Lamar Hardwick's Blog, page 14

The Bill Comes Due

One of my greatest struggles is with sensory processing. Sounds, smells, touch, can all be super invasive and having a weekend like I just had is brutal. In order to do what I do I have to be willing to violate the natural order of my brain and body. No matter how unaffected you think I am by ASD, my success comes at a hefty price. The bill always comes due. Always.

#timetopayup

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Running With Rebels: The One Thing That Can Make You Great.

A few days ago, someone I consider a good friend, asked a question that has been haunting me since the moments my eyes landed on the text. His question was simple yet profound.

“What qualifies someone to be the greatest at something?”

Honestly, like most people, my mind immediately wandered into two areas where the argument of greatness normally takes place, sports and entertainment.

While I appreciate a great debate about who is the best athlete of all time in their sport or who is the best rapper of all time, after a few days of not being able to answer the question outside of those two contexts, I was forced to ask myself the question

“No matter what the genre, discipline, or occupation what is the one quality that all great men and women possess?”

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In my world, the measure of greatness is much more difficult to assess. As a pastor, author, and autism advocate, greatness is far more subjective than statistics . It is true that over the years the church has subtly succumbed to the seduction of statistics to measure greatness. We have elevated those who have the largest attendance, speak at the most conferences, and sell the most books, but it seems as though that those facts and figures may very well be more of the results of greatness than the measure of it.

I would be disingenuous if I pretended that I did not want to see some of those results myself. I would like to sell more books, and as a pastor I would love to reach more people in my community and to see our church grow, but that’s not anywhere near the top of my list of motivations for doing what I do on a daily basis.

Yet, I still want to be great at what I do not for the attention but for the impact. I would love nothing more than one day to be considered one of the G.O.A.T.’s of my generation. (G.O.A.T. Is an acronym for greatest of all time, a term generally used in sports debates)

After several days of trying to answer my friend’s question it dawned on me that there is one single quality that describes greatness and it has less to do with results than it does resolve.

Goats are by nature extremely stubborn. G.O.A.T.’s are rebels.

In the book of Judges there is a story of a guy named Jephthah, who despite being born into the world with insurmountable obstacles to face, rose to become one of the greatest Judges in Israel’s history. Jephthah was known to be a great warrior, in fact the very first sentence of his story describes him as such but that statement was obviously made in hindsight. No one is born a great fighter, just as no one is born great. Greatness is a designation that is more of a description of what we observe about our athletes, entertainers, and world leaders.

Like many of us Jephthah was born into a precarious situation. His mother was a prostitute which in his day carried negative connotations for both of his parents and for him. In fact, his step brothers ran him out of town and declared that although he was the oldest child, he would never have access to their father’s inheritance.

“So Jephthah fled from his brothers and lived in he land of Tob. Soon he had a band of worthless rebels following him.” (Judges 11:3 NLT)

Burdened by the fact that he was born into something that he could not control, Jephthah was ousted from his family and his financial future and eventually found himself running with a group of rebels, but it was his team of rebels that catapulted him into greatness.

You see, when Israel eventually found themselves facing a threat that they were not equipped to handle, they had to reverse course on their attitude toward Jephthah and plead with him and his band of rebels to help them fight off their enemies.

“Aren’t you the ones who hated me and drove me from my father’s house? Why do you come to me now when you’re in trouble?’

“Because we need you,” the elders replied.

Living with a disability of any kind can be a daunting task. Many times people take for granted the amount of energy and effort that I have to pour into every day and every encounter just to succeed. Like Jephthah I often feel as though I was born into a situation that I can not control and the very nature of my birth often positions me on the outside of society, not physically but socially and many times when it relates to the church, spiritually and theologically.

“In a society where denial of our particular bodies and questing for a better body is “normal,” respect for our own bodies is an act of resistance and liberation.” -Nancy Eisland

Everyone wants to be great, but no one wants to be different. We want to be what we perceive others  are especially if we consider them great. We want to sound like, look like, eat like, drive like, and live like those who are G.O.A.T.’s. We want the results of greatness without understanding the reality that the resolve to be great doesn’t come with the desire to conform, G.O.A.T.’s are great because they run with rebels.

Much of my life is spent rebelling systems, thought processes, and procedures that are all designed to work against the way that I was born. I often say that I live in a world that my brain isn’t built for. Every system from employment to leadership opportunities leans toward those who have the social significance and stamina that I do not possess. It’s a burden, but in that burden was born the seed for being great.

Everyday I rebel against my own body and mind, a body that can barely handle sensory input and a mind that constantly tries to cause me to manufacture and maintain the status quo, which many times challenges both my need for comfort and the felt need to make those around me more comfortable. Often times those with disabilities shoulder the burden of fitting into a world that was designed without us in mind. As pastor I know this well. It is a sobering reality and yet my response to this reality as it stands is to be a warrior. My response is to be a rebel.

Rebels make great warriors and great leaders because rebels resist reality. Every dreamer and visionary is a rebel who was born with obstacles to overcome, critics to silence, and a call to be a reformer.
Rebels are those who see the world as it is and refuse to believe that we have done enough, gone far enough, loved enough, and fought hard enough.
Rebels are liberators. They are lovers of the future and constant critics of the present. They are freedom fighters, those whose mission is to serve those who voices are missing.
Rebels are leaders because they are willing to leave behind the safety of sameness and sacrifice their own lives for the cause of something greater.

The nation needed Jephthah not because he was born a great warrior but rather because he became a great warrior because of how he as born. He was the G.O.A.T. because he refused to accept that he was not acceptable. He was a rebel that led a group of rebels that led a revolution that removed stigma and demolished barriers.

Leading a church and a community while being challenged by ASD is in reality a constant battle for me, but perhaps like Jephthah, learning to rebel against the idea that I am not needed or that I am not gifted or that I am not like other pastors, or authors, or advocates is what actually makes me the great warrior that the world needs.[image error]

When it is all said and done, when my life is over and when the story of the world that I lived in is recorded in writing, it may not describe me as having the largest church, the most followed blog, the highest book sales, or the most incredible sermons or speeches but what I am aiming for is to be the type of rebel, the type of warrior that the world was willing to follow because I was needed.

