Lamar Hardwick's Blog, page 13

My Top 10 Sensory Overload Environments

Sensory Overload is one of my greatest autism related struggles. While I’ve learned to manage multiple environments, I’ve discovered over the years there are certain places that withdraw enormous amounts of energy from my sensory bank.

In most cases I am able to manage these environments for a short period of time, usually 2-3 hours, but the effects can often leave me incapacitated for a day or two.

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Below is my top 10 places/environments that have the potential to push me into sensory overload.

Outdoor concerts

Amusement parks

Outdoor sporting events

Bowling alleys/arcades

Indoor water parks

Airports

Indoor sporting events

Church

Conferences (with lots of people)

Indoor music concerts

The common theme for many of these environments are sudden changes in sound volume, intensity, and pitch. Screaming, clapping, and certain musical instruments can be overwhelming. In addition a combination of smells and lighting issues can also be challenging.

That’s my list. What yours?

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Pastors, Here’s how to be a shepherd to special needs families in your church. — Key Ministry

David’s words about how God shepherded him have become my model for

pastoral ministry to the special-needs community. Pastors, here are four

things to consider when pastoring special-needs families through moments in

the valley.

— Read on www.keyministry.org/church4everychild/2018/11/1/pastors-heres-how-to-be-a-shepherd-to-special-needs-families-in-your-church

Lamar Hardwick, Autistic Adult, Responds to ‘You Look Tired’ | The Mighty

Lamar Hardwick, adult with autism spectrum disorder, explains how pretending to fit in with the neurotypical world makes him tired and exhausted.

— Read on themighty.com/2015/10/lamar-hardwick-autistic-adult-responds-to-you-look-tired/

Building Better Banquets: How To Prioritize Special-Needs Ministry In Your Church — Key Ministry

When church leadership is approached about the need to create environments

that can serve the needs of the disability and special-needs community, the

most common response is a lack of education and lack of resources. In other

words, there is no room in the budget, no room in the mission, no room in

the vision of the church, and no room for discussion about disability

theology.

— Read on www.keyministry.org/church4everychild/2018/10/4/building-better-banquets-how-prioritize-special-needs-ministry-in-your-church

Learning To Love Limits

Life without limits sounds exciting, but limits are a gift. Limits are a guide that points us to our greatest potential. Without limits, we become overloaded. To protect our

potential, we need spiritual, mental, and emotional margins.

“Emotional overload saps our strength, paralyzes our resolve, and maximizes our vulnerability, leaving the door open for even further margin erosion.” 3

Learning to be strong ultimately means learning to live within our human limitations. When Paul exposes us to his ongoing struggle with his “thorn,” he points us to a truth we often ignore—we are at our strongest when we identify where our weaknesses begin. We all struggle with this in ways so profound that we have yet to discover the depths to which this idea affects us. In many ways, we have created a new sense of what it means to be human without realizing that our quest for unlimited resources, unlimited access, and unlimited strength has created an unrealistic expectation of what it means to be human.

We have dehumanized ourselves, giving ourselves a false sense of importance and yet at the same time making ourselves nothing special at all. The world we live in now has unfortunately made it easy for people to ignore their own pain and suffering.

The world we have created continues to make it easier for people to ignore limits, limits that often save us from hurting ourselves beyond healing. Hopelessness is the product of the gradual dehumanization of humanity. When we ignore the limits of our own human capacity, we lack the ability look beyond ourselves for the strength, love, and security found in a relationship with God and a relationship with one another.

When Paul comes to grips with his “thorn,” he makes an assumption that the purpose of the thorn is not to give him pain but to keep him from becoming proud. What if our limits are a gift from God that keeps us mindful of our inability to be totally self-sufficient? What if our proverbial thorns are designed to do exactly what Paul suggests his did, prevent us from the trap of pride that eats away at our humanity? [image error]

For years, I lived an unrealistic life that pushed me well beyond my human limitations, and it resulted in my slowly becoming more and more disconnected from the real me. The most troubling part of living this way is that I had spent so much time chipping away at my own humanity that I began to struggle to see the humanity in others. If I was going to attempt to be something more than human, I expected others to attempt it, too. If I was going to ignore my limits, I fully expected others to push themselves beyond what is human.

