body of Christ – Page 6

For Our Daughters

By: Abigail Dodds March 16, 2016

body of Christ, culture, family, gratitude, kiddos2 Comments

CBMW published an article I wrote today. Here’s an excerpt and a link to the rest.

“As the mother of three daughters, I’ve had lots of opportunities to think about what I want them to know as they grow into women. I want the truth of the Bible to be reality for them, not some foreign and unusual concept. The spirit of our age rejects the Bible as bizarre, backwards, and harmful to women. I want my girls to know that it’s none of those things—it is their life, the place they go to know their Savior. When they aren’t sure who to trust, I want them to trust the message and Person in the Pages.

Here are five things I want my daughters to know. All of them have been distorted by the world and must be recast for them—both as they see these truths lived out in the godly women around them and as they see them wisely drawn from the Scriptures.

ONE: Beauty is part of womanhood in a way that it isn’t part of manhood. It need not be your enemy nor should it be counted on as a friend. Accept the external beauty God’s given you as part of his particular design for you. Give thanks and move on, realizing that it is not the substance of your personhood, but simply a gift. Do not waste your time wishing you were other than you are and dishonoring your Maker. God made you and he made you beautifully so that he could give us a picture of what he wants our souls to be like. He wants you to cultivate a beautiful spirit. Spend your time on this, not looking in the mirror. There is only one mirror that will show you yourself: it’s the Word of God. Find yourself there—find yourself hidden in Christ.”

Read the rest.

Hopeful No Matter What Happens on Super Tuesday

By: Abigail Dodds March 1, 2016

body of Christ, culture, gratitude, politics, UncategorizedLeave a Comment

As we in MN stare down Super Tuesday, poised to do our part and head to the caucus, I find myself hopeful and thankful.

With just a smidge of irony (because isn’t that how God works?), “Two” Corinthians just so happens to be the place where all this hope is welling up from.

“Therefore, having this ministry by the mercy of God, we do not lose heart. But we have renounced disgraceful, underhanded ways. We refuse to practice cunning or to tamper with God’s word, but by the open statement of the truth we would commend ourselves to everyone’s conscience in the sight of God. And even if our gospel is veiled, it is veiled to those who are perishing. In their case the god of this world has blinded the minds of the unbelievers, to keep them from seeing the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God. For what we proclaim is not ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, with ourselves as your servants for Jesus’ sake. For God, who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.” (2 Corinthians 4:1-6 ESV)

Christian friends, let’s resolve with Paul to refuse to practice cunning, but with an open statement of truth, let’s commend ourselves to everyone’s conscience. We can openly and with a clear resolve, give our Gospel, God-fearing reasons for who we hope will be President of our country, all the while making it clear that our peace with God is not disturbed by whatever happens. We can give thanks for all that there is to give thanks for in this country. This is our chance to show who our hope really is in. Go to your caucus and preach Christ, friends, not a candidate. Yes, you’ll have to vote one way or another and I’m sincerely praying that no Christians vote for Trump, but even as we give our support to a candidate, we must make it our larger goal to point to the source of true hope. Is there a place more fraught with worry and anger and more in need of the Gospel than the political sphere? We have an opportunity to shine the light of Christ.

Perhaps the most countercultural way we can testify to the fact that Christ has come to save–that his kingdom is at hand–is to show that by the imperturbable state of our heart and utter reliance and confidence in God. Preach Christ by refusing to let your spirit be rattled or agitated by what’s to come. Which isn’t to say that we are indifferent. No, not indifferent, but set apart, invested in the life of our country, but with our citizenship fully in heaven.

I’m remembering that God uses the strangest, most unlikely things to draw people to himself. I’m remembering that, even though some may intend evil, that God means all things for good for his people and that, even while we work against the evil as we should, God is powerful to turn the evil upside down and refine his church, strengthen his bride and bring many sons to glory.

We live in the Kingdom of light, not darkness, and I don’t mean America. God has transferred us from the kingdom of darkness and now we walk with him in the light. God’s kingdom came to us when he shined the light of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ into our hearts. Rather than act fearful of all that could come, we stand on a sure foundation. We do not fear for ourselves or our children. We serve the Living God and he will make all grace abound to us, no matter the outcome of Super Tuesday or any day after.

So, go caucus friends; caucus as unashamed and immovable children of God and bring the light of Christ to the dark places.

