55 and Growing

The beginning of the “Celebrating 55” series

To prepare for this blog, I began researching what the world was like for people with intellectual disabilities pre-1958, the year Shepherds arrived on the scene.

I came across words like, “idiocy, allowed to die of exposure, asylums, eugenic sterilization, eliminating the possibility of people with intellectual disabilities, imbeciles, removed from society, euthanasia, defective, source of sorrow to their parents” and now my heart hurts and the taco salad I ate for lunch isn’t sitting too well in my stomach.

Maybe looking back isn’t such a good idea…

But looking back is what enables a person to see the growth - the awareness that grows from the ignorance, the love that grows from the fear, the light that grows to illuminate the darkness.

It was into this darkness created by fear and ignorance that God chose to begin a good work. He was taking back a place in His world for His children with intellectual disabilities. 

LeJeune

He was moving in a mighty way…

In the 1950’s, the ARC was formed to lobby on behalf of children with disabilities. The United States had legislation in place that allowed higher functioning children with intellectual disabilities to be educated. Lejeune discovered the genetic cause of Down syndrome which helped erase some of the stigma attached to children with Trisomy 21. Awareness of the inhumane conditions in institutions grew and became an international concern, leading to movements like “normalization.” 

And God placed a vision in the hearts and minds of a Sunday school class to provide love, care and compassion to children with intellectual disabilities and their families. 

Hmmm… the latter seems kind of small on the international scale doesn’t it? How does a modest-sized group of people impact a world where the norm regarding intellectual disabilities involved using words like “moron” in polite society? A world where human value was measured by IQ, productivity and finances? A world where the “defectives” were locked up and hidden away, or worse?

How did this class have the confidence to believe that they could make even a tiny, little dent in a belief system that defined approximately 200 million people across the globe as “embarrassments to humanity?”

You already know the answer, don’t you?

They placed their faith in God, and He took their willing hearts, their talents and abilities, their earnest desire to serve Him, and He blessed it and called it good. We called it Shepherds Ministries.  

Shepherds celebrates 55 years of service to people with intellectual disabilities this year.

It’s been quite a journey.

Worldwide, we’ve seen schools swing open their doors to educate children with intellectual disabilities. We’ve heard the call to end the “R” word. We’ve watched as people with intellectual disabilities starred in popular television shows. We cheered as people with disabilities fought for rights and won. 

And on our campus in Union Grove, WI, we’ve loved, supported and encouraged the people God placed in our care.

We’ve built homes, workshops and schools as God provided the funds.

We’ve developed programs as God showed us the need.

We’ve taught our philosophy of Appropriate Independence to volunteers, youth groups and churches.

With God’s help, we have brought compassion and dignity to hundreds of people on our campus, and untold numbers of people around the world.

Through all the building and growing and serving, we’ve learned so much about people with intellectual disabilities, and it’s what we’ve learned that I want to share with you in a series of blogs I’ll simply call “Celebrating 55.”

Because, as we now know, with learning comes growth - the kind of growth that draws us out of the darkness of ignorance and fear and into a place filled with awareness and understanding; a place where all people can find acceptance, respect and purpose.

A Hero Among Us

My friend Gary visits the Development Office every weekday morning.

He stops at Joy’s desk, shakes her hand and chats for a few minutes. He strolls over to my desk, shakes my hand and asks me how I’m doing. We talk about what’s planned for our day, then he shakes my hand again, says good-bye and heads over to Becci’s office where he sits in her big armchair and discusses things like his Special Olympic Bowling stance.

There’s something about Gary that’s so endearing, we forget how busy we are. We put aside our work for

the time he’s at our desk. We give him our undivided attention as he looks us in the eyes and speaks earnestly about the stuff of his life and ours. Sometimes we pray together while he’s visiting, sometimes the phone rings and we end the visit, but always there’s Gary’s promise that he’ll pray for us… and we know he will.

There’s nothing obvious about Gary however, that shouts out “I’m a HERO!”  He’s a slightly built man – no broad shoulders and rippling muscles like the heroes on the news many evenings. He doesn’t have the wide, confident grin of the heroes on book covers. His smile is big, with his mouth hanging open and his jaw angled to the side. Sometimes he drools, and we gently say, “Remember to swallow Gary.” 

No, he’s not quick, he’s not strong, he's not young, he’s not agile of mind or body. He doesn’t look like your everyday hero.

But he is one.

We received this letter last week from one of Gary’s hometown neighbors:

During his recent visit home with his parents, Gary, as usual, strolled through the neighborhood wishing everyone good tidings for the day.

One morning, Gary was taking his usual stroll when he heard someone calling for help. While investigating the cry for help, Gary came across an elderly woman. She had fallen in her backyard, breaking her hip. Gary immediately came and got me, where-by an ambulance was called and she was taken to the hospital. She is now home and recovering nicely.

The neighbors always knew Gary was a fine gentleman, but now we look at him as “our neighborhood hero.”

I want to thank you for being an influence on Gary and taking good care of our “HERO.”

I asked Gary about his experience after we received the letter. He was excited about the opportunity to help someone, and he told me he stayed and prayed for his neighbor until the ambulance arrived. 

Gary redefined the word “hero” for me. I don’t think I ever pictured a person with intellectual disabilities when I heard the word in the past. Heroes were firefighters, policemen and other emergency personnel. They were our military and others who died for our country. They were men and women who sacrificed much for another’s gain. Heroes were people that took care of people with intellectual disabilities, not the other way around.

Now when I hear the word “hero,” I think about a small man running, running in spite of his pacemaker and awkward gait, running with his mouth open, breathing hard, running to get help for an injured neighbor, running… and praying.

Just as the gentleman who wrote the letter to Shepherds thanked us for being a good influence on Gary, I want to thank you.  Without your prayers, your time and your donations, Shepherds couldn’t do the work God called us to do in the lives of people with intellectual disabilities. You have helped us influence Gary - and all the other “Garys” on our campus.  You have invested in his care.  Thank you for loving the residents and students of Shepherds and helping them fulfill the purpose for which God created them! 

We count you among our heroes.