Am I really getting that old?! Well, I do turn 48 next month and after 32 years with a spinal cord injury, you might say it is quite an accomplishment living this long. When I first injured my C4/5 & T4 vertebrae in 1994, I remember the doctors then saying, “20 years would be a great accomplishment.” Seriously!

Anyways, my wife and I had a few friends over for coffee last Friday and after about an hour or more, we ended up on the topic of legacy and what we will be remembered for. Or more pointedly, what we accomplish for the glory of God.

Why does it seem like no matter how hard we try, we never seem to do the miraculous—part the Red Sea, bring freedom to an entire nation, or if you are like me in a wheelchair… get up and walk?!

Come to think of it, we hear so many stories in the Bible of named people who bring glory to God. But do you ever wonder how many people there are during those same time periods that do so many incredible things to reveal God’s work… but never get mentioned? I mean, why not?! Don’t they count?!

As we all shared with one another and I listened to our “Why can’t I …” wishes for accomplishment, I started reflecting on some of the thoughts I had been having around Miroslav Volf’s first chapter of ‘The Cost of Ambition’ where he breaks down the ambitions of seeking excellence or seeking superiority.1

Let’s try to reflect on each briefly while trying to understand them.

Volf first puts down a baseline for seeking excellence:

While Volf describes it in the sense of playing, the same desire for excellence can be sought after in other parts of our lives. This is important when you consider those with dis/abilities.

While I have recognized limitations in my daily life, I can learn to navigate those limits with particular life habits that can both challenge them and move around them for other ways of finding fulfillment or a sense of accomplishment and worth.

I am unable to walk. But I have learned how to move my body well. And, over time, I have become quite proficient in the use of my manual wheelchair. What was once perhaps perceived as a limitation to my abilities has become, in many ways, an instrument of my freedom. I use my wheelchair to carry me into my community, along its pathways, through its spaces, and into the lives of my family & friends who make room for me to belong. I learned these abilities and freedoms when I was willing to compare my capabilities with those in my life and daily activities who were both considered dis/abled and abled.3

Moving towards understanding an ambition for superiority, Volf goes on to say:

Ok. So is competition a disservice to human character? Particularly, for disabled persons?

I don’t think competition is necessarily a bad or negative essence of human nature. Strife, divergence, even elements of grief are needed in life to mature, grow, and foster our human character.5 Having both an ambition for excellence & superiority properly balanced can be healthy in personal development. The danger is when either of those ambitions becomes more polarized then the other.

As I learned about my new life in a wheelchair as a incomplete quadriplegic, I experienced the grief of loss to certain abilities. Some of these limitations were absolutely definable and set as a new norm. But some of those losses were more defended generalized assumptions or ableist perceptions—both personally and socially.

For the first few years of being in a wheelchair, I relied on the assistance of a lift or caregiver to transfer in and out of my wheelchair. I had conceited this limitation as the way it was always going to be. It wasn’t until a small few group of therapists and friends saw something more in me and encouraged me to attempt transferring on my own that I began striving to transfer myself independently. In some sense, I was competing against the assumed comparison to the norm of quadriplegia in my community. Overcoming this limitation brought new freedoms I did not know I had and redefined my understanding of who I was.

If we only submit to an ambition of excellence alone, we might fail to challenge the false assumptions of our defended social and personal ableism’s. However, if we only pursue an ambition of superiority and being better then everyone else, we set ourselves up for personal failure and cause great harm to ourselves, to our relationships, and the community around us.

Each of us possesses gifts, talents, and abilities that are uniquely our own. Developing these qualities toward the fullest expression of our personal capabilities, even challenging some of our limitations, can nurture our wellbeing and enrich our participation in community. We should strive for excellence—not by becoming superior to others, but by becoming the best expression of ourselves.

Our personal best is not a measure by which others should be diminished, nor should it be constrained by the expectations others place upon us. True excellence makes room for others to flourish along with us. It invites us to discover, develop, and share the life we have been given without requiring anyone else to be less so that we might be more.

A Last…ing Word

Many times I ask myself what significance I have in the world. I struggle with what good I might have brought into it and if I made a difference. It doesn’t always seem to show. And if I am honest, I tend to wrestle with a sense of personal failure often.

I have two theology degrees that hang on my wall and speak of an education that most of the time I am unsure what their purpose is for. My community is very small and I can’t honestly say that I have any kind of leadership presence within a specifically recognized group or congregation.6 And despite trying to workout 3-4 times a week in my basement gym, I still maintain a gut I am not so proud of. I am married to an amazing and beautiful woman. But we do not have any children and my generation will end with my passing.

I honestly am not sure how to answer this question. But, as I talked with my friends last Friday, I confessed to a desired hope for that legacy.

Whatever happens in my life—healing, meaningful events, pursued ambitions, acts of communal and personal betterment, the wake I leave behind me—I only hope it might bring a reflection to the glory of God and His presence here amongst us in creation.

Legacy is not something I can create or manifest on my own. And it is certainly not something I can see in the here and now present moment. It is something I trust my creator writes in the realms beyond my understanding and the mysteries of my being. I find joy in life in recognizing my worth is in every moment I am present and aware that I have the opportunity to be a blessing.

If nothing else, I hope I at least make God smile.

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Volf, Miroslav; Croasmun, Matthew; McAnnally-Linz, Ryan. Life Worth Living: A Guide to What Matters Most (p. 283). (Function). Kindle Edition.

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As a young boy, I remember a deep fascination with wells. I would stare into there openings, toss stones or the occasional coin into the water or rocky bottoms, and blurt out full sentences while listening to how it might echo as my voice carried down into its depths. Or sometimes, if it were one of those large shallow wishing wells, I would just capture its beautiful architecture while watching the activities of all the people around it. (For a time, I wanted to be an architect.)

Humanity has a rich history and relationship with community wells. Meant not just as an artistic expression of beauty and rooted stability, wells offered a remembrance and source to a shared sustainable life. They were meant to be cherished while also causing us to ask the responsible questions of who is allowed to gather near it, who can draw from it, and whose wisdom and story helps protect and deepen it. Wells didn’t just get drawn from. They also drew people to them.

But wells are not always easy for everyone to find access and acceptance. People who are in the margins of life are often left out of the well space or forgotten about. They can be seen as present, but not really included or involved in the life giving activities of a well embedded life.

For a well centred community culture of belonging to truly flourish, it must find meaning and significance in the balance of practicing diversity, inclusion, and equity together at all times. As a well known phrase Vernā Myers's shared in a speech back in 2015:1

Diversity — Who’s Drawn To The Well?

As a missiologist and house church planter it’s always important to me to know who my neighbours are. Perhaps more in the practicalities of the dis/abled life, neighbours are also who we can rely on when we find ourselves in a pinch.

I don’t know what we would do without our South African friends and neighbours, Luke & Jackie. They have been there at our lowest of lows and highest of highs over the years. Everything from being a listening ear to my wife when I was kept in hospital, running errands for us if we were stuck at home, rescuing us in our van when it got stuck in snow, to hosting and celebrating Easter with our house church community in a campground, and watching movies with us in our home—these are some of the memories of building diversity in our community.

But diversity also means seeing and recognizing the gifts, talents, and presence of the dis/abled and marginalized in our community, as well. Being built fully wheelchair accessible, our home has become a hub for community life in our neighbourhood. Hosting BBQ’s, movie nights, 3 day live streamings of a online conferences to a room of 8-12 people, house concerts, and every prayer gathering and party you can imagine. One of the powers of dis/ability is having an imagination for accessibility to everybody no matter how different or diverse they are in your community.

Ultimately, diversity enlarges a community's capacity for imagination. Without it, a well may still provide water, but it can no longer nourish the fullness of real human life. Communities begin to confuse sameness with unity, overlooking the gifts carried by people whose stories, bodies, and experiences differ from the majority. In doing so, they not only exclude their neighbours—they diminish the life of the whole community.

Inclusion — Who’s Voice Is Heard At The Well?

In its simplest form, inclusion means creating a community where every person is welcomed, valued, and able to participate fully in its shared life. Within the context of dis/ability, inclusion has often been pursued through accessible design, thoughtful policies, and legal protections that ensure dis/abled people can enter spaces once closed to them.

These important steps and advances matter. They open community gates that should never have been locked. Yet inclusion cannot end at the doorways or cutaways in our community paths.

A person may be legally welcomed, physically present, and able to reach the well, while still remaining unseen beside it. Ramps and automatic doors may provide access, but they cannot, on their own, cultivate trust, friendship, or belonging. Access to the well is not the same as being received there. A community becomes truly inclusive only when dis/abled people are not simply accommodated, but recognized as neighbours whose stories, wisdom, leadership, and presence deepen the life of the whole community.

A few weeks ago I was at the ‘Institute on Theology & Disability’s 2026 Conference’. There were so many great conversations, presentations, and people sharing over the three days. But one particular memorable workshop was presented by an African gentleman sharing about how they have attempted to practice inclusion of the dis/abled in the African churches.

With remarkable care and theological depth, they developed a series of denominational policies that articulated what genuine inclusion could look like. I found myself commenting that this level of thoughtfulness is rarely reflected in many North American denominational statements. What struck me most was not simply the commitment to making church buildings accessible, but the vision of empowering, equipping, and cultivating the leadership of dis/abled people within the life of the church.

Yet he also spoke candidly about a painful reality. As he travelled among congregations throughout the countryside, he discovered that many churches had never implemented these policies. Some leaders were unaware they even existed. Others had never been formed by a theology of dis/ability that could sustain them or overcome the ableism already in the community. The denomination had dug a deep well of vision for inclusion, but many local communities had never learned how to draw from it. The policies remained on paper while the practices of belonging failed to take root in the everyday life of the church.

Equity — Who Holds The Rope?

It’s a question of power and how we share it. Who has the power to draw water? And who decides how the well is built, maintained, and shared. And by what authority are they granted this power?

As David Fitch articulated in his Substack post ‘Will We Reckon With Power?’:

In my previous post, I reflected on the truth that every one of us lives with limits. The same is true of power. No single person, group, or perspective possesses everything a community needs to flourish.

Equity is not about giving everyone the same bucket and assuming the task is equal. It begins by recognizing that people encounter different barriers over the course of their life and carry different responsibilities from season to season—dis/abled or not. A flourishing community intentionally shares power, resources, opportunities, and decision-making so that everyone has the ability not only to draw from the well, but also to help tend it.

It’s important to note that for disabled members in communities, this includes decision-making authority, being recognized in the paid leadership, having and building accessible spaces, acknowledging the need for flexible participation, and the expectation that disabled wisdom helps guide the community.2 Our limits or dis/abilities are not signs of weakness; they are invitations to interdependence. Equity is the practice of ensuring that no one person's limits become the reason they are excluded from the shared life of the community.

When the Well Is Out of Balance

These three elements of a culture of Belonging are always engaging with one another, overlapping, and shifting with the tensions of organic community movement. We must always be willing to access how we are balancing these three while not letting one element take priority over the other.

When these three—Diversity, Inclusion, & Equity—stray out of the centralized equilibrium, they can create 3 danger zones:

Inclusion + Equity Without Diversity: The Familiar Well

Inclusion + Diversity Without Equity: The Guarded Well

Equity + Diversity Without Inclusion: The Well w/ Rules For Belonging

Belonging: A Well Deepened by Every Person

Brené Brown writes:

“Spirituality is recognizing and celebrating that we are all inextricably connected to each other by a power greater than all of us, and that our connection to that power and to one another is grounded in love and compassion.”

There is something deeply biblical in her words. At its heart, a culture of belonging is the lived experience of that connection. It is more than being welcomed into a community or invited to participate in it. It is discovering that our lives are intertwined together, that each person’s flourishing—dis/abled or otherwise— is woven into the flourishing of everyone elses.

This is the sacred story God has been telling from the beginning. Through Christ, God is not merely gathering individuals into the same space and calling it church, but reconciling the whole of creation to himself and to one another. Belonging is the fruit of that reconciling work. It is the recognition that we are incomplete apart from one another and the gifts, stories, and presence of our dis/abled and non-dis/abled neighbours.

A flourishing well embodies this vision. Diversity gathers around it. Inclusion ensures every voice is received beside it. Equity places the rope in shared hands. Belonging, however, deepens the well itself and springs up fresh water.

When dis/abled people are welcomed not simply as recipients of care but as leaders, teachers, neighbours, artists, pastors, parents, theologians, and friends, the entire community drinks more deeply from the living water God provides. Their gifts, questions, creativity, resilience, and wisdom do not merely benefit the community—they become part of its shared source of life.

The living water overflows both to and from every person gathered at the well. Each of us arrives thirsty. Each of us leaves refreshed. And each of us bears the shared responsibility of tending the well so that those who come after us will discover that it is deeper because we gathered there together.

