equipping churches to support the special needs of adoptive & foster families

Ever since I started looking for special needs ministry resources outside of our local church, Key Ministry has been there to encourage and equip me and connect me with others who could help our church serve our families well.

As I wrote this blog almost daily and ramped up my speaking at national conferences, the folks from Key Ministry cheered me on. Then, they were some of the first ministry friends to find out about our first adoption. As that adoption and our second one required me to step out of the ministry spotlight (which is a rather weird place anyway), they got it and cheered us on in the ministry God called us to in Taiwan and Uganda and, ultimately, behind the doors of our family home.

Now I'm privileged to join their ranks in a very part-time consultant role (because my life doesn't permit anything more than that right now!), serving:

1. to help churches troubleshoot various challenges to inclusive children's and youth ministry
2. to equip churches in supporting the special needs of adoptive and foster families

I'm particularly excited about the second objective. As more and more churches rightly exhort their members to consider adoption for children in need of families and foster parenting for those who need a soft place to land for a time, children's and youth ministries need to be prepared to lovingly support the families who step forward and welcome the children who join their families for a time or forever. 

Let me be the first to admit: It's not easy. 

But it's definitely worth it.

I can't fully express how excited I am that my friend Gillian Marchenko and I will be co-leading a session called "Making Churches a Place of Welcome for Children with Special Needs….and Their Families" at next month's CAFO Summit. I've been clamoring for a session like this for years, and God has equipped Gillian to address this topic as a mom of children with special needs (both by birth and adoption), as a minister's wife, and as the author of a wonderfully reflective memoir about the birth and parenting of their first daughter with Down syndrome. And I'm honored that she's asked me to come alongside her in addressing the topic.

Three other promising sessions are "Creating a Church Culture Where Foster and Adoptive Families Thrive," "How Your Church Can Equip and Support Adoptive & Foster Families," and "Is Your Church Ready? Successfully Communicating to your Children & Youth Ministries." In several years of reviewing adoption conference workshop offerings, these are some of the first sessions I've seen that uniquely focus on how to serve these families and the children well post-placement.

Previously, all the special needs sessions at adoption conferences have either (a) focused on pre-placement, addressing questions like "what is special needs adoption?" and "could my family handle adopting a child with [insert a diagnosis: HIV, Down syndrome, and so on]?" or (b) aimed at directly addressing families who have adopted children with special needs but not equipping church leaders to meet the ongoing needs these families face.

Those are worthy and necessary topics, but they're not enough.

The need is great, both for Christian families to open their homes to children in need and for the rest of the church to step forward with them in offering support and understanding their diverse needs.

If you'll be at CAFO, let me know! I'd love to connect.
(Register here if you'd like to come but aren't signed up!)

Whether you'll be there or not, would you comment to tell me ONE thing - a resource, a training, a passage of scripture, a program, a "how to," anything - that you'd like to see shared or developed to aid churches in supporting the special needs of adoptive and foster families? It would be a huge help in directing my priorities at Key Ministry.

Thank you!

*One note about churches and adoption: 

I am fully convinced - as is the team at Key Ministry - that adoption and fostering are not the only ways the church ought to respond to at-risk children. We are all for orphan prevention, through initiatives to preserve existing families and alleviate poverty and meet practical needs, and ministry to single mothers and widows. That said, we're intentionally honing in our focus on a specific area of need in inclusive family ministry (ministry to post-placement adoptive and foster families), and we're thankful that God is calling others to step forward in other ways. The only way the church can holistically address all the facets of orphan care is if we each are faithful to do what God has placed before us; no one person or organization can do it all.

How much does a special needs diagnosis matter at church?

This post was originally published on this blog in January 2012.


I'm not actually going to tackle the main question in the title, instead leaving that up to my friend Steve, a special needs ministry leader and pediatric psychiatrist who blogged about this topic here.

I can and will answer for our church, though. There's a reason our ministry is called Access. Our aim is to support kids and adults whose unique needs make it more difficult for them to access the community of believers that is the church.

So, does that mean that the individuals have to have a diagnosis for us to help? No, not necessarily.

That's the nice thing about being a church instead of a government agency. We can show love without categories, because Christ first showed us love regardless of our abilities or worth. I was talking with one of our moms about this recently. She's a case manager for kids with special needs who receive Medicaid, so she sometimes has to decide - using the proper federal and state guidelines - which kids are disabled enough to qualify and which ones aren't; it's not fun for her to have to turn a family away. Conversely, I have the freedom to look at the individual in need, instead of looking at a list of qualifying diagnoses, and I love that.

