Lessons From Katie

It was a cold and wintery Colorado afternoon, although the sun did hang in the partly cloudy sky. Traffic on the interstate buzzed by, oblivious to the proceeding inside the church. The only odd thing someone might have noticed was the crowded parking lot – not typical for a Monday.

There were more people present for this memorial service than usually occupy the sanctuary. The number of folks gathered spoke something to me of how her life had touched so many in just a few short years.

We came together to…what? Pay tribute to a life well lived? Celebrate the “home going” of a saint? Honor the family? Share their grief? It wasn’t apparent, even as we entered the great room. There was a somber tone, a conspicuous quiet, a lack of the usual laughter and conversation that takes place before a service.

The video screen at the front showed pictures of the girl, at various stages of life. Shots of her at the hospital, obviously physically afflicted in some way. There she is with her doting mother. Now she is a toddler being hugged by a relative. And the wheelchair…an ever-present part of her life. She spent all her years confined to a bed or in that wheelchair.

Katie suffered a particularly cruel sort of physical condition. Severely affected, she was very small and most fragile. Her head fell to one side, her eyesight unfocused on anything close…she seemed to be gazing off at something, someone in the far distance. She communicated with a simple smile, or by an utterance in an unknown dialect…sometimes grunting or groaning in such a way as to seem in agony. Those close to Katie knew her communications. They could tell in some way what it was she wanted them to know: her joy at someone’s kindness, or her displeasure at the country music being played on the radio.

Unable to do anything on her own, she was caught in a body that wouldn’t work the way God intended. Not in a way our society understands or values. It would be easy to look away, to ignore the figure there in the chair, to wish she would not intrude into one’s comfort zone. Katie’s humanness pushed through her broken frame and confronted everyone with the courage to look closely at her, to talk to her, to stroke her. This much was clear by the dozen or more who shared in the memorial service.

The pastor opened up the time together, indicating that this was to be a time of reflection upon who she was and what Katie meant to us. As individuals shared, it was apparent that this girl who lived into her teens, about 15 years longer than doctors predicted at her birth, possessed the fullness of humanity, and of God’s beautiful design. She had touched many, many people. Tears were shed, some smiles and even a bit of laughter.

Many paid homage to her parents, who with undying hope and fathomless love tended to her needs and refused to hide her away. They included Katie in their family routines and events, which included trips to the store shopping, church services and even the burrito place. They deserved the kind words, the affirmation. They have been examples of how to parent a special child, how to offer unconditional love, how to honor the Lord’s handiwork, even when we don’t understand it.

One comment that stood out, which sounded out a loud and eternal truth to me, was something to the effect of, “God shined through her helplessness.” Oh yes. That seems so True to me. My soul said, “Learn a lesson here. Don’t regale in your accomplishments, your abilities, your successes. Take a good hard look at your values and see what God considers valuable…a life of helplessness, a life which can be used to reflect His glory and His love. Don’t think for a moment that He needs anything you can offer in order to bring glory to Himself. On the contrary, He is best honored in our weakness and helplessness.”

Another thing that struck me. “She didn’t own anything.” Of course not. Few 15 year-olds have much in the way of material things. But this girl had even less than most. She couldn’t hold onto a book, a special blanket of coat, a prized stuffed animal. She had nothing to speak of. And yet, look around the sanctuary and see how God took her lack of possessions and touched so many through her. How often do I feel a need for things – things to signal my success, or my belonging, or my desire for earthly security and well-being.

And then we sang. And the thoughts became clearer.
“Though Satan should buffet, tho’ trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.
It is well with my soul…”

I cried at the truth of that lyric, newly embraced by my heart and mind. Lord, let me not shy away from my helplessness, let me not get stuck in my own distorted priorities, let me not get sucked into a world which is upside down in its values. Let me instead consider all that You have done for me, all that You seek to do – and all You already do, in spite of my interferences and protestations. Your ways are not my ways, they are higher and more noble than anything I might dare to think of or embrace. Lord, let me say, with the saint of so long ago, “it is well with my soul” – even when my flesh struggles and refuses to see or believe it to be so.