Conscripted for Life, Not War: Why the Draft is Wrong for Women

By: Abigail Dodds February 9, 2016February 9, 2016

body of Christ, culture, politics, Uncategorized20 Comments

I watched the latest Republican Presidential debate with usual dutifulness. I want to be informed, I want to understand the candidates, and I want to play the small part God’s given me in this process, but as this was not the first one, I didn’t expect anything revelatory.

Imagine my shock as I listened to not one, but three, so-called conservative candidates vigorously support selective service–including combat—for women, even referencing the importance of equality for their daughters in their responses. Selective service registration exists as a way to reinstitute the draft should the need arise.

I’m sure I’m not the only one who was having a hard time equating women’s progress with conscripting them to fight wars. Don’t get me wrong. I believe fathers should value their daughters. I think they should encourage them to do marvelous things. I just also happen to think they should value them as members of the female sex, not pretend that there are no biological, muscle mass differences between them and men.

It seems our government, indeed our culture, has engaged in a rendition of The Emperor Has No Clothes, but instead it’s something more along the lines of, The Women Are No Different Than the Men. This idea that, because women can think as clearly as a man, that it would follow that she can (and should) also fight in combat against men with the same effectualness is, not to put too fine a point on it, absurd. I’m an average-sized female in relatively decent shape and even as I observe the smaller of the male sex, I know that it would be a poor bet to imagine that I could overpower or outrun such a man. There’s a reason women are anxious in dark parking lots at night and men aren’t. We aren’t stupid.

You may object. You may tell me about your friend who’s a fitness instructor or unbelievably strong or played on a boys’ lacrosse team. I grant all that. But is it the norm? And even given the fact that women can be physically strong, despite the reality that many are not, is that what God gave us strength for? To fight in combat against men?

God gave women marvelous strength. Strength that wasn’t meant to be compared or measured against a man. Last time I checked, I’d never met a man able to give birth. I’ve also never known a man able to handle months of sleep deprivation during which he fed a tiny human round the clock from his very own body. These are (some of) the unique strengths of a woman and we ought not to degrade men for being unable to perform these feats. Likewise, I should feel no sense of shame over the simple fact that I can’t take down a man in combat. Why would I want to? It’s not what I was made for.

Strength is a garment women ought to wear. The kind of strength that stretches out its arms to support the poor, to feed hungry souls, to grow and harvest all that God has given you. It is a strength that nurtures life, not war. Whether a woman can give birth or not, her strength is fundamentally different than a man’s. We can keep pretending this isn’t so, or we can embrace the body and the biology God has assigned to us.

In college, I was one of those girls who managed to get my MRS. degree along with my actual diploma. I remember the jokes and the smugness toward the girls who were open about wanting to be married and start a family. The peer pressure on college girls to forsake that sort of “wasting of your education” was sizable.

But let’s not succumb to that sort of juvenile peer pressure, as if an education’s value is found anywhere but saddled to a man and children. We won’t all get married in college (or at all) and we must all walk the path God has for us. But the desire to be married, the desire to have a family is a good one. Let’s not mistake it for something else. Similarly, the desire to live our lives now as women, clothed in the sort of strength that makes us uniquely women, not men battling in combat, is also a good one. Elisabeth Elliot said it best, “Let me be a woman.”

Because Christmas Keeps Coming

By: Abigail Dodds December 13, 2015

body of Christ, family, gratitude, Uncategorized1 Comment

I’m reliving the past as I sit at home Sunday morning with a vomiting kiddo, on the cusp of Christmas once again and the thoughts stir in my head about the Incarnation, the mess, the chaos, the Word, and what’s this all about anyway?!

Then I start to sense that perhaps I’ve thought these thoughts before, perhaps these feelings are all too familiar. Maybe, could it be, I’ve actually written these thoughts down before. One advantage to having an overstuffed memory is that everything seems new all the time! I’ve been known to sit down to a movie I’ve seen before with almost no recollection of it whatsoever. Maybe that’s why writing the same themes over and over again never gets old.

And maybe that’s why Christmas comes every year. Because our finitude makes us needy for reminders. Chesterton says, “But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible that God says every morning, “Do it again” to the sun; and every evening, “Do it again” to the moon.”