When a child who is new to our church is having a lot of anxiety when being left in Sunday school, sometimes it can be helpful to find a one-on-one buddy to support that child for a month or two. Are we implying that the child has some sort of undiagnosed disability? No, of course not. We're just acknowledging that this particular child needs a little extra support to access his Sunday school class, so we're willing to be there. And we've found that this can be more helpful than having a parent stay each week, because (a) often the anxiety is only present once mom or dad leaves and, on a safety note, (b) parents can only stay if they've completed background checks.

My daughter Jocelyn a few years ago with Tyler, who once served as an Access helper

When a toddler or preschooler is having more difficulty sitting still or interacting socially than her peers, sometimes we find a helper for the child or provide some extra training to the teachers to help them serve that child well. Does this mean that the little girl will likely be diagnosed with a special need once she starts school? No. That could happen, but it's not our role to even speculate about that... and we don't want to make that part of our role. We just talk with parents about the behavior we're seeing and offer an extra helper as one possible solution to help the child fully access membership in that class. (Usually in this sort of scenario, the child was technically a member of the class before help was offered but wasn't yet able to truly be involved as a full member and classmate until she had the support she needed.)

In both examples provided above, we continually evaluate the child's needs to decide when the support is no longer needed. It doesn't help the child or the teachers to keep a one-on-one helper in place any longer than necessary.

At the time I originally wrote this post, the special needs community was reeling from the report that the proposed DSM-V criteria for autism spectrum disorders could exclude some who are currently classified, I'm paid attention so that I could be knowledgeable when the families I serve express concern about how this might impact their families.

However, I was never concerned about how the proposed DSM criteria will affect what we do at church each week. We aren't bound by diagnostic criteria. In serving the Lord, we get to serve people, not diagnoses. 

I love that freedom.

in defense of public school teachers

It saddens me that this sort of post is even needed. But when I read the news that 600 teachers have quit in our county this year, I couldn't not write something.

Why? Not because I'm a former public school teacher, though I could certainly take that angle. Not because as I put in on FB when this news first broke:

When you don't pay them a salary anywhere near what they're worth, freeze salary increases, offer no raises for several years in a row, fill every public medium with constant complaints about the work they do, and then have the gall to talk about how nice it must be to have two months off in the summer (nevermind that it's unpaid time off)... well, this is no surprise. It is sad, though.

I have to write something to brag about the amazing team of public school teachers and staff who have loved our family well in the past two years.

Adoption is hard, y'all. Oh, the stories I could break your heart a million times over with! Though it sounds a little cliche, it truly does take a village. I knew our church would rally around us (side note: y'all rock. thank you.) but I never expected our school community to step up as they have.

Blessed doesn't even begin to describe it.

Imagine having a little girl who was homeschooled for preschool enter your kindergarten classroom just 45 days after her life had been turned upside down by the arrival of a cute but demanding little sister from Taiwan and a mere 60 days before her world would shift again with her little brother's diagnosis of epilepsy.

Imagine receiving that same girl one year later and knowing your role wouldn't just be teaching her all that 1st grade includes but also supporting her through a prolonged absence while she traveled with her family to Africa to gain three more siblings.

Imagine being another 1st grade teacher who had a week's notice before the December arrival of a nervous and overwhelmed little girl who didn't speak much English, had only been in the US for two weeks, and knew more about life's hard realities than most adults.

I could go on and on about these three women who have loved us and our children well, as well as the teaching assistants and the ESL teacher and school counselor and assistant principal and principal and front office staff and... well, you get the picture.

So I'll just share one story that Patience's teacher shared with me. She meant it as an illustration of our girl's desire to learn and ask questions and understand the world, but? It struck me as an excellent example of our lengths these folks go for our kids:

During the first week of school for Patience, it rained a lot, as evidenced by the rain jacket in her first-day-of-school pics. 

One day, her teacher was reading them all a book about rain, and during the part in which the girl in the story stomped in rain puddles, Patience raised her hand. 

"What puddle?" she asked.

"Do you know what a puddle is, Patience?" her teacher asked.

Our girl shook her head.