Shout out to all of my fellow warriors and rebels who were born into a world that has attempted to toss you aside. Don’t stop fighting. Don’t stop rebelling.

“Because we need you”

#autismpastor

Inclusion Fusion Live 2018

Listen to my talk at Inclusion Fusion Live

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Inclusion Fusion Live 2018

A Love Letter To The Church From An Autistic Pastor

“..and upon this rock I will build my church, and all the powers of hell will not conquer it. And I will give you the keys of the Kingdom of heaven.” -Jesus

I love the church. Those who know me well know that I am an apologist for the local church. I believe that thousands of years ago Jesus made an outrageous prediction and promise that he would build not a place, but a people who would be unstoppable and because of that they would be handed the keys to his Kingdom.

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Honestly, the Christian church should have never made it out of the first century. The early church faced insurmountable obstacles. They faced incredible oppression from without and even more incredible division from within. It is no secret that the church has had its issues over the centuries of its existence, so when people often share their reservations about the church, I don’t deny their right to feel the way that they do about the church. The church is full of people, so the church is full of flaws.

Perhaps this is why I stay in the church despite all of its flaws. Perhaps this is actually why the church made it out of the first century after all. I cling to the historian and gospel writer Luke’s words when he says that “all the believers devoted themselves..” , because honestly it takes just that to stick it out. Devotion. When Jesus promised to build his church he made a declaration of devotion to his followers and even with all of my flaws and the flaws of the church, I believe in remaining devoted to each other.

It is because I am deeply devoted to the church that I am venturing out and temporarily suspending one of my own rules about autism advocacy, and that is giving attention to negative and hurtful comments made about me or others like me.

If I did not believe in the church that Jesus is continually building, I would not belong to it but there are times that I must make a public confession of my utter disappointment with the church’s role in discrimination against and dismissal of persons with disabilities.[image error]

To be clear these thoughts and sentiments are my own, but over the years since publicly speaking about being diagnosed with Asperger’s, and my journey of marriage, fatherhood, and church and community leadership, I have found that there are literally thousands who share both my struggle and sorrow with the church.

When I speak of the church, I speak of the church universal. I love the church in all of her different expressions and environments. The church is rich in cultural and theological diversity and I celebrate all of the variants that make the church the attraction that it is. The church strives to be a community.

I love my church. I have the privilege of being the lead pastor of an incredible church that is racially and ethnically diverse. I am extraordinarily fortunate and it is because of my good fortune that I am often oblivious to the struggles of others in the autism community who have yet to find true community in the local church, let alone the opportunity to lead in the church.

My road to this place in my life and ministry has not been an easy one, but I am here and as someone who is blessed with this opportunity I often silently struggle with the weight of having to be a voice that advocates for both communities to which I am a member. It is an uncomfortable cross to bear to say the least.

I am not immune to critique and criticism from both communities. Often times I am open and eager to hear and learn from both the autism community and the faith community, yet when I receive messages from the “church” that imply that I should avoid labeling myself as autistic, it both breaks my heart and opens my eyes to the reality that the church has so much to learn.

Recently I was chastised by another Christian for identifying myself with my autism diagnosis. While I will not give full detail and full attention to this person’s issue, I will say that this is  not by far the first occurrence of having privately been confronted with such rhetoric.

I believe that every person reserves a right to disclose or not to disclose any diagnosis they my have with whom ever they choose. I do not pen these words with the type of arrogance that assumes that I know what is best in making that decision, however because I am devoted to the church and all of the ideals that it represents as Jesus espoused, I can not miss the opportunity to assist the church and the Christian community to which I belong with insight into how we might find the faith to move beyond one of our greatest flaws, and that is our fear of being human.

For Christians, our understanding of faith, sin, salvation and all that we believe begins with a simple story about the dangers of so desperately wanting to rid ourselves of our humanity. This is the story of Adam and Eve. As I have grown in my faith and my fidelity to the church that I love so dear, I learned that the road that leads so many away from God and away from the local church is the same road that we often direct them to.

In the beginning humanity was completely content with being human. Naked but not nervous about who knows and about how God will react. Naked, but not needy in the sense that we felt the compulsion to measure the meaning of our existence by our ability to “be like God.” This is the craftiness of the serpent. God simply wanted us to enjoy being with him and not the burden of being like him. After all humanity already bore the very image of God. We are most like God when we determine that being with God is enough. Paradise is resisting the urge to compete with God and submitting to God’s desire to commune with God.

What better state of beauty does God’s creation have to offer us. In the beginning there was a natural freedom to be confident in God’s commitment to us just as we were created. God’s creation is always good, and the concept of community created by a loving and creative God only enhanced the goodness the human experience, until humanity decided that being human wasn’t enough.

One of the most powerful revelations that I have learned as a response to my autism diagnosis is that whenever we eat the proverbial fruit, we lose faith in the very idea that God created humanity to be human and to be free from the burden and weight of trying to assess the value of ourselves and others by our own standards.

When what God says about me is no longer good enough, when how I am created by God becomes a condition by which I am judged, then we all become like the ancient Babylonian King Nebuchadnezzar. We erect glorious images of ourselves as a way of overcompensating for who we secretly desire to be and in the process we ask the world to worship a false image of us and a false perception of God.

I see it every day on social media, but more importantly and more dangerously I see it in the church.

In many ways not only has the church insisted that people eat from this dangerous fruit, but the church has either intentionally or unintentionally taught people to follow a very dangerous path. The moment we criticize or condemn people for being human is the very moment that we send them the message that God is not in control and that God in fact did not create them in his image and that they are incapable of enjoying community with God or the rest of creation.

This is a flawed theology that gives birth to a false faith and I will not hide behind nor cover myself with leaves but instead leave behind the suggestion that I should stand behind shame and stigma in an effort to appear to be more like God.[image error]

The fact that I am autistic is not an offense to God and does not under any circumstances even remotely suggest that I should seek to be anything other than human. This is who I am and how God created me.

When humanity first made this grave mistake it led to the downward spiral of a cycle of shame, and God’s pursuit of Adam and Eve, and God’s pursuit of all of humanity is one that expels the misnomer that either I or any other human being that lives with a disability should be ashamed and should hide behind the figurative fig leaves of this false type of faith.

