing to get something you’ve always wanted, but another thing to get something that you thought you would never get. My dad had gone and personally talked to the owner of ValleyFair and told him about me. My dad offered an exorbitant amount of money to buy one of the bananas from him. In the end, the owner gave one to him as a gift.

I remember being alone in hospital at night, turning over and seeing Papa (since he was the dad for all my other littler bananas) looking at me with the biggest smile and bright, laughing eyes. It might seem childish to have felt so loved by such an inatimate object, but for me, it was the only thing in my life that always looked me directly in my face and didn’t turn away, didn’t ask probing personal questions, and always kept smiling.

If only such kindness had been waiting for me on my first day of school…

Fear Not the Disabled

2005-10-26T09:23:00.000-05:00

Christianity Today released an online article this morning on their website, entitled, "Fear Not the Disabled."

The article concludes:
Just as important as physical accommodation is an attitude that welcomes the physically and mentally challenged with open arms. A church that welcomes the disabled is great, but a bolder step forward is for churches to be inclusive. When people with disabilities are recognized as participants, not as "the needy," we all benefit. Paul reminded the Corinthians that "the parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable." The disabled need the church—almost as much as the church needs the disabled.

Hat Tip: JT

Vicki's Story, Part Three

2005-10-24T14:43:00.000-05:00

Click here to read Part One.
Click here to read Part Two.

Part Three

The date was set. What a way to ruin a summer. My surgery was set for the month of July, right after my 11^th birthday. I was scheduled to have a bone graph taken from one of my hips to sculpt bones for the roof of my mouth to correct the partial cleft palate. In addition, the surgeon wanted to work on reconstructing my face. His first project was to work on narrowing the very wide bridge of my nose. In order for the new nose to hold it’s shape, “buttons” would have to be wired through my nose to hold the narrowed bridge tightly in place. This would not only mean a liquid diet for many months, but starting my very first day of junior high school – at a brand new school – with these buttons wired to my nose.

The day arrived and my parents and I drove down to Children’s Hospital at the crack of dawn. I had my dreaded blood test and was then brought to the waiting room. Hospitals did not cater to childhood fears twenty years ago and so when the time came for me to go into the operating room, I had to say good-bye to my parents. I walked, alone, on my own two feet all the way into the operating room. I looked around at all the busy doctors in stiffly starched lab coats – all of their identities hidden behind blue face masks. I saw silver trays full of various knives and scalpels and needles. I wondered for a moment if this is how Stephen the martyr felt standing around with a bunch of men in a field of stones.

“Hop up here, honey!” The anesthesiologist almost sang, as if he were helping me into the seat of an amusement park ride.

I hopped up on the operating table. “I won’t cry…I won’t cry…I won’t cry…” ran like a broken record through my head as I laid down, squinting into the large overhead light to the symphony of clanking instruments.

A thick rubber mask was put over my face and I was told to breathe in the gas. Sometimes, when I walk into a newly painted house or catch a whiff of a glass of wine, I am thrown back to this moment when my nostrils filled with the stench of sleeping gas. My heart did summersaults as the room began to spin and I listened to myself talking to the doctor, wondering how I was able to answer questions that I never even heard him ask – hearing myself from outside of my head – and then waking up hours later, as if nothing had even happened.

I laid in my bed. I couldn’t move. My hip was burning from the graph incision, I couldn’t even roll over. The roof of my mouth was sore and when I tried to talk, uncut sutures hung down and tickled my tongue. I couldn’t open my eyes because they were swollen shut. I could hear my mom’s voice next to me.

I never detected her voice cracking or any emotion. She was always so kind and loving, but it wouldn’t be until I was much older that I would realize this was all very hard and scary for my mom too – not just me.

“What do I look like?” I moaned.

It was always the first thing I asked. What did I expect her to say? You look great?!

My parents and brother stayed for a while but then visiting hours were over. Jeff had been in the corner of the room most of the time listening to his headphones. His walkman was his prized possession. I wasn’t even allowed to touch it. He was 13 and pretty disinterested in me at that time in life. Mom leaned over my bed and kissed me and said she’d be back. Dad kissed me and said he loved me. Jeff called, “Bye, Vic!” from the door and then all was quiet.

A couple seconds later, I heard footsteps and assumed the nurse had come in to ask if I needed anything.

“Hey Vic.”

It was my brother. He had snuck back into the room.

“I love you” he said and put something into my hand. I didn’t know what it was through the I.V.

“I love you too” I stuttered, overwhelmed with emotion – never having heard my brother ever say this to me.

“Well, bye” he said – the moment passed – and he ran out of the room.

I fumbled with my I.V. tube and put the item into my open hand and felt to see what he had left for me. It was his prized walkman. I tried to hold back the tears because with my eyes swollen shut it hurt even to wipe a Kleenex across them.

Feeling that I was now safely alone, I struggled to sit up in my bed. I had to sway back and forth very slowly to move without inciting my hip to burn in pain. After much effort, I was sitting up. I reached my arms out to the side of the bed, fumbling through the air, looking for the bed table on wheels that should be parked next to the bed. My knuckles hit wood and I rolled the table over my lap. I slid the table top away from me revealing the little storage unit under the table. I flipped up the little makeup mirror and leaned as close to it as I could.

I reached my hands up to my eyelids and using all ten fingers, I pried my swollen eyelids open and looked into the mirror…

Beauty in the Beast

2005-10-24T14:15:00.000-05:00

Beauty in the Beast is a book written by Sally Klein O'Connor. The subtitle of the book is, Breaking the Spell of the Mirror and her tagline is, "For those who look into mirrors and see only what they are not."

You can read the first chapter of the book on her website. Sally also has a music ministry and her website includes concert information, songs, photos, as well as a place to sign up for her newsletter.

Here is the write up about the book:
When she was eight years old, Sally was bitten by a dog on her face. It was not the mark that caused the most damage, but the cruelty of her peers calling her "Scarface." The name nurtured the teeth and claws of the beast in Sally's soul. As she grew up, she bought into the lies that she could never be really accepted by those around her -- and especially by herself.

But the One who made her in His image began to speak the truth into her heart. As God continues to restore her, Sally is learning to see the beauty of the One who calls her His own and that His beauty lives inside her.

I Saw Joni Dance

2005-10-19T09:21:00.000-05:00

The following article was written by Sam Storm of Enjoying God Ministries. Sam was at the Desiring God national conference with us a couple of weekend ago. Sam, like myself, and hundreds others, no doubt, saw Joni "dancing" in her wheelchair as the choir sang, "We Are Marching in the Light of God." It was truly a very moving sight to behold.

I Saw Joni Dance
Sam Storms
October 10, 2005

One of the highlights of the Desiring God National Conference this past weekend was the appearance of Joni Eareckson Tada on Saturday night. As most of you know, Joni, a quadriplegic, was paralyzed 38 years ago in a diving accident. She is going to turn 56 years of age next week.

Joni, together with her husband Ken, and a team from Joni and Friends Ministries, were on their way to England and then to Africa, but arranged to stop over in Minneapolis at John Piper's request and address the conference on the theme of Suffering and the Sovereignty of God. Needless to say, it is doubtful that anyone present, whether those of us in the audience or any of the speakers, has suffered the way Joni has. And few understand its relation to the sovereignty of God with the biblical clarity and wisdom that she does.

She delivered a stunningly great message. That in itself isn't news, for Joni has been speaking on this theme for many years and the clarity of her convictions remains strong and articulate. I first met Joni in 1991 when we were speakers at a Ligonier Conference hosted by R. C. Sproul in Orlando, Florida. I felt so honored to meet her and even more so when she agreed to write the Foreword to my book, "To Love Mercy: Becoming a Person of Love, Acceptance, and Forgiveness" (NavPress; now out of print).

But this past Saturday night I saw something that was as impressive, if not more so, than anything I heard. The worship that night began with the rousing song, "We are Marching in the Light of God" (at least, I think that's the title). It was great to hear so many Reformed folk singing and, yes, actually moving (ever so slightly!) while they sang! But nothing could compare with what was happening on the right hand side of the stage.

Joni handles her wheelchair as deftly as any Nascar driver on a racetrack. No sooner had the music begun than Joni began to "dance". As much as a quadriplegic can dance, she danced. Joni has just enough movement and strength in her hands and shoulders to grip the controls on her chair and maneuver herself without the aid of others. Suddenly the chair began to move with the music. She thrust forward, then backwards, then forwards again, then backwards. Smoothly, and yet with obvious passion, she turned to the right, then the left, then the right again.

I can't prove it, but my guess is that 2,500 pairs of eyes in that auditorium were fixed on the dancing quadriplegic! Suddenly, the forward and backward and side to side movements gave way to spinning. Well, as much as a paralyzed person can spin. Joni began to turn her chair in circles, first clockwise, then back again. If she ceased her movements, it was only so that she could lift her contorted hands as high as her paralysis would allow. It wasn't very high, but who's measuring!

How Joni moved and "danced" is secondary. What's amazing is THAT she did. What struck me, as I trust it struck others, was that a woman who has suffered so horribly and painfully and persistently for 38 years so loves her God and finds him so utterly worthy of her trust and hope that she WANTED to dance.

Joni shared in her message how she struggled spiritually in the early days and months after her accident. She wrestled with bitterness and self-pity and anger at God and longed to die rather than live in that condition. But here she was, 38 years later, celebrating God, enjoying God, honoring and glorifying God. Not simply in her mind or her spirit but with her body as best that body could worship.