Practices for Tending the Well

When you consider how your church or community might foster a greater depth of belonging for those who are dis/abled, consider these practices:

Closing: A Shared Source of Hope

This is the kind of community I have long imagined and hoped for—a well where every person is welcomed, every voice is valued, every gift is needed, and every life helps deepen the shared source from which we all draw.

It has been my experience that the Church still has a lot of work to do before it fully embodies this vision. Too often, our wells have been difficult to reach, carefully guarded, or shaped by assumptions about who truly belongs and in what condition. Yet I always remain hopeful because the story of God has always been one of restoring what has been segregated or marginalized, gathering those who have been scattered or unseen, and inviting every person into the abundance of life together.

If we all—dis/abled and abled—have the courage to keep tending the well—to embrace diversity, practice inclusion, share power through equity, and nurture a culture of belonging—I believe God will continue to fill it with living water. It will become a place where compassion overcomes fear, justice replaces exclusion, and hope is renewed in every relationship.

So let us keep gathering at the well. Let us draw deeply from its waters, learn from one another’s lives, and discover that the well is richer because every person has helped deepen it. For in the kingdom of God, belonging is never a gift offered by just a few able bodied individuals. It is the shared life we create together as we drink from the same living water. A culture of belonging flourishes when diversity gathers at the well, inclusion listens beside it, and equity places the rope in shared hands. Then the water is no longer controlled by a few or offered as a favour. It becomes what it was always meant to be: a shared source of life for the whole community.

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Amy Kenny’s book ‘My Body Is Not A Prayer Request’ taps into this zone. Many dis/abled choose to leave the church or remain unseen from a distance or online so as not to “disrupt” the smooth flowing professional culture of the church community.

Ok. Just some ramblings on something that has been stuck in my head as I see the latest social media fad.

It’s not like I just saw it once. It seems like this latest AI generated photo of a person in a wheelchair who is perfectly balanced on the nose of a skyscraper, as though they climbed to the top themselves, is being shared everywhere. Can we see it as just being an image shared for a few laughs? Maybe.

But, as someone who is in a wheelchair, I find it rather annoying and reflective of a socio-cultural propagandized quip that props up an ableist belief that dis/abled people are existent for the purposes of measuring up to a degree of inspiration that proves “all things are possible”… if we are just willing to work hard enough, spend enough money, and take enough risks to defy all the odds. Essentially, there is no such thing as limitations to human abilities. At least, we would like to believe so.

The thoughts reminded me of a conversation on hope that I had with in this past season’s Well Dweller’s Podcast.1 Paraphrasing it a bit for this context, I asked her:

“What do our limitations destroy for us? And what do they create?”

Building on this, here are a few thoughts to how human limitation can actually create dignity, hope, and character in who we are as dis/abled people.

Limitations Fosters Creativity

Andrew McConnell suggests that creativity struggles to thrive when people have endless opportunities for success. He explains:

“When options are limitless, the decision-making process can be hampered by the paradox of choice. Too many options can lead to decision fatigue, less satisfaction, and a stunted creative process.”

On the other hand, McConnell believes that limitations spark innovation in life skills and personal development:

“Limitations, however, force us to explore depths and angles we wouldn't otherwise consider. They push us to look at resources and solutions right under our noses, to make do and innovate with what we have. It's a mental model that turns scarcity into opportunity.”2

After living with a spinal cord injury for over 30 years, limitations have become a natural part of my identity. They appear at different times and places, often changing in form or intensity. Sometimes, I overcome certain limitations only to encounter new ones.

Ultimately, these limitations create a focus within the boundaries of our defined abilities, encouraging creativity. This creativity can help us test our limits and discover deeper connections to the experiences and relationships we are desiring. When we stop worrying about what we can’t do, we become more innovative about what we can actually achieve. Or perhaps even why we are seeking it in the first place. After all, even our why’s can be falsely motivated by ableist assumptions. Authentic creativity is not making the impossible or unrealistic materialize or become real. As Brené Brown puts it:

Limitations Encourages Prioritization

Speaking of assumptions, while a limitless life offers an amplitude of options for our ambition, the reality is we cannot do all things at once. Responsible prioritization is in a constant entanglement with our moral sense of who we are and who we are becoming.

I absolutely love creative expressionism — writing, podcasting, video production, reading, movies/TV. It doesn’t take long before I get lost in the time and my priorities become out of sync. Dis/abilities also present another level of priorities that most average people do not consider or have — health requirements and care, medical appointments, exercise to maintain daily activities, time constraints because everything takes longer to get done, and relational strain from health care mismanagement.

“I’m so sick and tired of having to workout like an Olympic athlete just to get on and off of the toilet!”

— Dr. Audrey Lim [The Good Doctor]

“Midlife often heightens the feeling that there is not enough time left in life to waste.” Shahram Heshmat writes in his article from Psychology Today. I suppose I am there at 47. But scarcity of time can also be a common theme brought on by physical trauma and chronic health struggles. The dis/abled life seem fleetingly short and questions of what can actually be achieved are strained by the struggle of personal worth and mattering.

With great patience, self-grace, therapy, and a supportive community we can learn to encourage personal and communal practices of prioritization while learning a healthy acceptance of our limitations and the things that really truly matter to us. As Heshmat goes on to point out:

“We overcome the illusion that we can be anything, do anything, and experience everything. We restructure our lives around the needs that are essential. This means that we accept that there will be many things we won’t do in our lives.”4

Limitations Builds Resilience

Over the past 30 years of living in a wheelchair, I have faced countless experiences of trauma and pain, each encounter testing both new and old limitations. It has never been easy. Yet, through realistic prioritization and the lessons of lived experience, I have developed the resilience needed to navigate these shifting challenges with growing confidence.

Craig Fearn captures this mindset well in Unlocking ‘The Potential: The Power Of Realistic Thinking’:

“Realistic thinking helps us tackle today’s complex world head-on. It sharpens our decision-making skills and lets us adapt to change with ease.”5

For years, I have shared with both my disabled and abled friends that change is inevitable. It is not the change itself but rather how we navigate it—how we process new limitations—that weaves resilience into the fabric of who we are.

William Arthur Ward put it succinctly:

By choosing to adjust my sails, I have found renewed strength not in resisting change but in moving with it, turning each limitation into an opportunity for growth.

Limitations Deepens Empathy

“You therefore must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect.” I must admit, these words of Jesus afflicted me greatly in my youth. It wouldn’t be until I was in my later 20’s that I began to understand that Jesus wasn’t expecting perfection in the singular role of personal achievement. Perfection comes through relational compassion, grace, and empathy. As Jesus would later tell his followers, “Apart from me you can do nothing.” Perfection is not self-sufficiency. It is dependence, communion, and love.

Franklin Murphy captures this beautifully:

“Living with imperfection invites us to celebrate our shared humanity rather than compete in an unattainable race toward perfection—a journey where true growth unfolds through acceptance and compassion for ourselves and those around us.”6

Ableism resists this vision because it teaches us to measure human worth by independence, productivity, and exceptional performance. It celebrates disabled people only when they accomplish extraordinary feats that reassure the non-disabled world — such as climbing a skyscraper, becoming an inspirational spectacle, or proving they have somehow overcome dis/ability itself. If we are not extraordinary, we are often rendered invisible. If we are visible, it is too often as the object of pity, inspiration, or comedy.

Our cultural stories reveal the same pattern. Even today, dis/abled characters are remarkably rare in film and television. Earlier I mentioned Dr. Audrey Lim from ‘The Good Doctor’. After surviving a brutal knife attack that severed her spinal cord, she became a paraplegic in a wheelchair. For a brief moment, a popular television series allowed a respected surgeon to continue her life and vocation as a dis/abled woman. Yet in an all to familiarly and painfully turn, only a few months later she underwent a miraculous surgery that restored her to an able-bodied life.7 Once again, dis/ability became something to escape rather than a way of being human.

These stories and the way we treat dis/abled in our community matter, fictional or not, because they shape our imaginations and world view. They quietly reinforce the belief that the best ending is always the disappearance of dis/ability rather than the flourishing of dis/abled lives.

When we are willing to recognize human limitation—including dis/ability—not as a defect belonging to a few but as a shared reality of being human, our capacity for empathy begins to deepen. We stop asking people to become more like us in order to belong. Instead, we discover that community is strengthened precisely because our lives are different. Our shared dignity is not found in our sameness but in our mutual interdependence, where every person’s life becomes a gift to the whole.

A Final Thought…

Recently, my friend wrote an intriguing post called ‘Why AI Can’t Replace Character or Presence’. Being that I started this post rambling on about an AI generated photo of a person in a wheelchair at the top of a skyscraper, I think we should close with a final thought to ponder.

Keith highlights wisely that:

“Greed and power certainly drive parts of the development, but the uptake on a societal scale, I think, comes in large part from a desire to overcome our experienced limitations.”9

Perhaps the question isn’t whether AI can generate impossible images. Of course it can. The deeper question is why those are the stories we are so eager to share and talk about.

Why does an impossible image of a woman in a wheelchair conquering a skyscraper resonate more deeply than the ordinary courage of someone navigating inaccessible streets, raising a family, building friendships, pursuing meaningful work, or simply learning to live well within the realities of dis/ability? Why are we so captivated by fantasies of escaping limitation instead of stories of flourishing within them?

AI is neither inherently good nor inherently evil — something even I struggle with at times. Like every human tool before it, it will amplify the values of those who create and use it. If our imaginations are shaped by ableism, AI will reproduce ableism as we use it. If our imaginations are shaped by dignity, interdependence, and compassion, AI can help tell those stories instead.

Our calling as image bearers of our creator is not to erase human limitation but to honour it as part of what makes us human — dis/abled or not. The dis/abled life does not need to be rewritten into a story of impossible triumphs to possess beauty, dignity, or hope. Those things are already present—in creativity born from constraint, resilience forged through change, communities strengthened by interdependence, and love deepened through shared vulnerability.

Let’s stop filling our feeds with fantasies that teach us to despise limitation. Instead, let’s tell stories that reveal the quiet strength of ordinary lives—stories that remind us that our greatest achievement is not overcoming our humanity, but learning to embrace it together in all its characters and presence!

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9

Leading within Limits

The Allure of Efficiency

I was putting together slides for a workshop on grief and loss I’d been asked to lead at an upcoming conference…

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3 months ago · 2 likes · 4 comments · Keith Dow

Today I was trying something new while out for my morning 4km wheel around the neighbourhood. Offered a month free trial of Audible, I started ’s book ‘Blessed Are The Undone: Testimonies of the Quiet Deconstruction of Faith in Canada’. Honestly, I’m not a big audible book fan. I like sitting with the pages in my hand while slowly soaking in the written content. Just look at my socials and you will find an abundance of authors and quotes to which I sat with and digested. But I digress from why I am sharing this with you.

Reaching chapter 4, I was immediately grabbed by the provocative title: ‘We Were ‘All In’. I know from previous conversations with Angela that she wrote this book, and subsequently this chapter title, over several years ago with the book being published 2 years ago, itself. AND YET… in a few weeks time Terry Sanderson, is preparing to give a denominational address at the Alliance Canada General Assembly he is calling… “All In Alliance”.

I couldn’t help but connect the two phrases while wondering if this was Terry’s attempt to send some kind of metaphorical “shot across the bow” of a social (and perhaps spiritual) shift towards an ecumenical movement? In essence, “return to the status quo of the accepted ‘IN’ parameters. Or find yourself to be sent to the outskirts of the city.” Perhaps we might use another term for such liminal spaces and call it Galgotha. How’s that for metaphorical?!

Ok. So returning to chapter 4 of Angela’s book. She sets the stage beautifully for both sides of the city pendulum giving a description of the Liberal space first saying:

“To deconstruct, you need a building with walls and a roof. Liberal churches seem to have a few walls, blurred boundaries, and loose connections. Some conservative churches built their walls too high and the doors too small. What is endearing and warm — and problematic and painful — is that they are tight communities where the social fabric is thick and everyone knows everyone else. These churches turn a temporary canoe camp made into a more permanent compound with a fence.”

Having been part of a House Church movement for many years, I can identify with some of the strengths and weaknesses she articulates here. It was Richard Beck (who by the way will be my next guest on the Well Dwellers Podcast 😉) who challenged me several years ago by asking about heresy in the house church movement that left me pondering just how loosely we hold onto the gospel.

But that does not loose sight of the equally polarizing other end of the pendulum as Angela depicts the hyper Conservative vision:

“The Faith prediction of some of the undone did not think too much about environmental issues, the plate and promise of the indigenous people of Canada, or the long, checkered history of the Christian Church. Their tradition often held to a strict nuclear family ethic that champion the male/female dyad and shunned the dominant cultures swift endorsement of same-sex marriage. While none were overly racist, resisting systemic racism was not an ethical priority. Life was about church, holiness, family, and being good productive Canadian citizens. It was focussed on the Bible as the truth in text. A conservative Faith framed the family, learning, work — everything. They were ‘all in.’”

