Disabilities

A father's alcohol consumption has long been overshadowed by the focus on what a mother drinks. But that could be about to change following more research.

For more than 50 years, scientists have warned about the risks of drinking alcohol in pregnancy. Recent research has found that a mother's consumption of as little as one drink a week may affect a child's brain development, cognitive function and behavior, and facial shape. For decades, public health campaigns have repeatedly said that there's no safe amount of alcohol for moms to drink while pregnant.

But as the risks of maternal alcohol consumption have become better documented, another potential contributing factor to FASD (fetal alcohol spectrum disorder) has remained largely overlooked: how much the father drinks.

Researcher Michael Golding at Texas A&M University studies alcohol exposure and fetal development. He said, "For years now, we've been hearing stories from women who said, 'I never drank during pregnancy, but now I have an FAS kid – and my male partner was a chronic alcohol abuser." But such stories often were dismissed as mothers being forgetful, if not outright lying.

However, recent research raises an intriguing possibility: these mothers were right all along. The idea that a father's alcohol consumption before conception could have an impact on the offspring may seem far-fetched. But recent population studies have found that babies whose fathers drank are at a higher risk for various poor health outcomes.

Based on the research so far, how much alcohol is "safe" for a father to drink if he knows his partner may conceive? We don't have that data. Still, he says, "If it were my sons, I would tell them to stop drinking altogether."

While the exact impact of paternal drinking has yet to be teased out, researchers agree on one thing. “There's this enormous burden that's been placed on women. But male health is important to fetal development. There is a responsibility of both parties here to support and provide for the health of the baby.”

The longevity business is booming. People are flocking to longevity meetings and taking compounds they hope will extend their lives. Investors are backing scientists researching techniques to reprogram cells to a younger state. Longevity influencers argue that if they can live long enough, scientific breakthroughs will keep them going indefinitely. “We are going to start to understand how to rejuvenate and revitalize ourselves. This is what science does,” said Dr. Peter Diamandis, a 63-year-old entrepreneur who runs longevity trips for investors.

But S. Jay Olshansky, who studies the upper bounds of human longevity at the University of Illinois Chicago, believes people shouldn’t expect to live to 100. He contends most will reach between 65-90. Olshansky said, “It’s basic biology. As people grow older, their cells and tissues accumulate damage. Breakdowns of one kind or another happen more frequently and get increasingly difficult to repair.”

Nobel laureate Venki Ramakrishnan explained the many reasons in his book, Why We Die. He doesn’t believe current interventions will dramatically extend lifespan. Techniques to reverse aging would have to help every system in the body, including the brain, over a long period.

How many times have you heard expectant couples say, "Well, as long as our baby is healthy"? John Knight from Desiring God ministries cautions, "'Healthy' exists on a spectrum of possibilities just like disability. And that spectrum is becoming narrower with every passing year." He points to an article about University of Washington scientists who were able to identify the DNA sequence of a fetus with 98 percent accuracy, and with safer techniques.

The article noted, "The accomplishment heralds an era in which parents might find it easier to know the complete DNA blueprint of a child months before it is born. That would allow thousands of genetic diseases to be detected prenatally." That means that more children with disabilities will be aborted.

But Knight also argues that many people will be tempted to order up "designer babies"—all fueled by "an increasingly idolatrous mindset that says I have the right and the responsibility to determine what is best for me — including the physical and/or developmental makeup of my children, or somebody else's children."

The Paralympic Games is a celebration of athletic achievement for those with physical disabilities. It has been marred by a growing concern: “classification doping,” (which borrows language used to describe performance enhancing substance abuse). Athletes are misrepresenting the extent of their disabilities to gain an unfair advantage over competitors.

Double amputee Oksana Masters, a prominent Paralympic athlete, believes officials are more interested in maintaining a positive image than addressing the issue. "They want to keep the warm and fuzzy narrative going," she said. "If they knew what's really going on behind closed doors, they'd be shocked."

