Category Archives: Special Needs Parenting

Blessed Beyond Measure

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I really stirred the pot with my Tuesday morning special needs parent support group, but I was not at all surprised. I brought up that awkward conversation we’ve all had with complete strangers.  You know the one.  They notice something different in our child’s behavior or abilities or appearance. They look for something to say and it generally starts with, “You must be a really special parent because…”

After the laughter and nodding heads subsided came the resounding cry, “We need a list of one-liners!” The humor soon gave way to transparency.

  • No, I’m not. I’m just holding it together one day after another and, by the way, I have no idea what I’m doing.
  • If you think I have the super hero power of patience, you are wrong!
  • Neither my child nor I are angels from heaven. We are real human beings with all the faults and challenges that come with that, and then some.

Looking for an energizing topic? Nailed it!   What is it about that statement that opens Pandora’s Box and lets it all tumble out?

Maybe it’s because that statement highlights a difference. Maybe it shines a spotlight on us at our hardest moment. Maybe it pokes us where we are most vulnerable, in that tender place between grief and acceptance.

Then came the reasonable voice from that mom who is so quiet and insightful, “You know, maybe we shouldn’t react that way.  They are just trying to connect. They are trying to be helpful. Maybe what we need instead of good comebacks is a good measure of grace.”

“Forgive, and you will be forgiven; give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap; for the measure you give will be the measure you get back.” (Luke 6:37-38 NRS)

Jesus taught in an agrarian culture that lacked standardized weights. When buying in the market place sometimes the measure you got was generous, other times the buyer left feeling cheated. A good measure is overly generous, abundant, and indulgent even. That is the grace that God offers to us.  It is so much more than we deserve, filled with understanding for when we fall short. With God’s grace we are blessed beyond measure.

How generous is my measure?  Truth be told, some days it’s more generous than others. We all have growing edges when it comes to grace.

Gracious God,  We thank you for the grace that you offer to us so freely. Help us to see the world through your eyes. Thank you for fresh opportunities to try again. Amen

Rev Doc Lorna

Photo “Corn-Grain” courtesy of stock.tookapic.com via Pexels

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Be Still? During Back to School?

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“Be still and know that I am God.” (Psalm 46:10 NRS)

Be still.  Familiar words, yes, but oh so difficult to follow.  In our multi-tasking world, being still is challenging enough for grown-ups, let alone children. Stillness may be all but impossible for children on various spectrums. Be still, you say?  Ha!

Seeing my child off for his first day of school, and the many that follow, being still is the last thing on my mind. There is much to do while he is away.  Plus I have all that worrying to do about him making friends, remembering homework, following rules. If I am going to be still it has to be in a very limited window of time.

Be still and know that I am God.

Besides, do I really need to be still in order to know that God is God? I mean, God is still God no matter how hectic things are for me, right? Isn’t it enough to pause and recognize the glory and wonder that is God and then go back to the hectic and the worry?

Maybe I ought to take just a second to read the beginning of the Psalm. Where does the story begin that later ends with being still and knowing that God is God?

God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. (Psalm 46:1 NRS)

Trouble, you say? We know a thing or two about that. Refuge and strength? Sign me up! But how am I to be still? It feels like I need to be DOING something, anything.

Hebrew is an interesting language.  One word can mean so many things. That familiar command to be still may better translate as “let go,” “slacken” or “abandon.”

Well that changes things just a bit.  What if I trusted God in the midst of turmoil and accepted refuge and strength? What if I let go of the worry? What if allowed that taut muscle in my neck slacken? What if I abandoned the sense that I need to be in control and gave it over to God?

Perhaps I will take a moment be still and think about the different possibilities that exist in a school year like that.

 

God of our refuge and strength. Remind us that we can let go.  Thank you for catching us when we do. Amen

 

Rev Doc Lorna

Photo “Pier” courtesy of unsplash at Pixabay.com

Mean, or Means of Grace?

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“You’re a loser.  You let everyone down. Why can’t you get this right?”

We all agree those statements are mean.  Just imagining these words said to my child makes the mama lion in me wake up and roar.  Words matter.

Even the words we say to ourselves.

Time and time again as I have the privilege to care for special needs parents in the midst of deep grief I hear words like these shared from their internal dialogue.  Already feeling down for the count, the self-condemnation piles on.