The problems we face in our current culture can often be rooted in this very issue. This one is bigger than just me wrestling with characteristics associated with autism, this is about the human insistence on becoming bigger than our boundaries.

When we forget that we are human, we forget that we are human. When we dismiss our own humanity, we create a breeding ground for all sorts of heinous acts against humanity.

We teach ourselves and our children not to feel. We teach ourselves and our children to do away with our basic human instinct to have compassion and empathy for the weak and oppressed.

We teach ourselves and our children to ignore our duty to the world around us.

The absence of boundaries breeds a culture that lacks humility, and a lack of humility always results in a lack of humanity.

From my book I am Strong: The Life and Journey of An Autistic Pastor

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Purchase your copy today!

Six Reasons Pastors Silently Struggle

*(This post has not been edited for grammar. These are my raw and honest emotions)

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For nearly 20 years I have dedicated my life to pastoral ministry. I haven’t always been what some would consider a full-time pastor, but that term itself is part of the struggle. I currently lead a great church filled with great people in a great little city and I am truly blessed. The last eight years of my life and ministry have been an incredible journey and I am thankful for every single moment of it even when I am challenged by my choice to follow my calling.

I often blog about how autism impacts my life, family, and ministry and in the past I have openly shared how I continue to manage my own periodic walks through the valley of mild depression, but today in light of losing yet another pastor to this battle that so many of us face, I want to share a few reasons why the struggle is so significant for many pastors and church leaders.

Depression and anxiety are real challenges for many people. Pastors are no different. Pastors are normal people just like the person in the pew next to you, yet pastors can struggle in ways that are unique to their vocation.

I love the local church. Like many pastors whose only desire is to be true to their calling, I have given more than half of my still young life to serving the church and to serving our community, but the reality that most people will never know is that our calling comes with a hefty price tag.

The writer of Hebrews pens the reality of this work when saying ”

….Their work is to watch over your souls, and they are accountable to God.” (Hebrews 13:17 NLT)

This. Is. Heavy. Our work is not merely as public speakers and personal life coaches, we are called to bear the weight of watching over the souls of our congregations.

Granted there are some pastors who are in the business of ministry for the wrong reasons. Some are driven by fame, fortune, and even the fear of failing, but the vast majority of pastors are good men and women who fear only God and want nothing more than to be true to their calling of caring for and watching over the souls of those that they have been blessed with the opportunity to serve.

But watching over souls can make one weary. In fact the word that the writer uses for watch over literally means “without sleep.” That means that when a pastor is following their calling, he or she can become weary because there is no such thing as a part-time or full-time pastor. There are no office hours. Watching over souls is serious business and as the writer suggests, we are accountable to God.

I love the local church. Those who know me well know that I am an apologist for the local church. The church belongs to Jesus. Jesus promised and predicted that he would build his church and I am grateful for the influence of the church in my life and in the world. The local church is the vehicle that Jesus chose to bring reconciliation, justice, love, and grace to the world. When the church is active in a community, the community is better.

We recently lost a pastor in California to self-inflicted injuries. I do not know him personally, but I weep for his family, his church, and his community. I don’t know his story other than what his church and family have publicly shared, but I do know a version of his story that I will own and be transparent about.

I am not in any way implying that the church is the only contributing factor that led to the end of his life. His family has been clear about his struggle with depression and anxiety, two challenges that I am intimately familiar with. Yet at the same time a discussion should be had about the role that pastoring and caring for the souls of others has on our ability to speak up about the internal challenges that we face.

I can not speak for all pastors so I will speak for myself and for those whom I personally know struggle with remaining silent with their own struggles while watching over the souls of others. These are just a few reasons I have struggled (and continue to struggle in some ways) with sharing and maybe just maybe we can have a real conversation absent of platitudes and pseudo psychology, and just get to the heart of why many pastors are hurting.

Secrets

Pastors are trained and encouraged to be shelters for secrets. Sure we have our own, but most pastors carry the secrets of people who have confided in them. We value confidentiality. It is one of the few tools in our pastoral tool belt that helps us to earn the trust of the people we are called to lead. We know the real reason that you haven’t seen that family in a while. We know the marriages that aren’t healthy. We know the issues that your children have. We know who is struggling with addiction. We know when the bills are not getting paid. We know when giving is low. We know that we may not make payroll this week. We know why that program was cut. We know who is cheating, lying, drinking too much, abusing drugs, mistreating their spouse, and threatening to leave the church. We know what people say about us behind our backs, and yet we say nothing because we are shelters for secrets. When you live that kind of life it becomes extremely difficult to share your own struggles. Most pastors are drowning in so many secrets that they can’t find the strength to share their own. I have literally had periods in my life when I have forgotten how hurt I was about something or how I was struggling with an issue simply because I was being suffocated by everyone else’s secrets. Sometimes pastors carry so many secrets that their own secrets become secondary and subsequently silenced by the secrets of others.

