The little boy who prays in colours - and more stories

I’m often asked if the children and young people I work alongside have the capacity for faith. Others question why my colleagues and I continue to teach because, quote: “Why bother if they will never understand?"

Many times, these questions come from evangelical circles.

I can categorically say that there can be faith - regardless of our perception of someone’s "ability".

We often have ideas around how to measure someone’s faith, even though it’s not our job to judge. We expect people to verbalise their beliefs to satisfy our need to know if they have done things "correctly", not taking into account the different ways people communicate. Not all people use their voice to communicate; not all people use spoken words.

There are people who may not know the expected "right" words; not everyone understands that, in the Christian community, knowing such words is an "expectation". This is a particular challenge if you struggle with understanding social norms in any setting.

Let me tell you some stories, not for the purpose of feeling warm and fuzzy, but to make the point that being a disciple of Jesus can look very different within the diversity of our church families.

'You're my friend'

Over 30 years ago, I was caring one-to-one for a nine-year-old boy, in the 5-7’s programme at a large event. He had Down's syndrome and the escape skills of Houdini. I knew he was dysregulated. He hadn’t been prepared for being in a four-hour programme and had been dumped with a leader he didn’t know.

It was a tough week and I prayed that he would leave knowing something of God. On the last day, during the last song, he signed the last line: “Thank you Jesus, You’re my friend."

Following Jesus

The next story happened on a camp for children and teens with physical disabilities - in a field in North Wales. I was trying to answer questions about faith and becoming a Christian from a teenager whose communication wasn’t verbal, other than sounds to emphasise what she was communicating. She was still very clear, if a little hit-and-miss on my part - due to interpreting facial expressions combined with air-spelling with her nose.

Two hours later she answered the call to follow Jesus and the difference was spectacular - I felt privileged to be allowed to be part of it.

The Lamb of God

Now to a camp in the south, where the majority of those attending were either neurodivergent, living with the effects of trauma or were social service referrals. The children brought their friends saying: “You need to come to this camp, they ‘get’ people like us." It was an interesting camp that ran for many years and I have many stories to tell. But one that stands out was the year a colleague taught about the Levitical offerings (yes, really!).

Shaun the Sheep was sacrificed many times; there was a petition to save him, leading to the discussion of who should take his place. You can probably see where this is going! By the end, one young man - who was not a church-goer and was known for anger issues - shouted out when the expectation was to be quieter: “So that’s why Jesus is called the Lamb of God!”

Children like the ones in these true stories are regularly turned away from our churches. Families are told their child is a health-and-safety risk. Some of the families I work with are on their third church, saying that if this church doesn’t work they’ll never try again.

But there is also an abundance of holy moments across this country, where churches look out for the vulnerable, where they are blessed by the presence of children and teens with additional needs and disabilities. They don’t just give and support, they also learn from them. They see God's image in them and recognise their love for Him.

Colours

My last story was told to me by a parent - somewhat nervously because she didn’t know me well enough to know how I would respond.

Her son - who was autistic - prayed regularly. His preferred way of communication was with colour so he prayed in his head with colours representing what he wanted to express to God. I asked how God responded to him. His mum replied instantly: “Oh, in colours."

I’d love to think there are other instances where colours or numbers - or anything else that represents a person's preferred communication method - are used by God to answer a person's prayers: whatever language that individual best communicates in.

We all know the verse from Matthew 19v14 (ESV), "but Jesus said, 'Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven.'"

This also includes those who don’t use spoken language to communicate, and those who can’t understand the "right" words.