And also, perhaps knowing this world is for finite people, he’d know that that’s how often we’d need reminded that he is good. He is God. He did it, again–the sun gave warmth and light. Maybe he knows that I’d forget, even in just a day, that he does that sort of incomprehensible thing.

So, to remind myself of the lessons of yesteryear, I’m linking up to my previous Christmas posts. If they all sound strangely similar, let’s just say God doesn’t tire of teaching me the same lesson. I’m so thankful that Christmas keeps coming.

A Christmas Misadventure (With Stitches)

What Vomit Under the Christmas Tree Teaches Me About the Glorious Incarnation

Christmas in Pictures

What’s With All This Stuff?! It’s Christmas Of Course!

A Mom’s Made-Up Holiness at Christmas

Reflections on Giving Thanks

By: Abigail Dodds November 23, 2015

body of Christ, gratitude, UncategorizedLeave a Comment

Thanksgiving is right around the corner which has got me thinking about the sometimes strange interplay between our thankfulness, our suffering and our identity in Christ.

Every now and then you’ll meet someone or perhaps you’ll be someone (I know I’ve wrestled with this) who can’t tolerate the coexistence of suffering and thankfulness. Some of us are simply convinced that a thankful heart will cancel out the legitimacy of our suffering. That if we give way to true full throated thankfulness, people will start forgetting our pain and trials.

Actually this is the farthest thing from the truth. When we’re thankful to God for all the gifts he’s given and especially the sending of his Son to die and live for us, people are not less interested in walking alongside our suffering, but rather we become less invested in it. Our hardships are not the definitive part of our life that we must make sure everyone knows about us, rather Christ in us, is the thing that cannot be contained and must be made known to everyone we meet. Our sufferings do not disappear because we’ve sprinkled magical thankful dust on them, but now they serve the cause of magnifying him as part of the story he’s given us.

Thanksgiving is powerful, to be sure, in as much as it focuses on the pinnacle of all things to be thankful for: the word of truth, the Gospel of Jesus, the grace of God to save and sanctify us and the Triune God himself. The world has tapped into the remedial power of thanksgiving–godless people recognize that focusing on the good things in life rather than the bad makes you a happier person. But this is the teeniest, tiniest taste of what thanksgiving affords. Even thanksgiving that is misguided in its direction (thankful to stuff rather than to the Giver), can have a strong impact on someone’s life.

Yet, we who have Christ must ponder how true thankfulness for the most thank-worthy event and Person in history transforms the human heart. It is part and parcel of our new birth and identity in Christ. When our minds are made alert to the Gospel and the Spirit is blowing life into us, the warmth in His breath is thankfulness. Thankful people are genuinely warm. I’ve never met a cold person with a thankful bent.

Oh my prayer for this heart of mine is warm, glad-hearted thankfulness– first and foremost to God for his sending Christ into the world on a saving mission and Christ imparting the Spirit, then along with those, that I give thanks to God in all things and every circumstance.

Even in lament, our identity as God’s children give us reason for thanks. Psalm 73 is a psalm of lament, and God’s people end it like this:

“But we your people, the sheep of your pasture,
will give thanks to you forever;
from generation to generation we will recount your praise.”(Psalm 79:13 ESV)

A Hot Mess of Glory, or, Our Garden and Us

By: Abigail Dodds August 6, 2015August 6, 2015

body of Christ, family, gratitudegardenLeave a Comment

I’ve said before that a garden is a metaphor for most all of life and it seems I’ve only uncovered a minuscule amount of all that could be learned there. Joe Rigney says that Scripture is the lens through which we read the world and it seems to me there’s a plot of content to be unearthed.

We came home to our garden after over a week of neglect and discovered a hot mess of weeds and growth. Thankfully not all weeds, lots of good growth, lots to harvest and enjoy.

Which reminded me of my life, weeds alongside food, sin alongside growth. It’s discouraging the rate of weed growth when ignored, just like it’s discouraging how quickly entangled sin gets in my life when I ignore it. But God is gracious and He produces good things, good growth, even where sin is present. But it can’t go on like that without the weeds or sin taking over. It must be sorted out, pulled, dug up, repented of, killed. Again and again. Every day.

