The Viewpoint of the Rock

by jphilo | Oct 19, 2021 | Different Dream, Encouragement

The Viewpoint of the Rock

The viewpoint of the rock is one we don’t consider when watching a sculptor wield hammer and chisel. It’s a perspective guest blogger Lisa Pelissier has come to appreciate as God shapes her spirit while she cares for her children with special needs and disabilities.

When we see a beautiful stone sculpture, we marvel at the sculptor. The artist was able to take a block of stone and extract from it the image of a person or an animal. Where did the inspiration originate? Did the artist impose his own vision on the raw material? Or did the raw material somehow direct his hands to bring out the shape that was lurking beneath the surface all along?

What we rarely consider is the viewpoint of the rock.

Being attacked by a chisel and hammer is downright painful. Does the rock feel a sense of loss as huge portions of it are lobbed off and cast away? As tiny flakes of its being are chipped off by the artist? Even after the worst is over, after the incessant pounding and cracking of the chisel and hammer have ceased, there remains the sandpaper, painfully refining and polishing.

Like the sculptor, God is in the process of creating. He sees the raw material that needs to be eliminated in his creatures. He sees our tendency to sin. He sees the work of building that I have done on myself, the attempts I’ve made to build myself up. And the hammer and chisel come out.

Thwack!

This is the universal experience of the believer. God’s discipline is always worked through suffering and pain.

Thwack!

Your child has autism. Off comes the piece of me that longed for good grades, a phenomenal college experience like the one I had, a professional job, a life in ministry, all of it. Gone. In its place was the solemn notion that all my child could be was what God intended for my child. Only that.

Thwack!

Your child is dyslexic and dysgraphic. Reading is what I love best. I wanted to share a love of books with my children. My dyslexic kid is never going to love the written word like I do. I have to find another way to connect with my child. Only true, human connection counts, not a feverish love of books. If all this child has is THE book, God’s book, then it should be enough, right?

Thwack!

Your child has selective mutism. Will this child ever have friends? Will she ever give a speech? Will she ever be in a play? Will she ever speak to Grandma? My child is recovering now, praise be to God – He is refining her as well as me.

Thwack!

Your child has PANS (autoimmune encephalitis). Four years of sickness and OCD made homeschooling a nightmare. I loved homeschooling. I loved the process. It was fun. It’s not anymore, even though my PANS kid is no longer homeschooling, it’s not what it once was. Was it an idol for me? Did that piece of me, that large piece of me, really need to go? But God knows best.

In C.S. Lewis’ Voyage of the Dawn Treader, Eustace, the annoying young hellion, is turned into a dragon due to his own covetous greed and nasty temperament. Despite his own efforts to shed his dragon’s skin, it only comes off when Aslan, the great lion and Christ figure in the analogy of Narnia, reaches deep within him and painfully rips the roots of dragonishness out of his heart.

Like Eustace, I am being stripped of my sinful, dragonish, crusty exoskeleton. The first layers of rock have been removed. How much more will I lose? How badly will it hurt when I lose it? Will I, like Eustace, emerge as naked as a peeled switch, my skin stinging joyfully, exulting in the loss of the excess baggage? Will God succeed in making me into his vision for the unformed piece of stone I was? Will I be more like the Venus of Willendorf, my rough stone still apparent in a tribute to the physical body and the material world? Or will I be like the Pieta, so real it is practically alive and so infused with emotion it’s almost spiritual?

God alone knows.

For now the viewpoint of the rock must be enough for me.

May I learn to love God’s plan more than my own. It is good.

Do you like what you see at DifferentDream.com? You can receive more great content by subscribing to the monthly Different Dream newsletter and signing up for the daily RSS feed delivered to your email.

By

Lisa Pelissier lives in Oregon where she is a homeschooling mother of four (three with disabilities) and author of two middle-grade fiction novels. Lisa owns SneakerBlossom Books, offering Christian, classical homeschool Study Guides and curriculum. She also works as a freelance copy editor, an artist, and a tutor. In her spare time Lisa enjoys playing the piano and fretting about things over which she has no control. Email Lisa at sneakerblossom@yahoo.com or connect on Facebook.

Author Jolene Philo

Archives

Categories

Subscribe for Updates from Jolene

A Person of Influence in Her World

A person of influence means something different for guest blogger, Karen Jackson. She reflects on the influence her daughter Samantha, who lives with autism, has been in the lives of many.

At dinner the other night, my husband and I were talking about social media influencers. The conversation got me thinking about what it means to be a person of influence in our society and about my daughter, Samantha, who turns 24 in a few days.

Samantha is our middle child. She has autism and needs 24/7 supervision. She is also a person of influence in my life, as well as others. This may seem incongruent with having a disability, so let me explain.

Samantha has a team of caregivers that support her everyday living and help our family so that my husband and I can work outside the home. Since she is not able to hold a job right now and her circle is quite small in comparison to many others, the questions surface in my mind; “What is Samantha’s role in this world?”. As a Christian, I ask, “What are the good works (Ephesians 2:10) that God has planned for Samantha?”

I recognize that these may seem to be lofty questions regarding a person who is primarily non-verbal and requires significant care and supports. Yet, I know I am not the only parent of a child significantly affected by disability who has asked these questions.

I do not have the answers. But I have something to contribution to the conversation because I have raised Samantha for 24 years thus far and am involved in the faith and disability community as the founder of Faith Inclusion Network.

Since Samantha was quite young, we have had the assistance of caregivers in our home. We started with training local college students. When Samantha turned 14, she started to receive in-home care through Medicaid. We have had dozens of different people in our home ever since, sometimes only for a few weeks or months. Others have worked for a year or more. One young woman is practically family, and comes every so often to provide overnight respite.

Transitioning to a new caregiver is difficult for Samantha, especially if she really liked the previous one who was with us for a significant amount of time. Still, Samantha does it well. I used to be sad for my daughter when a caregiver she had grown close to had to leave. I have learned something about resiliency from the way Samantha accepts the situation, new people in her life, and their departures.

In pondering Samantha’s gifts and God’s role for her, I realize the important and even profound effect she has on the people in her life. From family members and friends to people paid to be a part of her caregiving team, Samantha shares her generous spirit. She humbly allows people to help with the intimate care of bathing and dressing. She shares her love of the outdoors and community events, swimming, the zoo, and museums. She is a faithful, Catholic woman, attending Mass regularly and participating at her church as she is able. Samantha does not accept others lightly, but quietly evaluates their sincerity and gradually lets them into her life. Once she does, she is loyal and loving.

In Samantha’s room is a bulletin board filled with pictures of people that are or have been a part of her life. I am pretty sure that, if I could ask them, they would say she has been a person of influence who impacted them in a significant way. The caregivers pictured would say they remember her well, that she was an important part of their lives for a time. Samantha’s brothers, who are pictured on the board, have written beautifully about their sister’s influence in their lives. Samantha has of course, made a monumental impact on my husband and me.

As my beautiful daughter turns 24, I am confident that God has a plan for her life, that He has always has had a plan for her. The world’s view of what it means to be successful and contribute to society may be wildly different from what my daughter has to offer, but she is a person of influence.

Happy 24^th birthday, Samantha!

Do you like what you see at DifferentDream.com? You can receive more great content by subscribing to the monthly Different Dream newsletter and signing up for the daily RSS feed delivered to your email.

By

Karen Jackson is the Executive Director of Faith Inclusion Network (FIN) of Hampton Roads where she lives with her husband and three children in Norfolk, VA. She is also the author of Loving Samantha. You can connect with Karen at the Faith Inclusion Network page.