To the church and Christian community that I love so dearly, while I am often grieved at how we egregiously and aggressively insist that the disability community hide and live in shame I am still grateful that Jesus himself promised that the church would be built and that there is no force that has the power to extinguish the mission of the local church, even the powers of prejudice  and exclusion.

To the church, Jesus has entrusted us with the very keys to his kingdom. We are the gatekeepers of the type of kindness and gentleness that those in the disability community need to experience in order to come out from hiding and to shed the stigma of shame that society has placed on them.

We are the plan that Jesus put into place to promote access into his kingdom community. We are responsible for ridding our society of the fruit that forces people to create false images and live in fear of not being included in the community.

Like Paul I live in a constant state of overwhelming acceptance of God’s grace that is actively working in my life and ministry and because of the sufficiency of God’s grace, I will continue my devotion to the church that Jesus is building, not because it is not flawed, but because I have faith.

I have faith that one day I will not be asked to hide who I am and how God created me.

I have faith that one day the church will examine her practices, principles, and programming and actively look for ways that she can be better at believing the best for all members of the community she serves.

I have faith that one day very soon the church will embrace its call to be gatekeepers to community and that she will swing the doors open wide enough for the disability community to belong to a gathering of people who trust that in their humanity lies the very image of God our creator.

To the church. I am disappointed but I love you.

We can be better.

We will by the grace of God, we will.

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The Real Reason You Don’t Believe I’m Autistic

On March 8, 2015, I did one of the most courageous things I’ve ever done. This leap of faith ranks right up there with jumping the broom and having three children. On March 8, 2015, I told the world about my autism diagnosis.

I spent the better half of 2014 wrestling with the idea that I may be on the autism spectrum. I’m not exactly sure when my suspicions began, but at age 36, I was almost certain I couldn’t be autistic because I thought I was “just fine” — until I realized my “fine” was actually pretty different from everyone else’s definition of “fine.” That’s when I began to take an honest look in the mirror — not because I didn’t like what I saw, but because I wanted to redefine “fine.” I’ve lived my entire life pretty much the same way. I’ve never had a ton of friends, but I was fine with that, even when others thought it was strange.

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I’ve always preferred to be alone, and while I do like hanging out occasionally, I see nothing wrong with sitting at home alone on the weekend. I’m just fine with that. I almost always miss the point of sarcastic jokes and comments, but I’ve never had an issue with that. In fact, I just thought to myself, “It’s not that I don’t get what you’re saying. You’re just not that funny,” and I was fine with that.

Honestly, I’ve known I was a little different ever since I was a teenager. My interests were very limited, I didn’t need or like to be the center of attention and most people thought I barely talked. I was fine with that. It’s just who I am, and everyone who really knew me knew I wasn’t strange, I was just Lamar.

When I did finally get a diagnosis as an adult and I shared my new discovery with the world, most people in my life had a similar response. “We would never know something was wrong with you. You seem just fine.”

I am fine. In fact, I am better than fine. I am Lamar, and my “fine” has always been defined by me. You see, the same reason you don’t think I am autistic is the exact same reason I didn’t think I was autistic. I am fine because I don’t allow labels to limit me. I never have.

Let’s be clear, I am autistic. When I received my diagnosis, I didn’t need a second opinion. I knew it was right. I’ve always had sensory issues; I just didn’t know everyone didn’t hear, see and smell the world the way I did. I’ve always had trouble with facial expressions, body language and social cues. I just expected people to say what they meant. I don’t assume, and I didn’t live in the world of nonverbal communication, and I was fine with that.

The real reason most people don’t think I am autistic is because like me, they have had very little education about what autism actually is. Autism has received a lot of attention in the last decade; however, the harsh reality is that there are still millions of people who don’t know nearly enough about autism, what it is and how it affects people.

I should know; I was one of those people. Until my diagnosis, my understanding of autism was reduced to a stereotype. The vast majority of people lean to one end of the spectrum or another in order to define what autism is.

The real reason most people don’t believe I am autistic is simply because I can talk, and because of the fact that I am verbal, I must be fine. I believed the same thing, but what I believed help perpetuate a stereotype about autistic people.

The problem with stereotypes is that it silences so many autistic people, and it provides a singular definition of “fine.” Stereotypes allow for one singular expression of what it means to be socially acceptable. Stereotypes create one singular narrative about who people should be and how they should behave.

Stereotypes, whether intentional or not, are the reason why I didn’t know I was autistic, and it’s the reason that most people don’t think I am autistic today.

We have a lot of work to do to educate more people about autism. Autism can’t be reduced to how one externally functions in the eyes of society. The ability to talk doesn’t make me any less autistic than those who are nonverbal. On the other hand, the inability to talk doesn’t make other autistic people any less competent or valuable than those who are verbal.

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Autism is not only found in children. You don’t “outgrow” autism, and autistic children grow up to be autistic adults. Autism is truly a spectrum, and what I have both observed and learned since my diagnosis is that it is much easier to search for labels and stereotypes than it is to search for ways to support the autism community by searching for the significance in each individual human life.

Since being diagnosed, I’ve learned a lot about myself, but even more importantly I have learned a lot about why I knew nothing about myself for so many years. Since being diagnosed, I have been confronted with stereotypes about autism that create the idea that “fine” is defined by one group of people, so my goal is to make that “fine” harder to find.

When we educate the world about autism in both children and adults, people who are verbal and nonverbal, we make it much more difficult for the world to subscribe to one idea of “fine,” and in the end, we can aggressively redefine what it means to be “fine,” what it means to be social, what it means to be successful, what it means to be hopeful, what it means to be valuable and most importantly what it means to be human.

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*a version of the post also appears on The Mighty

Moses. Martin. And Me

“There has never been another prophet in Israel like Moses, whom the Lord knew face to face.”  Deuteronomy 34:10

In 1968, while preparing and planning to march to Washington to lobby Congress about the plight and the condition of the poor in America, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and other SCLC members were requested to come to Memphis, Tennessee in support of a sanitation workers strike.

