The Works of God

Dr. Peter Saunders, CEO of Christian Medical Fellowship in the UK, wrote a thoughtful blog post on a new German monument dedicated to people with disabilities who were killed under Hitler’s T4 program.

In his post he quotes from documents that explored the role of doctors in these murders:

The beginnings at first were merely a subtle shift in emphasis in the basic attitude of the physicians. It started with the attitude, basic in the euthanasia movement that there is such a thing as a life not worthy to be lived. This attitude in its early stages concerned itself merely with the severely and chronically sick. Gradually the sphere of those to be included in this category was enlarged to encompass the socially unproductive, the ideologically unwanted, the racially unwanted and finally all non-Germans.

Dr. Brian Skotko’s 2005 survey of parents and anecdotes from many people I have met point to medical professionals moving in this direction of ‘life unworthy of life’ here.

So let us not be subtle in our response: let the children live; all of them.

Prepare to be destroyed at God’s extraordinary grace to a very loving, very good dad.

Last Saturday Pastor Bud was preaching for Pastor Jason.  He was helping us see the importance and beauty of worship, including families worshiping together in church.

Paul, however, was determined to have his say as well.  So Dianne moved away from where we were sitting to lessen the disturbance he was making.  That isn’t too unusual for us.

(I must pause here and give a shout-out to my church and their training of their volunteers.  We don’t normally attend on Saturdays, so we aren’t as well known to the regular Saturday attenders.  A young woman who was serving as a greeter/usher approached me after Dianne made the shift to let me know that Paul was very welcome where we were sitting and not to worry about it.  That felt good!)

But Paul was unusually ‘gifted’ in volume this evening! As Paul’s volume rose Dianne felt the need for another solution.

So she put him in a closet.

Before you call child welfare on us, this is a large coat closet at the back of the commons area that, being summer, wasn’t being used.  Dianne could sit where she could see Paul and where she could hear the sermon, but Paul’s vocalizing was significantly muted.  He was perfectly safe and she was MUCH more comfortable.

As she exited the closet, Pastor Bud was just getting to his point about restless children sometimes needing to be taken from the sanctuary, and he allowed that it isn’t always clear when this is the best thing to do.  Dianne thought to herself, nor is it clear when it is best to put the boy in the closet!

She tells the story much better than I can write it! I was laughing so hard when she told me after the service that tears came to my eyes.  We caught up with Pastor Bud and his wife, Lisa, after the service and told them the story. They enjoyed it as well.

You might be thinking, was this really the best solution? There are usually many different ways to handle a situation like that; there were other options. But in the moment that wasn’t too bad!

I appreciate that God has created the kind of culture at Bethlehem where behavioral expectations for children can be articulated and parents can be both exhorted and encouraged in their roles. Yet when one of God’s unusually-created human beings shows up, we have the grace (and the space) to welcome them and to let parents do some creative things outside of the norm, sometimes on the fly.

Not perfectly, of course.  But on this particular evening we went home a happy family, well served by our Pastor Bud and by our church, and grateful to God for his unusual help with a very noisy boy.

But exhort one another every day, as long as it is called “today,” that none of you may be hardened by the deceitfulness of sin. (Hebrews 3:13, ESV)

If you’re a man reading this blog, you’re probably a dad of a child with a disability.  And if you’re like most of us dads, you didn’t choose this life. I’m guessing it is harder than anything you’ve ever experienced before.

You’re not alone.

I remember feeling alone, especially in those early months.  Nobody understood what it was really like, it seemed.  A social worker invited us to a parent meeting and that was even worse – they understood, but they were all so sad or angry or resigned to life. We didn’t go back to that parent group.

Those were dark days, made even darker when I realized the doctors and specialists and educators thought dads were mostly there as a checkbook and an insurance card.

And Father’s Day?  All those happy images of dads playing ball with their sons or fishing or just enjoying each other’s company certainly didn’t apply to my situation.

But God gave me a gift that I wasn’t asking for.  His name was Karl.

You can read the rest here.

Does God really use the frustrating little things in our lives for our good?  Is repeating the same songs or verses to a child with severe disabilities really worth it?

And are those two questions related?

The team at Desiring God has developed a daily devotional created from the vast library of resources from Pastor John.  You can access it via apps for Apple and Android or through a website called Solid Joys.

What follows is the devotional for today, May 25, entitled God’s Design in Detours.  Please be tolerant of the old language signifying cognitive disabilities that was used;  it was meant simply to describe the child’s circumstances and not diminish her worth as a human being:

And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him. (Colossians 3:17)

Have you ever wondered what God is doing while you are looking in the wrong place for something you lost and needed very badly? He knows exactly where it is, and he is letting you look in the wrong place.

I once needed a quote for a new edition of my book Desiring God. I knew I had read it in Richard Wurmbrand. I thought it was in his devotional book, Reaching Toward the Heights. I could almost see it on the right hand side of the facing pages. But I couldn’t find it.

But while I was looking, I was riveted on one page, the devotional for November 30. As I read it, I said, “This is one of the reasons I have had to keep looking for my quote.” Here was a story, not for me, but for parents of broken children.

Having broken children is like looking in the wrong place for what you have lost and cannot find. Why? Why? Why? This was the unplanned reward of “wasted” moments.

In a home for retarded children, Catherine was nurtured twenty years. The child had been [mentally handicapped] from the beginning and had never spoken a word, but only vegetated. She either gazed quietly at the walls or made distorted movements. To eat, to drink, to sleep, were her whole life. She seemed not to participate at all in what happened around her. A leg had to be amputated. The staff wished Cathy well and hoped that the Lord would soon take her to Himself.

One day the doctor called the director to come quickly. Catherine was dying. When both entered the room, they could not believe their senses. Catherine was singing Christian hymns she had heard and had picked up, just those suitable for death beds. She repeated over and over again the German song, “Where does the soul find its fatherland, its rest?” She sang for half an hour with transfigured face, then she passed away quietly. (Taken from The Best Is Still to Come, Wuppertal: Sonne und Shild)

Is anything that is done in the name of Christ really wasted?

My frustrated, futile search for what I thought I needed was not wasted. Singing to this disabled child was not wasted. And your agonizing, unplanned detour is not a waste — not if you look to the Lord for his unexpected work, and do what you must do in his name (Colossians 3:17). The Lord works for those who wait for him (Isaiah 64:4).