Category: Plain People

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Building Successful Support Networks

What became of that Mamma V lady that used to blog?

I recently reconnected with an acquaintance from days gone by, we have writing as a common interest. I was gob-smacked to realize I have not posted since the twins were born. The girls are now 17 months old and developing well. They have had their share of childhood maladies but have come through each one well, by God’s grace.

Another personal update: I am back to school and happily invested in my internship. After a break in my Master of Social Work studies to process my husband’s death and covid in general, I’m back at the books. My alma mater, Lancaster Bible College has started an MSW program and I am thrilled to return there for my studies. I can not recommend it highly enough.

I will complete two internships or field projects. My current one is through HVMI aka HandiVangelism or HandiCamp. I have worked at camps and Bible clubs with this awesome ministry and they are now hosting my project titled Building Successful Support Networks.

woman in red sweater wearing black framed eyeglasses sitting on wheelchair
Photo by Marcus Aurelius on Pexels.com

I am including a description of the project here and would like the questionnaire distributed widely, so please copy and share. The more input I get, the more useful the summary writing will be for everyone.

Questionnaire for BSSNDownload
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The Smell of Death

At last, she returns with a blog from the fog. In 2020 I was stubbornly determined not to write about the pandemic. The same pandemic in which I became a widow. The pandemic I participated in personally right after David’s funeral. One could call it all a breathtaking experience, wreaking havoc with my asthma for several months. My new and potent pulmonary meds made my brain thick with migraine-like fog resulting in my dropping out of graduate school. Even my dog got killed by a hit and run in 2020. Stinkin’ year, that! Still, none of these things moved me to write, I mention them only so my subscribers can feel caught up.

Something I will add that may help the reader map out this leg of my journey is a partial list of the people I have loved and grieved, most young and unexpectedly: My sister Kathleen (she was 18, I was 12); a friend in high school, Diane (abduction and murder); Audrey age 22 (car crash); my parents (ages 69& 71); my brother in law 27 (car crash); my brother Mike 50 (heart attack); my father in law 67 (heart attack); Jethro& Leander ages 7&9 (drowning); Caleb age 14 (accident); David 61 (heart attack). Okay, so you get the idea. With the exception of my parents, these were all sudden deaths, I did not list the friends and loved ones gone after cancer battles and illness or old age. My point is, I have seen a lot of sudden death.

SOMEONE DIED JUST OUTSIDE OF MY CHURCH

Part of the grieving process, or at least for me, is a macabre obsession with death. The length of the phase varies, but I recently had a sort of relapse. It started with the stench of death just outside our urban church building.

If you have lost a loved one, you know the phase; for me, it occurs usually on an overcast day and everything I see or think of follows a trail to the topic of death. The closer the loved one the stronger the suction is into the trap. Everything from sights, songs, to smells kick it off. The most recent episode for me gave me a new conviction to reach out to people about Christ.

As I was coming out of my fog from David’s death and my Covid troubles I was walking into church when I smelled an accident. Around the corner a crowd was gathered and a mangled motorbike was being hauled away. I did not have to wonder what happened, I could smell it. Sparing the details it is a smell any emergency personnel can identify, hot concreate + blood+ flesh. It is the smell of death on the road but it mimics the smell of a mausoleum, only worse. And the smell was right at the doorstep of my church. As I entered the building with the thought of ‘somebody just died out there’ I was soberly hit by notion of all the spiritual death just outside that door.

My pleasant, healing church walls felt miles away from the death going on outside. I was moved to consider what a mission field we were placed in. We get a few people through our doors that are right off the streets, seeking and we try to serve them. That night, however, I was overwhelmed by the strong scent of death just outside our doors and asked God not to take away the burden that the smell caused me. Our churches are in war zones, we can’t always see it, or smell it, but we are there. Lord help us to see, hear, and smell the dying that is going on all around us, let us be disturbed into action.

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The Support Puzzle

In my dictionary, there are seven definitions for the word. Likewise, it means different things to different people. One of the foremost reasons for a support team is to create clear communication during a difficult situation. A good start would be for all involved to define what the word support means to them and what it means in their particular situation. These ideas need to be brought into agreement.