When it comes to ourselves, we can be just plain mean.

What would it be like to change that voice to one of assurance and support, especially in times of crisis? Is it worth trying?

Of course it’s worth trying! It’s even biblical! “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has set you free from the law of sin and of death.” (Rom 8:1-2 NRS)

If Christ does not condemn us, why do we condemn ourselves? The good news is, we don’t have to. It is possible to retrain self-dialogue from being mean to being means of grace.

How?

  • When the negative words kick in tell them to stop. “No, that’s not true,” or “That’s hurtful and I don’t deserve that,” or “Stop. This is not what I need right now.”
  • Treat ourselves as we would a loved one going through the same circumstance. What would we say to them? Don’t we deserve that same compassion?
  • Validate our feelings. If we are grieving, or angry, or feeling justifiably guilty (emphasis on justifiably), acknowledge those feelings are real and raw without berating ourselves in the process.
  • Talk to someone, whether a family member, friend, pastor or counselor. Processing what we feel with others helps create perspective.
  • Refute negativity with something positive. Offer ourselves an affirmation that is true. No, not the cheesy and hollow kind.  Saying we are the best parent, wife, athlete, etc. ever is just as false as negativity and not particularly helpful. Rather, offer real statements of affirmation, “I am strong and I can get through this,” or “God is with me, I am not alone,” or “I made a mistake, but now I’ve learned something.”

Turn off the “mean.” Accept the grace that flows freely from God. Fill yourself to the top with it, washing away self-condemnation and let your words to yourself become, instead, a means of grace.

Gracious God, Hold us when we are hurting. We trust that you surround us with people who bring comfort. Help us to be part of your chosen team of support that builds up and restores. Amen

Rev Doc Lorna

Photo courtesy of Pexels.com

From Desolation to Consolation

 

Bluebonnets by Vikki Yost

The last six months has introduced me to a whole other side of disability ministry. It all began with a phone call my mother received within 15 minutes of my arrival for Christmas vacation.  My son hurried down the hall, “Grandma needs you.”

Hands filled with items from my suitcase, I didn’t bother looking up. “Thanks, let her know I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“You better go now.  She’s crying.”

Thus began the journey with what we now know to be terminal cancer and my time in desolation. It is all too familiar territory. Diagnosis can be devastating for the caregiver whether for a child or for a parent. There is a relief in knowing what it is, finally, even when the news is not good. And there is grief.  Lots of grief. That process muted my voice to the parents whom I try to support.

Dr. Jack Levinson spoke at a clergy breakfast I attended and offered the keys to unlock where I have been trapped. “When in desolation, remember consolation. When in consolation, remember desolation.” My ministry has been one of remembering desolation and offering hope to parents. A voice of experience saying, “Yes, I have been there too. You are going to be alright. More than alright. You can thrive right where you have planted.”

We all move between the spaces of desolation and consolation. Some call it peaks and valleys. How do we breathe, how do we function, whether in the middle, bottom or top?

The key is faith.  In the story of Job, we see a person caught in extreme desolation. He had lost everything, family, wealth, status, health. Even his friends abandoned him, save for a few. (Sound familiar?) His truest friends came and sat with him in the ashes, for a time in silence, sharing his pain. Once they spoke up they didn’t always have the most helpful things to say, but don’t we all fumble for the right words at times?  Their loyalty was a gift in the hardest of times. Job kept the faith despite his hardships and he came out on the other side stronger for it.

In a way, I think the experience of Job helps explain the bond between parents on the journey with special needs.  Our stories are all different, as unique as our children, yet we know at times a sense of desolation. Loss. Grief. But those are balanced with joy of new-found abilities, hope in a future not yet seen, and the peace that surpasses all understanding even in the midst of chaos. The way in which parents reach out to each other offering support and encouragement to one another pours back and forth that cup of consolation, filling in all of the cracks, mending and making us stronger.

When in desolation, remember consolation.

I received a four word text from a friend. I knew instantly that she, too, was in desolation. I immediately  called and shared a long, heart-felt conversation.  Why? As I read her message I told myself, “Remember consolation.” It turns out consolation makes the desolation not quite as bad.