Here is where the problem lies… If all we are about is being “All In” to the ideological centres of our theological campus, we will never experience the blessings of the Spirit calling US to stretch beyond our own blindedness. As chapter 4 concludes:

“Change cannot be avoided. And alive, growing, culturally engaged. Faith cannot remain static, or it will be stunted in its constant quest for self preservation. It will suffer the pains that come with denying and avoid avoiding the issues that inevitably arise in any community. Even orthodoxy needs fresh restating and contextualizing to the cultural moment. It is our firm conviction that some sort of deconstruction is normal for growth — whether it takes the shape of falling away, repentance, or the quiet reconstruction that we call sanctification.”

Lets be real here, the work of sanctification is not meant to be easy. Its not meant to be comfortable and reconciled with a confidence of perfectionism. Its uneasy, grinding, fearfully, and wonderfully worked out through messiness and the promise of returning to new quests of metanoia and asking what transformation are we to consider next in looking like for Christlikeness?

The first Council of the Christian Church seemed to rely on the understanding that for guidance they are not looking towards Peter’s “All In” mandates. To become the community that the triune God was truly calling them to be, it had to “seem good to US… and the Holy Spirit”.

I’m no biblical scholar or expert theologian, but it seemed to me that Jesus did not consider “All In” to be the measure to live for, either”. It seems to me he was more moved by a Spirit to embody the life of being “All Out”! Ya, I think I like that more for an embodying call.

I AM ALL OUT FOR JESUS!!

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It is hard for me to know where to start. Everywhere I seem to look, it seems like so many battle lines of conflict are being drawn. As someone who has existed as a sort of nomad, I found a bit of comfort hiding in my prophetic cave in the wilderness while trying to pretend the earthquake that was happening under me and the firestorm out side the cavernous opening had little affect or impact on me. Try as I might, it seems more and more difficult to remain hidden in the shadows.

It wasn’t that I am without my own theological principles. More so, it was that my principles were able to be held in value without having to defend or enter the fray of the polarizing elements of world opinion. I am/was a nobody. And in some ways, I did not mind being so invisible.

Years ago I was confronted after presenting a proposal for a community ministry movement largely shaped by my missional theological values. It was shot down while questioning the potential “heresies” of such activities. I still remember sitting in a room where a denominational member of higher leadership turned to my pastor and said, “Yeah, we still are not sure what we are to do with these types of people.” It was my first taste of being accused directly of heretical deconstructional belief. Told I was seen as a “outside identity”, I moved on to growing a house church movement on my own. Ironically, as I told my pastor it would happen, Missional theology principles would be embraced by the denomination a few years later as the “next greatest thing”. By this time, I had long left the four walls of institutionalism. I don’t think I have signed a Doctrine of Membership Belief since.

Over the last few years, it seems this requirement of doctrinal submission or excommunication is rising once more. Academic theological exploration of doctrinal values are being challenged and repressed. Denominational institutions are siloing into defensive and exclusive positions. It is becoming more and more uncomfortable and discouraged to sit at the same communal table with those you may theologically be in difference of. Iron no longer sharpens iron. And wisdom is diluted by being comfortably numb as apposed to opening oneself to the punning of the Spirit and the submission to the unrecognized gardener. (John 20:14-16)

I am struggling heavily with the question:

The thought drew me back to the story of a woman (and man, for that matter) who were caught in adultery. The question of “Sin’s” involved I truly believe are probably far more complex then just the woman’s guilt or not. That is perhaps something to explore another time. Still, she was brought before Jesus with the question of, “What are we to do?”

Bending over, Jesus began to draw lines in the sand and told the religious leaders, “Let those who are without sin cast the first stone.” It wasn’t long before the accusers began to dissipate and disappear.

The truth is my theological positions in these arguments today are ones that draw me to the work and call of my heavenly Father. The intersections of such work keep me rooted in a firmament that provides both affirmation and fertilization that spurs growth and soulful challenge amidst doctrinal and principle differences. I do not agree with everything my marginalized relational connections believe. But nor do I feel the disempowerment of those differences uprooting the very powerful proximity we all share in with our creator. It is not my responsibility or place of authority to draw those lines in the sand. That is the place and authority for my Lord and Saviour’s hands.

Recently I came across the reference to Scot McKnight’s latest publication ‘Traumatized Church’. He writes with the effort in pairing theological insights with counseling expertise to guide readers through the four R's of trauma care: Realize, Recognize, Respond, and Resist.

As the Disability movement in the living church looks towards the future of its initiatives both in identity and in intersectionality, I find myself wondering how these four R’s might shape the disability theology and spirituality of its members. If nothing else, those of us in the disabled life should be masters of navigating trauma. Perhaps the future of the greater Church might depend on us for this!

Not too many people know this about me, but prior to my spinal cord injury, I nearly became a lifeguard and spent a lot of time swimming in the Calgary public pools. However, that was over 30+ years ago and to be honest, I’ve never had the courage to get in a pool or visit one since!

There really are not very many accessible pools in the city, either. But that is truthfully just an excuse. Those of us in the dis/abled crowd know where the cool places to take a dip are; and the venturesome one’s of us have dove right in. Of course, those pools are open for any able person to join in the fun, too. Which opens the door to reflecting on when Jesus and his friends visited a similar community pool.

Yes, it might be a funny thing to say but, the dis/abled crowd in Jesus’s time had a similar place to hangout called the pool of Bethesda. Like today, “a great number of disabled people used to lie there.” (vs. 3) Intriguingly, you must note the generalization here of the labeled “disabled” in Jesus’s story; they are glazed over as a collective and overlooked as a crowd despite John articulating their unique characteristics – the blind, the lame, and the paralyzed. Even in saying this, most of us read these qualities as a loss or negative to their character recognition as appose to their gifting and empowerment. If this seems like a stretch, think of a similar story a few chapters later when Jesus says a blind man was born blind not because of a fault, but “so God’s glory might be seen in him.” (John 9:3)

In the midst of this story and crowd, we have to ask ourselves, “What were these people really looking for in the traditions of this pool of healing and God’s work?’ And “Why did they feel so invisible to the greater community around them?” For Jesus, this moment at the pool was not merely a place to perform a miracle. It was a moment for Jesus to model seeing the dis/abled while confronting cultural invisibility, redefine personal wellness, and to unveil God’s work that continues through us even today.

I. Jesus Saw the Man — Removing Invisibility with the Sight of Incredibility

“Jesus saw him there…” (vs. 6) We’re not really sure why Jesus focused in on this particular man. But he was drawn to him out of some desire for personal connection. I’d like to think his motive was not one of despair or pity, but rather a lighthearted passion to truly draw closer and find relationship with the giftings this man would reveal.

More often than not, dis/abled today are seen as a marginal group, small in number. We don’t realize that in Alberta, 27% of our population are considered dis/abled. That is nearly 1 in 3 of us! Look around our church community. Do you see the dis/abled around our activities? Does it reflect this kind of representation or presence? Why or Why not?

For those of us that are seen and recognized, it is more often because of particular visible labels or structures – wheelchairs, walkers, or characteristics that segregate us to the “disabled” sections and ministries of the church. We are seen and known not as persons, but as conditions and for our locations or needs (disabled… parking, seats, events, caregiving). Our gifts are reduced to the disabled pools of society while otherwise invisible to the greater ethos and involvement with the Christian community.

As Jesus entered these pool areas, he saw and brought a restoration of personhood to the dis/abled people first before any understanding of healing. He did not ask what he could do. He asked what he could learn. He removed their invisibility and gave sight to their incredibility.

“See, know, discern, unveil… Sight precedes morality.” Richard Beck articulates. “For how can you take proper action in the world if you are blind, lost, deluded, ignorant, or confused? As Jesus said, the blind lead the blind, and all fall into the pit. Vision is required for navigation.”^[1]

II. A New Meaning of Wellness — Empowerment, Not Erasure

“Do you want to be made well?” (v. 6) The question seems to come in simple form. But the complexity is quickly revealed with the dis/abled man’s response – a response that also shows the deeper desire he was looking for.

“I have no one…” A reply that reveals his deep sense of community isolation, exclusion, and lack of access. These feelings had been pressed into him for so long without wanting to break the religious traditional rules and boundaries, nor the social order of acceptability, that he simply laid there waiting for 37 years!

I find it intriguing that Jesus did not name healing as the man’s desire. But rather he used the words “made well”, as in well-being and the state of comfort, joy, and wholeness. Jesus redefined the dis/abled man’s restoration not as the religious or social order did – the need for a cure so that he might look and act like everyone else. He removed the shame of his cultures cure narrative and empowered the personal agency or identity in this man, so that internal self-dignity was established, a participation in life involvement was in his own rising, responsibility was given to his own recognized calling and passions, and a voice of testimony to reflecting the work and presence of God in his life was revealed as he did not throw away the mat, but picked it up and carried it with him. Jesus reveals wellness as restored belonging within God’s renewing work—not mere physical normalization to the community’s expectations or measures.

As someone who lives his life in a wheelchair, I cannot help but feel the incredible weight that must have been lifted from this man’s soul after 37 years. I do not need to feel shame nor responsibility for the ostracization of the ways my wheelchair has shaped my life. I carry it with me as evidence to my testimony and empowerment while the responsibility and work of recognition to my well-being falls not to myself, but to the community and church around me.

What are the experiences and relationships that bring these moments of well-being to you?

How might Jesus and his community empower such wellness?

Can we recognize these as the very works and miracles of God around us?

III. The Work Is Still Ongoing

As we read the story of the man at the pool of Bethesda, it is important for us to acknowledge the living Word being spoken. This is not a one-off miracle that has been performed to establish Jesus’s authority in that moment alone. It is a revelation of divine rhythm that carries on in his calling of each one of us today.

Modeling the Way for us, Jesus shares with the religious leaders around him, “My Father is still working, and I also am working.” (vs. 17) The actions and social justice work of God continues throughout history as we seek to liberate and raise the well-being of the dis/abled and excluded within our neighbourhoods and world. “For we are God’s servants,” as Paul tells us. “…working together; you are God’s field, God’s building.” (1 Cor. 3:9)

We are to ask:

Who lies waiting in our sanctuaries and gathering spaces?

Who waits for access to events, retreats, and for community activities?

Who has been told to wait for a miracle while we refuse to move or change because it is easier to just continue with the normal activities?

The “Dis/abled God” Is Still Enabling His Church To Be Miraculous

The miracle at Bethesda did not begin with a man that was walking. It began with him being seen.

Before he stood, before he carried his mat through the streets, Jesus restored something even deeper than his muscle strength—he restored his dignity. In a world that had learned to step around him and not see him, Christ stopped. In a culture that had categorized him, Christ conversed. In a system and ideology that kept him waiting, Christ worked.

Nancy Eiesland reminds us that in the resurrected Jesus we meet “the dis/abled God”, a Saviour who still bears wounds. The scars and wounds were not erased in his resurrection; they were revealed as part of his glory. And it changes everything. It tells us that God’s work is not about erasing or curing dis/abled bodies or displaced lives, but about unveiling their belovedness, well-being, and belonging within the kingdom and within this world.

“My Father is still working,” Jesus says.

The question is whether we are.

Will we become a community where no one whispers, “I have no one”?

Will we dismantle the pools of exclusion we have grown comfortable maintaining?

Will we see dis/ability not as a detriment or need, but as a gift, a blessing to our community and to our lives?

Because the work that began at Bethesda continues wherever Christ’s body refuses invisibility and instead chooses the sacred, disruptive act of sight.

[1] https://substack.com/home/post/p-187960079

For most of my life I have dreamed of publishing a book. Ideas come and sometimes I even start to formulate them into something. But it always seems to fade into the backdrop of life. Wind up on my blog. Or, life itself gets in the way. The internal struggles:

• This is good and I can’t wait! — Shortly afterwards, I’ll publish it online somewhere.

• This sounds like a million other books. Who’s going to really be interested in mine?

• This is too BIG! I’ll be writing another “War & Peace” academic monstrosity.

• Health is struggling from to much time in front of the screen. I need to workout, eat better, and move more. I don’t want to loose my transfer independence!

• Will this work actually be meaningful a valued by others? I don’t want to put in all this effort only to have stacks of copies in my storage room to give away to others only to full shelf space. (Sorry. Being brutally honest.)

Are they valid? Honestly, I don’t know. But… the dream still comes up from time to time. Nudges from the Spirit? Maybe.

Anyways, New Leaf Network recently opened an invitation to join a writers circle. Perhaps you are asking, what is that?! In short… a group of writers who meet to share their work, provide constructive feedback, and offer mutual support in a safe and encouraging environment. In this case, we are connecting across country through Zoom.

It is my first time entering these kind of relationships and while I keep hopeful in the dream of producing something from the accountability & support, I also feel a bit intimidated. They all seem so accomplished, qualified… and way smarter then me! Still, I feel so incredibly honoured to be part of the fellowship and co-bearer to keeping the “flame” burning among us!