When I look at the pics of our garden at the end of May, I remember just how it felt–like it was all under control. Like there was a place for everything and everything in its place. Like I was waiting for miracles that I could count on. Like, if I did this right, there would be no more stinging nettle.. ever. Like an experiment that was bound to be a wild success. Like I was going to sit on my bench and watch all my garden dreams come true. And if I’m being honest, like the same way I felt when we got married and when we first had kids. It felt like: We Got This.

When I put the bench in the garden I thought it would be there for me to sit on, to rest and soak in all the beauty. Ha! The real reason it’s there, which I didn’t foresee, is for me to have a place to set my tools and to put the baskets of produce waiting to be hauled up and to give Titus a place to stand at while I’m frantically getting as much done as I can. It’s there for the gladiolas to lean against as they shoot up tall. I don’t think I’ve sat on it since the day I put it there.

And that’s a lot like life. Everything is sentimental, with soft edges, on the front end. It’s also a giant underestimation. When our first three children were 3, 1, and newborn, it was easy to be sentimental about them and their future. Even with the crazy little years, there is an element of control that parents have that slips away in larger chunks as they grow. This can be either scary or purposeful– or some of both if you’re like me, but it’s definitely not sentimental.

The wreath that announced “Our Garden” has lost its little sign and drooped, even while the truth of the matter is, this is more Our Garden than ever. More work, more sweat, more investment, but now lacking the sentiment that got us started. Same with raising kids. The vision statement for our family and homeschool, the 1, 5, and 10 year goals–they haven’t been consulted in years. All that intentionality and hopefulness, it was a good thing, still is, it’s just not a theory anymore.

It’s hard to be sentimental about garden growth when your wielding a tiller and sweat is dripping off your nose and down your back and your hands are burning from pulling up the stinging nettle without gloves–again. Now I know–stinging nettle is never gone. It creeps in, it has to be pulled every time.

And I also know that there is no fence that keeps sin away from my kids. Don’t get me wrong, fences are a good thing and faithful parents use them. But they aren’t impenetrable. Sin is within and without. It has to be pulled every time. And as they get older, it takes more and more cooperation and initiative on their part and less sheer will and determination on mine. They must take up this mantle and I must transition from primary enforcer of sin management to primary encourager/instructor of sin management. Not to mention being an encourager of growth and godliness. And even with my oldest only entering 6th grade, already I feel that process of trust and letting go start its slow release.

Sometimes we get fruit we don’t expect, like carrots and tomatoes. I thought for sure we’d have cukes and zukes, but didn’t know if our soil was right for carrots and tomatoes. Lo and behold, I’ve got a bumper crop on my hands. Not only are the weeds more prolific than I imagined, so has been the produce.

When the garden is in its giving season, it’s easy to almost resent all that growth. I don’t know what to do with more beans! I don’t need any more lettuce! I’ve shredded enough zucchini for ridiculous amounts of bread! But that’s just like our God to give us more than we could ask or think.

God’s given us five children and I can’t remember a morning where I’ve awakened and thought, We Got This. I can’t remember a moment where it all felt within my grasp and control. I can’t ever remember thinking in regard to Titus’s special needs, “This is just what I’d planned for!” For me, there’s been no such thing as “planned parenthood.” Because God’s actually exploded my tiny plans and vision for our family. It’s been harder and better than I bargained for.

I thought we were raising a family of easy-going cucumbers, but he’s given me variety and bounty and spice and sweetness and just plain more goodness than I knew was good for me. So rather than resent all that bounty, I must remember that bounty isn’t for hoarding, but sharing–both in our garden and in our home. We’ve been entrusted with Gospel bounty, not to let it go to waste, but to enjoy and share.

Oh, the prayer of my heart is that this would be true of our family–sharing His goodness, unafraid of the toil that makes growth possible, covered in sweat and abounding in every good work, leaving behind sentimentality for the greater blessing of living.

How Does a Christian Stay-Home Mom Respond to Planned Parenthood?

By: Abigail Dodds July 15, 2015July 15, 2015

body of Christ, cultureabortionLeave a Comment

I’ve been thinking a lot about the Planned Parenthood sting video that’s been all over the internet.

It’s awful. And sad and horrifying and gut-turning. And every response I’ve seen has been appropriately revolted. Of course, I have limited circles, so maybe there are people out there (besides PP) saying that it’s just fine and no big deal and actually quite lovely. If there are, they are staying comparatively quiet.

