Instead of desperately trying to cure all disabilities, the church should do the slow and difficult work of healing the surrounding society by tearing down spaces, practices, and mindsets that are inaccessible to disabled people, even when those spaces are inside the church itself. The church should follow Jesus by healing instead of curing.
There is a difference between curing and healing, and the church called to the slow and difficult work of healing. We are called to enter into one another‘s pain, anoint the sick, and stick around, no matter the outcome, even when it makes us uncomfortable.
The goal of healing isn‘t fixing, but restoring. It‘s a transformative process that seeks to make someone feel whole. Healing is not about erasing the experience of trauma (which I‘m pretty sure is impossible) but about processing it and coming to terms with it, no matter how heavy it might be to carry.
It‘s easy to long for nothing but good news and carefree days, but a full life includes the broken and dark and difficult parts, too.
If you stay anywhere long enough, it will start to accumulate some shadows. And those shadows make it no less beautiful. It makes it something like home. It anchors you there in ways that a steady diet of pleasantness never will.
I‘ve spent most of my life holding my breath and hoping that when people get close enough they won‘t leave, and fearing that it‘s a matter of time before they figure me out and go.
A heavy load of grief can be shared by talking about it, next time you encounter someone who‘s mourning, listen with great sensitivity, knowing that listening itself is a sacred act.
Speak to those who are suffering; don‘t leave them alone in their pain. Practice the sacred art of being present in pain, even when it feels scary or awkward.
Do whatever you have to do to connect with God in a way that feels authentic and truthful to you.