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On April 3rd, Dr. King gave a speech at Mason Temple Church in Memphis. In one of the most profound moments in the life, ministry, and mission of Dr. King he delivered a powerful speech that included what would now prove to be prophetic:

“I’ve seen the promised land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land. And I’m happy tonight. I’m not worried about anything. I’m not fearing any man. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord.”

The next day, just after 6:00 p.m. while standing on the second-floor balcony of the Lorraine Motel where he was staying with his colleagues, King was struck by the bullet of an assassin. He was rushed to a near-by hospital where he was pronounced dead approximately an hour later. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. had been killed at the very young age of just 39 years old.

“Moses” was dead. Now what?

The Birth of Moses

“About this time, a man and woman from the tribe of Levi got married. The woman became pregnant and gave birth to a son. She saw that he was a special baby and kept him hidden for three months. But when she could no longer hide him, she got a basket made of papyrus reeds and waterproofed if with tar and pitch. She put the baby in the basket and laid it among the reeds along the bank of the Nile River. The baby’s sister then stood at a distance, watching to see what would happen to him. –Exodus 2:2-4

Not much is known about Moses and his early life. We only find out who his parents are in chapter 6 of the book of Exodus. In fact, there is probably more controversy regarding the conditions of his birth than him being placed in a basket and sent down a river unprotected.

According to Levitical law, Moses’ parents’ marriage would have been questionable if not illegal, yet what’s most interesting about the narrative of his early years is the attention to one very specific detail; his mother knew that he was special.

Growing Pains

“Two incidents happened in my late childhood and early adolescence that had a tremendous effect on my development.”

As a child King was very close to his grandmother. She was in instrumental and influential figure in his life in helping raise him as a young boy. He often felt as though he was her favorite grandchild. In May of 1941, when Martin was 12 years old, his grandmother Jennie died. King was so distraught that he allegedly jumped from a second story window at that family home in a failed attempt to take his own life. “I was particularly hurt by her death mainly because of the extreme love I had for her.”

The second incident would introduce King to the harsh realities of the world outside of his home.

“I had a white playmate who was about my age. We always felt free to play our childhood games together. He did not live in our community, but he was usually around every day; his father owned a store across the street from our home. At the age of six we both entered school-separate schools, of course. I remember how our friendship began to break as soon as we entered school; this was not my desire but his. The climax came when he told me one day that his father had demanded that we would play with me no more.”

King was shocked and hurt. His parents feeling the need to expose him to the realities of racism, sat him down and discussed the difficulties of being citizens in a society that saw their skin color as something to condemn.

“As my parents discussed some of the tragedies that had resulted from this problem and some of the insults they themselves had confronted on account of it, I was greatly shocked, and from that moment on I was determined to hate every white person. As I grew older and older this feeling continued to grow.”

History has a way of unintentionally rewriting itself. It’s not often that we recall the roots of King’s commitment to racial harmony. In his earliest and most formative years King encountered a very painful push away from the loving environment and encouragement that his home and church fostered. Despite his parents encouragement he was determined to hate white people because he could not understand how to love a race of people that hated him.

“My parents would always tell me that I should not hate the white man, but that it was my duty as Christian to love him. The question arose in my mind: How could I love a race of people who hated me and who had been responsible for breaking me up with one of my best childhood friends? This was a great question in my mind for a number of years.”

“Many years later, when Moses had grown up he went out visit his own people, the Hebrews, and he saw how hard they were forced to work. During his visit, he saw an Egyptian beating one of his fellow Hebrews. After looking in all directions to make sure no one was watching. Moses killed the Egyptian and hid the body in the sand.” –Exodus 2:11-12 NLT

Moses and Martin. Men who had experienced at an early age that the messiness of life will inevitably invade the sacred spaces called home, community, and church. Men whose earliest interaction with the sin of oppression, racism, and segregation led to an infiltration of heart and an expression of hate.

Yet, Every great leader. Every great prophet. Every great deliverer, has a passion that is produced from pain and despair.

“I became convinced that noncooperation with evil is as much a moral obligation as is cooperation with good.”

King has often described his call into ministry as something less than supernatural and miraculous, but rather he described it as an inner urge that was beckoning him to severe humanity. In fact it is well known that Martin Luther King Jr., despite having grown up in the church struggled with his own sense of spirituality.

“I had been brought up in the church and knew about religion, but I wondered whether it could serve as a vehicle to modern thinking, whether religion could be intellectually respectable as well as emotionally satisfying.”

Men and women like Martin and Moses are eventually compelled to leave the sidelines despite their spiritual struggles and get in the game. God or not here they come, and in a strange way perhaps that’s the type of passion that God is looking for. Aren’t those the leaders in our history that we look up to and celebrate? Brave men and women who rise from the ashes of despair and disappointment who make sense of their spirituality while serving humanity? Perhaps action in the face of ambiguity is what God can use to transform our anger into righteous indignation.  What if all that is needed is the courage to commit to change the things that we don’t understand and the things that don’t make sense?

As we round out the end of Black History month, I stand just as confused as Moses and Martin. I don’t have the answers. Much has changed, and much remains unchanged. Like so many, I struggle, yet I am convinced that this is our moment.

We can make a difference. We can make things better now. If anything, history has taught us through great women and men that faith isn’t about waiting until I have the answers, but rather faith is about wanting to work through a variety of angles and answers until we arrive at what works.

First there was Moses.

Then there was Martin.

Now there is me.

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I am determined to change the world.

#Iamblackhistory.

Quotes from The Autobiography of Martin Luther King, Jr.

How To Bring True Healing To The Disability Community: A Response To “Miraculous Healings For Autism” Article

Approximately 4 years ago, I was diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome, which is an autism spectrum disorder. I was 36 years old when I made this discovery. To say the least my eyes were opened to the reality that I processed the world so much differently than my peers growing up that there is no wonder I struggled to fit in, especially in the church.

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Facing life with a disability of any kind can be a daunting task, which is why as a Christian I depend heavily on my faith community to assist me in my very public journey of processing the complexities of life as an autistic pastor, father, husband, and Christian.

This is why I am extremely grieved when the Christian community, the community of faith to which I and many others like me belong to, practice a type of faith that puts us at odds with the very community that we seek solace in.