What do I expect from such a camaraderie in the pursuit of publication?

Perhaps first, a soundboard to ideas, thoughts, and writing samples. With the greater knowledge of the others in my circle, I would greatly appreciate there input to the quality of my efforts in my writing style and pieces. Is this worth writing? Is it engaging? Or what more or less does it need to communicate the message? At the same time, perhaps resources could be exchanged to help in the researching of my written project. Or aids to help with writing.

Second, while I don’t want a beat down for missing a deadline, I deeply need to find a sense of accountability and perhaps schedule for my writing goals. I can write. But without a focused date of expected completion from fellow sojourning friends in the same processes, it is too easy for me to put off for those other internal reasonings. It might be crap that I turn in. But it keeps me accountable to improvement and redrafting. I should also mention; this is a deadline for written pieces. I don’t think I am ready for a finished publication draft just yet.

Perhaps also connected to this accountability piece is to be a kind of advisory board to other projects. It is easy, really easy for me to fall in love with other projects in the disabled advocacy roll and end up taking on to much. It quickly leads to burnout. An encouraging advisor to ask if new projects are a worthy fitting amidst my other pursuits could be helpful.

Thirdly, to be sparks & embers that keep our collective flames ablaze with creativity, passion,. skills, and drive to accomplish the goal — PUBLICATION!! Let’s keep this fun! How do we do that? Honestly, I have no idea. Maybe we could have a guest in our meetings every so often to talk to us about certain subjects related to our writings. Or someone who could improve our writing abilities. Ideas?

Fourthly, this might be the hardest considering my mobility. Let’s keep it real as much as possible. We are spread out across the country. But lets try not to get lost in the matrix of online superficial-ism. If there is opportunity to meet face to face, let’s make it happen. Writer retreat workshops? Maybe those, too. If we get good at this… what if we planned, organized and hosted a workshop for the other New Leaf Circles?! Maybe I’m getting ahead and thinking too creatively.

Final Words…

This past weekend Kyle Trigg asked in my home church, what would be the greatest final words you ever spoke? Ok, I’m probably paraphrasing a bit from where my imagination went during his message. But the clear words that spoke in my head came from the lips of Jesus — “It is Finished!”

To be clear, I don’t expect for us to have an expected finish line drawn out with date, time, and schedule. I hope for an epic adventurous quest for completion together! A journey that brings new encounters and fellowships along the way. Overcomes tumultuous mountains and powerless pitfalls falls through the camaraderie of friendship & support. And yes, finally sees & shares the exciting conclusions of all of us publishing something completely unexpected from each of us, with the blessings of God’s Holy Spirit.

Probably one of the most difficult and taboo subjects to talk about with family & friends — Death & Dying. Particularly, our human obsession to control its outcomes and perceptions of dignity. Over the last few decades, Canada has tried to approach these issues with the legalization of assisted suicide. A policy documented as MAiD - Medical Assistance in Dying.

Recently, my friend and I engaged in a conversation around the issue prompting a well written post he shared a few days ago he called ‘Can It Be Ethical?’ I must admit to you that my strengths do not lie in the field of historical articulation or outlining the legal descriptions of euthanasia policy. But he shares a great detail in the beginning of his post opening that story for us to hear in a different light and the descriptive Tracks that MAiD is outlined in.

Moving from this history, Ty reveals an underlying prophetic struggle that we as human beings, and Canadians particularly, are wrestling with when searching for moral and ethical responses to policies in euthanasia; one which after many years of wrestling with the issues myself, I have come to agree with. MAiD and the policies around assisted suicide are not an evil in themselves, but a present sign of the greater underlying losses of human dignity and socially entwined responsibilities to care for our neighbour as ourselves. Particularly, those who are disabled and in the marginal communities of our society. As Ty shares in his post:

There is challenges when we enter into control over one’s own end. There are belief systems, theologies, philosophies, long treatises and examples on suffering. There is reams of writing on when one chooses to end their own life around selfishness, around those left behind, around things [that] can [or could] change, the list can go on and on… What I propose, is how we limit the collateral and ancillary reasons one would seek out this medical procedure apart from condition. It creates a more ethical usage.1

In essence, we cannot wrestle with the inadequacies of constructing the perfect legal enactment or wrongs of MAiD’s policies by themselves or oppose them as the pivotal force behind injustice. We must be willing to address the deeper social injustices and evil’s that have led to the conditions in which marginalized individuals feel they have no other recourse.

Articulating some of those issues, Ty speaks towards the following social wrongs which have led Canada to this state:

As our world is more migratory, we have lost the ideal that everyone has loved ones in the same community, city/county, province or even country. Autonomy, and one’s individual rights, have become polarized in our identity and sense of well being. In some ways, we have been isolated to our own need of independence for so long by a multitude of reasons — culture, pandemic isolation, misinformation, and a systemic history of conforming ableism. To borrow the words from William Earnest Henley2, we have adopted a hyper-idealism that says:

It matters not how strait the gate,
      How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
      I am the captain of my soul.

Other reasons one opts for MAiD are the feelings of being a burden, experiencing the loss of dignity, and living in poverty. How might we address these three streams of struggling in one’s well being?

Our understanding of personal limits and capabilities are not meant to be held to the false mythology & ideology of anything is possible if you just work hard enough for it — something which we as North Americans seem to struggle to live up to & believe about ourselves unrealistically. We are finite and created to find our fence lines strengthened not by expanding our own personal territory’s of greatness, and control over our own autonomy and authority. But by building inter-relational communities of vulnerable care and interdependence. What we perceive and falsely project as being burdensome should rather be a revealing of God’s glory in communally shared endurance and strength.3

Those in our society with disabilities also are often left behind in poverty with lack of social care and income. Alberta’s government alone has claimed a $8.3 Billion surplus in savings over the 2024/25 year.4 And yet it is the only Canadian province to claw back its AISH5 monthly payments from disabled recipients, effectively removing the CDB6 federal supports by 100% which was meant to assist those living below the poverty line.7 While having the means and federal supports to offer a universal or guaranteed income to those who are struggling in disability, the Alberta government chooses not to act or reverse its decision while also boasting of the possibilities in prosperous living. One has to ask, who exactly is prospering?! This should outrage our societies moral compass, and yet action towards change has yet to happen.

Change is then stifled by removing or muting the voices of advocacy by making their public and institutional presence to be considered irrelevant to the public eye. In an article written by Zachary Weeks called ‘Why Alberta’s Accessibility Report Was Hidden — And What’s Inside’, it is revealed that Alberta is one of two Canadian Provence’s that has no Disability Minister representative in the provincial legislature. Nor is there a provincial Disability Act in place to advocate for disability rights in Alberta. “It’s curious, isn’t it?” Zachary asks, “A government-commissioned accessibility report, repeatedly publicly referenced in the legislature, somehow never found its way into the hands of the very community it was written for — until someone filed a FOIP request. If transparency is a value, it shouldn’t require a legal form.” Perhaps it is a question all Albertans should be asking of their government representatives considering the disability community comprises of 27% of our population.8

The issues of social justice, accessibility, public health care and the decay of disability health needs in the health institutions is a continuing list of justice work that would extend long into the future of needed social reform impacting the dignity of disabled rights and the greater public. All of which influences marginal communities in understanding the significance of their lives and sense of belonging in society. Addressing all of these branches in which these prophetic works are revealed in our social and institutional systems would be exhaustive and resemble a Hydra of sorts in consequential dynamics.

But before moving into a question of how we might respond to these social justice issues and how it relates to an ethical or moral response to MAiD, I would like to add one more issue to our list of underlying causes or challenges that has not yet been brought up.

Despite there being a great deal of theological and communal representation and exploration into disability, there continues to be a chasm or significant divide between the nature and work of God in the world and the engagement and discipling pursuits of the Christian Church itself.9 While a large part of Canada’s demographics are in relationship to and with disability, the Canadian Church has very little to no representation in community leadership, interest in developing communal supports or leadership representation, or seemingly having any interest in the surrounding disability community itself. At most, the only interest has come at a compliance to legal building code or for some communities, a willingness to seek building structural accessibilities into the church building itself; often without consultation to local representatives.

These realities present two unavoidable consequences. The first is within the disabled community itself. Internally (both personally & in the greater church), the deeper question of understanding where disability comes from, its identity, and the significant role they have in embodying the gospel here and now today is lost without leadership representation or community discipleship. The second consequence is made visible through the cultural ableism that washes over into the church social ecosystem; first through the leaderships lack of theological discipleship, and then left to be blindly unchecked within the congregation as a whole. By the inaction of the church and its leadership, it looses the vision to be actively engaging injustice in its own local community and leaves the spiritual formation of heresies that form harmful cultural beliefs such as, “Wouldn’t it be better for them to be with Jesus.”

A few months ago, I took part in an online four part class looking at ‘Disability & the Church’.10 Greg Harris shared a prophetic vision into 5 stages in which churches could experience movement towards disability becoming a mutualistic discipleship within local community’s.11 As a means to reveal the gap between churches and the disabled community today, Greg asked a pointed question while showing the image below.12 As you pause to view it now, how might you answer this same question… Where is your church, leadership, or organization in the continuum of 5 stages for mutualistic ministries among persons of all dis/abilities?

The underlying issues and causes that lead to MAiD decisions can easily become overwhelming, as I am sure you may be experiencing here. And yet many disabled persons today cannot escape these issues or ignore the daily involvement they have with them on a constant basis. Compounded with the other issues of their disability itself, makes decision making and life management a constant stress and exhausting effort.

Perhaps we can now ask the significant question: How can we respond to these social injustices and make a moral and ethical change in the way MAiD decisions are made?

Recently I listened to a podcast episode on ‘No Small Endeavour: Exploring What It Means To Live A Good Life’ where Lee C. Camp spoke with Dan Heath about how to change what is not working.13 Throughout and over their conversation, Dan made a rather bold and pointed recognition to the fact that information alone is insufficient to spark change in any meaningful way.

Unfortunately, over the last several decades in the euthanasia and assisted suicide conversation, academia and the Church has seemingly focused their approach through theological and social debates and discourses around educational knowledge and information that directly addresses the issues of policies, legalities, and principles related to MAiD laws themselves. In doing so it neglects the prophetic work of flesh, sweat, and blood that is desperately needed to make any changes to the underlying issues leading to MAiD decisions.

Real change is sparked by emotion and sustained by motivation. We cannot let our struggles with institutional princes and principalities be simply head knowledge and education alone. We must connect deeper to our hearts and souls while doing the social work needed in the community to bring lasting and meaningful change to the underlying issues giving foundation to MAiD values and principles.

It is not individuals work alone that is needed either. We need independent communities, churches, and public institutions to rise up and make social activism a part of their worship and communal practices. We need people from corporate, small business, non-profits, volunteers and clergy members to educate and been publicly seen leading the frontlines of political and social rallies.

We need people who have an inside into government at the caucus level who can push buttons and advocate for institutional legal change while also protecting and safeguarding the legal rights and freedoms of disabled persons.

Without these greater actions happening in our communities, what remains is a continued fallacy and ignorance to think that we can inform people to change. Or worse, inform ourselves into change.

This can all seem rather overwhelming when looking at it from the macro level. So let me try to offer some simple steps of how we can take some actions ourselves in meaningful ways.

Look around in the places of complex systems around us were a little bit of investment or effort yields a disproportionate return. Where might you make some small changes for disabled persons in your place of work? In your neighbourhood? In your church? Or even, in your home? Perhaps, you might even invite a few others to join you in making these changes. There is a story in the gospels where the friends of a paralytic actually went as far as to rip the roof off of a local home in order that their friend could be included and belong!

Take the resources that we do have, re-stack those resources to have an impact upon those leverage places. Find out if there are grants available and utilize them for the changes you are trying to make. Fund raise and host community events to build towards fulfilling the needs many disabled in your neighbourhoods are experiencing.

Get out of the way! Sort out any ways “I” may be the problem, “I” may be inhibiting progress. Then, look for practical ways “I” can contribute to progress. Don’t just learn about disability, the social issues and theological understandings. Tell others, share about the local injustices that are happening in your social media, and join in local disabled initiatives. Perhaps most of all, get to know the disabled persons in your neighbourhood — listen to their story, discover the their super power in changing your life, see them and let them see you while getting to know that you care! Host disabled events in you church, community parks, and social centres while creating micro cocoons of inclusive transformation for beauty. These are the ways disabled persons can be seen and recognized as incredible and indispensable members to our neighbourhoods!

We must get close to the frontlines of the work being done around us. Simply giving money and applauding others efforts cannot really sustain lasting change. We must put ourselves in the visible range of others as involved in disability rights and freedoms. Volunteer in disabled organizations. Join social advocacy groups and be available for their activities and needs. Personally write your MLA and politicians about disability rights and the current issues.

