Speak Out!

These “snippets” from persons with disabilities or their family members about the pastoral care they receive were compiled by Marilyn Clark, Presbyterians for Disability Concerns (PDC) Leadership Team.

I have had good and bad care. Sometimes I do not think pastors have time or the experience to help with mental health issues. When I ask questions about where is God and why can I not find him I get, “Just wait until your medications are working.” It is hard to find a support group that deals with mental health and faith. The one positive thing a minister told me once was that when I cannot sing or pray at worship there is someone there singing and praying for me without my having to ask. And maybe at some point I will be the one singing and praying for someone who can’t.

The first Sunday we went to a new church we felt it. It was nothing you could touch physically. It was a warmth and openness that was amazing. It was not the kind of “pushy” or overbearing kind of friendliness. It was a true love and caring environment. The second Sunday at that same church there was a small footstool in front of my husband’s chair where we sat the previous week in the front row. A woman came over and asked, “Does this work for you?” She did not want to make an assumption either. We were pleased and grateful, as it was important for him to have his legs supported. We are short stature people and my husband has severe arthritis. Some quiet angel in the congregation sensed a need and just addressed it. That footstool is still there, years later. That was the beginning of a wonderful church relationship.

My Dad had open-heart surgery at a distant hospital several years ago. Three days after his surgery he had a stroke. The family had gone home by that time so I needed someone there who knew my parents and me and could provide spiritual care. I called a minister friend. He had been the minister at my home church when I was growing up and knew my parents well. Not only did he visit my Dad while he was in the ICU but he and his wife came on Christmas Eve, singing carols and ministering to everyone in his room in the step down unit. He continued to visit my Dad while he was on the VA rehab unit. He was, and is, a godsend.

During the past several years my vision has degenerated and my home church has been there for me. The bulletin is mailed to me each week so I can read it on my PC or enlarge the text and print it out for Sunday. At meetings I am asked if I would like the material in large print. My husband and I have been involved at the little white church in many capacities over the years, Sunday school teacher, children’s worship leader, clerk of session and the list goes on. My church is truly a “Body” of Christ, one body with many parts. We all have our roles to play, no matter how big or small that role may be. We are all needed to keep God’s church running. I Thank God for sending us to a safe haven for ALL God’s children. A place where everyone can “Bloom where they are planted.” It may be a little church, but it has a very BIG heart!