And the overriding thought that melancholy Monday: life is sacred. All life is given by God and deserves our respect and love, from the cradle to the grave.

Not only the strong are made in God’s image, the weak are as well. That’s what Katie would have said.

Actually, that IS what Katie said for her entire 15 years.

Oops, Maybe We Were Wrong

Many of us grew up hearing certain ideas espoused as truth. I’m not talking about anything big, theologically. I’m referring to those old wives tales that seem true enough, but then you learn “it ain’t so.” Nonetheless, as we become parents, we pass those things along to our own children.

You know the kind of thing to which I am referring. Take, for instance, the notion that reading in dim light ruins your eyesight. Not true.

According to a story in Rueters,

The majority of eye experts believe it is unlikely to do any permanent damage, but it may make you squint, blink more and have trouble focusing, the researchers said.

Oops, maybe Mom and Dad were wrong. Maybe WE have been wrong.

Find out more “medical myths” by reading the full report here.

Coffee…Research Confirms It Again

Interesting article in The Telegraph (U.K.) about coffee. It can cut the risk of skin cancer by more than a third, according to recent research.

   
 

Researchers found that people who drank more than six cups of caffeinated coffee a day reduced their chances of developing the most common form of skin cancer by 35 per cent while those who drank two or three cups were 12 per cent less likely to have the disease.

Scientists believe caffeine could stop the spread of skin cancer - for any number of plausible reasons.

I’ve taken some grief at home for my consumption of the black stuff. Now that this study is out, I think I’ll have fewer complaints. Doesn’t hurt, either, that my wife is drinking coffee pretty regularly, and two of the older kids like it (we only let them have half a cup a week or so).

Read the complete article right here

Tale of Two Boys, III

Not too long ago there was an article in a Russian paper about a baby house where kids with defects live. A few days later the readers wrote a reply, that these kids should be killed. “We don’t want to see them,” they said. What a disturbing sentiment, devaluing life and seeking to avoid confronting handicapped individuals.

That same mindset came out in an article published in a Moscow daily in 1993. A letter appeared in a leading Russian weekly from the mother of a child with Down syndrome. The letter was entitled, “Why Coddle Such Freaks?,” and it included this line, “I am asking the doctor to put my (handicapped) child to sleep. (Why) let them live?”

You can see that there is a lack of value associated with any individual who is not “normal,” and that life is not given any inherent value. This, of course, is a reflection of a godless government and culture, which still is part of the fabric of Russian society. It is a humanistic philosophy that devalues life.

Against that backdrop, a child who has no parents to defend him or her, and who has a physical or mental handicap, will not thrive they may not even survive.

I say “survive” because an international advocacy group that has researched conditions in Russian orphanages indicates that

…these orphans are at significant risk of premature death. One leading child welfare advocate in Moscow told Human Rights Watch that estimates from government figures indicate the death rate in these asylums is twice the rate in the general population. He also knows one asylum where he said that the death rate rose to as high as three and a half times the rate in the society outside its walls.

Additionally, a national statistic from the Ukraine indicated that

“approximately thirty percent of all severely disabled children in special homes—a staggering figure—die before they reach eighteen.”

Back to the story of Savkin, which I started yesterday. He was a boy who was diagnosed – at age four - as a heavily disabled child, labeled an idiot and placed in one of the many asylums in Russia. There he stayed.

So you see, with a handicap, Savkin’s hope for any normalcy in life is pretty much erased. He won’t be educated adequately, he won’t receive treatment for his ailments, he won’t be eligible for adoption, he will instead be sent to an asylum for the rest of his days.

And even if Savkin is born “normal” in every way, with no apparent handicaps, statistics indicate he is not likely to become a healthy adult, and instead will likely go on to a life of crime, drugs, prostitution – or all of those.