Over the last few weeks I have been reading Sara Hagerty’s book ‘The Gift of Limitations: Finding Beauty in Your Boundaries’. Amidst sharing some of her own powerful story, she manages to reveal some incredible truths about our own limitations; even our disabilities. “We may not be able to choose our stories,” she writes, “but that does not mean we live without choices.”14

MAiD is a result of just one way of telling our story. But as I, and as we all, wrestle to understand its meaning and underlying reasons, we always have a choice to make. Waiting to long to make those choices or believing we have no choice is an illusion and lie of demonic proportions that affects not only our own rights and freedoms, but the rights and freedoms of others — particularly the marginalized and excluded. Nor can we hold judgement over those who feel they are unable to escape these underlying injustices that lead to such decisions of life and death.

It is true — We cannot do it all. But we can do it together! So I leave you with one last question to wrestle with… What choices will you make?

“Very truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these.”

The Holy Bible: New Revised Standard Version (Jn 14:12). (1989). Thomas Nelson Publishers.

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I’ve been part of the missional conversation for the last 2 decades here in western Canada while leading a house church community and being part of a leadership team that trained and supported over 25 house churches across Canada. There have been so many treasured experiences both in learning and celebrating the amazing things God is doing in our communities!

Those communities, or tribes as I called them, still continue to missionally live the life of Jesus in their neighbourhoods and with their neighbours. But over the last four or so years, God has been pulling me in a different direction. Partly due to health and partly out of a desire to see the missional voice reach the disabled community in a more inclusive recognized way. Perhaps more then anything, because my people need a gospel which recognizes the glory of God being revealed through our shared cruciform life, and the power that transcends worldly ableist falsehoods and assumptions.

Our house is still in turmoil as we prepare yet again for another round of unplanned renovations. To be honest, I’m not sure I’ll be ready to start recording in The Well’s studio by September. But, I’ve still been day dreaming of next seasons ‘Well Dwellers Podcast’ and who I’d like to have on the show as guests. One particular theme I know I want to explore among others is the relationship between Missionality & Disability Theology.

After 20 years, I’ve began to notice a repetitive theme amidst missional exploration and I am wondering if we need to take the conversation deeper into more specialized focuses; particularly the disability community and our role in embodying the gospel. I’m sure the list may grow, and maybe you might leave other leads in the comments. But a few guests I’d love to have in The Well with me are:

My good friend — This Sunday he is actually preaching at Centennial Presbyterian Church here in Calgary on Missionality & the Disabled Community. He and his son Lee have a powerful story in inclusive community and belonging. You might recognize him as a past guest on the show as we both explored ‘Star Trek & Disabilities’ last season. We had such a blast! And as we are already in discussion for our next episode together, we are going to keep the fun going with a conversation around ‘APEST & the Star Wars Universe’!1

My long time friend & world traveler, — It might be just a dream, but I’d flip my wheelchair with me in it if I could have Alan on the show as he really launched me into the missional universe. Al and I go way back to 2007 when I met him in a conference he was co-leading with Alan Roxbrough in Vancouver BC. Reading 'The Forgotten Ways’ and inspired to start a house church after returning to Calgary, Al really molded me into the missional thinker I am today.

Recently he’s shared some brilliant posts here on Substack including ‘The Elect & The Holy Displacement’ as well as ‘Mission Is Identity: Toward An Apostolic Spirituality Rooted In Christ’s Own Becoming’. I’d love the chance to go deeper into his thoughts in these posts and how they translate into the cruciform life and discipleship of disabled people.

My friend and Prof. Dr. — In 2012, Forge Canada2 opened up an opportunity for me to pursue a Masters Degree at Rochester University. Mark was leading a program called the MRE3 and focusing on Missional Leadership. I had held of on Masters studies for several years as there was not really a missional program that existed during that time until Mark paved the way with the accessibility and innovation of enabling me to attend online. In the last several months, Mark has launched a new work in ‘The 1528 Collective’.4

Perhaps some of the most impacting moments in my journey with the MRE is the conversation and practices around hospitality. I would love the opportunity to sit with Mark and talk about how hospitality finds inclusivity with the disabled community and how these encounters reveal greater gospel movements for disabled people. I’m sure questions of discernment and church practices would most likely creep into our dialogue, too.

My imagination is still rolling around in these streams of thought while looking towards the next season of The Well Dwellers Podcast. And perhaps you have a few other questions, thoughts, and/or ideas I could pursue, as well, that focuses deeper into missionality & disability. But, until my house manages to push through the chaos of deconstruction and renovations, we will have to just continue to day dream together.

It has seemed like forever since I have been able to sit in front of my keyboard and type a few words. Not because I haven’t wanted to. But, life just seems to keep getting in the way the last few months.

Borrowing the words from Christa Hesselink on her post ‘You Can’t Control The Ocean’:

Mind racing - unable to slow down.

Heart longing - overwhelmed.

Body tired - but feeling overstimulated at the same time.

Have you ever noticed that we have a way of compounding the challenge by trying to control it? We spend our energy planning and arranging every detail to death, or we work overtime to bury, avoid, or distract. We dig in and overcompensate in attempts to manage all the discomfort and uncertainty.

As if we could control the ocean. It makes sense, but really it’s just plain old resistance.

Perhaps it is my greatest weakness; the internal ableism that causes my self-judgement and defeat of any creative confidence. As time slips away, I start the game of comparison and withdraw into a frustration of inadequacy and feelings of personal failure.

You’re right, Christa! I can’t fight the ocean tides! Truth is, you can’t ride the surf if you are constantly trying to flatten the ocean waves. The only way through it, is to go with it.

So here I am recognizing the call of life to enter a season of rest, a time for Sabbath, and resetting the soul for the next season of creativity.

First, I want to say this past season in The Well has been both explosive and exciting for me. I have had so many incredible growth moments learning from great friends and leaders in conversations around disabilities, dignity, and hope. From fellow writers here on Substack, guests I’ve had on the podcast, getting to plan and be a part of incredible conferences here at home and online, as well as meeting with friends for coffee… their guidance, wisdom, and sharing of faith has been truly immeasurable! “Thank you” are words that are not enough to express my gratitude!

Looking back, I suppose there is no denying just how much we have done together and how far we have truly come.

But, as I break for the summer, I don’t want you thinking I’m disappearing all together. Here are some of the activities I am hoping to work on through my rest in the coming months…

Continuing a social media conversation… I will still keep posting on my social feeds in FaceBook, Instagram, and Notes in Substack. Maybe I’ll even drop a few unpolished live videos, too. But I love dropping quotes into our imaginations from the things I’m reading, or sharing snippets of thought that I ponder in during the day.

Keeping a rhythm of consistency in my sacred space… So if you’ve followed my socials, you will know I enjoy working out in my basement gym while listening to my record collection. Exercise is good for the soul and I love keeping a good routine down. Being more in the outdoors wheeling during the warmer months is also in my hopes.

Spending time with family & friends… Relationships are important for rejuvenation to our well being. While I am extremely grateful for the relationships I keep online and the way technology provides these spaces during colder months and when getting out is difficult b/c of wheelchair life, I find myself longing for more physically enfleshed spaces. I hope these months might find greater time with real present people who bring great joy to my heart and life. Trips to parks, theaters, coffee shops, restaurants, live music, shared food and social events… bring them on!

Reading good books… Ok… Nothing new, I know. But, as you probably have noticed, I am a slow contemplative reader. Books take time for me to scan and digest. So I hope to get through a few summer reads in the next two months including — A Disabled Apostle, The Tears of Things, Embrace Life/Embrace Hope (finishing), The Gift of Limitations, and maybe a few others. I’m probably over shooting it already. It’s just so difficult with so many great reads calling my name!

Planning for the fall… While my mind and body may be creatively exhausted after this past season, I am already excited for and have so many imaginative thoughts for the upcoming fall season At The Bottom Of The Well! I know these will take some careful and prudent planning, though. There are some really great conversation partners I already have in mind, themes to explore, and moments to consider.

More to add to this, as I shared above, I deeply desire for a greater balance between online and physically enfleshed spaces of disabled community coming together to share, learn, advocate, and find supporting encouragement. I have already began drafting a vision for a fall gathering here in SE Calgary. But it needs community support, funding, a gathering space, advertising, and continued planning. PM me or let me know what you think in the comments!

Creative writing offline… While my blogging & podcasting slows down, I am considering leaving a little space for writing offline… perhaps just for personal growth. We’ll see where it goes from there. On a side note, I have some exciting news to share. It seems I was approved for an article to be published in an upcoming issue of the ‘Canadian Journal of Theology, Mental Health, and Disability’!! My friend Ty Ragan suggested I submit an article and to my surprise… they approved it for the fall issue!! So keep your eyes peeled and I’ll share a link in the socials when it is out.

AND, Rest… Right! As you can see while I forecast the next two months, I have troubles just being and letting the tides wash me ashore. The demand for productivity becomes my own inner demon and greatest battle. PRAY FOR ME… that I might let myself just rest. That personal demand for activity doesn’t override my need for self care and the demand for down time as a person with disabilities. It’s ok to watch some tv with Bonnie. I’m allowed to play a few holes of golf on my phone. But then… pray I can also find the rejuvenation to return to the creative callings I love so much, too. There I go again… expectations of productivity. 😂

Well I guess that is about it. As we enter Canada Day Weekend and the month of July, I am ready for a few months of down time and Sabbath. Yes, Sabbath… time with God is always important for me during any season, too. And hey, before signing off… check out the second section to this post below where I leave you a brief invitation to checkout a project I took part in over the last month with ‘A Deeper Communion’. I hope it is a blessing to you and your connective communities as much as it has been for me!

Thank you for being my fellow Well Dwellers! I will see you in a few months!!

Sincerely,

Erik Freiburger

LET THIS DARKNESS BE A BELL TOWER
by Rainer Maria Rilke

Quiet friend who has come so far,

feel how your breathing makes more space around you.
Let this darkness be a bell tower
and you the bell. As you ring,

what batters you becomes your strength.
Move back and forth into the change.
What is it like, such intensity of pain?
If the drink is bitter, turn yourself to wine.

In this uncontainable night,
be the mystery at the crossroads of your senses,
the meaning discovered there.

And if the world has ceased to hear you,
say to the silent earth: I flow.
To the rushing water, speak: I am.

A month ago, I had the opportunity to join ‘A Deeper Communion’ in their ‘Creative Hospitality’ conference online. It was an incredible day filled with inspiring presenters, great conversation, and dreams for the inclusion of the disabled in communities of faith. Over the last several weeks the team has been working hard to put these presentations together in a series of YouTube videos to share the message of inclusion and the possibilities for creative hospitality within communities of faith across Canada.

Below is a welcoming video with Dr. Keith Dow sharing an invitation to those presentations while you can find the series on A Deeper Communions YouTube Channel HERE and on their website HERE.

Over the next few weeks I plan to share each of these videos separately in my socials with a few brief reflections in the notes. Join me there if you would like to ask questions, reflect in conversation, or just follow along!

He Is Risen… So That I Might Rise…

And take up my cross and follow him.

That I would not let the strife in this world paralyze me with fear,

And I would overcome all things with the strength which he instills in me,

Embracing those who bear it with me in community.

He Is Risen… So That I Might Rise…

Proclaiming good news for the poor,

Seeking liberty for those who are captive,

Bringing sight to the blind,

And pursuing freedom for all who are oppressed.

He Is Risen… So That I Might Rise…

To act justly in the eyes of my creator,

Love mercy in every relationship whether I find affiliation with them or difference,

And embody humility in every endeavour I partake in with the Lord at my side.

He Is Risen… So That I Might Rise…

Blessing the poor in spirit, that the kingdom of God may be theirs inclusively.

Blessing those who mourn, so they may be comforted in my weeping with them.

Blessing the meek, that they may inherit the earth and all its beauty as we cherish it together.

Blessing those who hunger & thirst for righteousness, that they may receive it in abundance.

Blessing the merciful, so they may also find mercy in all things.

Blessing the pure in heart, that it may with every beat bring sight to the living God,

And blessing the real peacemakers who truly are the sons & daughters of God giving freely of themselves.

He Is Risen… So That I Might Rise…

Always seeking to follow Christ’s embodiment of the Way,

That I would remain in awe & wonder to His revelation of Truth and make no claim of my own,

And I would prostrate every part of my being to His fullness of Life.

He Is Risen… So That I Might Rise…

Loving the Lord my God with all my heart, all my mind, all my strength, and all my soul.

That the fruits of the Spirit — love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, & self control — would overflow in every aspect of my life & existence.

And that I would be filled with the confidence that despite any blemish, any physical defect, any state of disability, I would do even greater things for the glory of God.

He Is Risen… Let Us Rise Together In All Eternity.

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“Shalom is God’s dream for the world as it should be: whole, vibrant, flourishing, unified, and yes, at peace. Shalom is God’s dream for his love to bring wholeness and goodness to the world and everything within it, including you and me.”