Separation of church and faith

Pastors are often vulnerable to the influence of the church in their personal life and faith. I am guilty of this and I will openly admit that I don’t really have an answer to fix it.  I call it the curse of leadership. When you’re out front your back is exposed. You’re vulnerable and good leaders don’t spend time trying to protect themselves because putting up walls doesn’t protect you it poisons you. Yet when you are totally open to the influence of the church and those you lead you run the risk of allowing your faith to be undeservedly dictated by the status of the church. I have found myself at times struggling immensely with my own faith when the church is not going well. The problem is that our faith should have the freedom to stand on its own over and against the success or failure of the church. Pastors carry a unique burden because we worship where we work. I can’t explain it, but for pastors Sunday’s are not the time that we have the chance to check our cares at the door. When most people show up on a Sunday they show up from their week day environments and visit the church environment for a few hours. Pastors live here, if not literally, we live there spiritually, emotionally, and mentally. There is little to no separation between the church and our personal faith and this makes it difficult to manage our own spiritual and mental well-being.

Salary

Outside of those who have large churches with large budgets, most pastors simply don’t have the resources needed to adequately manage the self-care that we are taught and encouraged to have. Most churches are not mega churches and most pastors do not have health coverage, retirement benefits, or paid vacation time. Seeing a counselor and taking frequent breaks is something that all pastors should do, but many simply can’t afford to do it. Pastors that are bi-vocational are often challenged with juggling multiple jobs and responsibilities in addition to watching over the souls of their congregation. The reality that we must face together is that church work creates stress in pastor’s lives that their salaries can’t support.

Shame and Stigma

Watching over the souls of others is spiritually and emotionally draining.  When you think about the actual weight of being asked to engage in the critical work of soul care for others you realize that pastors are asked to carry the mantle of a calling that has eternal implications. Pastors live in the land of extreme emotional highs and intense emotional lows, yet to say it out loud is only seen as a tool to be considered “authentic” by others and not as a real cry for help. One of the reasons why many pastors share their struggles only on a surface level is that there is still a culture of shame and stigma in the church. Many pastors struggle in silence because they are ashamed to publicly admit that they are not the people you see on the stage or in the pulpit. They are burdened and broken.  They are ashamed to say that they are not okay. They are embarrassed to admit that they are scared and lonely. I can honestly say that in my nearly 20 years of ministry I have spent many Sunday’s preaching about a faith that I didn’t have in the moment. Like the prophet Elijah hiding in a cave, many preachers do an incredible job of being used by God publicly while privately begging God to end their suffering. Why won’t we share this? Because it is embarrassing.

Suspicion

The work of the pastor and preacher is not to ignite the faith of God’s people, it is in fact the work of eroding the suspicions of God’s people. Most people won’t admit this. Many others probably have never noticed it. The work of faith is the erosion of suspicion. The church by nature is rife with suspicion, and that’s actually a good thing. We want people to bring their doubts and fears through the doors of the church. We want our communities to be places where people can wrestle with their faith in ways that help to erode their suspicions about the Bible, about God, and about church. People are suspicious of the church, of the Bible, of God, of requests to give and serve, and people are suspicious of each other. This is the work of soul care, to help naturally suspicious communities of people become more trusting of God, the teachings of Jesus, and the need to submit our will to God’s greater plan. The challenge for most pastors is that in communities that invite suspicion, the first or only moment that something confirms their suspicion the pastor becomes the face and the church becomes the culprit. If the pastor makes a mistake, makes a decision that doesn’t pan out, or has one moment of being anything less than pastorally perfect, people’s hearts are reset to their default mode which is suspicion. I have personally encountered this throughout my years of pastoral ministry. People are suspicious of what you decide, how you decide it, who you decide it with, when you decide it, why you made that decision. When the pastor is not present at the church for any reason people become suspicious. People vote with their feet and their wallets and something as simple as people not showing up to church when the pastor is on vacation only reinforces the culture of suspicion. While we want communities where the culture is curiosity, living and leading as the constant source and target of an entire communities suspicions can be an emotional and mental weight that pastors silently struggle with.