I was standing, as were most of the others. All of us could choose when to sit down, were we to tire of being on our feet. We could easily clap or shove our hands into our pockets. Throughout the conference, up till that night, I had taken for granted that I could walk out of the auditorium under my own power and feed myself and tie my shoes and bathe and run and go to the bathroom without anyone's help. Joni, and others like her, don't take that for granted, because they can't do any of those things. Yet, there she was, "dancing" in joy and delight and singing, "We are Marching in the Light of God"! Marching indeed.

I thought to myself, "What she wouldn't give to do what you and I can but won't." I'm talking about worshiping God with her body. She longs to praise and celebrate her God, not simply in spirit and mind and soul, but with her arms and legs and hands as well. That comes easily for the rest of us, at least it does in the physical sense. Yet, many Christians are terrified of raising their hands or kneeling or clapping or, dare I say it, dancing?

I'm not saying that everyone has to worship in the same way. I'm not saying that you and I are obligated to any particular physical expression when we praise our glorious God. But perhaps we need to think a bit more than we do about how to worship as holistic beings, men and women whose bodies have been bought with a price and are now the temple of the Holy Spirit.

I don't want to put thoughts in Joni's mind or words in her mouth. But I can't help but wonder if every once in a while she looks out on an audience, and says: "Do they have any idea what a glorious gift and privilege it is to be able to celebrate and thank God and honor him with their bodies? I don't understand why they stand there like vertical cadavers." Actually, I don't think Joni would ever say anything like that. I think she's far too humble, too mature and obsessed with her God than to use precious energy to criticize the rest of us for how we do or don't worship the Lord.

So, let me put those words in my mouth and speak them to myself (and to you, if you think they apply). Sam, do you have any idea what a glorious gift and privilege it is to be able to celebrate and thank God and honor him with your body? There are many others who would give almost anything to be able to do what you can, but often won't. Yes, of course, worship is first and fundamentally an issue of the heart. It is the attitude of our minds and the passion of our souls and the commitment of our wills that we bring to God as we declare his majesty and proclaim his mighty works. But as I said, we are more than minds. We are bodies. We will always be bodies. So let us honor God with them, however that may seem fitting to you as you consider the magnitude of divine grace and mercy and love and beauty.

I know how self-conscious people can be in a crowd, especially a Christian crowd. What will others think? What will they say? Will I look like a fool? A weakling? An overly emotional, theological lightweight? I don't think Joni cared what any of us thought. Perhaps if the time comes when she is supposed to worship us, she'll give it some consideration. Until then (which is never, of course), she's only concerned with what God thinks.

Finally, the greatest thing in all this is what it tells us, not about Joni, but about her God. What kind of God is this who can inspire such freedom and joy in one who, from a human point of view, would appear to have every reason to hate him? What kind of God is this who can evoke such confidence and trust in a person who is so horribly disabled? What kind of God is this who has the qualities and characteristics and attributes and beauty and glory that he can be found worthy of the praise and gratitude and "dancing" of a woman who's spent the last 38 years in a wheelchair? Wow! Now that's some God!

Disabilities and Abortion

2005-10-18T09:48:00.000-05:00

A friend sent me a link this morning to an article entitled, The Abortion Debate No One Wants to Have. The writer of the article has a grown daughter with Down's Syndrome and is tackling the tough issue of prenatal testing used to weed out children with Disabilities from the general populous.

I could say a hundred different things right now. There are so many downsides to a world without disabled children! Even now, with all of its flaws, America has a lot of facades -- even our freeways and trash dumpsters have to be situated in the midst of planted flower beds. In a world of poverty and suffering and war and terror, America is the Disneyland of the planet. We look around at the pretty flower boxes and children laughing and perfectly manicured lawns and smiling caricatures and sno cone machines and think, "This is reality."

But it is not reality. Disabilities are, among many other things, mercy to a dying world. When we look at quarter of a million dollar houses and bright red Corvettes, we think, "What a wonderful world!" When we see children with disabilities, we are reminded, if even for a moment, that life doesn't always run according to our plans. For a brief moment, our false sense of reality is shaken - we are forced to realize we live in a fallen world where people get sick, people suffer, and where all of us will eventually die.

In America, those thought are all buried beneath layer upon layer of funny T.V. shows, restaurants, Krispy Kreme donuts, new cars, vacations, paychecks, and shoe shopping. Name your distraction - we all have a million of them.

It is not wise, nor healthy, nor beneficial to go through life never realizing that we are sailing on a sinking ship. Reality is a good thing to taste now and then. Never thinking about death or growing old will only make those inevitable fates all the harder to deal with when they happen to you, and they both will.

I believe that God has a thousand good purposes behind Disabilities. The one I am highlighting here is only one of them. But let me tell you, from a personal standpoint -- anytime I think life is designed around my having fun or being comfortable - or that God is designed around making me happy -- all I have to do is look in a mirror and see a face full of scars to be reminded that life is much deeper and more difficult than the American media would have me believe.

Interacting with children and families with Disabilities is difficult. By that, I mean, that it takes more thought and care to meet their needs. It can be intimidating. There is always risk of offense or saying something foolish or something wrong. There is the temptation to rudely stare or ask probing questions that are too personal. And there is the gut-wrenching empathy that we must wrestle with for days after the encounter as we wonder why some people are called to suffer so much in this world.

But these are all good things, despite being difficult or uncomfortable. Learning how to deal with people compassionately, learning how to judge a person on the inside rather that the outside, learning how to weep with those who weep -- these are all good, character-building, Christ-like attributes, and Disabilities is one place in the world where we can find a place to nurture those characteristics and behaviors.

Scripture says that God chooses the weak and despised things of the world to shame the wise. We would do best to follow God's lead. And by His grace, we will learn to value the things that He values.

Vicki's Story, Part Two

2005-10-17T15:00:00.000-05:00

To read part one, click here.

Part Two:

The dentist told my mom I needed braces. As far as I was concerned, this was great news. I was at that age where girls talked about braces and broken legs and crutches and glasses like they were Grammy Awards.

So, I left the office that afternoon with my pink toothbrush, container of floss, and daydreams of showing up for the first day of Sixth Grade, at my new school, with a sparkling metal smile. Life was good.

Soon after that we went to the orthodontist that my dentist had recommended. He took some x-rays and concluded that I did indeed need braces but he discovered a partial cleft palate (no bones in the roof of my mouth) and was concerned to put the braces on until it was decided whether or not I needed surgery in my mouth to correct the palate.

And so, soon after that appointment, we went to a surgeon’s office to have my cleft palate checked out. Mom and I drove downtown to the office buildings across the street from Children’s Hospital in Minneapolis. I had never been downtown before. We walked into the doctor’s office. The waiting room was empty, save a room full of handmade wooden chairs and benches. I sat down on one of the hard chairs and looked around while mom filled out the paperwork on the clipboard.

Eventually, we were called into the office – a small room with a small sink, an examination table, desk, and more of those wooden, slatted chairs. I took the chair next to the desk and awaited the doctor’s arrival.

Mom and I had been guessing for weeks what the doctor would look like. We had made a game of it. We had a complete profile in our head – white lab coat, perfectly coiffed short dark brown hair, big brown eyes, a stethoscope around his neck with the end tucked into his lab coat pocket, a big grin upon his face, and a pocketfull of lollipops.

The door cracked and mom and I looked at each other with wide eyes. Mom dramatically raised an eyebrow, Sherlock Holmes-style. I suppressed a giggle. The door shut and the doctor crossed the room and sat down without a word, not even looking to check whether his patients were even in the room. He immediately set to scribbling notes in my newly- christened medical file.

I looked at mom with a look of horror only to see the same look on her face staring back at me. The doctor was nothing like we imagined him to look like. He was tall and gangly, deathly serious, with Abraham Lincoln-like facial features, and an unruly spray of bangs protruding away from his forehead in dark locks (mind you, this was long before Conan made such a look famous).

Without a word, the doctor turned to me and firmly planted his hand on my forehead. With his other hand he started squishing and pushing at my nose like it was a wad of Play-Doh. From under his grip, my eyes strayed over to where my mom was sitting. My eyes said to her, “What’s going on?” Her expression said, “I haven’t the faintest!”

After a minute or two, my mom interjected.

“We were sent here by her orthodontist.”

“Mmm” he grunted, continuing to pulverize my nose.

“…you know, to check out the roof of her mouth. To see if she needed surgery before
getting braces.”

This seemed to get through. He dropped his hands from my face and faced my mom for the first time since entering the room. I rubbed my nose back into shape. He didn’t say a word.

“She has a partial cleft palate,” my mom continued.

Without a command, he simply took his hand, put it on my jaw and jerked my mouth open. He took a quick peek, grunted and said, “Yeah, she’ll need surgery,” closed my mouth back up and continued to squeeze at my nose.

He then dropped his right hand from my forehead and simultaneously began to squeeze at my nose with his left hand while drawing detailed pencil drawings of my face with his right. I was beginning to wonder if they were going to cement those braces to my nose.

At last he dropped his pencil to the desk. “Mrs. Anderson, I am a reconstructive surgeon. Is Vicki seeing a doctor for her face?”

“No,” my mom replied, “Her surgeons at Children’s Hospital Philadelphia said there was
nothing more they could do.”

“Well, there’s plenty more I can do,” he retorted.

And with that simple phrase, my entire world collapsed.