— Osheta Moore, Shalom Sistas, Quoted in Willems, Kurt. Echoing Hope: How the Humanity of Jesus Redeems Our Pain (p. 13). (Function). Kindle Edition.

It seems difficult these days to find good news in our world? Highlights (or maybe, lowlights) include political polarities ripping family and communities apart, environmental extremes (whether human caused or natural) causing catastrophic damage to our beautiful nature lands and city neighbourhoods, increasing homelessness with a never ending housing crisis, a growing poverty rate, religious and various other hatred and bigotry being cited in our streets, a decaying healthcare system into a culture of death management… and on and on and on it goes. On a personal level, these issues then seem compounded while looking at my wife’s and my disability challenges as people with spinal cord injuries.

So where can we as disabled people find good news? Before answering that, perhaps we should actually ask first, what is good news for disabled people?

I’m hoping some of my personal reflections might connect with you. But some possible answers might include working towards:

Building a Community of Inclusive Belonging… Disabled people don’t want to feel simply filed away and segregated into subcategories of community titled “Disability Ministry Group” or “Special Needs Community”. We desire the inclusive relationships of diverse abilities and the unique experiences of what it means to be human beings living communally all together.

That doesn’t mean we are to ignore the unique needs and characteristics of disabled people. It means we are willing to learn about their unique needs and characteristics while incorporating them inclusively with community life.

Nor does this mean that inclusivity must reflect a sense of everyone being the same. Diversity is not the breakdown of relational belonging, but rather the natural encouragement for healthy attachments to grow and strengthen with time. In ‘Embracing Life, Embracing Hope’, Fern Buszowski describes that:

“We have imperfect relationships because we are imperfectly human. Therefore, the attachment styles we’ve developed may not always be secure; they can affect how we see ourselves, others, and even God. The good news is that they can change over time in healthy, safe relationships.”1

By building a community of belonging with disabled people, while recognizing their unique strengths and weaknesses or limits, we also see ourselves, God, and the world through greater perspectives and strengths. We discover the good news of a greater humanity within all creation when we give the time and effort of living together.

Universal Access and Design… This is more than just making sure there are ramps to your front door or wide enough stalls in your washrooms.2 Universal access and accessibility goes beyond structural design and social development. It is taking into account the needs disabled people have when planning social group activities so they might be part of the experience.

It is a pet peeve of mine and an injustice when churches are more concerned about disabled people being able to access Sunday morning services and the passing of the offering plate then they are of taking interest and planning for our inclusion in youth or adult community outings, retreats, and community social adventures.

Using the words of Judith Heumann, "It is easier to change the design of the environment then to change peoples attitudes." If we are to bring good news to people of disability today, it comes in the form of seeking universal access to the whole community experience.

Building Safe and Trusted Care Models Within Community… I recently read a blog post by Micha Boyett in ‘The Slow Way’ where she began exploring the prophetic imagination for social justice and our need to…

“… find trust that our caregivers will be available and responsive to us when we need nurture or support.”3

Her use of the word caregivers prompted me to write this as a social response:

Caregivers… This is a word which has nuanced meanings to the disabled. A person who builds a foundation of trust in which life-giving care is given to the other in deeply vulnerably and personal ways.

It does not seem today’s AHS our community “Caregiver” agencies seem to recognize this definition. Instead, caregiving is built on a foundation of profit margins and what best keeps money funnelled to third party privatized business ownership. There is no desire or attention given for or to clients or community members to have attachment relational trust in their caregivers and the constant stranger in our homes is considered “good enough” for personal exposer to fulfill any care needs.

How might the Church and Christ’s followers remind our governing leaders of a proper caregiving understanding and speak with prophetic imagination? How might the Church embody good news for the disabled and become the greater example of trusted caregivers?!

These are not easy questions to answer while seeking good news. But perhaps like the early church, we need to be willing to develop a radical imagination around the need for trusted caregiving for the disabled in our communities and not just leave it up to institutional or government agencies to fulfill; particularly ones which are more driven by self-profit then client or human care.

Financial Support and The Sharing of Equity… A quick Google search shows easily how in Canada, the poverty rate for people with disabilities is around twice as high as the poverty rate for people without disabilities. The poverty rate for people with disabilities is also higher for those living alone.4 And these statistics are growing.

Compounding this reality is how medical supply costs, the privatization costs of personal caregiving in the community, the minimization of proper Disability Benefits to individuals below the poverty line, and the unavailability of employment due to accessibility barriers and discrimination continues to also grow making escaping this reality impossible.

Good news comes when employment is made to be accessible and inclusive while proper and fair financial supports are given to those struggling in difficult situations.

That is a lot of Good News to work towards!! And I still haven’t even began to explore Leadership Development & Equipping, Technological Ingenuity & Aid Development, Healing & Medical Advancements. Are there more?

Without wanting to exhaust you, let me go back to our first question. Where can we find good news for the disabled today?

Jesus spoke a lot about good news in his life. Perhaps most pointedly when he came to his home village of Nazareth and spoke at the local synagogue. Reading from Isaiah he said:

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,

because he has anointed me

to bring good news to the poor.

He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives

and recovery of sight to the blind,

to let the oppressed go free,

to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour.”5

And then he spoke these powerful and embodying words…

Good news is not just a superficial surface oriented platitude or volunteered commitment offered for a few hours a week. Nor is it an oversimplified ideology that says it will be better for you once you are dead and cured in the next life. We cannot just give good news to disabled people. We must be good news to them. We must embody good news so as to say, “Today good news is being fulfilled within our living together!”

Of course, personal responsibility to good news is equally shared with an embodying community. Jesus and his followers called this his Church. In the very simplest understanding, a church is a group of people following a way of life together. Described in the book of Acts:

^“They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers. Awe came upon everyone, because many wonders and signs were being done by the apostles. All who believed were together and had all things in common; they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need. Day by day, as they spent much time together in the temple, they broke bread at home and ate their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having the goodwill of all the people.”6

What an incredible look into the daily lives of Jesus’s earliest and closest followers as they together embodied good news and became a radical expression of inclusive living! Good news is found in the learning from all members equally as they build strong relationships in the foundations of worship and prayer. Good news is found in the hard worked miracles of figuring life out amidst some of its greatest challenges. Good news is found in building commonality amongst diversely different people. It is in sharing with equity amongst all members and giving openly to the physical needs amidst them. It is being radical in hospitality and merciful to those oppressed by others.

Do you ever ponder how this would have looked like with the disabled members of their early communities?! What lessons about life and themselves do you think they learned? What shared needs did they fill for one another? Was their understanding of good news for the disabled any different than the one we have for today?

Over the course of history this gathering of Jesus followers has taken many forms including a rather resent group from the 18th century which takes the actual Greek words for good news to frame the name of their movement. They call themselves Evangel… Yes, that movement.

I don’t honestly know if your church embodies good news for the disabled in the radical ways Jesus envisioned it as I described both in the personal sense and the community. But maybe take a moment here, pause, and take a breath while asking honestly… Is my church modelling good news for disabled people today?… Am I embodying good news for disabled people today?

It is my hope that in sharing this vision with you, together we might explore and find renewed ways of becoming New Body’s and a New Church filled with Good News for disabled people of today.

3

The Slow Way

The Slow Way: Epiphany, Belovedness & Prophetic Imagination

Tim, my co-leader in our youth ministry, has been working through a series of lessons with our high school students he’s calling “Jesus in First Person.” In it he’s reimagining the stories of Jesus’s life from Jesus’s own perspective. How and when did Jesus realize his calling? What led him to g…

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2 years ago · 16 likes · 2 comments · Micha Boyett

When 2024 was beginning, Bonnie and I had just moved into the basement of our home where we would be living for the next three months while renovations were being done to repair the water damage to the upstairs of our home. Not an easy task when you have two people in wheelchairs trying to cram two mechanical beds, a portable Hoyer Lift, and all their daily living supplies into such a closed in space. And that’s not mentioning trying to endure the cold of winter in a basement environment!

One month later, AHS decided to change the contract services for Community Caregivers. This ment meeting, training, and dealing with mismanaged and inexperienced caregivers while trying to survive the renovation and basement dwelling. On more then one occasion, I felt like we were loosing our minds!

The year continued with more adventures and figurative fires to put out. But it felt like I was in survival mode for a lot of it. It was challenging trying to keep up with creating a healthy normalcy — exercise routine, healthy eating, project planning, community engagement, etc.

As 2025 begins, it feels like a lot of these challenges are hopefully coming to a close. We can finally begin to turn towards and change our focus with hope for the new year!

Metanoia is a Greek word which means to change or turn towards a new position or focus. In their book ‘Metanoia: How God Radically Transforms People, Churches, and Organizations From The Inside Out’, Alan Hirsch and Rob Kelly define metanoia as:

“… an invitation to a process of making visible what is currently invisible.It invites us to see differently and to learn to behave differently, from a deep place of personal and corporate transformation.”1

I can’t help but wonder if change can have its own gravitas? It’s not so much the work or effort of the individual themselves, but a natural draw towards new life giving moments that a person is simply pulled into. Metanoia is not just the repentant act of changing what was “wrong” before, but a willingness and courage to follow an unseen evolving force or Spirit of transformation. Maybe, that in itself is the very definition of hope.

In a recent post from Fern Buszowski, she asks the question, “What is your Word for the year?” The purpose of articulating a word, she says,

“… is that it isn’t about goal setting, todo’s, or achieving. It doesn’t require measurement, performance, or comparison – all it needs is our awareness of what is going on around us, in us, and through us.”2

So while I suspect I’ll find many words spoken to me over the next year, I feel particularly drawn to the awareness of hope. Perhaps as its revelations are revealed to me in my life, it might also cast a shadow of hope into your life, too.

It is a story that has resonated with me throughout this Advent season. A country ruled by a colonial power culture that is plagued with prejudice and political corruption. Economic strife and an over taxed social setting that is creating desperation and poverty. And a religious governing subculture feuding with extremist beliefs and zealous movements. In the midst of it all, Zechariah is told, “Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you will name him John.”1

Maybe it was his old age, or maybe just a cynicism that was plaguing his soul with all that was happening around him; but Zechariah just could not bring himself to believe the words this angel was saying to him. “How will I know that this is so?”2 He asks with a heavy voice. The angel, disappointed with his doubt, tells him he will be unable to speak again until his son is about to be born. Zechariah found himself without words and spent the next nine months in a deep state of silence.

Silence. I too find myself drawn into this state; the state of being without words. After the last year I find myself in almost disbelief to:

• the ravaging machine of war robbing the world of life and dignity to the whole of humanity.

• political leadership wrapped in corrupt controversy after controversy.

• Crumbling healthcare systems that allow ablism and capitalist privatization to direct neglect to the disabled and marginalized communities.

• Chaotic social movements that blur, pervert, and decay any sense of meaning to an understandable truth.

On a personal level, I have struggled to find a significance to what I might actually share or contribute to in the world that would actually be of any value. The internal wrestling with that same question of hope, “How will I know that this is so?” I'm sure some of you might refute this and try to bring me some encouragement. For that, I am truly thankful. But the internal battle is one I know I must face on my own and depending on the moment, some days I find myself winning. While others, not so much.

In an Advent reflection post of his own, Jonathan Puddle shared that,

“During these days of Advent, we might look back on the year and be honest that it was with much bitterness that we drew water from other wells: the well of self-preservation, the well of control, the well of unjust systems.

But God understands the world we live in, what we are facing and the ways we try to survive it. Advent offers us a road into the mystery of one who sees us and knows us and loves us, and invites us to a hearth & home that is truly safe.”3

Perhaps this post might read as a bit dark. And perhaps it is. But sometimes, it is in the darkness and silence that our other senses begin to see deeper wisdom and truths that we could not see before. We cannot confront the needs for transformation in our lives if we aren’t willing to enter the darknesses of our soul where they reside.

Perhaps… that is the Advent story itself. A God, who after centuries of being silent, is willing to give in to his own creation by entering into the depths of its darkness and finding incarnation as his greatest act of salvational glory.

Micha Boyett speaks of hope locked in a tension between these two realities:

So here I wait in reflective silence this Advent season. Maybe you might like to sit with me as together we look towards a coming hope. A hope that may sometimes be hard to see; but promised by Emmanuel, the incarnated one who sits beside us, knows us, and loves us.

4

The Slow Way

The Slow Way: Advent and Hope

Tis the season for hope, that tiny, practical word that keeps us alive when the world turns violent and dangerous. Hope is the kind of word that allows us to cling to the people we love, even when it feels impossible to see the best in them. Hope allows us to believe that the world can move towa…

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2 years ago · 11 likes · 5 comments · Micha Boyett

A week ago, I received an email from my church letting me know what to expect when we would gather on the weekend. "This Sunday we are having a Healing Service!" Instantly my guard went up and my nerves became on edge. Oh no! What is my church going to expect of me? Do they not know of the history to this kind of language? Amy Kenny's words crept into my thinking...