I have seen well-meaning support teams make a situation worse, I have seen well-functioning support teams have an individual walk away from them, the church and even from a godly lifestyle. An important factor for all to keep in mind is that the situation that has called for a team is likely an unsolved puzzle. In fact, it is like a puzzle one gets at a second-hand store or garage sale, you are never quite sure all the pieces are actually in the box (even if it says so on the tag). And like a puzzle, there are times when we think a piece fits someplace, only to find we are mistaken when we find the correct piece or place. And then to add to the challenge, you have several different people viewing the picture from differing angles. Sometimes that means they see something helpful, sometimes it means they are seeing amiss because of their current perspective.

So how can we build teams that are upbuilding and retain the dignity of those involved? Our churches have a level of accountability that is part of our community. The world admires the plain people for our sense of community and mutual aid, and it is a precious part of our heritage we do well to maintain. However, there are few outside our culture that will tolerate the transparency and accountability that is required for this type of community.

If the Apostle Paul had to die to self daily (1 Co. 15:31) then how much more do we need to? And giving up for the good of those around us is a supernatural even that overrides a very natural self-involvement.

And then discernment comes in, how much of me do I give up for another? How much of my uniqueness does the Lord want me to use for the benefit of His church and for His glory?

So, I am throwing out these thoughts to my readers, I would like to gather some input on what support team experience and observation you have had. In the book Holding Out Hope by Byler, Stauffer, and Byler there is a chapter on support teams that gives the input gained at Green Pasture and Philhaven. I would like to do supplemental writing on the topic for our churches and need the views of those who have been involved in support teams in any capacity. I am particularly burdened for those living with mental illness.

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Equal Opportunity

I am asking for some input and discussion here. I need help understanding a double standard that I see in the church. I admit that I do tend to side with the underdog in many issues. But in the context of “What would Jesus do?” , I offer these vignettes to my readers. Something is not adding up and I am trying to figure it out.

Allen is sixteen-years-old, his twin brother Aaron is in the 10th grade and plays trombone in the high school band. Allen goes instead to a day program where his autism is better understood and accommodated for. His frequent seizures and vocal outbursts make a traditional classroom a poor option. He has sensory issues that complicate things when he is in a group setting. Even at church he has a special ‘chill spot’ to go to and unwind if he gets overstimulated. His crossed eyes and stiff movements make it more obvious that he has some special needs. His brain clearly functions differently than Aaron’s. To expect Allen to play the trombone like his brother seems unrealistic.

Cassie is in the hospital again, the voices told her to plant cans of soup in the garden. She was certain it was what she was supposed to do. She had to hide them from her brother-in-law Sam, because she knew he was watching her every move again. Living next door to your younger sister can be a pain- they are always watching and whispering. And now Cassie’s sister comes along and says she has to go to the hospital. Cassie wonders why she has to listen to her 22-year-old sister anyhow! Cassie is 26 and does not need a boss! So, Cassie ran down the street to get away from Sam and Esta when they wanted to take her to the hospital. Then that car almost hit her when she ran through the store parking lot; so people called the police. It just isn’t fair.

Five brains, two of which are not functioning in the usual way. Most people in plain churches would find it inappropriate to hold Allen accountable for his seizures and vocal outbursts. His brain is clearly working on a completely different level. But some would think that Cassie needs to show more submission to her brother in law and to take her medication faithfully. When she fails in these areas the church withholds communion from her. This only feeds into her belief that people are watching her constantly and whispering strange things. And in reality, some probably really are, so how is she to distinguish which voices are real and which are not?

Why do Christians shoot their wounded? Why is one brain malfunction treated more respectfully than another? Please comment!

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A Three Word Sermon

Brother Larry is a man living with quadriplegia and lives in the group home I manage. He has been in a wheelchair since he was 17 years old, he is now 64. Only Joni has a longer record than Larry. The other day he said more in three words than some pastors get done in a whole sermon. Larry’s speech is limited by damage done from the trach he had after his accident. His injury left his body with damage very similar to Cerebral Palsy, so he can be hard to understand. But this message was crystal clear.