Self-Evident Truth

2005-10-17T11:17:00.000-05:00

A friend of mine has just launched the website for her ministry: Self-Evident Truth. She is still adding the finishing touches to the site, but it is up and running. Please go and take a look!

From the website:

Abortion hurts. Education empowers.

SET’s motto is: “The humanity of the unborn is evident.” It is our goal to help others understand the horror of abortion, and to equip pro-lifers to help others understand that as well. The reason that abortion is so horrible is because the unborn are fully human. Abortion kills that human life.

SET focuses on:

Education. People aren’t able to make a wise decision about anything without first learning the facts about the decision facing them. Our goal is to open the eyes and minds of young and old alike to the facts surrounding abortion. How can we possibly do that?

We’ve developed an educational display focusing on little known, yet vitally important, facts about abortion. We believe that if people are open-minded enough to accept the facts, then they will choose what is best for them and their baby, namely, not aborting.

Perfect Timing

2005-10-17T09:32:00.000-05:00

A very strange thing happened last night that I feel compelled to share because I think the story is a lesson in God's sovereignty and His goodness.

I was leaving my parent's house around 8:30 PM. I was anxious to get home because I didn't want to stay up too late. As I was driving down the main street to get to the freeway, I realized I would be driving by Mr. Movies. About five weeks ago, my dad and I were in there renting movies and struck up a conversation with the night manager. He was a young guy who said he had been an athiest for 18 years until he was hospitalized and miraculously saved from this accident. So, he made the leap from athiest to diest, but still struggled finding proof that Jesus is the Son of God. But his search seemed sincere. A couple days later I bought him some C.S. Lewis books.

Those books have been sitting in the back seat of my car for over a month. So, when I realized last night that I would be driving right by the movie place and the books were still in my car, it would be a good time to go and see if he was there. I hesitated briefly, "What if he isn't there?" or "What if he doesn't want the books?" But after a brief mental tug-o-war, I pulled into Mr. Movies.

He was there and he very warmly received the books. We talked for about ten minutes about spiritual things and then I left.

When I got home, I was a bit curious over why there were about half a dozen people standing in my driveway. I pulled into my garage and went out to ask them what was up. Turns out, about ten minutes before I pulled in, a drunk driver had come careening around the bend, swerved off the road, plowed into my driveway, hit my tree, and tore through the neighbor's yard, back onto the road, and went screaming down the street. The tire tread marks from the car were clearly visible in both of our yards.

It didn't dawn on my right away, and perhaps I am just being overly dramatic, but the neighbor said I missed the drunk driver by about ten minutes -- which was about the time I spent in Mr. Movies talking to the night manager. And so, it is hard not to wonder, had I not stopped to give him the books, would I have turned into my neighborhood ten minutes earlier only to be met with a head-on collision? God only knows.

At any rate, it's interesting to think that a couple of books in the back seat of my car -- something meant to save someone else's life - perhaps saved my own.

Kazakhstan Photos

2005-10-12T13:50:00.000-05:00

I put up a tiny sampling of our photos. You can view them here.

Unfortunately, you have to put in your e-mail address and a password, but it only takes a second and you are not put on any mailing lists or bound to any obligations.

The photos are mostly of my team: Sonja, Bethann, Liliya, and myself. Nataliya was our main contact. She is a Kazak woman who works with the orphanages in Uralsk. There are pictures of kids. Shine Camp was a one-day "camp" that we held for about a dozen children with disabilities who are not orphans. They are at the camp with their parents.

The other kids in the photos are orphans. The one shot of a building is Cushum -- the disability orphanage about an hour out of Uralsk.

Enjoy! I hope to have more photos posted in the future.

Vicki's Story, Part One

2005-10-10T16:45:00.000-05:00

I procrastinated long enough (roughly twenty years or so to be exact), but I think it’s finally time for me to write out my story. I’ve always laid that burden on my mom, thinking it was more her story than my own. Her blog story took you from the day I was born until I was in high school, but I guess the rest of the story is mine to tell. I will do this much the same way I did for my mom's installments -- a small segment for a series of weeks, posted some time on Monday of each week.

Part One

I was seven years old when we moved away from Philadelphia and back to Minnesota where I had been born. We relocated because both of my parents families lived in Minneapolis and dad was able to get his sales territory relocated to the Midwest. At that point, the surgeons at Children’s Hospital in Philadelphia informed my parents that there was nothing more that they could do for me.

About three months after moving back to Minnesota, I turned 8 years old. I would be entering Third Grade the following Spring. I was happy, well-adjusted, and making friends. I loved school – especially reading and spelling. I see now, looking back, that after seven years of rigorous surgeries and doctor’s appointments that the Lord was giving me a much-needed reprieve. I was more than thrilled with the diagnosis that there were to be no more surgeries. Granted, I didn’t understand at eight years old the extent of my deformities, or the extent of cruelty in the world.

For three glorious years, all was as it should be in my perfect little world. That was, all until an ordinary visit to the dentist. It intrigues me how life-changing events turn on the most ordinary of moments. Moses tended sheep for forty years in the wilderness and one day, not unlike any of the others, he spies the burning bush. And so here I was, minding my own business as it were, and a simple trip to get my teeth cleaned ushered in a whole new phase of life – the most difficult phase I would ever encounter.

Psalm 23 talks about “the valley of the shadow of death.” As my mom opened the heavy glass door going into the dentist’s office, how was I ever to know it would usher me onto the path that ran straight through that valley? And how was I to know I would walk on it for the next ten years of my life?

Tim Challies' Blog

2005-10-10T14:53:00.000-05:00

Tim Challies was at the Desiring God conference this weekend live blogging the sessions. Here is a link to his session on Joni's message.

Here is an excerpt:

It is little wonder that Joni has served to inspire so many. She is filled with joy despite, and perhaps even because of, her affliction. She sees her disability not as a hindrance but as an opportunity to minister and to bring glory to the one who ordained it from before time. And she looks forward, with great anticipation, to the day that suffering will be no more, and she will spring from that chair.

He also included his two favorite quotes from Joni's message:

I did not want to let go of the strange and sick comfort of my own misery.

Runner-up:
When we finally are able to stop laughing and crying, God will wipe away our tears. And it is ironic that when I finally will be able to use my hands to wipe my tears, I won't have to.

To read Tim's blogs pertaining to the other conference sessions, click here.

To read Doug McHone's live blog of the conference, click here.

Joni Eareckson Tada

2005-10-10T11:34:00.000-05:00

I had the overwhelming honor of meeting Joni Eareckson Tada this weekend at our Suffering and the Supremacy of Christ conference in Minneapolis, Minnesota. Joni was one of our speakers. Very special thanks to Scott for arranging it so that I could be Joni's host for the weekend.

I was able to get some photos at the JAF Luncheon held at the hotel on Saturday afternoon. If you would like to see them, you can view them here.

The highlight of the weekend, for me, was being invited up to Ken and Joni's hotel room on Saturday night to join them and a few of their assistants for nightly prayer and devotions. Ken led the devotions and we all prayed and sang hymns together. It was one of those surreal moments.

You know the Sesame Street jingle, "One of these things is not like the other? One of these things just doesn't belong?" That's kind of how I felt underneath all of the joy of the moment!

Joni gave a tremendous talk Saturday night. If you keep your eyes on the Desiring God website, her message will be available to order some time in the near future.

The thing she said that struck me the most was when she was talking about how hard it is to muster up the joy and energy each morning to get out of bed and face her rigerous routine. She talked about how she had to pray each morning and beg God for strength - that he would send her a "smile from heaven" to give her the energy to get up and face another day. What a posture of dependence and humility! And yet, right on the heels of that confession she said, "But do you know who the real disabled people are? They are the people that wake up every morning, throw back their covers, jump out of bed, throw down a bowl of cereal, and dash out the door. Do you know what God thinks of those people? Do you know what [the book of] James says of them? It says that God opposes them!"

James 4:6-7a
But he gives more grace. That is why Scripture says, "God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble." Submit yourselves, therefore, to God.

Joni is now on her way to England, and then on to Africa for a Wheels for the World mission. Please be in prayer for her strength and joy as well as protection and traveling mercies. May many see Christ in and through her life and ministry.

Desiring God Conference on Suffering

2005-10-06T16:54:00.000-05:00

I am swiping a large portion of this blog entry verbatim from JT's blog. Desiring God is hosting a conference this weekend at the Minneapolis Convention Center (Minnesota). The speakers will be: John Piper, Joni Eareckson Tada, Carl Ellis, David Powlison, Steve Saint, and Mark Talbot. You can view there bios here.

The Desiring God National Conference--Suffering and the Sovereignty of God--will begin tomorrow night. Tim Challies and Doug McHone will be live-blogging the conference. So check their sites this weekend if you're interested.

I know that everyone at DG and all of the speakers would deeply appreciate your prayers. Many of us have the sense that this will be a very significant conference. A number of the speakers not only have a profound theology of suffering, but are currently dealing with various kinds of pain and suffering in their own lives.

Keep your eyes on the Desiring God website as audio and conference CDs will be available sometime after the conference.

After Eve Women's Conference Info

2005-10-04T13:16:00.000-05:00

You can now see some information on the After Eve website on my workshop seminar that I will be presenting on Saturday, November 5,2005 at MacLean Bible Church in Vienna, Virginia (close to the Washington D.C. area). The title of my workshop is "Biblical Jewelry." If you click on that link, you will see a brief outline of my message, photo, and bio.