"Healing is time-consuming, difficult work. Whereas curing is hasty. No wonder prayerful perpetrators would rather demand a quick fix than investigate the way society needs healing when it comes to disability inclusion.”

― Amy Kenny, My Body Is Not a Prayer Request: Disability Justice in the Church

Let's just be honest, I don't like "healing services". Even though I know my church leaders have done their best to teach that cure based expectations are not an expectation or proper understanding of Christian faith and practice; I know the translation becomes lost in the multitude and ableist false attitudes and beliefs (dare I say heretical?) still creep out into the community. Can we not do away with "healing services"? But, I digress. Healing does happen and I am willing to say that the miraculous is possible and part of it.

This post is about 5 Ways Jesus Heals. I first heard these 5 Ways a few weeks ago, also at my church. My pastor, James Paton, shared them in his Sunday message while speaking openly of his own journey in healing. Diagnosed with Parkinson's, he seemed to speak with greater integrity and credibility to me. It inspired me to write this post.

Let's begin...

Directly & Supernaturally

Growing up, I remember many in the Church asking questions, "Why does it seem like miracles just don't seem to happen these days?" More suspiciously, they always seemed to happen only on those televangelist TV shows without any context or personal connection; which ultimately would only lead to the aggrandizement of the "healing" evangelist and of course, his bank account. Evidence of God's real work? In truth, I didn't care. That wasn't until I myself was in a car wreck and living life in a wheelchair. That was when miracles mattered.

Funny thing, after my need to witness a real miracle, I have seen a few over the years. Perhaps the one closest to me was the one my wife experienced in 2014 following the surgery on her neck. Being a C1C2 incomplete quadriplegic, she has had the spine in her neck fused from the skull down through to her C5 vertebrae since 1992. After years of the C6 vertebrae doing all the work, her spine in that area was breaking down. They needed to fuse further down through to her C7 vertebrae.

It was after the surgery that she developed a complication — she could no longer swallow properly. We were devastated and terrified on how we would process a future where she would have to rely on a feeding tube for the rest of her life. I began asking everyone I knew to begin praying immediately and she was being lifted up in word all across Canada and the US.

It would be three months of struggling to balance what hospitality would look like, how the celebration of the eucharist in church would change, and how I might prepare to sustain my own eating needs while not tormenting my wife by finding the enjoyment of food overtly in front of her. We would then beg her doctors, "Please, test her again! We truly believe she can swallow again!" Reluctantly, they booked her in.

Starting small, they had her take small sips of syrupy liquid before graduating to more solid foods like pudding, strawberries, and crackers while they watched on an x-ray machine behind the safety glass. Sitting there myself, I had a little chuckle as I remember the doctor leaning in to the technician and quietly saying, "Are you sure this is the same patient from a few months ago?" She was cured! Not just partially. Completely! The doctor said to her as we prepared to leave, "I don't have any explanation or understanding. But you can eat and drink whatever you would like!" We were elated and thrilled! Rolling out the door of the test room the doctor asked, "Where are you headed?" We laughed and said in tandem, "To get a large coffee!"

This and other experiences have taught me that Jesus heals miraculously not for the show, and not just for spiritual or religious well being; but for the full restoration of both the person and the social community around the person who experiences the healing. We both now have a renewed and expanded maturity and understanding of what hospitality truly means and why miracles show God's love in the here and now of today.

Doctors & Medicine

Without a doubt, I have spent a great deal of time around medical centres and practicing health physicians throughout my life. The best ones are the ones who genuinely show they care about their patients and listen tentatively to who they are inside and out. There have been times where I have had concerns for today's health care system. But I still truly believe that most of our doctors and health care workers are incredible people who do amazing things to care for patients.

I remember one time being in the chapel of the Foothills Hospital and a pair of doctors came in with their scrubs still on. Together they stretched their prayer rugs out and quietly began openly praying to God. I was reminded, doctors are spiritual people too who look to God for guidance, wisdom, and direction. I of course knew this already in the back of my mind. But this experience revealed to me just how deeply medical practitioners are open and reliant on being instruments of Jesus's healing through their work.

We don't always see our doctors, nurses, and health care workers openly pursuing Jesus' guidance in healing. But that does not mean that God is not at work behind the curtain. Jesus's hands most certainly are leading the minds and hands of our medical community today.

The Human Body's Ability To Heal

When I first injured my spinal cord at the C4/C5 and T4 vertebras in 1994, along with several other internal injuries, I remember being told I would never be able to fully use my arms and hands completely again — along with my legs. I would most likely become dependent on a breathing aid/machine. And that I would be lucky to live for longer then 20+ years before infections and declining health would begin to take a heavy toll. Back then, this was what all the research pointed to with spinal cord injured patients. And yet... my body has not only endured, but has thrived!

The human body is still a mystery in many ways. And God's creative design in our embodied being, I truly believe, reveals a humanity that is still coming into the realization of creations healing potential and ability. We must be willing to not jump to conclusions, but allow time to define how our healing can evolve and manifest.

There is a story following Jesus' crucifixion where he appears before his followers; particularly a man named Thomas. In disbelief of what he was seeing, Jesus instructed Thomas to place his hands in the holes of his hands and feet. "Thomas," Jesus said, "place your hands upon the wound in my side." To me, this story is remarkable as even in resurrected form, Jesus embodied the healing process... in incomplete form! Resurrection healing takes time!

As we look for the body we have been created in to heal from it’s wounds, and for Jesus to work in its restoration, the greatest tool we must allow him to work through is time itself. Patience is the greatest gift patients can have in allowing Jesus to heal in and through our bodies.

Grace In Suffering

Perhaps the hardest moments in my life are the times when it seems "healing" is beyond possible. More often then not, these are the times when my body spasms without ceasing, perspires to the point where my shirt is drenched, and dysreflexia drives my heart rate up and fills me with anxiety. It usually points towards issues with my bladder. But the leading cause can leave me suffering for an uncontrollable time period to which these spells will come and go, no doubt, for the rest of my life.

Like so many others who live with chronic suffering, I find myself asking in the midst of these moments, "Where are you God?" Truth be told, there are even moments where my emotions get the best of me and I out right loose my temper with him while shouting and waving my fists in the air.

And yet... the moments pass. God is still there and the only thing he seems to want me to know is that he still loves me. He understands the anguish to which I have. Like Jesus (his other son ;) ), God's grace endures my crying, “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” (which means “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”)

Several years ago I read Barbra Brown Taylor's book 'An Altar In The World'. She shared openly about the complexities of pain and its relentless presence in life:

Plato once said that pain restores order to the soul. Rumi said that it lops off the branches of indifference. “The throbbing vein / will take you further / than any thinking.” Whatever else it does, pain offers an experience of being human that is as elemental as birth, orgasm, love, and death. Because it is so real, pain is an available antidote to unreality—not the medicine you would have chosen, perhaps, but an effective one all the same. The next time you are in real pain, see how you feel about television shows, new appliances, a clean house, or your resumé. Chances are that none of these will do anything for you. All that will do anything for you is some cool water, held out by someone who has stopped everything else in order to look after you. An extra blanket might also help, a dry pillow, the simple knowledge that there is someone in the house who might hear you if you cried...

There will always be people who run from every kind of pain and suffering, just as there will always be religions that promise to put them to sleep. For those willing to stay awake, pain remains a reliable altar in the world, a place to discover that a life can be as full of meaning as it is of hurt. The two have never canceled each other out and I doubt they ever will, at least not until each of us—or all of us together—find the way through.

― Taylor, Barbara Brown. An Altar in the World: A Geography of Faith (p. 172). HarperOne. Kindle Edition.

I don't think we can ever really truly answer all our questions about why there is pain and suffering in our world today. Or perhaps, why God seems unable to stop it. But, it seems God's grace always reveals an altar to which we share with Jesus suffering on the cross and anguishing with us over the pain in our life together.

Victorious Dying

This is probably one of the most perplexing struggles we find in life; how can we make meaning of death? Victory seems strangely alien to be paired with the finality of death. But death is not really an ending so much as it is a veiling of what lies beyond it. To use the words of another pastor in my church community, Kyle Trigg spoke to truth saying, “While sickness on earth can lead to death; it does not have to end in death.” Life goes beyond finite existence and Jesus' resurrection reveals hope for a victory he can raise us up in.

This revelation of healing through the veil of death is of course rooted in a willingness to let faith guide our principles and values in life. I can't simply tell you that my death will be victorious in any sense of knowing how my resurrection will appear. But, I can allow my faith in Jesus to shape the way I live here and now ― my values, actions, principles, endeavours to bring change to my community, bring healing to the relationships I cherish, and the witness this life practice shares with the world. It is in these things that I hope to see myself succeed in dying... victoriously.

A Final Thought

I am sure that this has been a lot to work through as we journeyed together through these 5 Ways Jesus heals. Perhaps, you might also be asking the same question I have been reflecting on while reading these over once again; is healing restricted to just these 5 at any given one moment?

In truth, no. Our experience of healing in life comes not just at any one given experience, or even in one particular way. The healing of Jesus comes through the piecing together of all these experiences over the course of our lives. We also share in the healing communally as we take part in the body and blood of a living Eucharist. As my friend Alan Hirsch articulates it:

“Just as the individual pieces of a puzzle only makes sense by being set within the completed puzzle, so “everything” finds its proper place in him, and all the fragmented and dislocated pieces of our world are put back together in him. The more we let the life and events of Christ’s life inform and imprint us, the more we will be able to connect our own daily stories with the greater story of God’s presence in our lives.”

— Alan Hirsch With Rob Kelly in ‘Metanoia: How God Radically Transforms People, Churches, and Organizations From The Inside Out'

As a person who lives with disabilities in a disabled world, I look for healing not within the confines of my own understanding, timing, expectations, or misguided projections of a cure. But rather I remain waiting for the revelation of healing brought to the whole of creation by the extraordinary return of a man that lives eternally by God's side. Amen!

I have always felt that the conversation of Disability, Dignity, and Hope needs to go deeper and wider to really impact and transform my local community. With issues and understandings often glanced over or left to an assumed norm, the disabled seem largely invisible and left to the margins of neighbourly awareness. As a Well Dweller, I deeply desire to see this change and for the conversation not just to be had within my community, but recognized as important to understanding who we are as people living together — creating, developing, participating, growing, and evolving interdependently.

But I have also known for this to happen, and for it to be more then just a conversation, it needs participating others — both individuals and organizations. It needs sponsorship and resources. And it needs people who are willing to amplify and expand on the relating issues, subjects, and needs.

In a couple weeks I will be joining a small few who will begin asking those questions as they relate to a local context here in my city and maybe Province — How do we talk deeper & wider about disability, dignity, & hope? While only being a small voice in such a fellowship, I have been pondering some of the questions I have for such a gathering of affiliates.

• How might we connect with and amplify the voices & life stories of the disabled in our community?

• What are the important issues we need to explore, talk about, and be active in?

• How & are we able to organize, resource, and bring events to our community that will benefit the disabled and widen their relationships with neighbours and others? What event/s and activities might those be?

• Where are the needs of the disabled in our community? And, how might we address them?

I'm sure more questions may come to my mind as I contemplate before our meeting in a few weeks. But as a beginning of thought... perhaps you, my readers, might think of other questions to also bring to the table. Or, perhaps you might like to respond to one of my questions. Please do drop me a comment below.

We are your witnesses: We tell gladly what we have seen and heard, what we have remembered and been told, what we trust and on which we stake our lives. We tell gladly of your mighty rescues and your great gifts of justice and well-being. We tell joyously of your guarantees of creation, seedtime and harvest, day and night, cold and heat. We tell bravely that all is well and all is well and all will be well. Caught up short in mid-doxology by the reality of our lives: We know about loss and failure, We have heard tell about poverty and violence, We inhale daily war and rumors of war. And so we bear witness as well, that we yearn for your assurance and find silence; we hope for your presence and meet dread absence; we watch for newness and notice the dry smell of what is old. We tell what we know of you, And in moments of daring praise, we tell more than we ought, Ready to risk our truth-telling about you, still unverified, yet invisible, but in trust and confidence and gratitude for gifts you yet promise. Amen.

— Brueggemann, Walter. Following into Risky Obedience: Prayers along the Journey (pp. 99-100). Westminster John Knox Press. Kindle Edition.

It is still one of my favourite lines from the show 'The Good Doctor'. After a surgical injury resulting in her spinal cord being compressed and leaving her in a wheelchair, Dr. Audrey Lim months later frustratingly exclaims to her colleagues:

"I'm so tired of having to train like an Olympic athlete just to be able to get on and off the toilet again everyday!"

— Dr. Audrey Lim in 'The Good Doctor'

YES!! Every time I hear this line I can't help but raise my arms up in the air and yell these words out loud as though she just spoke the very truth to what every person in a wheelchair thinks everyday!! YES!!

