Love for the Vulnerable in COVID-19

Like many of you, I’ve been struggling with the impact of COVID-19 on our ability to connect with others in real time. As the parent of a child with a compromised immune system and complex medical issues, I practice the art of social distancing from November through March, so this phenomena is not new to me. These current standards however, are far more stringent than my own and the isolation takes its toll some days. 

As a parent who is also raising a kiddo with different abilities who requires extra support at school, I am finding ways to creatively engage and implement Sam’s basic curriculum and therapies at home. Having homeschooled before, our family has found this school shift rather uneventful, though the inability to connect with friends, especially as the ground thaws, has certainly been difficult.

For Sam, who thrives on routine, this transition however, feels like a setback. We had barely begun to implement his new annual IEP goals that wove music into his revamped curriculum. (It’s so fantastic, guys). 

The abrupt farewell to his school days has meant:

No peer language immersion or high fives to the staff every morning. 

No Mrs. J to hold his tiny hand and help him navigate the details of his day.

No Mrs. P to cheer on his handwriting skills (he’s writing “s” and “a” and almost “m”!)

No Mrs. K to follow his impish grin down the steps, out the door, and to the playground.

No Mrs. Q to guide his mouth in forming letter sounds, words, and sentences.

No Mrs. L to assist him as he Velcros his shoes or traces lines and cuts shapes. 

No Mrs. B to remind him to sit on his square and listen to the story.

No amazing team to remind him that he is welcomed to learn with his classmates–just as he is.

Despite this ‘loss,’ for Sam, his team has taken initiative to contact me and to offer more resources and support to help him thrive at home. I am doing what I can but I am no physical/speech/occupational therapist nor do I possess the credentials and vast experience that a special education expert holds.

As we navigate this time of Sam’s separation from his beloved team, my thoughts turn toward Jesus and how he moved toward others, especially those with disabilities or conditions that the typical, able-bodied majority used as reasons to ostracize. 

I think of the woman who bled for 12 years, boldly touching the garment of the One who moved among the crowd to find her, pursuing her–regardless of her smell, her dirty label, and the judgment of others. 

I think of the paralytic lowered on a mat by his four friends, right through the roof of Peter’s house and how Jesus welcomed the interruption and cultural impropriety, and honored the faith of those five men. 

I think of Lazarus and wonder if he had an intellectual disability that made speech difficult for him. The text never mentions his words and his sisters spoke for him, a taboo in patriarchal cultures. His death moved the God-in-flesh to weep, a human response to the profound loss of a friend.  

In these stories, Jesus led with compassion, reached for, touched, and restored the social outcasts to wholeness. He connected physically, offered a kind presence, and brought tangible hope–much like Sam’s team. 

With physical contact virtually impossible for most of us in this season however, how can we practice the unconventional ways of Jesus as we relate to others, especially those with disabilities?

How do we move toward those who require additional precautions? 

How can we follow the lead of Jesus, this unhoused man who touched blind eyes with Divine spittle?

How do we practice radical practical love in a time of COVID-19 and CDC guidelines and state mandates and government regulations in the midst of our own personal losses? I do not have solid answers to these complex questions but I can offer a few simple steps.

Four Steps to Love the Vulnerable During COVID-19

1. Make a list of the people you know personally who are affected by disabilities, mental health needs, and/or complex medical conditions that make this season particularly difficult. (And if you don’t know anyone who fits those descriptors, let this be a gentle reminder to widen your circle of friendship.)
2. Choose a few from your list. 
3. Contact them and listen to their needs.  

• Faithfully call, text, email, or FaceTime at least once a week.
• Ask how you can support them in this season.
• If they express the need for specific items, confirm their approval to ship/drop off said items to their home.
• Pray for them, and if they wish, pray with them via phone.

4. STAY HOME unless you absolutely must leave (for work/food/emergency). Be willing to give up your *perceived* rights for the good of the most vulnerable.

If you feel led to donate or contact other populations in need, here are a few options to consider: 

• Local food banks
• Local Meals on Wheels
• Local shelters
• Local jails
• Local group homes that house and/or employ people who have disabilities.
• Preemptive Love, an organization working with refugees who are currently facing a food shortage crisis. For $15, you can feed a family for a week!

Our actions do not need to be grandiose in order to care for the most vulnerable, even within these new parameters. There are myriad ways to follow the One who humbly served the oft ignored, the easily avoidable, those rejected by majority culture. May we remind those with disabilities, medical conditions, and others at risk, that they are worthy to be considered and cared for in this difficult season. Though our physical connection with others is restricted right now, let’s remember that our ability to love beyond ourselves is limitless.

Featured image: Jeremy Yap at unsplash