As a stay-home mom, what can I do to play a part in stopping this great evil? It’s easy to feel insignificant. When I first saw the video, I kept thinking–we’ve got to DO something. We’ve got to get this out there; people must know! Surely someone, somewhere, can order this stopped! And then I saw this. And I remembered that we already do know. Everyone knows.

The difference is simply, does the dead baby’s body get dropped, bloody, into a garbage bag or some other container, and taken out to the trash to slowly decompose without a name or a grave or a stuffed animal or a blanket OR does he or she get “harvested”, pulled apart and shipped to whatever lab deals in this kind of deathly desecration.

We moms know what it’s like to see our baby on ultrasound for the first time. We know the utter astonishment and miracle of seeing another person’s heart beating inside your womb. We know the amazement that such a thing is possible and the profound sense of otherness that that little person has from us. They are not us. They are not our body. They are unique and they have a God-given right to a protected residence inside of us for nine months.

These are old arguments. The same simple truths we’ve been saying for years. But part of what we can do is keep saying them. The fight for the unborn is not something we can get on a bandwagon for when popular opinion isn’t too opposed to it. It’s something we say, even when it’s an old story. It’s something we say when the chips of public opinion are down and when they’re not. And if we’re faithful, it’s something we’ve been saying when the babies were taken out to the trash, like they have been for the past decades, and now, when the world wakes up to be astonished that they’re also being taken apart and harvested for the damning benefit of others. Can you really say that one is worse than the other? Are our consciences only pricked when shocked with some new evil?

So, I’ll tell you my resolves in regard to this battle for the dead and dying, and ask for you to consider how God might stir you respond.

-I shared the video of PP’s horror and will continue to expose the evil when given an opportunity. I let myself be re-ignited in my horror and resolve.

-I resolve to be unafraid to say that babies are being murdered by their doctors and their mothers and their fathers, no matter who it offends. And to offer the forgiveness of the cross freely, just as it was offered to me.

-I resolve to continue supporting local crisis pregnancy centers.

-I resolve to be willing to engage in relationships and conversations with people who agree and disagree with me and to ask God to help me be persuasive, loving and fearless.

-I resolve to fear God and remember that, in the end, I will give an account, and that cowards have no business in God’s kingdom.

-I resolve to fight back the darkness by loving the children God has given me and not using them; to remember that although they are not in my womb, they are still dependent in many ways and will require more and more of my sacrifices for their good, not less, as time goes on.

-I resolve, in as much as God gives us this grace, to be a family that points to a deeper reality of family–that is, God’s family. To love each other well and remember that God puts children in families, with a mother and father, because it tells them something about Him. And God makes men and women into moms and dads, because it tells them something about Him. And that when a family lacks a dad or a mom, it is still saying something profound about God–that he cares, that he’s there, and that he can make all grace abound to them because He Himself is willing to be their Father because of his Son’s death on the cross.

-I resolve to meditate and act on the Scriptures and to pray for sleepers, who are more dead than the babies they kill, to awake.

“Let no one deceive you with empty words, for because of these things the wrath of God comes upon the sons of disobedience. Therefore do not become partners with them; for at one time you were darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Walk as children of light (for the fruit of light is found in all that is good and right and true), and try to discern what is pleasing to the Lord. Take no part in the unfruitful works of darkness, but instead expose them. For it is shameful even to speak of the things that they do in secret. But when anything is exposed by the light, it becomes visible, for anything that becomes visible is light. Therefore it says,

“Awake, O sleeper,
and arise from the dead,
and Christ will shine on you.”

Look carefully then how you walk, not as unwise but as wise, making the best use of the time, because the days are evil. Therefore do not be foolish, but understand what the will of the Lord is.” (Ephesians 5:6-17 ESV)

Let’s resolve to push back the darkness, moms, and let’s start at home.

What if This Season Lasts Your Whole Life?

By: Abigail Dodds June 26, 2015June 26, 2015

body of Christ, culture6 Comments

So often moms talk about seasons of life.

We like to remind ourselves frequently about the transient changing nature of our children. If we’re having a hard day with our three year old, we take the wiser, long-view approach and remember that this is a season. It will pass. We will be faithful to parent and shepherd through this hard time, knowing that it won’t always be this way.

