Dear Parent of a Child with Disabilities, You Can Do Beautiful Things
You know what I grieve sometimes? Productivity. The ability to serve. Giving a lot to the cause of Christ. I no longer have hours and hours to dedicate to developing and leading hermeneutics workshops. My stores of emotional and mental energy for personal discipleship are depleted. And the little boxes on my to do list are all used up, thereby making me useless to the serve teams and planning committees I used to participate in. The resources of my time and energy have significantly reduced.
A New Narrative for the Lowly
Families with developmental disabilities or psychiatric disorders often feel far from useful. The reduced capacity for service and a pervasive feeling of neediness almost always come with a distasteful sidekick: shame. At times in my own life, I have believed the lie that all I can hope for is to be tolerated by the body of Christ, and even by Jesus Himself. I have come to see myself and our family as a drain to our local church instead of contributors to it.
Scripture tells a different story though. Scripture tells a story in which even the poorest and lowest among us can do beautiful things for Jesus. Consider the woman with the alabaster flask. A woman “who had lived a sinful life” (Luke 7:37). She brought an alabaster flask and anointed Jesus’ head with ointment of pure nard. She was a mess. Luke tells us that “…she stood behind him at his feet weeping, [and] she began to wet his feet with her tears. Then she wiped them with her hair, kissed them and poured perfume on them.” Some who were reclining (so, by implication, relaxed, carefree, and full) with Jesus criticized her and her gift, both in their heads and some out loud. You may resonate all too well with this scenario. Perhaps doing your best to get to church, to offer your choked and awkward praise to the Lord, a bit bedraggled and very emotional. All this while others appear well dressed and smiling, perhaps wondering in their heads or out loud (or maybe just in your jaded imagination) why you weren’t there early for the pre-service children’s ministry practice or bake sale. But look at how Jesus addresses the onlookers, and look even closer at how He views the gift of the woman in Mark 14:6-9:
6 But Jesus said, “Leave her alone. Why do you trouble her? She has done a beautiful thing to Me. 7 For you always have the poor with you, and whenever you want, you can do good for them. But you will not always have Me. 8 She has done what she could; she has anointed my body beforehand for burial. 9 And truly, I say to you, wherever the gospel is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will be told in memory of her.”
In his commentary on the Gospels, J. C. Ryle points out that “nowhere, perhaps, in the Gospels, do we find such strong praises bestowed on any person, as this woman here receives.” This mess of a woman. I take incredible encouragement and, dare I say, hope in that. Because it means that this mess of a woman (me! Maybe you?) can also bring something of beauty to my Lord. Jesus commends the intention and quality of her effort, not the specific content of it. Her gift was costly, it was motivated by love for Jesus, and her intention was to honor Him. Jesus called this a good work. A beautiful work.
To Do What You Can is No Small Thing
I think my favorite part of this passage, maybe because at this point in my life it is the most relatable, is that Jesus acknowledges that “she did what she could” and He commends her for it. This is uniquely relevant to those restricted by disability or psychiatric illness. We know all too well about only being able to “do what we can”. When we consider this little phrase it becomes apparent that it has gigantic import. It tells us that we, too, can bring beautiful things to the Lord.
In order to strengthen the point, consider also Mark 12:41-44:
41 And He sat down opposite the treasury and watched the people putting money into the offering box. Many rich people put in large sums. 42 And a poor widow came and put in two small copper coins, which make a penny. 43 And He called his disciples to Him and said to them, “Truly, I say to you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the offering box. 44 For they all contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on.”
Once again, what do we see? This poor, likely lonely and abandoned woman gave what she had to give, and though in an absolute sense her gift was small, in the eyes of Jesus her gift was more than all of the riches the rich could offer. Why? Because she gave all that she could. Her gift was costly, it was motivated by love, and her action revealed a deep intention to honor God.
Great Conviction, Great Comfort
Jesus’ commendation of the woman with the alabaster box and the widow with her two coins should stir in us fresh conviction and great comfort.
Fresh Conviction
Stop and ask yourself if, like these woman, you daily give what you can. J. C. Ryle further comment[ing on the woman with the alabaster box] says: “Thousands live and die… who are always saying, ‘I try all I can. I do all I can.’ And yet in saying so, they tell as great a lie as Ananias and Sapphira. Few, it may be feared, are to be found like this woman, and really deserve to have it said of them, that they ‘do what they can.’ Let us leave the passage with practical self-application. Let us, like this holy woman… devote ourselves, and all we have, to Christ’s glory. Our position in the world may be lowly, and our means of usefulness few. But let us, like her, ‘do what we can.'”
I very highly doubt that the passage regarding the widow and her two coins is meant to be restricted to financial giving. I’m sure that Jesus would apply this to all of the resources He has given us- resources of energy, time, knowledge, talents, and finances. As you consider (and accept!) the unique and trying situation God has placed you in, consider some of the unique resources that you can offer in service to the Lord and be generous and sacrificial where you can. This may require you to get creative and think outside the box. I recently attended mental health related court with a friend even though I knew it would be emotionally taxing and would likely put me in a funk for the rest of the day. My kids were at school, so I had the time. I wanted to say no because I had already spent the morning crying, and because I had laundry to do, grocery shopping to complete, etc, etc. But I love this friend dearly, and I love Jesus even more, and I felt the gracious nudge of the Holy Spirit to follow through and seize the seemingly small opportunity to participate in His body, and in doing so I felt His pleasure. Be willing to let go of old expectations for ministry in order to make space for new opportunities to serve where you haven’t before. The Kingdom of God often seems upside down- He chooses the weak to shame the strong- so when a seemingly small ministry opportunity arises, take the sacrificial step in faith, and watch God use it to produce joy in you and fruit in His church. To “do what you can” does not mean to give the left overs, it means to do whatever you can! However small the gift, His glory demands our sacrificial giving, in whatever capacity we can. Be convicted by that, and don’t shy away from the high call just because you can’t give like you used to.
Great Comfort
Jesus knows that you are dust (Psalm 103:14). He knows what you face in your daily life. He is not holding you to a service quota, raising his eyebrows at your dwindling service. To offer what you can is enough. To offer what you can is a good work. To offer what you can is beautiful. He calls it beautiful. Take comfort in that. The Creator of all things (Col. 3)– of the Great Barrier Reef, the Amazon, and the Grand Canyon– calls your sacrificial gift beautiful, no matter how “small”. This might look like simply showing up sometimes. I can wholeheartedly say that there have been (many) days when getting my kids to church, meltdowns, obsessive interests, rituals, and sensory sensitivities in tow, can feel like the biggest effort that I’ve ever made for Jesus. Sometimes, that ministry to my children, is what I can do. That is me giving all that I have. If that sounds pathetic— remember, the widow brought two coins (about two dollars in today’s economy)! Maybe at other times doing what you can looks like serving in the nursery because it requires no prep work, and babies need holding. It might mean offering an empathetic ear to someone in your small group, or making a meal, or attending a doctors appointment with a friend while your kids are at school. It may cost you, sure. But what a reward, to know that Jesus can say of you “she has done a beautiful thing”. Some years the “ointment” you offer may be larger in an absolute sense, and other years it may seem minuscule to temporal, earthly-minded eyes. But take great comfort in the pleasure of your Lord as He receives your gift. Take comfort in the fact that it is the devotion and love behind the gift that makes it beautiful, not its size or earthly value. Take comfort, parent of a child with disabilities, you can absolutely do beautiful things.
What we can do might be small, but let’s do it. The challenge is to genuinely give what you can, and then genuinely rest in the reality of your Savior’s satisfaction in what you’ve given. Up to the challenge?