A study of 1 Peter 3 - Beauty from God's perspective. The book of 1 Peter is all about various kinds of trials, suffering, and persecution. So why then, in chapter three, does Peter address the topic of women and how they should dress? Come to Biblical Jewelry and discover why this passage is not as out-of-place as you might think! Taught from the perspective of a young woman born with a severe birth defect that disfigured her face, come and see what the Bible has to say about beauty and how all of us, no matter what our reflection tells us, can do all things for the glory of God – including shoe shopping and applying mascara!

Speaker - Vicki Anderson
Vicki was born in 1972 with Orbital Hypertelorism, a rare birth defect that deformed her face. Twenty-five reconstructive surgeries later, she now lives in Minneapolis, MN and works for Desiring God Ministries. Vicki has found true contentment and joy in Christ and would like to share the secrets of how to live with victory and hope in a culture obsessed with beauty and physical perfection.

Kyle Maynard

2005-10-04T10:30:00.000-05:00

Last night, Larry King Live featured a 20-year old congenital amputee named Kyle Maynard. I was really encouraged by his testimony, faith, and chutzpah, as they say. He just wrote a book entitled, No Excuses.

Here is a brief review:
Born a congenital amputee -- missing his limbs below the elbows and knees -- 19-year-old college student Kyle Maynard has excelled at nearly everything he has attempted in life: from playing middle school football, to becoming a high school wrestling champion, to breaking world records in weightlifting. Now, in No Excuses: The Inspiring True Story of a Congenital Amputee Who Became a Champion in Wrestling and in Life, he tells how a devoted family, a strong religious faith, and a "No Excuses" attitude toward his handicaps helped him accomplish so much so early in his young life.

It was amazing to see footage of Kyle driving his car, getting dressed, wrestling, playing football, and numerous other things that would be difficult even with all four of your limbs! I hate to use the cliché word "inspiring" but he truly is.

Clcik here to view Kyle's official website.

I am always drawn to people who beat impossible odds and after having done so, their demeanor is one of genuine joy and humility. Kyle is definitely one of those people. He seems to exude so much confidence and kindness. No hint of self-pity over what he has suffered, nor an ounce of pride over what he has since achieved.

I am intrigued that Larry King continues to have people like Kyle and Joni Eareckson Tada and Scott Burrows (Murderball) on his show (among others). It seems thatpeople in wheelchairs who are extremely high-achieving, happy people seems to stymie him. I am glad that they get the airtime though. These are the kinds of stories that need to be told.

Back in the U.S. of A

2005-10-03T15:36:00.000-05:00

I got back from Kazakhstan on Saturday night. What an exhausting trip - both emotionally, physically, and spiritually. But worth every second. After church yesterday, I got home, ate a bowl of cereal, laid down on my couch and didn't wake up until 6:00 AM this morning!

I am having a hard time wrapping my little, jet-lagged brain around everything that happened, but suffice it to say it was awesome. I went with three other women and we brought three wheelchairs, two walkers, a prosthetic leg, and nine suitcases full of supplies for the orphanages in Uralsk.

Uralsk has a high concentration of deformed and disabled children because it is the city where the former Soviet Union did their bomb testing. We went to three different orphanages, one of which housed disabled children exclusively. We also did a day camp for about a dozen disabled kids and their parents.

We had a very close call. In Amsterdam, they told us we didn't have reservations to get on the plane to Uralsk. For about an hour, two of the gals bantered with the ticket agents and made desperate phone calls to our travel agent in the U.S. while I guarded the luggage and took turns praying with the other gals. Not only were they not going to let us on the plane, but they told us the next flight to Uralsk was an entire week away! We prayed and at the eleventh hour, a flight attendant was sent running on board the plane to instruct the pilot to terminate take off. We made it.

We got to Uralsk at 2:00 AM and were there another two or three hours getting through customs and passport control. Two of the three wheelchairs we brought were completely mangled and destroyed by the time we got them. A couple of days later, the team was praying and reading Scripture together and Bethann and I went over to the wheelchairs and starting trying to bend them back into shape and somehow, miraculously, the two of us, with bare hands, somehow put these broken wheelchairs back together and in "good as new" shape. Praise the Lord. It blew us away.

I have so much more to say but I am going to have to blog in spurts as my head still cannot contain all that happened. Thanks to all of you who supported me financially and who prayed for me while I was gone. Your prayers were answered beyond what any of us could have imagined.

On a Mission

2005-09-19T15:37:00.000-05:00

I leave first thing tomorrow moring for Detroit. I will hook up with three dear women there and the four of us are off to Central Asia. We will be gone for ten days, working among an orphanage there that is made up, primarily, of disabled children.

Please be in prayer for our safety and travel, but most of all, pray that Christ's name would be glorified in our work there and that the spotlight would be turned off of us and onto the Lord. May they not think it is our citeznship in the United States or our funds that make us happy and willing to serve - but the One who sends us. Let it not be our names, but His Name that is praised.

Please pray for these children and pray for wisdom and discernment as we love and serve them. Help us to rely not on our own strength, but only in the strength that God supplies. His grace is sufficient for us!

I hope to blog more about the trip once we return.

After Eve Women's Conference

2005-09-06T17:00:00.000-05:00

Well, I've managed to blog for just over eight months without any shameless plugs, so I figured it was high time that I dropped one.

I will, Lord willing, be one of the workshop speakers at a women's conference in November. I will be teaching on "Biblical Jewelry: A Study of 1 Peter 3 -- Beauty From God's Perspective." The workshop is 75 minutes long and is during the Saturday afternoon breakout sessions.

The conference is sponsored by the After Eve organization and is being held at McLean Bible Church in Vienna, Virginia on Friday and Saturday, November 4-5, 2005.

The conference is by young women, for young women and hopes to draw a crowd of women between the ages of 18-30, give or take -- which in my case, is some take.

Information about the keynote speakers, available workshop sessions, cost, location, room and board, as well as the mission statment and purpose of the conference can be found on their website.

I am looking forward to being there. Please keep me in your prayers as you think of it. I have been told that my session is being recorded, so after the conference, I will post information on how to obtain copies of the audio, should anyone be interested.

Julianna Whetmore

2005-09-05T19:08:00.000-05:00

Many months ago, I linked to a newspaper story about a young girl named Julianna Whetmore. My mom happened to be watching the TLC channel the other night and a one-hour program entitled, "Borm Without a Face" came on. She taped it for me and I watched it this afternoon. It turns out that the program is about Julianna. Check the TLC listings. If it is re-aired at any point, it is well worth seeing.

Julianna's parents are courageous and loving people. It was interesting for me to see Julianna's story told through their perspective - it gave me a unique angle to my own situation and all that my own parents probably went through in the early days when no one knew what was wrong with me or if I had any future at all. It also reminded me, once again, that there is never room for self pity, because even those of us who have suffered much -- there is always someone who has suffered more.

Please be praying for Julianna. She is only two or three now and will need a lot more surgery. I have included some links that tell her story, show some pictures, as well as a mailing address should you want to write the Whetmore's a letter of encouragement.

Here is a link to a local newspaper story about Julianna

Here are some photos of Julianna taken at birth

If you would like to send Julianna a letter:

JULIANA WETMORE
c/o THOM AND TAMI WETMORE
P.O. BOX 65852
ORANGE PARK, FLORIDA 32065

Book Recommendation

2005-08-22T14:55:00.000-05:00

I am about halfway through a book that my mom just ordered for me called, "Conversations With the Voiceless: Finding God's Love in Life's Hardest Questions," by John Wessells.

The book is available through Amazon for just over ten dollars.

The author and his wife, Gail, have a ministry where they travel to various brain trauma hospitals around the country and they sing, pray, read Scripture, and preach the gospel to patients with severe head injuries, brain damage, and in comas.

The stories are inspiring, but even for those without the fairy-tale endings, the book hits home the hopeful truth that everyone has a purpose, that God loves even those who are helpless, and that non-verbal does not mean non-existent.

My favorite story comes early on where patients who were in comas, later revive, only to tell John that they received Christ as their Lord and Savior while they were in their comas - hearing every word he spoke to them!

Here is a review from Publisher's Weekly:

Starred Review. Wessells spends his days praying and singing worship songs for head trauma patients in comas, something he admits may seem frivolous. He makes the case that these people and their families are among "the least of these" for whom Jesus cares deeply. And his stories are powerful. He talks about a young man who made a decision to follow Christ while in a comatose state. He tells of sharing his faith with Christine Busalacchi before her father got permission to remove her feeding tube and she starved to death—how the girl neurologists described as being "in a persistent vegetative state" had waved to him, smiled and responded to praise music. But more importantly, Wessells discusses the difficult questions that a ministry like his uncovers. Why are some lives cut short? Why do some patients recover, while others' bodies shrivel as their minds slowly lose control? Wessells reassures readers that it's okay to ask questions and not have answers—and that, no matter what, God's love abounds. These are lessons he learned not only through his ministry but also through the loss of his young son to cancer. This is a rare book that offers hope and comfort without ignoring or sugarcoating the painful realities that families of head trauma patients face.

Donna Yeatman Brown

2005-08-22T14:45:00.000-05:00

I was at a Sister Kenny clinic this morning getting some physical therapy done on a minor neck injury (compliments of the gym...proof I never should have attempted rigerous exercise!) On the wall in the waiting room was a beautiful oil painting of a frozen-over river in the wintertime. Next to the paining was a small bio of the artist. Here is what it said:

Donna Yeatman Brown
Council Bluffs, IA

Disabled since birth, Donna grasps paintbrushes between her elbows where her arms stop. Her disability affected both legs, also requiring her to use an artificial limb. She is married, has three daughters and does all her own cooking, cleaming, and shopping, drives a car, and does volunteer work for schools and Girl Scouts.