Recently an article was released in a popular Christian magazine about the miracle of children that were being “healed and delivered” from their autism.

There are so many troubling images and ideologies present in this article that it would take me multiple articles to respond to everything that I find offensive and Biblically and theologically incorrect. With that in mind I want to offer just three primary issues that I have with this article and the overall assumption about faith and disabilities that I believe serve as the foundation for such an insensitive approach to a very sensitive issue.

Assumptions: One of the primary issues with a ministry of “healing” or “deliverance” as demonstrated in this article is a basic human assumption about the role of faith in the face of disabilities, whether they be physical, mental, or developmental. In this case the author makes a bold and dangerous claim that the source of autism is a demonic force that “tortures” those diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder. As the world continues to gain access to more education about autism and how it impacts individuals differently, it is important to understand that having a belief system in the supernatural is not a license to be irresponsible. The faith community must do the work of educating itself about autism as well as all things disability related. The church is historically notorious for demonizing that which is difficult to understand. When Jesus was asked by his disciples why a man was born blind (John 9) they wanted to place the blame for his disability on sin or on something supernatural. Jesus responded by correcting them. It wasn’t the man’s fault or his parent’s fault that he was born with a disability. In addressing his followers in this way, Jesus suggests that using spirituality as a means to demonize an issue that is outside of one’s control should not be an indicator of one’s proposed piety. What is troubling about this author’s perspective is that she too blames the parents for the child’s autism.

“The tactics of the spirit of fear are to frighten and cause the parents or others in authority over the child, regardless of age, to back off from the process and to enter into doubt and unbelief. But if you, their caregiver and protector will not falter in your spiritual authority during this process, their deliverance and healing will manifest.”

While I could share much more on this issue, my aim is to point the Christian faith in a direction that moves away from assumptions about the source of disability. If Jesus says that we can’t discern the source of disability than continuing to insist that we know why someone is disabled is not a belief in the supernatural it is a belief in superstition.

Ableism: Over the last few decades, the Christian church has slowly but steadily admitted to the role it has played in fostering racial and gender subjugation of its own members. We have named the name of racism and sexism in the church what continues to be a struggle for many in the disability community is the lack of education in the church about the sin of ableism. Ableism is essentially discrimination against disabled people, and while it is much more complicated than that, the simple truth is that the very presentation of the children mentioned in the article is ablest. They have no voice or value other than what is given to them by the author. They are cropped and edited images of them based on their differences and their perceived deficiencies. What the author has done is to use herself as a standard for normal and acceptable behavior. In doing so, she alone becomes the gate-keeper to supernatural healing because she alone determines when the child’s behavior measures up to the desired results of her “deliverance” ministry.

“..the second major step in the right direction was her reaching out to me, climbing into my arms, laying her head down and holding on tightly to me.”

Ableism comes with the type of privilege that doesn’t require the voices of others to validate their experience with non-disabled persons. We don’t get to hear the whole story or to know the children or what the real results of her actions were. There is no medical confirmation of healing. Sadly she validates healing based on their ability to embrace her and look her into the eye. That’s what ableism does; it silently says that you are valued when and if I become comfortable with your disability, not when you are comfortable with yourself.

Abuse: Among all the many things that grieve me about this encounter, the most egregious is the complete neglect of acknowledging the child’s independent agency over her own body.

“After a few minutes of holding this little girl and releasing the love of the Holy Spirit over her by holding onto her tightly and praying in the Spirit over her…”

I am grieved over the use of physical force and physical restraint on a child who may have an aversion to touch. To be held tightly against her will could very well feel like torture to this young child and to maintain that this type of inappropriate touch is permissible because of a perceived position of “spiritual authority” is abusive. People with disabilities of any type reserve the right to have agency over their own bodies regardless of communication style and/or age. Many people diagnosed with autism have an aversion to touch due to sensory processing challenges, however even if this is not the case for this child, grabbing her and holding her tightly without her permission is the very definition of inappropriate touching. The idea that somehow spiritual authority grants permission to touch people who do not want to be touched does not demonstrate power, it makes you a predator.

“As Jesus was walking along, he saw a man who had been blind from birth. ‘Rabbi,’ his disciples asked him, ‘why was this man born blind? Was it because of his own sins of his parents’ sins?’ ‘It was no because of his sins or his parents’ sins,’ Jesus answered.’ ‘This happened so the power of God could be seen in him’.”

When it comes to the mystery of autism, disabilities and faith, I’m not certain that we will ever have all the answers. What caused this? Who is responsible? Can God heal? Will God heal? How does God heal? When will God heal?

These are all great questions. Questions that I believe that we as Christians should continue to explore together. We should engage in critical thinking about our theology and our understanding of faith and disability. We should do the hard work of pondering the extent and involvement of God’s supernatural abilities and sovereignty in relation to human suffering.

In the end however, I think Jesus points us to the most important issue to remember. When being asked about the source of disability and the sovereignty and supernatural abilities of God to heal those with a disability, Jesus points to a much better question to ask.

The question was not “Why can’t this man?” or “When will this man see?” The most important question is “How can God be seen in the life of this person who is created in God’s own image?”

Can you see God’s image in us? If you can acknowledge it! Celebrate it. Protect it. Honor it.

That is healing. That is deliverance. That is the work of the church. That is what I pray that the author will come to realize. As a Christian, pastor, and someone diagnosed with an autism spectrum disorder, I pray that the church will understand that whether we are healed or not, we are HIS and that is enough.

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8 things I do when I disappear

“Where’s daddy?”

This is probably one of the most common phrases used in our home. Actually if I were to be honest it’s not just at home. It seems like someone is always looking for me.  Although it feels good to be wanted I realize that the main reason that I am in high demand is that I often disappear like a magician’s rabbit in a hat.

My children aren’t always asking where I am because I am never home. In reality I’m quite the homebody. I go to work. I go to the gym. I go to the movies. That’s about it. My family pretty much knows that I don’t go a lot of places so asking where I am is less about me being hard to pin down and more about recognizing that I move in and out of social settings like a CIA operative. Now you see me. Now you don’t. Then I’m back again.