I waited patiently for the LORD; he inclined to me and heard my cry. He drew me up from the desolate pit, out of the miry bog, and set my feet upon a rock, making my steps secure. He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God. (Psalm 40:1-3 NRS)

Consoling God, Like Job, we praise you in good times and in bad, for you are forever faithful. We thank you for those in our lives who remember consolation. Keep us mindful to return the favor. Amen

Rev Doc Lorna

Image “Bluebonnets” courtesy of Vikki Yost

Dr. Jack Levinson is William Joseph Ambrose Power Professor of Biblical Hebrew and Old Testament Interpretation at Perkins School of Theology and author of several books, including his most recent, 40 Days with the Holy Spirit.

The Joy of Baking

Ginger Cookies

When they had heard the king, they set out; and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place where the child was. When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy.  (Matthew 2:9-10 NRS)

My holiday memories as a child are filled with family gatherings, lots of food, lots of cousins, lots of fun. I remember wishing it could be Christmas, or Thanksgiving, or Easter every day.  As an adult, I’m relieved they are a bit more spread out.  There is so much to do to get ready for those gatherings! Maybe a little too much? Sometimes the sense of “busy” robs the joy.

This third week of Advent we celebrate joy. To help make my season more joyous I’m embracing some advice a good friend shared years ago.  Simply do what makes it feel like Christmas and let go of the rest. What makes Christmas feel like Christmas for each member of my family?  For my son, it is a batch of his favorite cookies and eggnog.  For my husband it is putting up the holiday lights. For me, it’s time in the kitchen baking.  Flour and butter are like therapy for me. I get tremendous satisfaction out of creating yummy goodness out of a cup of this and a dash of that. For years my father would fly out to visit me near Christmas and we would spend hours in the kitchen together, including making about 15 dozen of great-grandfather Bisaux’s cookie recipe two at a time on his antique cookie press. I’ve not had the courage to break out the galette iron since my father passed away, but this year is the year I will retrieve it from its hiding place behind the stock pot under the stove. There is joy in butter and brown sugar memories.

It used to be that everything we did at Christmas had to be added in as part of the tradition.  We had to have the gingerbread house, and the music, and the lights, and the perfect tree, and garland draped from the banisters, and the mantle decorated just right, and a wonderfully witty Christmas letter, and … It was overwhelming and exhausting.  Now we pick and choose, and in the process got our joy back.  One year the letter did not go out.  Our friends still like us anyway. A few years there hasn’t been a tree, including this year. The world continues to spin on its axis.

There is one more thing that is the central “must have” for Christmas.  Our nativity scene sits on the front lawn sharing the good news, lit with spotlights on a lawn that my husband has meticulously outlined with white lights. It serves as a reminder that Christmas is not about doing, but rather about being. It’s not about who we are, but whose we are.  There is great joy in that gift.

Joyful God, thank you for the gift of the Christ child. Fill us once more with the joy of knowing that we are yours, forever. Amen

Rev Doc Lorna

Photo: Ginger Lace by Lorna Bradley

 

 

Peace! Be Still!

 

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“My desire to be informed is currently at odds with my desire to stay sane.”

This funny quote from David Sipress posted by a friend rings true. The evening news seemingly becomes more distressing day by day. When we already feel pushed to the breaking point by busy schedules and demands of caring for family members with exceptional needs, there is little reserve left to cope with added distress. This second week of Advent we celebrate the light of peace, yet peace can be hard to find within our world and within ourselves.

The irony does not escape me that as I was gathering my thoughts to write about peace, my newsfeed was filled with the story of yet another mass shooting. I was setting aside time to write about peace and instead found myself writing about more senseless death.

We cannot isolate ourselves away from the world, yet we can still cultivate peace. Peace within and peace without. Cultivating peace is an important part of the “desire to stay sane” written of by Sipress. We cultivate peace outside of ourselves by engaging peacefully with others, building relationships and displaying kindness to others. It can be as simple as helping someone in a small way. Anything that reduces turmoil ushers in peace.

When Jesus was traveling crossing the Sea of Galilee, he fell asleep and a storm erupted and threatened to sink the boat. When his disciples awakened him, the chaos ceased at his words, “Peace! Be still!”

At times our lives feel like that boat tossed about on the sea. We, too, need a break from chaos to find that quiet center. We, too, can say to the chaos around us, “Peace! Be still!” and claim for ourselves the peace that Christ offers. How do we do that? We can start by taking a short break for quiet meditation. It is an easy pathway to at least a moment of inner peace. When you have a few moments to be quiet and still, sit comfortably, take a few cleansing breaths and read what follows. Engage your senses in the experience of the moment.