I was amazed. I presume Donna's painting was on the wall because she must have been enrolled in the Sister Kenny rehabilitation treatment program. Here is some history behind the program:

Did you know that Sister Kenny was not a nun? Elizabeth Kenny was born in Australia in 1880. She was trained as an army nurse and treated the sick for 31 years in the bushlands of Australia. She acquired the title "Sister" -- used in British countries for "nurse."

In 1911, when she encountered her first case of polio, Sister Kenny was unaware of conventional polio treatment -- immobilizing the affected muscles with splints. Instead, she used common sense and her understanding of anatomy to treat the symptoms of the disease. Sister Kenny applied moist hotpacks to help loosen muscles, relieve pain, and enable limbs to be moved, stretched, and strengthened. The theory of her treatment was muscle "re-education" -- the retraining of muscles so that they could function again.

In 1940, Sister Kenny traveled to the United States and eventually to Minneapolis, Minnesota, where, in 1942, the Sister Kenny Institute was established. Sister Kenny's pioneering principles of muscle rehabilitation became the foundation of physical therapy. Today, Sister Kenny Rehabilitation Services is one of the premier rehabilitation centers in the country, known for its progressive and innovative vision.

For the Least of These

2005-08-08T21:15:00.000-05:00

Several months ago, the Disability Ministry at my church held a luncheon for all of the families involved. One of the fathers led us in a devotional and I was very intrigued with his message. This blog is a summation of his thoughts along with some extended thoughts of my own.

His observation was simply that one of the passages where Jesus heals a man who cannot walk, after the people go to Jesus and ask him to heal the man, Jesus, interestingly, does not say, “Take me to him.” But instead, Jesus says to the people, “Bring him to me.” You see the point – Jesus required faith, not just from the one who was sick, but from those asking for the healing on his behalf. Jesus made them do some of the work. Jesus didn’t expect crippled men to hobble over to him – he expected others to take notice and bring these people to Him.

After mulling this over for a few weeks, I decided to take an even closer look. I perused all four Gospels and read every passage that mentions Jesus healing the sick. (Ironically, Luke, the physician, had the least to say about this topic than all four of them).

The results were somewhat stunning. In nearly every case that dealt with a person who was unable to walk or speak – healthy people were a key component to the story. Look at the language of some of these verses in particular.

Matthew 9:2: Some men brought to him a paralytic, lying on a mat. When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic, "Take heart, son; your sins are forgiven.

Note that it was “their” faith that touched Jesus – not the faith of the paralytic himself!

Matthew 15:30 says: Great crowds came to him, bringing the lame, the blind, the crippled, the mute and many others, and laid them at his feet; and he healed them.

Mark 2:3-5 is probably the most radical example: Some men came, bringing to him a paralytic, carried by four of them. Since they could not get him to Jesus because of the crowd, they made an opening in the roof above Jesus and, after digging through it, lowered the mat the paralyzed man was lying on. When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic, "Son, your sins are forgiven."

Look at the joy and importunacy involved in this descriptions: Mark 6:55: They ran throughout that whole region and carried the sick on mats to wherever they heard he was. And Mark 7:32: There some people brought to him a man who was deaf and could hardly talk, and they begged him to place his hand on the man. Mark 8:22 echoes the same sentiment: They came to Bethsaida, and some people brought a blind man and begged Jesus to touch him.

There are many other examples: Matthew 8:5; Matthew 9:1; Matthew 9:32; Matthew 17:16-17; Mark 9:17,20, Mark 10:46-52; Luke 4:40; Luke 5:17.

John 5:2-7 is a unique situation and yet stresses the same point.

Now there is in Jerusalem near the Sheep Gate a pool, which in Aramaic is called Bethesda and which is surrounded by five covered colonnades. Here a great number of disabled people used to lie - the blind, the lame, the paralyzed. One who was there had been an invalid for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there and learned that he had been in this condition for a long time, he asked him, "Do you want to get well?" "Sir," the invalid replied, "I have no one to help me into the pool when the water is stirred. While I am trying to get in, someone else goes down ahead of me."

This is amazing to me. You would think one person in thirty-eight years would lend the poor guy a hand. It makes me wonder what would have been his fate should he never have run into Christ.

This brings us, of course, to application. How does the church today fit into this context? What is the Church doing for its sick and needy today? Are we, like the New Testament believers, running to find the sick and begging Christ to heal them?

Murderball

2005-08-03T21:12:00.000-05:00

I have seen a couple online news headlines about the new flick "Murderball" and haven't paid any attention to it, figuring it was just another silly horror movie remake. Turns out, the film is a documentary about a quadriplegic rugby team that competes in the Para-Olympics. Several of the stars of the film were being interviewed on Larry King Live this evening and it was very inspiring. I was especially encouraged when King questioned them all about Stem Cell Research. None of them seemed too interested, and in fact, several of them said they wouldn't even be in line should a cure even be discovered. King seemed incredulous, but they insisted they were sincere, saying that there lives have been more accomplished and fulfilling since being in a wheel chair than they were when able bodied. Here are a few links of interest:

Movie Reviews

View the Trailer

Rolling Stone Magazine Movie Review

To Request the Film in a Theatre Near You

Larry King Live Appearance

Senate Bill Euthenized

2005-07-25T21:35:00.000-05:00

The Joni and Friends website is reporting the termination of Senate Bill AB 654 and AB 651 - two attempts to help legalize Physician Assisted Suicide.

Sacramento - Physician assisted suicide bill AB 651 has died in the state Senate and will not be further pursued this year by its authors, Assembly Members Patty Berg and Lloyd Levine.

An article appearing in the Los Angeles Times today (7/12/05) stated that bill proponents were "still struggling against steady religious and cultural currents." This refers to those of you who responded to action alerts, got petitions signed, met with legislators and staffers in district offices, wrote letters to the news media, picketed, made calls, and in many other ways made it clear that most Californians do not want physician assisted suicide.

In the LA Times article, Berg and Levine state they will revive the issue in January. Ms. Berg continues to rely on a Field poll which earlier this year showed 70% support for physician assisted suicide.

Mom's Story - Final Chapter

2005-07-12T11:25:00.000-05:00

A special word of thanks to my mom for laboring over the writing of this story for many weeks. I pray that her work will not be in vain but that people who read her story will be encouraged to put their hope in a faithful, loving, soveriegn Great Physician. To God be the glory!

Final Installment:

As the years have passed, new questions have filled my mind. When Vicki was first born, my questions had been: “Why is this happening to my family?” “Is this a punishment for bad things my husband or I have done?” “Or is this simply an unfortunate accident of nature?” As I searched the Bible, I found answers [see Part 4 of this blog story]. I became convinced that God is sovereign; He is in control of all things.

The belief that God is sovereign is more than understanding that God is in control of all things. It is an understanding that God does more than react to bad situations, turning what was meant for evil into what is good. God does not react; He acts.

It goes against our grain to equate anything bad with God. We feel the need to protect His image and make Him look good. But God doesn’t need us to guard His reputation. What He desires is that we trust Him, even when it looks as though His reputation will suffer. God is God. He doesn’t need our help. He wants our trust.

God knits each one of us in our mother’s womb. When a baby is born with disabilities, do we conclude that God made a mistake? If He does indeed knit us together in our mother’s womb, then we must conclude that He knits us in exactly the way He desires. He makes no mistakes.

But this is not bad news! In fact, it is very good news. God is sovereign. He is in charge of all things. He makes no mistakes. When a baby is born with a disability, it is God’s perfect plan!

This understanding led me to ask more questions. “If this is God’s plan for our family, how does He want us to respond?” I found my answer in James 1:2-4, “Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.”

My next question was, “Could I find peace and contentment in this situation?” The Bible told me, in Philippians 4:11-13, “I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do everything through Him who gives me strength.”

I embraced these verses and found comfort and strength in them. But after awhile, new questions begged to be answered. “Was it possible to go beyond peace and contentment and actually feel joy in our situation?” Life with disabilities is a journey. The difficulties often cannot be remedied, and we must learn to live with them. Can we learn to live with them and actually be joyful in them? 1 Peter 4:12-13 says, “Do not be surprised at the painful trial you are suffering, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice that you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when His glory is revealed.”

This led me to ask, “Is there joy beyond the pain, or is there actually joy in the pain?” Romans 5:3-5, “We rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out His love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom He has given us.”

I believe that God chose this sorrow for our family. And surprisingly, what I at first felt was a sorrow, I see now as a joy. In all sincerity, if given such a chance, I would not change the journey our family has traveled. We have all learned, we have all grown, and we love the Lord and His sovereign direction in our lives.

When our daughter was born, we gave her the name Vicki Joy. The name was a deliberate choice. We wanted her to one day live out the attributes that her name implies. We wanted her to be “victorious,” and we wanted her to be “joyful.” In every way Vicki Joy lives up to her name.

I will praise the Lord who continually showers us with good things, with blessings everlasting. “The Lord is good to those whose hope is in Him, to the one who seeks Him; His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness” (Lamentations 3:25, 22-23).

Who Should We Take Pity Upon?