It doesn’t just happen at home. It also happens at work. It’s probably most noticeable immediately after I step off the stage from delivering a weekly Sunday sermon. My messages are aimed at giving my audience precision and passion and just when I get them all worked up and excited. Poof! “Where did he go?” “Where’s Lamar?”

Most of the reason for this is that as a part of my ASD (autism spectrum disorder) I struggle with sensory processing issues. This means that my brain doesn’t filter out unnecessary sights, sounds, and smells. I often say that when it comes to my brain I don’t have an EQ. There is no such thing as white noise.

Everything is the same volume and that volume is always at max capacity. It’s often the same experience when it comes to lighting and smells. My brain snatches sensory output out of the air and attempts to process all of it at one time at maximum capacity and at maximum speed and eventually it is overwhelmed by it all. It is what I call the equivalent of taking a concussive blow to the head. It is problematic and painful so I’ve learned over the last few years to bail before my brain is bombarded with too much input.

So I disappear.

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The bigger and busier the environment the more of my magic act you might catch. Don’t be alarmed though.These behaviors are known as stimming or self stimulation. While self stimulating is something that everyone does (i.e. nail biting and finger tapping) many people diagnosed with ASD stim in ways that help them regulate their sensory input as they respond to the stress of being overstimulated. I always come back but in case you were wondering what I do when I disappear here are eight things I do when I’m out of sight that sometimes help me to deal with my overwhelmed and overstimulated brain so that I can reappear and reinsert myself back into the social scene.

1. Pacing: Sometimes I’m just pacing. Walking to and fro or around in circles. Sometimes I count my steps. Other times I walk around and watch my watch. At home I pace in the bathroom. We have a pretty large facility at my church so this works well for me at work, but only during the week when it’s far less crowded than on the weekends. Pacing helps calm me down because I can control and anticipate my input. I know when my feet will hit the floor next and that gives me some relief.

2. Scratching: At times this can border on being unhealthy especially if my nails are too long but normally this doesn’t happen because I tend to bite my nails way more than I should, which can also be a problem that I’ll discuss later in this post. When it comes to scratching to relieve stress I  scratch my head. This also means I rub my head pretty vigorously. Sometimes I also rub my face as well. My staff has reported picking up on this stim so apparently I don’t just do it in private. The good thing is they know when I’m becoming overwhelmed so they able to help me by giving me some needed space. My wife is also very helpful in recognizing this stim and helping my find some relief.

3. Listening: At times when disappearing I head straight for my head phones. A few years ago my wife purchased me some really great wireless BOSE headphones. Music calms me but I also think that feeding my brain with “organized” noise helps to reorient it. When I am in a room full of people and sounds everything can become disorganized and disabling. Words and sounds that don’t work together can easily become painful. Music works together and moves in the same direction. Harmony, melody, rhythm and lyrics all make sense and as a result bring healing to my senses.  I am actually listening to one of my favorite artists Lecrae in my headphones as I’m writing this blog because I had to step away from a Thanksgiving day gathering to get some relief.

4. Sleeping: There are times when the trauma of sensory overload is so bad that I go to sleep. This one is fairly new for me. Until about 2 years ago I almost never napped. I think this was due mostly to my fear of being considered lazy, but as I am learning to be more submissive to my brain and body’s way of helping and healing itself, I have found that I often need more sleep as a resource for sensory recovery. I also believe that as I am growing older (not old) just older, that I don’t recover as quickly as I used to. Napping has become my body’s way of slowing me down so that I can have more intentional recovery time.

5. Crying:  Yes. Crying. It does happen occasionally, especially if I am at the end of my sensory tank going into a high-octane social setting. Normally there is also an additional stress factor that works in conjunction with sensory overload such as time. Several years ago I experienced a complete melt down while driving because I was completely overwhelmed as well as being late for an important meeting in downtown Atlanta that I thought, at that time, would make or break my future. (*Side Note: I have an internal clock in my head and I HATE being late). I was in an area of town that I was unfamiliar with and I was overwhelmed by the noise of the big city and I was completely disoriented. Ironically I was literally across the street from where I was supposed to be and did not know it until over an hour later. Sometimes when I disappear it is to shed a few tears because my brain just can’t handle the input and it is literally and physically painful and disorienting.

6. Talking: Normally when I disappear I am not going to talk to anyone. In fact, I am probably disappearing because I don’t want to talk to anyone. The environment is too much and I don’t have the capacity to converse, especially to answer questions. So when I disappear to talk, I disappear to talk to myself. This usually happens while I pace and I am normally doing something called scripting. Scripting is when I stim by carrying on a conversation with myself that I anticipate that I may have to have with another person. There are many times this is helpful because I am able to calm myself by using the time to prepare for possible social interactions. Overtime I have developed this into a skill that has helped me to develop my public speaking skills.

7. Tapping: Most people do this and there are many times that I don’t actually disappear to do this, I just do it where people can’t see it. Tapping my feet under the table, tapping my finger or a pen against my leg, or tapping my fingers together is also a way that I relieve sensory stress. If I do choose to actually leave the room it is probably when I am tapping something against my body that may seem strange such as tapping my head with a pen or tapping or slapping the back of my neck or head with my hand or an object like a pen or pencil.

8. Chewing: As I stated earlier, I often bite my nails. It is really not a great habit. I must admit that it rarely stops with the finger nails. Sometimes it ends up being the sides of the nails and fingers. I have also chewed the insides of my mouth. My dentist has made me aware of how problematic that can be so I have been working on using different textured food and snacks to help with this. Hard and crunchy candy and mints. Most times anything crunchy can help and I don’t always have to disappear to stim in this way, however depending on the environment, I may slip away to chew something crunchy and/or some gum in order to direct my sensory input so that I can settle my brain.

In the end, sometimes I will disappear from social situations but just remember that stepping away and stimming is always an act of self-care so don’t worry too much, I’ll reappear when I’m ready and when I’m rested.

Adulting and Autism: 5 things I’m learning to manage that make success possible.

The last few years of my life have been as equally difficult as they have been invigorating. Since December 2014 I have been on an ongoing quest to find myself and to find balance as I further my career as well as place a priority on my role as a father and husband.