Not a hopeful situation for anyone to be in.

Tale of Two Boys, II

Let me tell you about another boy, Savkin. He had a number of physical challenges as a result of being premature. He went into the neonatal ICU, where he was treated for a severely low birth weight, a lack of normal responsiveness to sensory input and underdeveloped lungs.

He recovered fairly well, and was put in an orphanage at a local hospital. Weak and suffering from unknown conditions, he didn’t interact much with nurses, didn’t exhibited some unusual behaviors, such as lack of eye contact and lack of vocalization.

As he grew into a toddler, Savkin had trouble with physical coordination, and displayed little ability for communication and socialization – did not make eye contact, was unable to verbalize more than a few words, and displaying little tolerance for other people. He became more and more isolated.

I should tell you about a child like this Savkin, an orphan with a disability. The Russian Ministry of Education puts each child under its care into one of two group, those with no disabilities, and a second group contains children diagnosed as lightly disabled, and officially termed “debil.”

The Ministry of Labor and Social Development takes charge of orphans who are diagnosed by a board of state medical and educational reviewers as having heavy physical and mental disabilities at the age of four.

Such children are confined to cribs, staring at the ceiling. They are fed and changed, but deprived of real meaningful one-to-one attention and sensory stimulation and are not encouraged to walk or talk.

Officially labeled “imbetsil” or “idiot” at age four, a diagnosis they will suffer from for the rest of their life. They are committed to closed institutions which often resemble Dickensian asylums of the nineteenth century.

Human Rights groups have visited these asylums, and report seeing children who were considered “too active” or “too difficult” being confined to dark or barren rooms with barely a place to sit. There were other harsh treatments observed, but I won’t go into any detail here. It will suffice to say that children in the Russian orphanage system who have handicaps are not well cared for, generally.

Savkin made it to the age of eighteen, but when he was moved onto an adult asylum, again removed from public view (Russians generally don’t like to see the disabled, preferring to keep them isolated from society).

A boy without a future. If only someone would care.

There are a number of ways you can do something tangible to care for the Savkins of the world. Get involved, pray, give, go. If your heart is stirred, take a leap of faith, and check out the suggestions for orphan care you’ll find here.

Price of Service

Like you, I know many family members, neighbors and friends who have served in the U.S. military. Most of them have survived relatively unscathed by the years aboard ships, in the trenches, in the air. Some did not.

Recently, a friend’s son experienced a close call with an IED. A Marine serving in the middle east, he was usually the machine gunner on a Humvee. That’s a pretty dangerous place. One day, though, he was on a foot patrol when an explosion knocked him out and did some damage. He wasn’t as badly wounded by the bomb as one of his buddies, but this soldier did take acquire some shrapnel that will remain embedded in his legs for the rest of his days, and his hearing was affected. Still, despite such an attack, he is back on duty and serving courageously. Read about him here.

Others are not so fortunate. Many, of course, do not come back home alive. Some are severely maimed by combat. There are those, too, who don’t have visible scars from the fighting, but are nonetheless wounded. They have been emotionally scarred, and the impact of the stresses and memories they carry are real and lasting.

It was an honor to be in the presence of some soldiers who shared candidly about their difficulties in coping with their military tours. Our guests for three days told of the pressures, the dangers, the effects of being in the line of fire.

We owe it to the brave men and women who loyally serve in our military to become educated about post traumatic stress disorder, because every one of them will come home with scenes, sounds and experiences burned into their being. Many will return with injuries that are apparent. Some will be scarred in ways we can’t see. They all need our support, understanding and love.

Autism in the News

I’ve talked on-air a bit about our son, who is a precious little fellow. He has autism, and we’ve caught it early. That has helped us become informed about the range of treatment approaches, and is surely contributing to his very good progress.

Some days the autism seems more manageable, others it presents some real parenting challenges. Regardless of the present circumstances, we continue to have hope for a bright future for this boy.