Symptoms

Most pastors honestly do not know the signs and symptoms of depression and anxiety. When I was completing my doctoral work I came to this harsh realization when a professor challenged us with being able to identify when we were approaching burn out. Most pastors love what they do. They love people. They love their churches and their communities and honestly when you love serving you have a hard time drawing lines, creating healthy boundaries, and doing ministry with margin. I have been guilty of this and I continue to struggle with this. Many pastors assume they just need a Sunday off, or to go to a conference to be inspired, or to join a small group where they can share their secrets and “keep it real”, but seminary didn’t prepare me to be able to recognize when I’m depressed and need help and possibly even medication. Just four years ago, after years of silently struggling with trying to pastor beyond my human limitations, I finally broke down and sought help only to discover that I was autistic. I wasn’t just weird, or weak, or wrong. I was human and my humanity was not something to hide, but rather something to protect. When pastors don’t know the signs and symptoms, and they don’t have language to describe their silent struggles they push beyond their human limitations. I have been guilty of eating this fruit time and time again, you know the fruit that says “if you consume this you will be just like God.” The problem is that I am learning that God never asked me to make my primary pursuit to be like him because that would make me more than human. No, his request is for me to be with him so that I can be human and still be his.

Pray for your pastor. Care for them. Check on them. Protect them.

They are human and they need your help.

-pastor L

www.keyministry.org/church4everychild......

www.keyministry.org/church4everychild/2018/6/7/how-to-handle-the-stress-of-special-needs-ministry

Our Churches Are Incomplete If People with Disabilities Don’t Have Opportunities to Serve — Key Ministry

Making the shift from doing ministry for persons with disabilities to doing

ministry with persons with disabilities can be done in three simple ways.

— Read on www.keyministry.org/church4everychild/2018/7/12/our-churches-are-incomplete-if-people-with-disabilities-dont-have-opportunities-to-serve

Four Characteristics of Church Environments Ready to Welcome Special-Needs Families — Key Ministry

I have found that there are four characteristics of churches that already

have the type of environment that can over time serve as a foundation for

building a solid special-needs ministry for families who need their

support.

— Read on www.keyministry.org/church4everychild/2018/8/9/characteristics-of-church-environments-ready-to-welcome-special-needs-families

Autism Parents: Why Forcing Social Interaction On Your Child Could Be A Costly A Mistake

Trigger Warning: Abuse, Sexual Assault, PTSD

What I am about to share is perhaps one of the most honest and transparent pieces I have written to date. It is not easy to do, but I believe it is necessary and my hope and prayer is that as you read the words of this post you can use my story as a cautionary tale. To be clear I am not looking for sympathy as my story isn’t unique, but rather I am hoping to shed light on a topic that often goes undiscussed in the autism community.

Just a few days ago (June 5th), I celebrated my 40th birthday. I am grateful for making it this far and I am fortunate to have such a great support system and have grown up in a great home with two loving parents and three awesome siblings.

I was only recently diagnosed with ASD at age 36, just four years ago. After years of silently struggling I was diagnosed with Aspergers and with that knowledge I have spent the last four years untangling the complicated beautiful mess that is my life, but if I were to be completely honest, there are parts of that mess that I am still untangling and still haunted by.

I share the age and context of my diagnosis because it is important to know that neither myself nor my parents and family were aware of my ASD. My diagnosis didn’t change who I am and who I have always been, but it did confirm much of what I have always struggled with and further explained so much of why and how I have had to live life wearing a mask and pretending to be someone who I was not comfortable being.

Among all of the masks that I have been encouraged to wear over the years, the most frightening is the mask of being unafraid of social interaction. To this day I still wear it well but it is only because I am realizing the effects of having to wear it so long. To appear to be unafraid is to fear having an actual voice and a choice about what I do, who I do it with, and when I do it.

Autism is widely defined as a social communication disorder and while there are several other aspects to autism, the aspect that I want to focus on in this piece is the social aspect. Among all of the perceived deficiencies of autism social interaction seems to be the one that parents and practitioners spend the most time attempting to helping our children overcome.