And the same is true for our emotional state. How often I remind myself that the irrational thoughts I’m thinking will not last. They will subside and this season of feeling a certain way will wax and eventually wane. It’s hopeful to acknowledge this, to acknowledge the fact that life is not normally static. It’s like the weather–it goes in seasons and changes even daily. Seasons are comforting–there’s a beginning, a middle and an end.

Yet there are some parts of life that aren’t so seasonal. Or they’re unpredictable seasons at best. What do we do when our season may not change or it may be prolonged? And what if that prolonged season is a hard one?

There are personal seasons in our lives that are not so much seasons, but a way of life–maybe a disabled child, a chronic illness, a financial strain. And no matter the length or the depth of difficulty, as Christians we can rest assured that these are not arbitrary. Both the length and the depth are suited exactly to what will bring us to the end, refined and reflective of Christ. And more than that, we can be assured that for the duration, it will be a season where grace is abounding to us in increasing measure in the presence of the Lord.

The same holds true in a broader sense for the hard season Christians find themselves in now with the heart-breaking SCOTUS ruling on so-called same sex marriage. I say “so-called” not to mock it, but to revere the God who made marriage between a man and a woman in the beginning and to whom we owe everything: life and breath and all the rest. I cannot redefine a term that He has made and given clear definition to, that’s why I say “so-called.” I say it because to do otherwise would be unloving and untrue. God does love us all. He loves sinners. He came so that all of us sinners could not only be saved by Him, but die with Him, die to our sin–to ourselves and our own notions of right and wrong–and live in Him and His unchanging goodness and truth.

In this likely prolonged season that our country has entered, where sex and race, are all becoming simply abstract changeable concepts, we can rest assured that although difficult, grace will be given to us for the duration, in increasing measure to those who love him and fear him and keep his commands. He will not leave us alone, he will give all the grace and mercy needed each day for every possible circumstance and for the long haul of this season we now find ourselves in.

“I charge you in the presence of God and of Christ Jesus, who is to judge the living and the dead, and by his appearing and his kingdom: preach the word; be ready in season and out of season; reprove, rebuke, and exhort, with complete patience and teaching. For the time is coming when people will not endure sound teaching, but having itching ears they will accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their own passions, and will turn away from listening to the truth and wander off into myths. As for you, always be sober-minded, endure suffering, do the work of an evangelist, fulfill your ministry.” (2 Timothy 4:1-5 ESV)

“For from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace. For the law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ.” (John 1:16-17 ESV)

The Puff of Plans: My Calendar Lies to Me

By: Abigail Dodds May 5, 2015

body of Christ, everydayLeave a Comment

Today I was reminded how my calendar is actually a mirage. It doesn’t tell the truth about the future. It looks like it’s going to be something in particular, but it won’t be what says. It never is.

I keep checking all the days, looking ahead to next week and next month and envisioning what it will be like and what work needs to happen to get there. It’s not wrong–it’s a good thing to do. If I don’t plan for it, it’s guaranteed not to happen. But if I do plan for it, it’s 50/50 humanly speaking. It may or may not come to fruition.

I don’t have control over throw up and fevers, over seizures or headaches. I can’t prevent a car accident or a traffic jam. I don’t make hail fall from the sky or storms blow shingles off of a roof. I have no say over flat tires or dead car batteries. I can’t ground an airplane or make one lift up off the ground. I actually have no real control over the actions of others whatsoever, no matter how influential I may be.

“Come now, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go into such and such a town and spend a year there and trade and make a profit”—yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes.” (James 4:13-14 ESV)

Everything I do can only be done one way: in faith. Faith that whether the little guy throws up in the car again or not, God’s got a plan. Faith that whether the storm kills all of Spring’s new growth, God’s got a plan. Faith that whether we end up in the hospital or on a road trip, God’s got a plan.

There are people whose plans do seem to all work out. They’ve got a calendar and a schedule and it just works. It’s easy to wish for that. But when I think honestly about the disruption of my plans, I know deep down, it’s grace. My sin is exposed and my reliance on Him increased through thwarted plans and unmet expectations.

His plans aren’t like mine. Everyone of His comes to pass. Mine wither and fade like the grass–which is part of His plan.

So, I’m going to keep making plans. And pray for the faith to watch them go up in smoke.