Well, it was raining outside, so her teacher asked a teaching assistant to take over for a few moments, and she walked hand in hand with Patience out of the classroom, down the hall, out in front of the school, and right up to a puddle. 

"This is a puddle," she said. And then she had Patience stomp in it, just like the little girl in the book. 

And then, as if it was nothing out of the ordinary, she walked with Patience back to class and resumed the rest of the instructional day.

These teachers, they are our people. They are for us, for our girls, for our family. They have sustained us in ways I never expected... and it makes me mad that they aren't valued as much as they ought to be.

From the article linked above,

“This is an alarm cry. I need somebody to care, and I need somebody to recognize the problem, and I need the people who can do something about it to listen and respond,” Dr. Jim Merrill, Wake County Schools Superintendent said.

I care. I see the problem. And while I might not be in a position to do something about it, I hope my words will reach those who can.

So I'm going to ask something I almost never ask: would you be willing to share this? Because those who control teacher pay and raises and other supports need to understand the value of what these men and women do on the front lines of our children's lives.

After all, aren't our kids worth fighting for?

P.S. - To all my public school teacher friends, especially the ones pouring into my girls each day, "thank you" doesn't come close... but it's all I can offer. THANK YOU. You are invaluable. I'm so sorry that your paycheck doesn't reflect that. 

5 things I've learned in 7 years of special needs ministry #SpnMin #kidmin #church #specialneeds #adoption

When we started in special needs ministry, our little family looked like this:

Now our family looks a lot different, and no one would call it "little" anymore.

Between those pictures, we have:

• welcomed one child via birth and four via adoption.
• collected a handful of diagnoses: cerebral palsy, HIV, epilepsy, FASD and rheumatoid arthritis.
• tricked a whole bunch of folks into thinking I'm some sort of expert in the field of special needs ministry and adoption, as evidenced by a growing list of national speaking engagements and consulting agreements and freelance writing opportunities and a couple book proposal requests that I'll be all over once I get 15 minutes to myself, which I expect to happen sometime in 2016 once everyone is in school. 

(Y'all realize I'm just a goofy mom of a wild crew of kids who merely wants to see people of all abilities worshiping God together, right? Because I honestly wear other people's drool more naturally than I wear any expert badge. True story.)

In the years between those pictures, we've learned a few things, so without further ado...

5 things I've learned in 7 years of special needs ministry

1. The only time a one-size-fits-all ministry approach worked was on the cross.

On the cross, Jesus took on all our transgressions to defeat sin and death for us because we were all unable to help ourselves. Elsewhere, Jesus treated (and still treats) every person He met as an individual with immeasurable worth and distinctive needs. In all His interactions throughout scripture and among the testimonies of His people now, it's not about broad strokes of sameness. He was and is both personal and relational. 

What a wonderful model for us to follow as we minister to and with people of all abilities!
(Because it's not about programs; it's about people, amen?)

2. I'm not Jesus. Try as I might, I'm going to get it wrong.

The funny thing about being labeled as an "expert" is that our Sunday mornings look a lot like yours. My family often rolls in late, which I consider a win as long as all eight of us are each wearing two shoes, preferably ones meant to be paired together. I might have systems and spreadsheets and such, but working with families affected by disability means a whole lot of surprises and abandoned plans. 

And sometimes? I screw up. Badly. 

But...

3. God's grace is for all of us.

For my daughter with cerebral palsy, and for her two year old buddies who are learning that Zoe's walker isn't a toy or jungle gym for them. For my child with HIV, and for classmates' parents who were initially concerned about the safety of that kid in their children's Sunday school class. For my son with epilepsy, and for the teacher who messaged me right after his first seizure to assure me that she would learn whatever she needed to so that Robbie could be safe in her class. For the people who immediately and warmly welcome those with disabilities and for the ones who are scared or hesitant or just plain mean. For the churches that say "YES!" and the ones that say, "We don't have a place here for your family." 

For me. And for you.  

4. I'm tired of focusing on the negative stories. 

For me, at least, it's time to shift gears and highlight the churches who are loving well instead of pointing fingers at the ones who are learning. Because, really? We're all learning, and because saying, "You're doing it wrong," doesn't build up the church or change attitudes as much as "Let me show you what has worked for us."