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In December of 2014, almost three years ago I was given a gift, not for Christmas but the life that was inspired by this gift was as equally as important to me as the celebration of the birth of Jesus.

I was given the gift of self-awareness. At the end of 2014 I was officially diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder (Aspergers) and for the most part my diagnosis has been a relief and a reward.

Don’t get me wrong, autism is hard. My challenges are quite different from others diagnosed with autism. Most of my challenges are invisible to the untrained eye. I work extremely hard to be as successful as most people believe me to be but it doesn’t come without sacrifice, support, and most of all strategy.

Until I was diagnosed I felt out of touch and out of sync with the world around me. Social communication challenges and sensory processing issues made things pretty difficult for me especially as I entered into adulthood.

Simple things like making friends and finding and keeping a job were difficult for me because of they way the world works.

This year I’ve celebrated a milestone in my adult life. In August I celebrated 7 years at my current job and next month I will celebrate 4 years as the Lead Pastor of my church in GA.

That’s a big deal for me because this is the longest I have ever held a job with the same organization or company. In the past I was usually able to hang on to a job for 2-3 years before some of my social deficits began to surface in ways that made others feel uncomfortable. Believe it or not being clergy made this even more difficult because leading a church is almost entirely outside of my comfort zone. When I went into ministry full-time I spent nearly 10 years trying to find the place where I fit in. It’s unfortunate that the place where I should be able to pursue my calling would be the biggest challenge I would face in becoming the person I believed God was calling me to become. (I’ll share more on that in a different post)

Now with 3 years under my belt and a diagnosis and more determination, I’ve learned as I am nearing 40, how to manage my life in a way that helps highlight my strengths and push toward my highest potential for pursuing my goals and dreams for being the person I believe God wants me to be.

Adulting is work. Adulting and autism is a grind, but whether you’re on the spectrum or have a child entering adulthood and independence here are a few things I’m learning to manage that have helped me become more successful and stable.

1. Manage Time

When it comes to time we really don’t manage it because we can’t manipulate it. Time moves on with or without us. Time can be a challenge for me as with many people on the spectrum because I can become laser focused on finishing a task and get totally lost in it. Although I have an incredible sense to chronological time, my sense of timing can become distorted. I can miss important windows of time which makes it difficult for me to instinctively know when to take a break. Right now I am on sabbatical for this very reason. Because I love what I do I find it difficult to know when I’ve done too much. My advice is to assign trusted people to point you toward the need for rest. Have them help you create margin. Managing time is about margin. Create space between your load and your limit and have people stand in the gap and warn you when you’re in danger of crossing the line.

2. Manage energy

Energy management is essential. Honestly I am still very much a work in progress when it comes to this critical issue. Spoon theory is a wonderful example of what energy management is all about. Simply put I’ve had to learn what types of activities require certain types of energy and as a result learn to ration out my energy for tasks that are important for this season and stage in my life and career. Sensory overload has a tremendous impact on how I am learning to ration out my energy to be more effective. I’ll write more about that later, but the fact that I live in a world that my brain isn’t built for requires me to be very frugal with my energy. I turn down good opportunities if they infringe upon my ability to be great at something else. I’ve the last 3 years I’ve learned how to manage this through trial and error, journaling, and failing at tasks because I have my energy away to something less important. Energy management is about learning a pace and rhythm that works best for you in your pursuit of reaching your goals. Give yourself permission to only give yourself away to things that will make a contribution to your journey and your core convictions.

3. Manage expectations

Admittedly this one is hard to do. Managing expectations means trying to manage your own expectations as well as the expectations of others. Prior to my diagnosis I thought that I was simply not enough to meet the expectations I placed on myself and that translated to how I perceived others when thinking of whether or not I was meeting their expectations. Truthfully most of what I thought people wanted was probably the result of my own insecurities. Then there is also a small percentage of people who simply have unrealistic and unreasonable expectations of others. This is true in both relationships and employment and it makes it extremely tough to transition into adulthood having trouble with meeting the demands placed on yourself and having demands placed on you. I have learned that most expectations go unmet simple because they go unexpressed. When it comes to managing expectations don’t allow anything to remain ambiguous or undefined. Try to understand exactly what is expected from you by others upfront so that you can decide if you feel you are capable of meeting those demands. It also allows the other party to hear of their requests are actually reasonable. Most times people have ideas in their minds about what is feasible and it’s not until those ideas come out of their heads and on to paper that you can both assess what is realistic. I want to honor my commitments but honoring requires honesty. I’m learning to be honest with myself and with others about what I CAN do. You can’t do what you can’t do and having limits doesn’t make you weak it makes you honest and human.

4. Manage sensory resources

In the past I’ve written about the impact that my sensory processing has on my energy levels. This has been a learning curve for me. Certain sights, sounds, and smells can send my brain into overload. My brain doesn’t manage the environment very well and as a result it can become overwhelmed and shut down. Think of your computer when it has been asked to process too many tasks. When you get what I call the “wheel of death” you know that the machine is overwhelmed. In order to help the computer you have to open the task manager and hit control, alt, delete and shut it down. This is what is known in the autism community as a meltdown or in my case as I have grown older, a shut down. My brain needs a break and so it takes one and in the process it takes me with it.

When I’m scheduled to attend an event or outing I like to do as much research as possible. I try to find out what the environment might sound like and smell like. How long will I be there? Is there a schedule or program that I can view so that I can understand what will be taking place? When I arrive I try to sit close to an exit or with easy access to the restroom. I often need to take scheduled breaks so that I don’t get overwhelmed so having access to the door or restroom help me remove myself for a few minutes. Sitting in the corner of the room often helps “cut off the room”‘so that I can place all of the action in front of my line of sight. Having chewing gum and/or mints also helps focus my sensory input. I often count in patterns when I chew or when using mints I try to have something hard and crunchy that I can bite into to give me some sensory relief. Ultimately, I can’t change my brain but I can periodically train it to manage certain situations if I am prepared to take on the challenge in advance.

