I am an unchurched Christian.

I am ashamed to say it, but it’s true.

For the better part of the last five years, our family has spent very little time in church—I couldn’t even call us irregular attendees.

What gives? I mean, I am a PK (preacher’s kid) and all, for goodness’ sake! How can I not be attending church? Aren’t Christians supposed to go to church?

Well, it’s not because I don’t want to go. Oh, we’ve gone in “fits and starts”. But there have been seasons of life when it has been impossible for us to go because it was just too much for Jacob.

In your church, do you see, or know of, any adults or families with kids with Down’s Syndrome? In wheelchairs? With autism? Or other disabilities? Is your church reaching out to and loving on these folks?

Lots of times, if these things do not affect you directly, it is not on your radar at all. Which is understandable. I get that, but we are out there: Christian families, who love the Lord, but find it nearly impossible, for whatever reason, to be a part of a church.

Where do families with special needs fit in our churches today?

In our various moves around the country, we have attended many churches over the years. Churches of many denominations—Southern Baptist, Evangelical Presbyterian, non-denominational.

Only one of those churches offered a specific ministry to those with special needs and their families.

Unfortunately for my family, that was before we even knew we were a family with special needs.

Even though we were not a part of that ministry at that particular church, I was keenly aware of how it met the needs of many of the families in our church. I knew families whose lives were deeply impacted by that ministry. Those special folks were not only welcomed and ministered to, they were celebrated. They were a vital part of the body of that church.

In fact, it was because of that ministry that many of those families were able to come to church at all.

³ For by the grace given me I say to every one of you: Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment, in accordance with the faith God has distributed to each of you. ⁴ For just as each of us has one body with many members, and these members do not all have the same function, ⁵ so in Christ we, though many, form one body, and each member belongs to all the others.  ~Romans 12:3-5 (NIV) emphasis mine

As a PK, I grew up on the pews of quite a few Methodist churches around eastern North Carolina. I was raised attending summer camps and youth groups and revival meetings. Church was an integral part of our family.

I remember fondly laying my head on my mother’s lap in those pews, looking curiously at one of her veined hands, while the other gently stroked my hair as my Daddy preached from the pulpit.

I also remember, as I got a little older, cracking up in those pews at my older brother as he pointed and snickered at how the blue hair of the old lady in the pew in front of us matched her blue suit. It was quite hilarious, much to my mother’s chagrin. She shot us the dagger eyes. It still tickles me to this day.

Nowadays, when I get asked where we attend church, I am ashamed to say that currently we are not attending anywhere, and I am quick to add, “but we have been visiting and just haven’t found our church home yet.”

Which is sort of the truth and sort of a lie.

The truth is we haven’t found a church home where we feel our son is comfortable, understood or welcomed. And the truth is, we are not the only ones.

When you have a family member with special needs whether they are hidden disabilities like autism, as in our case, or they are more visible, you need a church family. You need to feel that your child will be loved on, safe, and accepted into your church family, not looked at as a situation to be dealt with, feared or simply tolerated.

Sometimes I feel like the fact that we are not attending church regularly makes me less of a Christian somehow, and a failure at raising godly children. In a family of ministers (my father and both brothers), I sometimes feel like I am failing miserably. I know that is not true.

I know that going to church doesn’t make you a Christian anymore than standing in your garage makes you a car.

I just miss the fellowship. I miss the teaching. The worship. I feel like my kids are missing out and honestly, I feel guilty for not being in church. Please know that I am not blaming anyone else for our being unchurched. I know that I have a part to play in this as well, but I see a general lack in this area of ministry in churches. I believe churches need to take some time to consider whether they are reaching out to all families.

I am not just talking about creating another program to slap on the weekly calendar of the church.

I am talking about love.

Who is church for, anyway?

Is church just for those who look the part, all cleaned up and acceptable in the eyes of the church? Those who are easy to look at and care for?

I’m  not just talking about those with special needs or disabilities, either.

I am talking about people who struggle with addiction, whose marriages are falling apart, who have a family member who has committed suicide. I am talking about the homeless, the poor, the elderly, infirm,  and shut in, the mentally ill, the outcasts of society.

All need to be loved and need the fellowship of other believers. They need relationships. They need Jesus. They need people to be His hands and feet.

What if Jesus had thrown up His hands and shrugged his shoulders when the woman came to the well at Samaria? What if Jesus had allowed the men to stone that adulterous woman? Or ignored the lepers and the prostitutes? What if God had never changed the life of Saul that day on the Damascus Road? Because if anybody appeared to be a lost cause, it was Saul. Many of today’s churches wouldn’t have touched him with a ten foot pole! The parables Jesus told about the Good Samaritan and the Prodigal Son aren’t just stories. They are examples for us to follow about how to minister to people in the trenches of life. Every trench—the painful, ugly, prickly, muddy, stinky, scary and difficult-to-navigate trenches.