Picture yourself lying on a grassy hillside under a night sky.  It is early winter and there is a chill in the air, but you are warm, wrapped in a thick garment with soft layers underneath. Heavy leather boots keep your feet dry and warm, and the weight of them tips your toes outward to the right and left. Your hands are deep inside your pockets, your fingers curled against the soft fabric. The air is just cold enough that the tip of your nose is cool and your cheeks have a rosy flush. There is a soft breeze that rustles the dried grass on the hillside and carries the scent of wood smoke from a hearth in the nearby village. The thick grass underneath you makes a soft pallet that your body has warmed from your lying there. Through the grass, you can feel the solid ground underneath, supporting your body, gently sloping, inviting you to relax your weight fully as you look overhead into the darkness. The evening breeze has blown away all traces of clouds and the night sky sparkles above you, full of wonder and possibilities.

The moon and the stars give just enough light that you can see across the hillside and down to the village and you know that you are safe.  A subtle movement nearby draws your attention and you turn your head, propping up on one elbow to see your flock. A brief count reassures you that they are all there, lying down in the grass with you. They are safe and at peace, gathered close to share their warmth and sleeping because they know they can trust you to keep watch. You look around the hillside and all is well, no movement save for the swaying of the grass.  You settle back once more and turn your attention back to the stars.  They are so bright tonight and you can see them so clearly. You start counting them, just as you do every night. It fills your time on long, silent nights of keeping watch and you have come to know the night sky very well.

But on this night you notice a new star.  It is big and, and it shines directly above you, a beacon. You wonder where it came from, this new star that appeared so suddenly. What does it mean? It must be a sign of some kind. It is so bright, even in its silence you feel it calling you from the night sky. Even as you wonder what it means, somehow when you look at that star you feel a sense of peace, deep and still, and you know that it is a gift.

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. (Romans 15:13 NRS)

God of Peace, bring your peace to the world that longs for reprieve. Where there is violence, let there be peace. Where there is worry and anxiety, let there be peace. Where there is a sense of “There is too much to do and I am never enough” let there be the peace of completeness and satisfaction. In our hearts, in our minds, in our souls, and in our world, let us embrace your message, “Peace. Be still.” Amen

Rev Doc Lorna

Image Candle and Flame Reflection by Richard W.M. Jones (Self-photographed) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

Put on Some Red Lipstick and Face the World

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Waiting was never my strong suit as a child. Brightly wrapped packages appeared under the Christmas tree sporadically throughout December. I would flop on the floor by the tree each morning. Shaking the packages, I would ask my Mom, “What did Santa bring?” She always replied with a smile, “Time will tell.”

Nothing makes time go more slowly than when you are waiting for something with great anticipation.

December may feel like the season of hurry, but it is meant to be the season of waiting and anticipation. Advent celebrates the time of waiting for the Christ child. Waiting with the keen sense of urgent anticipation like I had as a child, yearning for all of the answers to be revealed.

I thought I had outgrown that keen sense of yearning, but then I became a mother of a child on the autism spectrum. I found a whole different level of yearning for all of the answers to be revealed as I contemplated an unknown future.  I experience that daily with the parents in my support groups. “When will he …?” “How can I help her …?” “What if they…?” We yearn for answers to calm our fears. The unknown is so much more frightening than the known. Just give it a name, please.

How are we meant to wait? We are meant to wait with hope.  The Apostle Paul wrote the Romans, “For in hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what is seen? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.” (Romans 8:24-25 NRS)

Long with hope and wait with patience. I tell that to my inner child who still eagerly shakes the metaphorical package and asks, “Why can’t you just tell me now?” At times Paul’s advice is easier said than done.

Today as I collected prayer concerns from parents after a group meeting one mom shared an update.  We’d been praying for her son to conquer four words. After many weeks her therapist offered a possible new diagnosis, apraxia. A real kick in the gut. We all shared her tears and felt her sense of anxiety about an unknown future.

Ultimately, it was her Mom who gave the best advice of all long distance from the UK. How can a mother maintain hope and wait with patience? “Put on some red lipstick and go face the world!”