I believe there is a place for assisting our children with the skills and tools to overcome some social barriers but as I am growing older and more reflective of my own journey living with an undiagnosed developmental disability, I am increasingly concerned that our attempts to help our children overcome their fear of social interaction my be placing them in danger. Some fear(s) may be appropriate. Some fear(s) may need to be refined but not removed.

Adults can sometimes overlook the very simple and subtle ways that we encourage our typical children to overcome their fear of interaction with others, and for those with children on the spectrum the felt need to force them into social interaction can be even more costly.

When children are young we unknowingly teach them to relinquish agency over their own feelings, instincts, and bodies by forcing them to engage in situations that may be unnatural and uncomfortable for them.

Give grandma a kiss. Sit on Santa’s lap. Give your aunt a hug. Say hi to the nice lady. Shake hands with this man. Share a bed with your cousin. Hold your sister’s hand. Take a picture with your grandpa.

Most of these actions are harmless unless you have a child that has a natural aversion to forced social interaction. Every moment that a child with ASD is forced to interact socially in ways that are anxiety provoking and uncomfortable for them inadvertently teaches them to override their ability to choose and to override personal agency over their bodies.

What we teach them is to ignore what makes you uncomfortable and acquiesce to the needs, desires, and intentions of others who have the right to invade your mental, emotional, and physical space for their enjoyment and pleasure. It teaches our children to wear the mask of being unafraid of social interaction even when they are internally uncomfortable with how their space and body are being used by others.

Parents often miss this. Predators however do not. There is a reason why children and adults with disabilities are more likely to be sexually abused and I believe that one of the greatest contributing factors is that many persons with disabilities are often placed in the predicament of having little to no agency over their own bodies.

As a young child I was sexually abused by the older sibling of a neighbor. This person introduced me to pornography and other adult content and took advantage of me. This happened when I was just 6 or 7 years old. There are only a handful of people who know this tragic part of my story. No, I wasn’t diagnosed with ASD, but predators know which children to pick. They know that children who have been taught to deny their own instincts and to relinquish agency over their own body are perfect targets.

That was me and while I in no way blame my parents or my family, I am now consciously aware of the how the stage was set for me to surrender. While I may not have had a choice on the surrender of my body simple because I was too young to defend myself, I was taught by society to surrender my voice in speaking up about it because I was taught by society to relinquish agency over my own body. I was taught that my body was not my own to decide what to do, who to do it with, and when to do it. I said nothing because I was taught that nothing was wrong with someone else using my body without my consent. I said nothing because society taught me that there was nothing wrong with what happened to me.

Like many children on the spectrum, I was taught to override my fear of social interaction, of unwarranted and inappropriate touch, and uncomfortable conversation all in the name of making me more socially acceptable to society. If you’re going to fit in, you must get over your fear of interacting with people.

But some fear(s) are meant to keep us safe. Some fear(s) should be refined but never removed.

As a 40-year-old man I still live with the trauma of being unintentionally taught to surrender my space and my body to a societal structure that demands that I remain silent about the types of interactions that make me uncomfortable.

The truth of the matter is that it doesn’t get any easier the older you grow. Every time I am socially pressured to shake a hand, or hug someone, or take a picture spontaneously, or answer a phone call, or chat with someone without warning or without it being my choice I have to relive the trauma of allowing the world to dictate to me how my body should be available for the use and pleasure of those around me.

I can not change my troubled past and I am working on my current healing but my word of caution, concern, and care to parents of children with ASD is to consider the cost of insisting and persisting in making our children fit in socially.

I know that it is not socially acceptable for them not to hug their relatives, or sit on grandma’s lap, or to take a family photo, or spend the night with a cousin, or give your father a kiss.

I know that it is sometimes viewed as being socially awkward when they don’t feel like talking, or laughing, or interacting but sometimes we have to learn to surrender to what may not be subjectively acceptable so that we don’t haphazardly surrender them over to abuse that is sinful and socially reprehensible.

I know we want to empower our children but if we must empower them for society, educate and empower them to know that they have a choice and that they have a voice in what they do with their bodies, when they do it, and who they do it with even it makes other people uncomfortable with them.

Protect our children.

Blessings

Pastor L #autismpastor

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