2005-07-11T22:41:00.000-05:00

I had a very cool “moment” at Joni Camp. I was being interviewed and the question posed before me was one I have answered many times, “What do you tell people who say that they pity you?” (This is in specific reference to my having a deformed face). I had the pat answer all set up in the chute – “Why feel sorry for me? I have a great life…God has blessed me…I have so many things to be thankful for…I have a better life than a lot of pretty people do….yadda, yadda, yadda…”

And as I opened my mouth to speak, a train whistled and the cameras stopped rolling and the camera man told me to hold off my answer until the train went by. By the time they said, “Roll camera” I had one of those anesthesia moments – you know, you hear yourself talking from inside your head and you’re thinking, “Who is that talking?”

I found myself answering the question in a way I never have before and having now mulled my answer over for a couple of weeks, I am rather alarmed by what I said.

In short, I said something like, “No, I should not be pitied. The apostle Paul said that if we put our hope in Christ and in the end Christ is not the Son of God then our hope was for this life only and, therefore, we hoped in vain. Paul says of these people that they are ‘to be pitied more than all men.’ I have put my hope in Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior and Jesus Christ is the Son of God. My hope is not in vain. Therefore, I am not to be pitied, regardless of what my face might look like.”

The verse I quoted was from the passage of 1 Corinthians 15:19:

But if it is preached that Christ has been raised from the dead, how can some of you say that there is no resurrection of the dead? If there is no resurrection of the dead, then not even Christ has been raised. And if Christ has not been raised, our preaching is useless and so is your faith. More than that, we are then found to be false witnesses about God, for we have testified about God that he raised Christ from the dead. But he did not raise him if in fact the dead are not raised. For if the dead are not raised, then Christ has not been raised either. And if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile; you are still in your sins. Then those also who have fallen asleep in Christ are lost. If only for this life we have hope in Christ, we are to be pitied more than all men.

I am still a little taken aback by that answer because it sobered me. I realized that I have participated in more than my fair share of self-pity in my lifetime – and pitied a lot of other people who I felt deserved it. And yet none of those feelings I had were based on Scriptural standards, but on earthly standards. The world says physical beauty is of utmost importance, so logic dictates that we empathize with those who have been robbed of it.

I want to be more biblically focused. I want to see people through biblical lenses. I don’t want to see as the world sees. Christ reserved his tears for eternal losses – unrepentant Israel (Luke 19:41), the death of loved ones.(John 11:35), and separation from God’s favor (Luke 22:44). In the interest of being Christ-like, I want to weep for the right things.

Deliver Us From Evil?

2005-07-11T22:37:00.000-05:00

I started reading a book last week entitled, How Can I Ask God for Physical Healing, by David J. Smith. I have only read two chapters so far, and while I do agree wholeheartedly with some of his sentiments, there are others that I am frustrated with.

On page 20 he writes, “A sick body is, therefore, not normal. A sick body is not the perfect expression of God’s presence in your life.”

Yet, John 9:1-3 says, “As he went along, he saw a man blind from birth. His disciples asked him, "Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?" "Neither this man nor his parents sinned," said Jesus, "but this happened so that the work of God might be displayed in his life.”

The author says that sickness is not the perfect expression of God’s presence, but Scripture says, in the case of the man blind from birth, that his blindness was, “the work of God being displayed.” My opinion is that if God’s handiwork is being seen in my illness, then certainly this equates with God’s presence in my life.

The writer goes on (page 21), “The Lord Jesus taught us to pray, ‘Deliver us from evil.’ My point is this, if you deny that you have a physical need, then you will not engage in a quest for a cure.”

But is the “evil” mentioned in the Lord’s Prayer meant to infer all suffering and tragedy, including physical sickness?

Dan Wallace writes, “Take the adjective ponhrouæ (“evil”) in Matthew 6:13, for example. The King James Version (as well as more than one modern translation) translates this as 'but deliver us from evil.' But the adjective has an article modifying it (tou), indicating that it is to be taken substantivally: “the evil one.”

And there is no little theological difference between the two. The Father does not always keep his children out of danger, disasters, or the ugliness of the world. In short, he does not always deliver us from evil. But he does deliver us from the evil one. The text is not teaching that God will make our life a rose garden, but that he will protect us from the evil one, the devil himself (cf. John 10:28-30; 17:15)."

This concept is backed up elsewhere in Scripture. For example:

Psalm 23:4, “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me.”

Peter 1:6, “...though now, for a little while, as is necessary, you have been grieved by various trials…”

1 Peter 2:20-21, “For what credit is it if you when you sin and are beaten for it, you endure? But if you do good and suffer for it, you endure, this is a gracious thing in the sight of God. For to this you have been called because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example that you might follow in his steps.”

1 Peter 3:14, “But even if you should suffer for righteousness sake, you will be blessed.”

1 Peter 3:17, “For it is better to suffer for doing good, if that should be God’s will, than for doing evil.”

1 Peter 4:12-13: “Do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice insofar as you share Christ’s sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed.”

1 Peter 4:16, “ Yet if anyone suffers as a Christian, let him not be ashamed, but let him glorify God in that name.”

1 Peter 5:10. “And after you have suffered for a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you.”

James 1:2, 3, 12, “Count it all joy my brothers when you meet trials of various kinds. For you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial.”

Matthew 5:45, “…He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.”

2 Timothy 3:12, “ In fact, everyone who wants to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted.”

I am not making a case here that God doesn’t still heal people today.

He does!

Nor am I saying you shouldn’t pray to be delivered from your sicknesses.

You should!

In fact, the book of James exhorts the Church to do so. James 5:14 says, “Is anyone among you sick? Let him call for the elders of the church, and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord.” Verse 16 continues, "Therefore, confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, that you may be healed."

I myself have experienced miraculous healing from the Lord (many times). I have seen so much mercy and kindness from the Lord in my own life that I will be the first one to encourage someone to pray importunately to be healed. And I will be the first one to tell you that God can do it.

But I have also suffered enough to know that sickness should not be credited solely to Satan or God’s punishment for sin. When longsuffering (a Biblical concept) is thrust upon you and in the end it sanctifies you, purifies you, increases your faith, draws you deeper in love with Christ, gives you a humble dependence upon God, deepens your prayer life, allows you to turn your back on the promises of the world, gives you a genuine longing for heaven, and leads others to know Christ as their Savior – then we have no choice but to give God the glory for that work in our lives. Those are things that can only be accomplished by the grace of God and we do the Lord a grave disservice when we credit all of his sanctifying work of grace in our lives to his Archenemy. Give God glory where glory is due. Satan knows more than we do of the gold that comes out of the furnace of suffering.

Joni Camp

2005-06-28T20:27:00.000-05:00

I have been home from Joni Camp for four days now and am still struggling to find a way to put the experience into words. It is an experience I would definitely recommend and strongly urge you to check out the Joni and Friends website and start thinking and praying towards volunteering at a camp near you.

It was wonderful, but also a lot of hard work. The days were jam-packed with activity. We were up early and in bed late, and yet, the energy seemed to always be there when I needed it, which I presume to be nothing but the grace of God and the answer to the many prayers people were praying on my behalf.

I spent the week with an adorable six year old girl with OHDO Blepharophimosis Syndrome. I instantly fell in love with this little girl - as well as her mom, dad, grandmother, and brother (who were all at the camp also).

Being put with a six year old carried with it many benefits. First being, that I got to spend time with a wonderful little girl! Secondly, the six year old team had all sorts of fun stuff planned for them. I think I had just as much fun as the kids did. We had puppet shows, games, a moon walk, a carnival, cartoons, train rides, swimming, boat rides, tubing, treats, singing, crafts - you name it. It was a blast! Another blessing to being put with the six year olds is that I had a wonderful team leader who is going to be a life-long friend.

I met many wonderful people there -- fellow volunteers, families of disabled kids, not to mention the kids themselves. It was great being in an atmosphere where everyone was friendly and kind and the rude staring and probing questions were nowhere to be found.

I am only touching on my week. Like I said before, I am still struggling for words to put this whole experience down. I am sure I will blog more as things get processed.

Thank you to everyone who prayed for me while I was gone. God went exceedingly beyond my wildest expectations and I had a wonderful time.

A Perfect World?

2005-06-28T20:11:00.000-05:00

Hat tip to JT for sending me a link to this article in Christianity Today.

The article was written by the mother of a special needs child who is living with her family in France. Down's Syndrome is becoming virtually extinct in France due to advances in ultrasound technology and legalized abortion. In the article, the mother considers a world completely void of disability.

Here are some excerpts:

I tried to imagine a society devoid of people with disabilities. What if any and all babies with special needs were to be eliminated? What would a society look like if everyone were "normal," if we never had to make provisions and exceptions for people who are deaf, blind, mute, or lame?

Could it be that the special-needs, "imperfect" people have that balancing effect on society as a whole? How would love and compassion develop among people who were only surrounded by the lovely and intelligent? My children treasure nothing more than a smile or kiss, sometimes just eye contact, from their little brother. My nephew, who is a year younger than Michael, loves to help at his school with the class of students with special needs—or as he puts it, "the class like Michael." I see my husband kiss our son's often expressionless, crooked little face, and my heart nearly bursts with a love and joy that I can hardly contain.

As I pondered this potential "perfect" society, one verse from the Bible kept coming to my mind: "Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit" (Phil. 2:3). Parenting a child with special needs makes living out this verse a little easier.

Til We Have Faces

2005-06-17T16:12:00.000-05:00

Looking for something to do between now and December when C. S. Lewis' classic, The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe hits the theatres? How about reading what, in my opinion, is the best C. S. Lewis novel there is, Til We Have Faces.