“This God—his way is perfect;
the word of the LORD proves true;
he is a shield for all those who take refuge in him.
‘For who is God, but the LORD?
And who is a rock, except our God?'” (2 Samuel 22:31-32 ESV)

Jumbled Up Thoughts on the Gift and Grief of Disability

By: Abigail Dodds January 26, 2015January 26, 2015

body of Christ, everyday, sorrowdisability3 Comments

I’ve been wanting to say something about disability and abortion, in light of the anniversary of Roe v. Wade, but haven’t been able to put it together.

I think my pastor summed up the scattered thoughts I’ve had when he said something to the effect of, “When someone discovers their unborn child is disabled, it’s the one time abortion isn’t just a choice, it’s considered by many, the right thing to do.” That’s not a direct quote–it’s probably not even close–but I think it represents the gist.

Disabled kids are just plain de-valued, both in the womb and out of it. Most pro-choicers view abortion as a necessary tragedy. One helpless life is being sacrificed at the hands of a bigger, stronger person. It’s a horror and I think most people’s consciences are at least pricked by it. But many people view the abortion of a disabled child as a kindness to the person they’re killing. They think it’s better for the disabled person to die than live–that their quality of life wouldn’t be worth the effort.

I don’t have anything new or insightful to say about it except, it’s a big fat lie. Disabled people are made in God’s image. It’s not OK to kill disabled people in the womb or any where else. I call them people. Children. Babies. Human Beings. They are NOT vegetables. Not less important than your dog. Or a whale. Or the environment.

The truth is even cognitively impaired, non-responsive people without voluntary movements or the ability to communicate represent to us people of mystery at the very least. No one can pretend to know the extent of their understanding or love or responsiveness. Why? Because they can’t tell us. (Except this man can: Ghost Boy.)

Disabled people are a gift.

Having a son with an abnormal brain has only convinced me further that every human is made in God’s image. We have more to learn from the disabled among us than could be imagined–especially the cognitively disabled.

So, if disabled people are gift (and they are), if their lives represent something incredibly important for us as the body of Christ, why this nagging grief? Why not just celebration? That’s been knocking around in my head for a while.

I think it’s because we want for our children the same joys that we’ve experienced. We want them to know things in the way we know them. We want to protect them from sin and there is deep grief in realizing that sin has had it’s impact from the moment of conception, in cases of congenital disability. It’s sad. It should be sad. It is not easy or simple to show people the simultaneous sadness and celebration–not because it’s too hard to understand, but because it’s hard to live.

Disability brings with it little and big griefs and little and big joys. Even the happiest times can be tinged with some heartache. Our Titus is doing so well the last 3 months. This has been a time of celebration. And I want to declare, “We will now return to our regularly scheduled programming!” I want to do everything to make life as “normal” as possible. At times, it seems like I’m really succeeding. Until I find myself learning how to remove a button from my son’s stomach and replace it by inserting a deflated balloon through the stomach wall and then inflate it to hold the button secure. Something about that just isn’t normal, no matter how much we get used to it.

I sat in Titus’s neurologist’s office last week, eager to be told that my baby boy is somehow better, that his problems are mostly gone, that the MRI’s findings were a bad dream. Instead he carefully reminded me, “He’s doing wonderfully, but you’ve got to remember that he does have something really significant going on in his brain. He’s not out of the woods.” Why does that sting so badly, if disability is a gift? Because it’s a loss, that’s why.

How can something be a loss and a gain? How can disabled people be so essential to our understanding of God and love and each other and also be a reminder of the incredible loss that sin has wrought? This truth has been helping me see it:

“For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us. For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God. For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God. For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now. And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.” (Romans 8:18-25 ESV)

And what if that truth meets with this incredible statement from Joseph after the sin of his brothers sent him on a journey of awful trial after awful trial:

“As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good, to bring it about that many people should be kept alive, as they are today.” (Genesis 50:20 ESV)

Satan desires evil against us and our children in disability, but God is writing the story and He is planning it for glory. Subjected to futility in hope.

I have to remind myself that there is both gift and grief in disability. I keep falling off either side. Different people emphasize one over the other, and different seasons allow one to take center stage, but both are true, whether the gift feels huge and the grief tiny or vice versa. Making space in conversation and life for both will surely bless any family who’s walking through the happy heartbreak of disability.

Some dear friends have lost their baby to Trisomy 13 after nine months in the womb. Their story will tear you up and hold you together all at once. The only hope in life and death is our risen Savior.