Pertaining to autism, there was an iteresting story in the news today about early detection.

Two new clinical reports from the American Academy of Pediatrics (AAP) will help pediatricians recognize autism spectrum disorders (ASDs) earlier and guide families to effective interventions, which will ultimately improve the lives of children with ASDs and their families.

For details on the new guidelines, and to see a list of signs that could indicate a child has autism, go here.

Every parent needs to pay close attention to the development of their child. Believe me, if there is anything unusual happening, you’ll want to know about that as early as possible.

A Little Perspective

A little perspective is a good thing. As a parent, I am constantly (it seems) trying to help my children to see life through a broader lens. They seem far too focused on their own little world. Without some perspective, they can miss the fact that they are blessed beyond belief. They enjoy opportunities materially, emotionally, and spiritually that much of the world cannot imagine.

Of course, in writing that short paragraph, I am struck by my own shortcomings in this part of life. I whine and moan at times, forgetting that God has richly blessed me and I have no reason to complain. Frankly, I need some perspective, too!

With a personal testimony similar in some ways to Joni’s, in this series Eva Whittington Self describes how her faith has helped her deal with the emotional and physical challenges of being paralyzed.

Listen in, and get some perspective for the day.

Blocked Goals

Why do you get angry? How do you deal with frustration? What happens when you can’t get your way? Simple questions, but a bit uncomfortable to really answer because that requires some rather serious introspection and honesty. Few of us want to go there - it is painful to confront my inner self and all my shortcomings.

In my early 20s I participated in a small group at church, and we watched a video presentation by Dr. Larry Crabb. One of the statements he made in that series has stuck in my mind ever since, and it related to how I handle life when my plans are interupted. “Blocked goals, especially when we think them necessary for our survival, generate anger.” In essence, the idea is that when I get angry it may well be because an obstacle got in the way of accomplishing one or more goals.

At times when my anger has flared up, I’ve tried to thoughtfully consider why that emotional response is happening. What’s behind that flare-up? At those times it can also help to gain a bit of perspective on life, see things through a different lens.

Today’s Focus on the Family program has one man’s story of blocked goals, and they were serious health issues at a time of life when, for most of us, the future seems brightest. This man had every reason to become bitter and angry. If facing the same kind of circumstances, many people would shake their fist at God and challenge His goodness and sovereignty. Not this young man…no, he found something else besides the pain and anger to concentrate on.

If you are struggling with difficulties in your life, you’ve got to hear Dan Miller’s fascinating and inspirational account of overcoming adversity. It’ll help put some perspective on and encouragement for what you might be experiencing.

Off-Balance?

Raise your hand if you have ever felt overwhelmed by life. Keep it up if you are having that sinking feeling even today. C’mon, be honest. You are running faster than you want. You are losing track of details. You are tired.

I’m not sure how life got so fast. For our family, I guess part of it is having six children and all the attendant activities and responsibilities. Life in the U.S. is just this way - a blistering pace for everyone. Part of it is just that we have many obligations and interests that keep us moving more often than not.

At times I want the world to stop. At other times I wonder why, with all the privileges and opportunities, am I discontent?

Dr. Richard Swenson is a man I admire greatly. He seems at such peace. He has made decisions to simplify his life. He isn’t (as far as I can tell) subject to a helter-skelter pace for life. And he doesn’t produce guilt as he shares some of his “secrets of success” in this important broadcast series.

One of his approaches to making life more manageable: get rid of some of that wardrobe, and make it easier to pick out a shirt. I adopted that idea and now only wear blue or white dress shirts for work. I know that sounds boring, but it makes finding a matching tie pretty simple and also speeds up my morning routine. Not earth-shaking, I know, but still, this is one of the better decisions I’ve made over the years. I am grateful to Dr. Swenson for this bit of advice.

If you are off-balance in life, wanting practical ideas about making change, find some solutions in these programs.

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