A friend recently lent me the book and I devoured it in about three sittings. In short, it is the retelling of the myth of Cupid and Psyche. It is a great read for anybody, but in particular, if you have suffered with facial deformities, the book will take on a deeper level.

I was alarmed how Lewis, untouched by facial deformities as far as I know, could so accurately have his finger on the pulse of the heart, mind, and analytical thought of a woman with an ugly face.

The book was suspensful and mysterious and intriguing and masterfully written. It was also terribly convicting. It is not only those of us with deformed faces that will feel the slap of this story's morale, but any of us with perceived imperfections who allow those thoughts to guide their decisions and shape their realities. A thoroughly wonderful read!

Here is a literary review of the book (minor spoilers -- may want to read the book first). The book can be ordered through Amazon and is also available in hard cover and in audio format.

Jeb Bush Probes Schiavo Collapse

2005-06-17T11:31:00.000-05:00

CNN is reporting this story.

Tallahassee, Florida (AP) -- Gov. Jeb Bush asked a prosecutor Friday to investigate why Terri Schiavo collapsed 15 years ago, calling into question how long it took her husband to call 911 after he found her.

In a letter faxed to Pinellas-Pasco County State Attorney Bernie McCabe, Bush said Michael Schiavo testified in a 1992 medical malpractice trial that he found his wife collapsed at 5 a.m., and he said in a 2003 television interview that he found her about 4:30 a.m. He called 911 at 5:40 a.m.

"Between 40 and 70 minutes elapsed before the call was made, and I am aware of no explanation for the delay," Bush wrote. "In light of this new information, I urge you to take a fresh look at this case without any preconceptions as to the outcome."

Joni and Friends Family Camp

2005-06-17T10:30:00.000-05:00

Tomorrow is the big day. I leave bright and early in the morning for Joni camp. Seven of us are driving there, it will be a ten-hour drive. Lord willing, we will arrive at the camp safe and sound sometime Saturday night. Sunday will involve a church service and an intense day of training for the volunteers (which is what I will be doing at the camp). We also find out on Sunday what family we have been assigned to. The remainder of the week consists of spending time with your family and attending and participating in various activities.

I am eagerly anticipating the trip and am looking forward to meeting the family that I have been paired with. I pray that I can be a blessing to them in some small way and that they in turn will also bless me, as I am sure they will!

Please be in prayer for me as I am away - safe travels, health, freedom from stress (worrying about the work I've left behind!), and that the families that are attending this camp will go home feeling refreshed and renewed.

Pray that the volunteers are given grace and compassion and kindness and eyes to see all the glories of Christ that God specifically designed to only be seen through the lives of those who live with disabilities.

Schiavo Autopsy Results

2005-06-15T15:35:00.000-05:00

Fox News has reported:

Terri Schiavo died from dehydration and was not abused before her 1990 collapse, an autopsy report revealed Wednesday.

The autopsy report also showed there was no evidence Schiavo was given harmful drugs or other substances before her death. The severely brain-damaged woman, who was at the heart of a right-to-die battle, died March 31, 13 days after being disconnected from her feeding tube.

Jon Thogmartin, the Pinellas-Pasco medical examiner, told reporters that the 41-year-old Schiavo would not have lived after her feeding tube was removed even if she had been fed or given liquids by mouth.

"Removal of her feeding tube would have resulted in her death whether she was fed or hydrated by mouth or not," Thogmartin told reporters.

The autopsy also confirmed that Schiavo's mind was compromised at the time of death. "There's nothing in her autopsy report that is inconsistent with a persistent vegetative state," said Dr. Stephen J. Nelson, a medical examiner who assisted in the autopsy.

Thogmartin also said Schiavo was blind, her brain was half its normal size and she was suffering from severe osteoporosis at the time of death. Her "bones were pulpally soft from severe osteoporosis," Thogmartin said.

"The brain weighed 615 grams, roughly half of the expected weight of a human brain. ... This damage was irreversible, and no amount of therapy or treatment would have regenerated the massive loss of neurons."

Her parents, Bob and Mary Schindler, had fought their son-in-law, Michael Schiavo, in court for seven years over her fate.

The Schindler family's attorney, John Gibbs III, said the report still leaves many questions unanswered.

Gibbs questioned the finding that there was no abuse, and said the window of time where Schiavo was unconscious after her Feb. 25, 1990, collapse is troubling. Gibbs said Schiavo collapsed at 4:30 a.m. but her husband did not call for help until 5:40 a.m. and she did not receive medical attention until 5:52 a.m.

"Those 70 minutes are very, very troubling," Gibbs told reporters Wednesday. "Clearly, when you have a brain that is not getting blood, these are emergency moments and every second is precious. 4:30 to 5:40 is a significant time period."

He said the family plans to discuss the autopsy with other medical experts and may take some unspecified legal action.

"We are, at this point, examining every option and no decisions have been made," Gibbs said.

Michael Schiavo's attorney, George Felos, said his client "was pleased to hear the hard science and evidence of those findings."

"It's a hard fact, it's a scientific fact that Terri Schiavo was blind," Felos said. He said Michael Schiavo plans to release autopsy photographs of her shrunken brain in the near future.

In Washington, White House press secretary Scott McClellan said that the autopsy results did not change the president's position on her case.

"Our thoughts and prayers remain with her family and friends," McClellan said. "The president was deeply saddened by this case."

Thogmartin said doctors treating her in the hours after her collapse tested her thoroughly for signs of abuse and trauma and did not find anything.

Thogmartin said the investigation was unable to determine what caused Schiavo's collapse.

The autopsy revealed there was no conclusive evidence that Schiavo had an eating disorder. Thogmartin said Schiavo reportedly drank a lot of tea and caffeine could have led to her collapse in 1990, but is unlikely.

"No one observed Mrs. Schiavo taking diet pills, binging or purging, or consuming laxatives," Thogmartin told reporters.

Thogmartin said a review of hospital records of her collapse showed she had a diminished potassium level in her blood. But he said that did not prove she had an eating disorder, because the emergency treatment she received at the time could have affected the potassium level.

The cause of her collapse has never been definitely proven, but testimony in a 1992 civil trial indicated that she probably was suffering from an eating disorder that led to a severe chemical imbalance.

The Schindlers, though, don't believe she had an eating disorder and have accused Michael Schiavo of abusing his wife, a charge he vehemently denied.

Speaking before the report was issued, Michael Schiavo's attorney, George Felos, said the Schindlers continue to engage in a "smear campaign against Michael to deflect the real issues in the case, which were Terri's wishes and her medical condition."

Bill Pellan, chief investigator for the medical examiner's office, said Tuesday that Thogmartin reviewed police reports, medical records and other documents in trying to determine the cause of her brain damage.

During the long legal battle, numerous abuse complaints made to state social workers were ruled unfounded.

Michael Schiavo convinced the courts his wife would not want to be kept alive artificially with no hope of recovery, contending that she made statements to that effect before her collapse.

Her parents doubt she had any such end-of-life wishes and also disputed that she was in a persistent vegetative state. They believed she could get better with therapy.

Over the years, the Schindlers had sought independent investigation of their daughter's condition and what caused it. Abuse complaints to state social workers were ruled unfounded and the Pinellas state attorney's office did not turn up evidence of abuse.

During the seven-year legal battle, federal and state courts repeatedly rejected extraordinary attempts at intervention by Florida lawmakers, Gov. Jeb Bush, Congress and President Bush on behalf of her parents.

Supporters of the Schindlers harshly criticized the courts. Many religious groups, including the Roman Catholic Church, said the removal of sustenance violated fundamental religious tenets.

About 40 judges in six courts were involved in the case at one point or another. Six times, the U.S. Supreme Court refused to intervene. As Schiavo's life ebbed away following the final removal of her feeding tube, Congress rushed through a bill to allow the federal courts to take up the case, and President Bush signed it March 21, but federal courts refused to step in.

The autopsy report was based on 274 external and internal body images, and an exhaustive review of Terri Schiavo's medical records, police reports and social services agency records.

Schiavo Autopsy

2005-06-15T10:34:00.000-05:00

The results of Terri Schaivo's autopsy will reportedly be released some time today. There are many motivating factors revolving around the results. Terri's husband hopes that the autopsy will prove that Terri was indeed in a Persistent Vegetative State and that she suffered her stroke as the result of an eating disorder. Her parents and siblings hope the findings will prove that Terri was abused by her husband and was not brain dead. With Terri's life taken, this last remaining battle seems a bit superfluous.

Fox News has a story posted regarding the autopsy and will no doubt keep us posted once the official results have been made public. CNN also has a story posted as well as a live feed of the autopsy report being read (however, you must have a subscription to CNN's audio feature in order to listen).

Mom's Story - Part Eight

2005-06-07T14:42:00.000-05:00

Part Eight:

The years passed, with Vicki undergoing reconstructive surgery nearly every year. With my husband’s new job, along with its astounding medical benefits, we were able to get back on our feet financially. It took many years and a stringent budget, but the day finally came when every single outstanding debt had been paid in full. Again, we remembered the vision I had seen years before, in the basement of our church that dark night, when we knew the Lord would lead us into the future. All we had to do was follow Him, and that is what we had tried to do. Now, years later, our bills were paid, Vicki had successfully undergone many surgeries, and our family was happy.