There are days that are tough, days with news that takes our breath away, days for Kleenex after Kleenex. But all of those days can be defeated by hope. One of my favorite hymns that celebrates the birth of Christ praises what God has done, “The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight.” There is hope in Christ in all things, in life, and in death, and even in apraxia. And so while I wait, longing with hope, I am digging through my desk drawer looking for that red lipstick.

God of Hope, thank you for the gift of Christ that fills us with hope. Rekindle the true spirit of the season to help us calm that inner voice of fear and anxiety and instead wait with patience for the glorious future you will one day reveal. Amen

Rev Doc Lorna

Image Candle and Flame Reflection by Richard W.M. Jones (Self-photographed) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

Give Thanks

Fall Leaves by Vikki LeBlanc Yost

I will give thanks to the LORD with my whole heart; I will tell of all your wonderful deeds. (Psalm 9:1 NRS)

Tomorrow will be Thanksgiving and I can’t wait! It’s my favorite holiday. It’s not as glitzy as New Years, nor as huge as Christmas, nor as romantic as Valentine’s Day, nor as sugar-overloaded as Halloween. It’s the simple holiday about sharing a meal and taking time to be thankful.

As a child we had the family tradition of going around the table and sharing what we are grateful for. There were thirteen of us at my grandparent’s home and I slowly moved up the ranks from the kiddy card table to the big table. Now my husband and I share duties from the ends of the table, the living bookends to all of the friends and family who gather in between with us. Some years it is a big gathering with a massive turkey. Other years the group and bird are much smaller. One notable year it was just me with a game hen! Regardless of the number of faces at the table, the tradition remains. What am I thankful for?

I am thankful for the many parents of special needs children who have invited me into their lives and share their children and stories with me. I am thankful for the healing that happens in community. I am thankful for God’s call for me in ministry and my encouragers who help me fulfill it. I am thankful for my family. I am thankful for so many things in my life. In taking the time to be thankful, my challenges feel so much smaller and more manageable.

I’d love to hear what you are thankful for. Feel free to share in the comments below.

Gracious God, thank you. Thank you for the blessings we see and feel and touch, as well as the hidden ones that you orchestrate in the backgrounds of our lives. Our hearts are filled with gratitude for all that you give. Help us reflect and share those blessings to others. Amen

Rev Doc Lorna

Photo “Season of Thanks” by Vikki LeBlanc Yost

Review: Not Worth Saving

Not Worth Saving Cover

From the first page of her memoir, Ann Joyner invites the reader into an intimate story of love, triumph and loss as she shares the story of her son, Matthew.  When Ann’s second pregnancy was very different from her first, her mommy instincts told her something was wrong. Her medical journey took her from doctors dismissing her concerns, to a diagnosis in her third trimester that Matthew’s was “not a life worth saving.” Told that Matthew was not likely to survive more than a few days at most after he was born, their post-natal plans included planning a funeral.

Learning that doctors are not God, Ann held on to scripture, Matthew 19:26 “With God, all things are possible.” Matthew proved God had plans for him. While Matthew struggled with fragile health due to a rare genetic abnormality, Ann and Jerry were faced time and again with a haunting question:

“How do you watch your child die? The answer we discovered is, you don’t. You watch your child live, however long that may be.”

Joyner 1This poignant story shares the faith journey of the family discovering God’s grace and everyday angels in the midst of their lives. Page after page shares stories of help just when it was needed, answered prayers, and improbable heroes. Key among them was her battle for medical coverage:

“Your son’s condition was diagnosed in utero, while you were pregnant with him. Therefore, all of his claims have been placed in the category of pre-existing. He had all of these problems before he was born. Your son has no medical coverage.”

Joyner 2Ann has a gift of story-telling, coupled with a strong faith that welcomes the reader into her life as if you are a long-lost friend and she is catching you up on the details. Especially poignant to me is the story of Matthew’s relationship with his older brother Drew. Parents of children with special needs often feel guilt or worry about neglected siblings who are short-changed in the midst of life with special needs. Understanding and appreciating Drew’s unique relationship and fierce loyalty to his brother is a welcome message of hope and love.

 

For any parent looking for a story of inspiration, faith and hope in the midst of the journey with special needs I recommend Ann Joyner’s, Not Worth Saving.