5. There is still work to do, but there is much progress worth celebrating.

In seven years, I can't even begin to describe the difference I've seen in the church's response to people with disabilities, not just around the country but right here in Raleigh where I live and serve. That's exciting, y'all! I truly believe the tide is turning and the Spirit is opening hearts and doors so that the church might include all the parts of its body, as laid out in 1 Corinthians 12.

Yes, there's still more to do. But if there wasn't still work to be done, then we'd be chilling with our Savior in heaven. Because on this side of eternity, we'll never be done.

Isn't it wonderful that we have a great provider - GOD! - so it's not all on our shoulders?

How about you? What have you learned in this area of ministry?

In a church setting, how can you support a parent who could be in denial about their child's special needs?

(This post was first published on this blog on January 24, 2012.)

I was 25. My daughter was nine months old. I was constantly in pain, exhausted, and easily irritable, but I was convinced it would get better because I was just adjusting to being a mom. And my husband called me out on my denial and told me it was time to go to the doctor.

That's the short story of how my two chronic health conditions were diagnosed. What I tried to explain away as "being a new mom" turned out to be Hashimoto's thyroiditis and rheumatoid arthritis.

Why am I telling this story in a post about parents who are in denial about their child's special needs? Well, because we can learn from it.


My husband made careful observations before he said anything;
you need to observe the child on multiple days in as many settings as possible.

Lee was positioned well to have observed what was going on with me and acknowledge that something wasn't right. He realized that my issues were constantly occurring and not based on my circumstances.

Are you sure you haven't decided that a parent is in denial about special needs because your information is limited? Maybe you've only seen the child once or twice. Maybe the child has to wake up earlier on Sunday morning and is struggling with that. Maybe the personality or teaching style in that class isn't a good match to the child. Maybe the issue at hand is your assumption and not the child's special needs. Take time to figure that out.

If you still are seeing something different going on...


My husband needed to confront my denial because it was damaging my body and hurting our family;
you need to evaluate if that parent's denial even needs to be addressed.

Sometimes denial really hurts a family. Usually, though, it won't hurt to give them more time. If a child is in danger in any way, say something right away. If no danger is imminent, you probably want to wait and build the relationship more.

Every kid is different. In a church setting, an undiagnosed special need can make teaching more challenging, but is it really a huge problem? Sure, you do want to be honest with parents if there are any troublesome behaviors, but do you want parents to dread seeing you because they never hear anything but bad reports? It is often better to adjust your approach to reach a child's heart rather than trying to fix their behavior to fit your expectations for typical development.


My husband could confront my denial because we had a relationship; 
you can't expect to help parents through their denial without first establishing a relationship.

It's the whole "they don't care how much you know until they know how much you care" principle. I was willing to hear my husband out because he knows me and I know him. Because he knows me well, his concerns were meaningful to me.

If you don't know the parents well, you haven't established the trust required to even suggest that their child might need extra support in a church setting.


My husband was willing to see us through the outcomes of any diagnosis;
you need to be willing, prepared, and available to support your families through their outcomes.

When I received a diagnosis, my husband didn't leave. He didn't get me to that point and then bail on me. He was in it for the long haul, showing that he cared with his actions. You need to realize that the outcome could wrap everything up nicely... or it could reveal ongoing needs. If the needs are ongoing, will the church be there? Will you be willing to provide support and/or make sure others in your church are mobilized to provide that support?

In other words, if you aren't able to assist with a solution, then you're not the right person to say anything.


My husband recognized that my denial meant I was grieving my old life;
you need to let parents grieve too if they need to.

This means letting them move through the stages of grief on their own timetable, not yours. Pray that the Holy Spirit will convict them of the need to move on when His timing is right, and don't try to play God by enforcing your own timetable.

Be patient. Be willing to listen. And be there for them, even if and especially when they're struggling with guilt, despair, or denial.


My husband know he couldn't meet every need and was willing to let the experts do their jobs;
you need to be willing to help parents connect with other resources if necessary.

The church should work to include people with disabilities in the body of Christ. However, my role as special needs ministry coordinator doesn't mean that I have to offer speech therapy, medical consultations, and education consulting to every family. I'm not equipped or qualified for all of that.

Just as my husband was willing to concede that doctors would be more helpful to me in some areas than he could be, you need to realize that the church's primary mission isn't to fill every practical earthly need for our families.


My husband prayed and sought God's wisdom through every step of this process with me;
so should you.

Amen.