The first fifteen years of Vicki’s life were peppered with doctors’ appointments, surgeries, recoveries, adjustments, disappointments, and fears. As the years passed, she and I grew closer and closer. As I look back, I see how those countless hours spent together in waiting areas and hospital rooms provided precious times of bonding, understanding, and love. I wouldn’t trade those times. Amazingly, she has said that she wouldn’t trade them either.

One day, when she was about 16 years old, Vicki announced that she had had enough surgery. “If people can’t accept me, that’s their problem,” she stated. “I’m happy with the way I am, and I don’t want any more surgeries.” My husband and I decided to respect her wishes. As all of the critical life-sustaining issues had been addressed, we agreed that she now deserved a life free from the constant threat of surgery, along with its pain, fear, and difficult periods of recovery. I marveled at her resolve and her inner strength.

One day particularly stands out in my memory. Vicki had just been released from the hospital following another complex surgery. A new nose had been fashioned for her, using bone taken from her own hip. Surgical “buttons” had been temporarily sewn onto each side of the bridge of her new nose, to keep the structure from collapsing as it healed. It was not a pretty sight, especially accompanied by heavy black stitches and areas of dried blood. Added to this was the fact that her hip was in pain, resulting in the need to laboriously limp whenever she tried to walk.

We were on our way home from the hospital that day, and I needed to stop at a drugstore to have her prescriptions filled. As I pulled into a parking space at the mall, I was shocked to see Vicki open her car door and begin to painfully push herself out. I stopped her with a firm, “You wait here in the car; I’ll only be a minute.” Her reply amazed me.

“I’ve been cooped up in the hospital for days,” she said. “I want to go in the store and see people and feel normal again.”

It was difficult to hold back my tears as I helped her out of the car and assisted her to slowly walk through the parking lot and into the store. People stared at her, as I knew they would, but Vicki decided to ignore the stares and focus instead on the joy of being out of the hospital. I thought my intention for leaving her in the car had been to spare her embarrassment, but now I wondered if it hadn’t been more to spare myself the embarrassment. As I watched her painfully limp down the aisles, I felt a rush of pride as I realized what she was overcoming just by walking through that drugstore. I saw, as never before, what an amazing child she was, how filled with inner strength and courage, courage which I myself lacked. I don’t know when I’ve ever felt more pride, nor been more filled with humility to realize that God had chosen me for the honor of birthing and raising this amazing little girl.

Portrait of a Daughter

2005-06-02T15:52:00.000-05:00

Pretty soon, this blog is going to belong to my mom, as I've been posting more of her creative work here than my own lately! Here is another poem that she wrote.

Portrait of a Daughter

I held the fresh clean canvas,
Unblemished, incomplete,
Miraculous potential,
Untouched as yet and sweet.

My mind caressed a vision,
My heart joined in the game,
I saw a flawless portrait
Within a perfect frame.

But time revealed some brush strokes
I felt were out of place,
And lines I did not want there
My pride tried to erase.

But then I met the Artist,
His skillful plan unfolds-
The portrait of a daughter
On canvas He now holds.

Mom's Story, Part Seven

2005-06-01T15:29:00.000-05:00

Click here to read Part One
Click here to read Part Two
Click here to read Part Three
Click here to read Part Four
Click here to read Part Five
Click here to read Part Six

Part Seven:

Alone now in the waiting room, my husband and I were emotionally nearing the end of our strength. As the hours passed, we prayed together, then sat silently, waiting.

At last Vicki’s doctor appeared, looking tired, but triumphant. “We’ve done all we can,” he smiled. “Everything looks good.”

It seemed no human response to such news was adequate. My heart wanted to burst with joy and thanksgiving, yet all I could do was cry. “Thank You, Lord,” I whispered, but I knew so much more was needed. I would be thanking Him for a lifetime.

That night, as my husband and I drove the long road back to our home, I remembered my fear of that morning, when I had wondered if Vicki would be alive as we drove back home. The faces of the parents we met at the hospital, whose daughter died that day, rose as specters in my mind. They were instead feeling the agony I had dreaded, as they made their way home, without their little girl.

I spent every day after that at the hospital with Vicki. She recovered amazingly fast, and her spirits were high. She looked forward to going home, but being in the hospital didn’t upset her. The nurses were kind, and she looked forward to my arrival each morning, when I’d have a little present for her.

Her head and face were nearly covered by bandages, yet she smiled and laughed. During the extensive surgery, her scalp had been cut from ear to ear, allowing the surgeons access to the interior of her face. Her eye sockets had been moved closer together, false eyelashes had been sewn to her eyelids, and the beginnings of a nose had been fashioned. Many more surgeries would be required in the future, but this was all that could be done for now. Though she must have been in pain, she didn’t complain.

Every night, after work, my husband joined me at the hospital for time with Vicki. Then we went home to spend the evening with our four-year-old son. A few of the other mothers of children staying at the hospital chided me for not spending the nights with my child, as they did. But as the days wore on, I saw that the mothers who spent 24/7 with their children grew bone-weary, impatient, and irritable. I noticed their children became more and more demanding with each passing day, more unreasonable, and they cried a lot. Vicki, on the other hand, was happy to see me each morning, and we spent our days playing and resting together.

One night, as I tucked her in before leaving, I asked if it bothered her that I didn’t stay with her overnight. She smiled and sweetly declared, “No. Jesus and the angels are with me.” I marveled at her serenity and calm acceptance of her situation. Even at two and a half years old, she already experienced the presence of the Lord. That made it easier for me to leave her each night, secure in the knowledge that the Lord was there to comfort her.

The Spotless Lamb

2005-06-01T00:12:00.000-05:00

I stumbled across Leviticus 4:32 this evening and it triggered an old, forgotten memory from my youth. The verse says, “If he brings a lamb as his sin offering, he is to bring a female without defect.”

At a very young age, I came across this passage (or one similar to it) and was very hurt, thinking that God was displeased with my deformities. Having a deformed face, I believed that maybe I wouldn’t be allowed into Heaven because God only approved of physical perfection. My heart sank as I realized that the God who had been eavesdropping on all of my prayers was just as shallow and critical of me as the strangers who stared at me in the grocery store. Then I wondered why God would even create me with deformities if he meant to condemn me because of them. Fortunately, I didn’t let my fears go unspoken for too long and I eventually talked to my mom about it. Truthfully, I don’t remember what she told me, but being as young as I was, I was easily comforted, even though the passage continued to perplex me. Yes, the passage didn’t mean that God didn’t love me, but it still didn’t answer the burning question.

Knowing what a verse doesn’t mean is a far cry from knowing what it does mean. I’ve thought about all of this through the years and have asked a few people about it, but still haven’t had many good explanations. But, I think something struck me tonight (it seems so obvious now)!

My answer here is in no way exhaustive, but just a few fresh, random thoughts.

I see now that my confusion as a child stemmed from a common problem – interpreting Scripture with the assumption that a verse is mainly something important that God has to say about me, rather than assuming it has something to say to me…about God.

The animal sacrifices of the Old Testament era was an analogous system set up to foreshadow Jesus Christ. The blood of lambs, sacrificed repeatedly, temporarily took away sin and this system paved a road of tradition and familiarity so that when the Lamb of God came into the world he would be recognized as the final sacrifice.

If I were to be superimposed into the Leviticus passage, I would not be playing the part of the lamb. I would be the man who had sinned. So, it is an unparallel analogy to say that God did not want deformed animals to be used as a sacrifice so that means he doesn’t value deformed human beings.

In order to be a perfect shadow of Christ, the lambs had to be spotless because the Lamb of God that would come to take away the sin of the world would be. If the traditions had allowed for any old filthy, tattered, sickly animal to atone for sin, then Christ’s deity, purity, sinlessness, and perfection could not be assumed. If his purity could not be assumed, he could not be recognized as the Son of God. If he was not the Son of God, his sacrifice would have been just as temporal as the sheep’s and goat’s. But because the Levitical law was explicit - that only perfect, unblemished lambs could be offered, it gives us the confidence that Jesus Christ was not a mere scapegoat, but indeed, the Spotless Lamb who came to take away the sin of the world.

And so I now finally realize that this passage has nothing to do with me and my imperfections at all, but everything to do with Christ and his perfections.

Baby Milagros

2005-05-31T16:28:00.000-05:00

Fox News is reporting on the story of a 13-month old girl from Peru who was born with Sirenomelia (a.k.a. Mermaid Syndrome). She is undergoing the first of several operations to seperate her legs, which were seamlessly fused from the ankles to the upper thighs when she was born. The doctors are optimistic that the operation will be successful. The first surgery, a team of eleven doctors will seperate her legs from the ankles up to the knees. Sirnomelia is fairly rare - inflicting one in every 70,000 births. Milagros (which is Spanish for "Miracle") is one of three children alive in the world with Sirnomelia. Please keep Milagros and her family and her doctors in your prayers.

Carolyn

2005-05-28T19:17:00.000-05:00

On Thursday, Oprah had a woman on her show named Carolyn. The media has dubbed her "The Woman Without a Face" but having similar things said about me, I choose to call her by her name, Carolyn.

Carolyn was shot at point-blank range in the face by an enraged boyfriend a year and a half ago. Her story will air on the Discovery Health Channel on a program entitled, "Plastic Surgery: Before and After." For more program information, check out their website at: www.discovery.com/health.

For more information on Carolyn and her dramatic and inspiring ordeal, go to Oprah's website: http://www2.oprah.com/tows/pastshows/200505/tows_past_20050526.jhtml

To view a slideshow click here: http://www2.oprah.com/tows/slide/200505/20050526/slide_20050526_101.jhtml