That said, I also do truly love my daily ritual of retreating down to my basement gym where I'll workout for a couple hours with one of my old records spinning on the turn table. Switching it up and sometimes mixing my activities between Thera-bands, free weights, machines, and cardio... this space has kind of become a holy ground for me in my home.

Exercise for a disabled person is most definitely a must in maximizing the abilities we have. But it can also be a profound way to nurture our minds, bodies, and souls. It is important to recognize that the inspiration for this has to come from deep within ourselves and not by any expectations put upon us in the world.

I don't think this can anywhere else be truly seen more then in the athletes who perform in the Paralympic Games. This past week I have been mesmerized by the athletic prowess of Zak Madell, Mike Whitehead, and the others on Canada's wheelchair rugby team as they compete in Paris's 2024 Paralympic Games. Today they placed 6th in the world after loosing to France in the Playoff Championship game. But coming back several times after a deficit, they kept it to being within 3 points in the end. The speed they showed on the court, strength to push through game after game, and skill in strategic maneuvering and playing, these are athletes motivated for a passion to pursue the best of their abilities at all times!

Physical training is not the only challenge these athletes face when preparing for the games. It was back in the mid 90's that I competed in Canadian Wheelchair Rugby and besides training for the actual sport, I also had to deal with the stresses of inaccessible traveling challenges, health needs as a quadriplegic, the exorbitant costs on a strained budget, balancing training time with work, and the loneliness of leaving loved ones behind when playing on the road.

These athletes also do not get the corporate sponsorships other more well known Olympic athletes do. They rely on the supports of private donors and personal sacrifices for the sake of their love for the game. They may not look it, but Paralympian's simply tower over the obstacles that most regular Olympians face... in my opinion.

We disabled athletes must first always realize that our greatest opponent is not the person we face on the field, it is the opponent we face within ourselves. We are not just pushing our physical abilities despite a defiant body, we must learn to ignore the inner voice that tells us we're not worth it; and the outer voices of a ablest culture that tells us we can't do it.

Secondly, we can't do it alone. The greatest strength today's Paralympian's have is recognizing the strength that comes from a healthy and supportive community. Set goals not only by ourselves but also with the guidance and supports of others who know the challenges we face and share in the passions we have for disabled athleticism — coaches, trainers, therapists, doctors, dieticians, and fellow athletes. We can seek those communities out through organizations like the Spinal Cord Injury Canada and the Canadian Wheelchair Sports Association.

I hope you get to take in some of the Paralympic Games throughout the rest of this week. If you did not know, it is all being streamed for free both Live and in Replay on the CBC Gem App and website HERE.

What sports are you watching this Paralympic Games?

Who are the standout athletes for you?

Drop me a comment below and let me know what you think of these amazing athletes!!

Maybe it's just me but, I've often felt a little uneasy about the hierarchical language used when scripture says the words, "The Kingdom of God is near." I mean, it makes sense when speaking to a culture entrenched within the ruling of the Roman Empire. But with today's discussion around empire and colonialism, is kingdom language still helpful or meaningful to what we are really meant to see drawing near?

This past week however, I heard this phrase voiced within a different language. What if what scripture is really wanting us to hear is that, "The Dream of God is near!"? Such a simple switch in translation and yet it seems to bring a renewing and refreshing vision to God's hopes for creation. Now instead of peoples imagination turning to authoritarian meanings, they rather find creative possibilities in the transformation of the world before them. Dreaming offers not only a shared relational experience, it gives a sense of participatory hope within the revelation. The feelings and emotions of "I have a dream" become more of a "we have a dream".

So, what does a dream world for those with disabilities look like? I wonder if this world drew near, how might I find myself in such a revelation?

In 'Life Worth Living: A Guide to What Matters Most', there is a recognition that waiting for our own expected idealisms to mystically reveal a path forward themselves leads only to the loss of our opportunity to experience the life we truly have. Volf and Croasmun write:

“Life is too expansive and messy to build a perfect, all-encompassing, impeccably coherent vision that we can then just put into practice, like building a Lego set from the instructions. It’s no good waiting until we have everything figured out before we get down to living because all that time spent waiting and figuring things out is already time spent living.”

— Life Worth Living: A Guide to What Matters Most by Miroslav Volf, Matthew Croasmun, et al.

I think in many cases, this is the first miss-step many of us who have disabilities due to injury take in seeking a life post trauma. We look for a cure rather than for healing. Using our original struggle with language, we want kingdom authority over our embodiment rather then the dream of who and what is drawing near to our lives.

To seek real revelation in disability, is to be open to the creative dream of what it means to be human. The dream of God is in recognizing we are a creature of embodied love capable of immeasurable possibilities before us. We discover a future not in certainty, but in the exciting journey of pushing forward into the unknowing struggle of a promising world before us. Using Volf's and Croasmun's words again:

“Life isn’t a series of crises calling for Heroic Moral Deeds. Most of the time, it’s a series of small, seemingly insignificant decisions and nondecisions. It’s made up of habits and assumptions and incremental changes. The shape of who we are and how we live isn’t like Stonehenge. It’s not made by stacking a few massive rocks on top of one another. It’s built up over time, brick by brick.”

— Life Worth Living: A Guide to What Matters Most by Miroslav Volf, Matthew Croasmun, et al.

I hear the words, "Get up and go your way. You have been healed." Now it is upon my willingness to seek a new path, with a renewed community, and an open world filled with innovative wonders. Come dream with me!

I have been in a wheelchair since I was 15 years old. It took me several years after my spinal cord injury to gain my independence. Maybe I was just naïvee or blinded by my own pride; but I never thought I would loose the independence I fought so hard gain. Time had other plans.

A few years ago I badly injured my shoulder tearing several of the muscles in my left arm, I lost many of the abilities I had that brought my independence. I was "disabled" again and I struggled to see hope from my hospital bed all the while being isolated in a sterile room during the pandemic. With reconstructive surgery and complications due to a pressure wound, I would spend near the next year and a half confined to my bed. I felt very alone and my world had shrunk to the size of my iPhone screen. Hope had become but a distant memory.

One of my favourite quotes comes from Marcel Poust who once said:

“The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes.”

It reminded me during that time that hope comes not from a destination or state of perceived normality in my life or abilities. Hope is revealed in the stillness of wonder and awe to the transformation of becoming who God desires me to be. Having new eyes is a willing submission to find yourself in a bigger story that transcends the smallness of your world.

Perhaps this is not an exhaustive list. But here are a few possible lenses or eyes which I have found can reveal hope for today and the future.

Innovative Participation & Not Isolation

Over the last several years, many have begun to explore deeper what it means to be a part of community. Particularly, the online expressions, culture, and technologies that foster belonging and communal engagement. Church is no longer just an online streaming of the Sunday service. People desire online participation in communal activity.

Some statistics are:

•  76% of internet users participate in an online community. 

• 98% of people who belong to an online group say they feel a sense of belonging to that group.

• 77% say the most important group they are part of now operates online.

• As a result of the pandemic, 74% of community programs reported an increased recognition of their value – 62% of communities experienced an increase in engagement, with 17% of those seeing a significant increase.

As a disabled person, I recognize the difficulty to manage my health needs and fulfill my deep desire for community in my life. Allowing for new eyes to embrace innovative participation in online communities has brought a vision for hope in what and who matters today and in the future. Rather then withdraw into a seclusion of self doubt and emotional loss, I seek new relational encounters that show hope through online connectivity.

Inclusiveness not Segregation

Since I was young, I have always been dismayed by the "placard" mentality I've experienced in many communities. Accessibility and communal involvements have always seemed segregated to the "Disabled" or “Special Needs” label of inclusion. By limiting the experience we as disabled people can have in society, hope seems at a distance bordered by ableist illusions of participation and the unrecognized or unfulfilled role of influence we can have in an integrated community.

Some of the most hope felt experiences I have had in inclusion over the years have come from communities who embrace my participation and transform the physical and social accessibility of their activities so that I can take part in amongst the diversity of their members. I am not separated to just a visible world of the disabled but, participating and even leading at times in the world of those with unseen disabilities.

Small Steps Towards Change

I remember in the mid 80's when Rick Hansen accomplished the unbelievable and wheeled around the world in his Man In Motion Tour. Actually, I can still recall his theme song while singing it to myself as I type these words. Truth be told, following my shoulder injury a few years ago, I wrote him a letter which prompted a phone call with him before my reconstructive surgery. It was an inspiration as we spoke about his recovery following a similar injury.

It seems I have always wanted to move mountains to inspire hope in others. It wasn't enough for Jesus to die on the cross for the world. I wanted to die for the world, too. Maybe you have felt similar in the expectations you place upon yourself.

Miroslav Volf points to the reality that those kind of expectations are unreal in the course of a life truly well lived. He wisely points out:

“Life isn’t a series of crises calling for Heroic Moral Deeds. Most of the time, it’s a series of small, seemingly insignificant decisions and nondecisions. It’s made up of habits and assumptions and incremental changes. The shape of who we are and how we live isn’t like Stonehenge. It’s not made by stacking a few massive rocks on top of one another. It’s built up over time, brick by brick.”

— Life Worth Living: A Guide to What Matters Most by Miroslav Volf, Matthew Croasmun, et al.

Seeing hope in a life of disability means recognizing a high bar of expectation is not found in measuring our lives through others eyes. Rather, God's glory is revealed through the smaller acts of recognizing our own character and identity pursuing a relationship with our creator here and now within. Pursuing hope through self care and seeking our own daily needs provides an empowerment of overwhelming confidence and well-being which ripples in the witness to others beyond our own understanding.

I love the way my friend Jenn Rombeek Burnett describes this freeing hope while I leave you with her words from a devotion she wrote a few months ago:

“I’m resetting the bar to the high place it was meant to be, rather than to the lower standard I have justified through more complicated reasoning, which have truly just been excuses. A little surprisingly, I’m finding this an incredibly empowering process because while the world feels overwhelmingly out of control, I’m choosing afresh to control the only person Jesus ever tasked me with managing: myself. And as I yield to this refining, I’m declaring afresh the simple truth that God is Creator, Re-creator and Lord of all.”

— Jenn Rombeek Burnett in 'An Invitation To Uncomplicated Obedience'

What I Don't Know

Let me start with the story of a memory I have from when I was younger and before I was in a wheelchair. It was a sunny spring day and like many before, I was dribbling a basketball while walking towards the courts near by my home. I was always rather athletic and would spend hours shooting hoops most days in the local park. But on this day, while walking, I distinctly recall a voice that seemed to question from inside of me. "How would you feel about being in a wheelchair for the rest of your life?"

A strange question for a young teenager to contemplate, for sure. I was certainly no stranger to those who were in wheelchairs and considered disabled. When I was young, my mother worked with many who for different reason were in wheelchairs and she would take me with her to these peoples homes. In the early 70's, before I was born, she was a health care aid in a spinal cord unit of a hospital and later would work in the community during the 80's for many who had disabilities. The disabled life was made very visible and accessible to me very early in life. So I responded to the question perhaps rather quickly and with a certain understanding of its meaning.

"Yes," I internally told myself, "I think being in a wheelchair would make me unique and cool." Looking back I realize how naive my answer might have been. But I also think it was the Holy Spirit perhaps preparing me for the coming changes that would happen in my life and who I would become.

The experience of this encounter has really revealed to me that our understanding of the language and concept of disability is only expressed within a relational framework with a certain degree of mystery and unknownness. It is not a static black and white expressionism or definition in our identities. All are faced with this relationship to disability and need to allow for their understanding of it to be a part of their live's while letting its concepts and language grow, mature, and evolve.

What I Do Know

Since that first internal questioning within myself, I have learned about my relationship with disabilities through what sometimes has felt like a rollercoaster of emotions and growth periods. But over the last couple years I have found 3 spheres of described identity, articulated by Betty Pries in her book 'The Space Between Us', that has impacted my understanding of disability greatly.

The 3 spheres she describes are:

1. The Descriptive Self (Read More Here)

   • Characteristics, Strengths, & Limitations

   • Also Circumstances of Our Birth & Language of Our Embodiment

   • And Foundational Human Needs

2. The Defended Self (Read More Here)

   • Ego

   • Ablism

   • Prejudice

   • Institutionalized Models of Disability -- Medical Model, Social Model of Disability, Moral Model, etc.

3. The Deeper Self (Read More Here)

   • Betty Pries -- “Together our deeper and descriptive selves form the essence of what it means to be a person. If our descriptive self is our form, then our deeper self is our formlessness, or life breath, on which identity rests. This is the house of the sacred that lives in each person. It is the birthplace of all goodness, generosity, and grace. In various religious traditions, the deeper self is described as the presence or breath of God, as consciousness, or as the energy of great love, coursing through the body of each person.”

These are not definitive definitions in our concepts or language of disability. But the 3 spheres give a sort of framework we can view our relationship with disability through. They are the perhaps DNA building blocks to wrestle and grapple with both as individuals and as a society.