He meets us where we are. He loves intentionally.

I think His church needs to do the same.

 

“The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’  ~Matthew 25:40

Thank You, Mrs. T

It is so strange when I awaken suddenly from a dream and there are tears coming down my face. It does not happen often. I rarely remember my dreams, and I don’t remember the one from last night fully, but what I do remember is so vivid.

As a teenager, in the early 1980s, I lived in a very small North Carolina town. How small was it? One stop light small. At the time there was probably a population of about a thousand people in that town, most of whom were related to one another in some way. Having moved there when I was 11, we were kind of the outsiders who had come late to the party—related to no one.

We attended the Methodist church in town and my brothers and I were very active in the UMYF (United Methodist Youth Fellowship) there. Our leaders were a couple by the name of Jim and Holly T., who had a young family of 4 children, and then they added one more during my youth group tenure. These two graciously volunteered their time to work with us kids. I have always had a close relationship with my parents, but there was also something incredibly special about Miss Holly. We all called her Miss Holly, as is the Southern tradition some places, or Mrs. T. Some kids even called her Mama T, as she was a mother to all the youth. All the youth group kids loved her and Mr. T and we all knew we were welcome at their home any time. It was a safe place. My time in UMYF and with Mr. and Mrs. T is filled with wonderful memories.

After my junior year of high school, my family moved out of state. I didn’t see Mrs. T for a few years until I was about to get married in 1989. She attended my bridal shower and she brought me a cast iron frying pan and an apron. Not just any old apron she had gone out and bought, but an apron that was hers, from her kitchen, from her heart. It was nothing fancy, but you could tell it had been handmade and used by her and worn in her kitchen as she went about lovingly preparing things for her family and her “other kids”, like me and so many others. I still have that apron and I use it occasionally and every time I put it on, I think of that sweet woman. It is like having a piece of her.

I was married and moved away and her family also moved from that town and we lost touch after that. But she has always held a special place for me.

Then, in early 2007 , when we were living in Iowa, I received word that Mrs. T had passed away from pancreatic cancer. It had taken her quickly, as pancreatic cancer often does, and I learned of it after the fact. Sadly, I never got the chance to tell her how much she meant to me and that I loved her.

I had not thought of her in a long time but recently, I reconnected with Mr. T on Facebook. And maybe that is why Mrs. T appeared in my dream last night.

In this dream, I was standing in a convenience store parking lot. It was no specific convenience store from my past, just a random one, and standing with me were a couple of other kids from the youth group days. And then suddenly, there was Mrs. T standing in front of me with that wonderful smile of hers and that throaty laugh. I grabbed hold of her and hugged her so tight. As I hugged her, I said, “I miss you” and tears began to stream down my face.

And then I sat straight up in my bed, awake, and crying.

What I remember most about her is her infectious smile,  her joy for life and her always open arms. And her always loving on all those kids. And I miss her.

Thank you, Mrs. T. I know your reward was great when you met Jesus face to face.

Thank You by Ray Boltz

I dreamed I went to heaven
And you were there with me;
We walked upon the streets of gold
Beside the crystal sea.
We heard the angels singing
Then someone called your name.
We turned and saw a young man running
And he was smiling as he came.

And he said, “Friend you may not know me now.”
And then he said, “But wait,
You used to teach my Sunday School
When I was only eight.
And every week you would say a prayer
Before the class would start.
And one day when you said that prayer,
I asked Jesus in my heart.”

Thank you for giving to the Lord.
I am a life that was changed.
Thank you for giving to the Lord.
I am so glad you gave.

Then another man stood before you
And said, “Remember the time
A missionary came to your church
And his pictures made you cry.
You didn’t have much money,
But you gave it anyway.
Jesus took the gift you gave
And that’s why I’m here today.”

Thank you for giving to the Lord.
I am a life that was changed.
Thank you for giving to the Lord.
I am so glad you gave.

One by one they came
Far as the eye could see.
Each life somehow touched
By your generosity.
Little things that you had done,
Sacrifices made,
Unnoticed on the earth
In heaven, now proclaimed.

And I know up in heaven
You’re not supposed to cry
But I am almost sure
There were tears in your eyes.
As Jesus took your hand
And you stood before the Lord.
He said, “My child, look around you.
Great is your reward.”

Thank you for giving to the Lord.
I am a life that was changed.
Thank you for giving to the Lord.
I am so glad you gave.