Saving God, Thank you for the Joyner family and their openness in sharing their lives. May otyhers be inspired by their story of unconditional love.  Encourage Ann in her minsitry that makes space for all of God’s children. Amen

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Bio: Ann Joyner, author of Not Worth Saving, proved with a two-year secretarial degree that a passionate, determined, and stubborn mother, who asks for God’s help needn’t have an MA, PhD or MD to turn a life “not worth saving” into one that touches and saves thousands of others.  Filled with the desire to show that each life has unlimited value, Ann has delivered the message in several worship services, shared with Book Groups, Sunday School Classes, UMW Gatherings, workshops, and was Keynote Speaker at a luncheon benefiting those with special needs.  Last Spring, Not Worth Saving was named to the 2016 United Methodist Women’s Reading List.

Rev Doc Lorna

Interview: Author Ann Joyner

Not Worth Saving Cover

While presenting workshops at the 2015 Leadership Institute at Church of the Resurrection in Leawood Kansas I had the opportunity to get to know one of my fellow presenters and special needs ministry advocate Ann Joyner, also known as Matthew’s Mom. I had the opportunity to visit with Ann  and learn more about the life of her son and the importance of her faith in the midst of the journey with special needs.

What inspired you to share the story of your son Matthew?

When I was 7 months pregnant, told the baby I was carrying was a life ‘Not Worth Saving’ and would likely be stillborn or die shortly after birth, I was totally devastated.  I searched for an answer to the obvious question: How in the world can I do this?  There was not a guidebook, another parent’s story, a medical paper offering encouraging words – nothing.  There was absolutely nothing which offered insight to how I could deal with what I was facing.  Every step in Matthew’s twenty-one year miraculous journey provided me with a wealth of knowledge and experience which I ultimately felt called to share.  Our story is for people facing overwhelming adversity, people who are in search of hope and joy.

In the midst of raising a child with extreme challenges you also were part of creating special needs ministries at two churches. How did you find the energy to follow through with that vision?

My energy to follow through on visions for ministry was fueled from my belief that I could be a victim or victor, a choice everyone has.  When faced with the option to either leave a church because our family no longer fit, or create an appropriate program for Matthew, God gave me the direction, encouragement and energy I needed to press on.  God showed me that it was not just about my son, it was about all those like him.  When faced years later with helping to begin another ministry for people with special needs at a young start-up church, I was again reminded that it was not just about our son.  Pastor Adam Hamilton felt like Matthew’s arrival and presence was God calling his small, new congregation to minister to all those like him.  Almost twenty-two years later, Church of the Resurrection has one of the largest ministries for people with special needs and I am proud it is called Matthew’s Ministry.

What has your faith community meant to you throughout Matthew’s lifetime and beyond?

My faith community encouraged my family to give to others – to teach, to lead, to minister, to share our gifts.  They encouraged us to look outward.  If we did not, we were destined to drown in a sea of self-pity.  Because my family was engaging and approachable while putting ourselves ‘out there’, we were attractive, even though our family was far from typical.  Our faith community empowered us to live lives filled with meaning while making a difference in other people’s lives.  We were not focused on simply existing.

Joyner 3Matthew continues to touch and change lives today in many ways. Thinking back to when you were the young mom in the midst of the shock of diagnosis, what guidance do you offer families?

When initially faced with the unfathomable diagnosis Matthew had, I turned to the church.  Without God in my life, it would have been impossible to live a life filled with joy.  With Him in my life I found joy abounding, everywhere I turned.  I gave thanks for what I did have with Matthew; not dwelling on what was lost. The most important lesson I learned is that every single day is a gift. I encourage people to try not to worry about too many tomorrows. If you do, you will rob yourself and your family of the joy God has in store for you today.

annjoynerphotoBio

Ann Joyner, author of Not Worth Saving, proved with a two-year secretarial degree that a passionate, determined, and stubborn mother, who asks for God’s help, needn’t have an MA, PhD or MD to turn a life “not worth saving” into one that touches and saves thousands of others.  Filled with the desire to show that each life has unlimited value, Ann has delivered the message in several worship services, shared with book groups, Sunday School classes, UMW gatherings, workshops, and was Keynote Speaker at a luncheon benefiting those with special needs.  Last spring, Not Worth Saving was named to the 2016 United Methodist Women’s Reading List.

Rev Doc Lorna