5. Manage social calendar

Social anxiety has in the past been a huge hinderance to my profession career. On of the challenges for adults on the spectrum trying to enter the workforce is the system by which employment is obtained. In the event we are granted an interview, we are asked to sit down with a person we never met in a building and environment that is often unfamiliar and uncomfortable and we have 30-46 minutes to impress someone with our social skills. While I am thankful that I am successful today I can’t tell you how many opportunities that I have missed over the years not because I was unqualified but because I was perceived to be uninterested or unapproachable because of my struggle to understand social cues or my lack of facial expressions.

Social capital is the most important resource in navigating the adult world. They old saying “It’s now what you know but who you know” is true and it impacts adult autistics entering the work force in ways that often go unseen and under appreciated ways.

Since being diagnosed 3 years ago, I have reflected on the ways my lack of social capital has impacted my career. While I am grateful for where I have landed it has taken me nearly 15 years to get here. As a result is a far better understanding of myself I have come to realize that my reach would be far greater had I understood the concept of social capital and the role that my ASD played in that area of becoming and adult and pursuing independence, a career, and a family.

This insight has led me to learn how to manage my social calendar in a different way. I am a pastor, and while I realize that not everyone shares my career path, I do think that social interaction impacts the ability to successfully transition into adulthood for those in the spectrum.

I am still challenged by this issue, but over the past year I have made progress by taking a cooperative approach to managing my social calendar. I discovered I needed a wingman. I am not an initiator so I needed to coordinate with people who can help create a calendar filled with important opportunities to connect with people that I may otherwise not have engaged because of my social anxiety.

This has worked well for me because I am able to interact with more regularity and more confidence because I have reduced the pressure of having to be the initiator.

I have recruited trusted people to help get me in the door and to make critical introductions and initiate relationships that may benefit me as well as other parties involved.

With each success relational connection comes more self-awareness and more importantly more self-confidence. With the help of trusted friends and professional colleagues I have slowly learned to step out from the shadows and be more confident in connecting with others by learning how to be in the action without feeling the pressure to be the center of attention.

I have something to offer the world and in order to live my best life I have decided that I could use a little help connecting with the people who need to know who I am.

In conclusion, I’ve learned a lot about myself, about who I am and what makes me special and with proper planing and adequate support I find that I continue to get better and more productive at living life well and it is my hope that my journey can inspire and empower autistic teens and young adults growing into adulthood and seeking independence to know and be confident in their ability to make a successful and fulfilling life for themselves one day.

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Worship, Weapons, and Worthless Words

“Just as damaging as a madman shooting a deadly weapon is someone who lies to a friend and then says, “I was only joking.” (Proverbs 26:18-19 NLT)

It just keeps happening.

Today in Sutherland Springs Texas a gunmen opened fire in a local church killing at least 26 people and wounding dozens more. Calling this act of violence a tragedy is an understatement. Words cannot express the amount of anguish and grief that this small community must be feeling.

Even from a distance I find myself enraged, disappointed, sad, but most of all I feel convicted.

I am convicted because if the words of the proverb above are true then the insincerity and/or absence of my words about the culture of gun violence in our country is and should be considered as damaging as the weapons so often used to end the lives of innocent people.

According to this very poignant proverb, people who continue to rehearse and rehash inconsistent, inconsiderate, and inappropriate language regarding the violence we witnessed today are to be considered equally culpable for the culture of violence we helped to create and curate.

The words of this powerful proverb stung my soul just enough to make me more sensitive to the system that silences the victims of senseless gun violence because as a society we keep lying to ourselves and our friends only to say that “we were just joking.”

In this section of this 26th chapter of proverbs the writer so eloquently points to the tension between social responsibility and meaningless speech. Like Jesus in his inaugural sermon in the temple, I hear the writer speaking from antiquity that “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” The essence of his claim is that people who say things that they have no intention on following through with are as dangerous and deadly as the ones who use weapons to harm others.

I do not own a gun. I grew up exposed to guns and I have even been exposed to the impact of gun violence in the city that I grew up in. I am not opposed to guns or to people having a right to legally own a gun, but as we continue to watch waves of gun violence and mass shootings wash over our country like the spread of a viral infection, we must be willing to have the courage to take the conversation further.

Laws don’t change hearts. I get it. That’s the argument, but I don’t think anyone has ever expected a law to change a heart. We know that people who don’t follow the law will get their hands on guns, but can we have the courage to admit that most if not all the mass shootings we are witnessing have been done with guns that were purchased legally? It’s true, laws do not change hearts but laws do however have a way of changing habits and making it harder for those wishing to do harm to be able to do so using guns.

As a pastor, no one understands the argument of evil more than I do. It exists. It is real. It is a problem. What happened today is the work of pure evil. An entire community lost loved ones. A fellow pastor has to bury 26 members of his church one of which is his own daughter. Nothing can explain this heinous act except for the presence and power of evil but ending the conversation there just isn’t helping with the problem of gun violence and mass shootings. We must move past being sad and toward solving this crisis together.

With that in mind I have some honest questions.

Is it possible to have a meaningful and important conversation about the very credible fear of losing more lives without it being tethered to the fear of many of losing their rights? Can we talk about this problem not as a political issue but as a moral one? Can our outrage and our outcry be accompanied by a passion to become more outspoken about how outdated our views of gun control just might be?

As for me I have been convicted about my complicity in this issue because I have remained silent for far too long. Silence is not always golden and to continue to remain silent because “now is not the time to talk about it” seems to me to more rapidly becoming an unacceptable response. Saying we will talk about it later and never following through and never making changes or never taking a critical look at how we can do better for our communities and our children is “Just as damaging as a madman shooting a deadly weapon…”

I am convicted. I feel complicit. I am concerned that we have slowly and subtly developed a worship of weapons and a right to bear arms and it continually overrides our willful pursuit to protect the lives of innocent people who also have a right to life and a right to bear the image of the creator without the constant fear of being assassinated both by the weapons of madmen and the reckless words of misleading ones.

I don’t have the answers, but I do believe that to continue to say we will talk about it later and never do it is not the answer. We can do better. We must do better. We have no choice because as long as we keep lying to ourselves and each other we remain just as damaging to our communities as those who pull the trigger.

“Just as damaging as a madman shooting a deadly weapon is someone who lies to a friend and then says, “I was only joking.” (Proverbs 26:18-19 NLT)

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