  • Larry Deck full of joy in Christ with his good friend Jonathon

After supper each night we have a time of group devotions. One evening the topic was about being weary of our trials and earthly situations. One resident commented on how weary she was of her suffering and how she thought so much of Heaven. Another resident commented that surely Larry gets weary at times, knowing he has been dependent on others for everything for the past 47 years. It was Larry’s reply that sent everyone to thinking, mostly because we all know it is so true. He said:

“Weary, but happy.”

So true. So well said. So well lived.

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Some Reasons I Love My Church

I was thinking about some of the ordinances my church practices and was filled with fresh appreciation. Many of these biblical practices have faded away in most churches, I am blessed to be with a group that has kept them alive and led by the Holy Spirit.

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Photo by John-Mark Smith on Pexels.com

Historically, the conservative Anabaptists have been known for upholding such things as foot-washing, the holy kiss, women’s head veiling, and anointing. From a contemporary standpoint, I appreciate them more and more as secular culture seems to leak into the church so easily.

Even in my congregation, the Holy kiss is fading off. My concern is that if we regard it as a social custom, we will soon view the covering as the same thing. So many churches already do. We take foot washing very seriously, and I am glad. It means so much more than a ceremony of going through the motions. You have to really stop and think about why we do it. And if we are really paying attention, we can work the concept into our everyday lives as we live to imitate our Servant Savior, Jesus Christ.

During my 20-year  journey with chronic pain and illness, my gratitude for anointing really grew. As complications and detours came along, I could relax in knowing that each one had come through the permitting Hand of my Father. I also gained a keener awareness that my journey was also a gift to my church. The act of anointing not only invited God’s hand into my medical situation, but it also gave the church body an opportunity to enter into it and reap the blessings and tears right along with me. I have never felt so ‘un-lonely’ in my life!

The fact that I wear a head covering is a testimony in itself that I believe it to be more than ‘just a tradition’. If there is interest, I will write about that transition in another blog soon. Thirty years ago, I felt I was the only woman in the county that did it. Last year I met a sister that lived on the other side of that very same county that was going through the same thing at the same time. Our paths never crossed until last year.

I would love to hear your thoughts on these topics or other things you would like to read about here. Please leave a comment and share what these things mean to you.

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Our First Amish Church Sevice

We accepted Steve’s offer to attend an Amish church service. He really wanted us to understand the cultural and language issues that he had dealt with. We went to Catholic mass on one Sunday, and the next week we visited an Amish service in Holmes County. This meant a two-hour drive with four small children at 5 a.m. on a Sunday morning. That was the beginning of a monthly routine for us, We never went back to the local Catholic church, and apparently, they didn’t miss us much either,

We stopped at a rest area to ‘freshen up’ and feed the children and then went to Steve and Edith’s house. From there we walked with them to the next place down the road, a quarter mile or so. Our children were ages 1-6 and I was expecting #5.  I remember enjoying the fact that we were not considered a large family. In our home area we were regarded with amazement or as ignorant for having “sooooo  many kids”. Among the Amish, we were a small family.46641093_10217734440657868_7448061895057080320_o

Church is held in homes and each family takes a turn hosting. This time it was held in a large open basement. The men and boys gather near or in a barn and the ladies go into the house or shop where services are held. Our coats were piled on a table and then the greeting began. Observing the holy kiss (Ro. 16:16, 1 Co. 16:20, 2 Co. 13:12,1 Th. 5:26) the ladies greet each other with a kiss and a blessing. The men greet each other as they arrive also. This is practiced among church members only, Edith would introduce me and I would receive a welcoming handshake. This particular group was very warm and friendly. They showed curiosity, but in a positive and down to earth way. Not all groups are like that, some groups stare soberly having no idea that it would be considered rude or uncomfortable to someone outside their culture. This congregation, and the New Order in general, were very open and pleasant. Socially they were warm and the light of Christ could not be missed. I had been among friendly and welcoming groups before, but this was different, like the tip of a deep iceberg, not polite social decorum. Later I would realize it was fruit of the Holy Spirit.

Edith was an excellent leader and walked me through everything. My fussy baby made me a bit nervous, he was on the loud side when he was not happy. This proved only to draw compassion and understanding from the mothers. I can still picture the pile of coats on the table. I wondered how they found their wraps when they were all black and identical. And atop the black mound, my eyes could not avoid the screaming red coat that was my daughter’s. Try as I would to ignore it, I could not.

We were warned that the service was in German. Steve had learned the language very well, but it took ten years. I remember who preached, a big man with a booming voice. I recall thinking, ‘I have no clue what that man is saying, but if I hadn’t already repented and come to Christ, I’d do it now’. And this is where things become completely subjective: somehow we knew, both us, that the Holy Spirit was present there. It is not something one can describe or explain, but most Christians experience it at some point. We knew. WE KNEW.

On the drive home, David told me that he really felt like we belonged with these people. I wasn’t sure what to make of it because he was strongly against leaving the Catholic church prior to that. And within the next week came the defining moment for me. David said, ” I’ve been thinking, and I don’t think we can stay in the Catholic church and obey the scriptures at the same time”. I was stunned at his 180-degree turnaround. He was not saying anything against that church, he was speaking on a personal level. Maybe others could, but we could not. We never went to mass again, when we were not visiting  Holmes County for church, we attended a Mennonite service closer to home.

That week I also went out and got my daughter a dark colored coat.

The photo is not our family, it is an Old Order family from Lancaster County. Photographer Doug Hoover respectfully takes only candid shots of Amish people and avoids their faces. Adults especially. Check out his work at:

https://fineartamerica.com/profiles/doug-hoover.html?fbclid=IwAR0JEIpSwbHcJsGvxIEjvc6HVnILH_PT2txJfp4FA281hiDuaUMDGw1pCyU

 

 

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Gone Buggy III

That Tuesday night with Lester and Steve in 1989 was a warm August night. One question we had was the difference between Old Order and New Order Amish. We would later learn that we were very typical ‘seekers’ (people from other upbringings that seek a deeper understanding of the Anabaptist faith) that assume that the most conservative the church, the purer and holier it must be. So those using outhouses and open buggies would likely be the ‘real thing’ and we were suspicious of this term New Order. What we saw before us that night threw such misconceptions right out the window. I will try to explain it the way these two men did, but I seriously doubt I can relay the tone in which this information was shared. And this attitude was something we saw over and over again in the New Order.

DH two buggies black and white

Photo by Douglas Hoover

About 25 years before, some of the Old Order brethren were concerned about the practice of ‘rumspringa’ and some of the fruits this custom was bearing. In 1989, the term was not well known outside of the plain people. They explained specifically, tactfully, briefly, and lovingly, which customs were alarming and why. A few families decided to offer the youth an alternative to sewing their wild oats: Bible studies and orderly hymn singings. This was met with resistance by those who felt that what has worked for generations should not be tampered with. Custom and tradition are strong bonding agents and they were fiercely defended in this case. During the process of people expressing their opinions, two distinct views surfaced. The group holding the Bible studies thought that the most peaceful and respectful thing to do was to start separate church districts. They were called New Order. Steve and Lester did not go on and on about the evils of rumspringa, nor speak condescendingly or unkindly about those who stayed with the Old Order. They spoke of how hard this was on extended families and showed absolutely no disdain or guile. We found the same manner when we learned to know more of the people in the New Order Churches. We also noticed that of all the plain churches we visited, this was the only plain fellowship that did not tell us what was wrong with all the other plain groups or why their way was better. That had a strong impact on us.

New Order is a German-speaking church and follows the same worship customs in church services. Some changes have been made but they are not generally noticed by those outside of the denomination. The doctrine of the early Anabaptists is upheld in both groups. New Order uses horse and Buggy, at that time most did not use electricity in their homes and any changes were subtle.46914946_10217752818317298_1521604478002790400_o

The warmth we felt in this group was clearly of God, and God was clear in opening the doors for us to join this fellowship. Looking back we can see that He had it all planned out. I will always give my husband David credit and respect for being open to God’s voice and leading our family into a deeper more obedient walk in the Lord.

So Let’s hear YOUR  thoughts and questions now:

  • German Language
  • Giving Up the Vehicle
  • Parents Reaction
  • Culture Shock
  • Hindsight
  • Warnings For Others

Please comment below!