The Paralympic classification system is designed to place athletes into competitions with others who have similar impairments. While some disabilities are easy to categorize, others are more ambiguous, relying on the judgment of medical classifiers and the integrity of the athletes themselves.

The most infamous Paralympic cheating scandal came at the 2000 Sydney Games, where Spain’s intellectual disability men’s basketball team won the gold medal despite fielding a roster with 10 players who did not have disabilities.

Physician Kevin Kopera, a volunteer in the Paralympic classification system, is cautious about dismissing the issue. "I don't believe anyone can say to what degree misrepresentation exists in parasports," he said. "Any statement in this regard would be speculative. Certainly, to say it doesn't exist would not be realistic. The stakes are too high."

The next time you're signing your name at the DMV or another U.S. Government office, you probably won't notice the black pen in your hand. It, after all, is exactly like the dozens of other black pens you've used in post offices, courthouses, and other buildings throughout your adult life. You certainly won't think there's much of a story behind the unobtrusive implement that, likely as not, is chained to the well-worn desk you've been waiting to stand at.

But like everything, those pens have a story. For over 55 years, those Skilcraft pens have been assembled by blind factory workers in Wisconsin and North Carolina. Each year they make nearly four million pens. The pens must meet rigorous government specifications: to write continuously for a mile, and within temperature swings from 40 below zero to 160 degrees Fahrenheit. The standard length of the pen has helped lost Navy pilots navigate by map. Stories say that the pen can be used as a two-inch bomb fuse, or for emergency tracheotomies. It can write upside down. It costs less than 60 cents (when purchased in quantity).

The pen has a rich, fascinating history, woven together with war, peace, postage, bureaucrats, spies, work, and play. And you'd never know it to look at it.

Much like many of us. In every room, every single person has a story, a rich, fascinating history that few of us ever think to ask about. If we did, we'd be floored, astounded. We'd see each other differently, and with more respect. Just like you'll see that pen differently the next time you pick it up.

Brookdale Senior Living is one of the industry's leading providers of senior adult care, with over 600 facilities across the United States. But employees have been complaining that the chain’s centralized computer system, which prioritizes efficiency, misses some of the nuance involving caring for seniors. As a result, they say, its staffing algorithms consistently understaff facilities, and the quality of care suffers.

Patricia McNeal spent six years overseeing facilities in Ohio and Florida, but was forced out after complaining to her superiors about the substandard staffing recommendations. She said, “Brookdale is handing you this thing that says, ‘This is what it says you need, hire for that.’ My eyes told me that we weren’t getting enough.”

And she’s not alone. At a facility in Florida, Brookdale recommended fewer employees than buildings on campus, making it impossible for staff to always monitor all residents. And at a facility in Texas, caregivers were given only 20 minutes to help residents undress, shower, and get dressed again, a standard they could not meet.

According to a report in The Washington Post, the problem stems from decades old research bankrolled by corporate executives looking to cut costs and maximize revenue. They timed a set of caregivers performing various tasks, then fed that data into their programming, erroneously assuming that all adults have the same needs and that those trends would never evolve over time. What resulted is a standard of low-skilled laborers performing rote tasks, treating human beings like widgets on an assembly line.

This labor model fails to account for the complexities of dealing with adults who may be facing cognitive decline. When any one task takes longer than anticipated, it subtracts time from the entire pool of available hours, which prevents some residents from receiving essential care.

In an email to her superiors, Brenda Jarmer, a director of operations in Florida, pleaded for intervention, “I cannot stress to you how bad it is … I am asking for help.”

Possible Preaching Angle:

Being a wise steward of resources is important, but we should never be so concerned with efficiency and conformity that we fail to care for the weakest among us.

For years, Jalon Hall was touted as a bright spot for Google’s reputation for diversity. Hall is an African American deaf woman, and had been highlighted on the company’s official social media channels. On LinkedIn, Google praised Hall and said she was “helping expand opportunities for black deaf professionals,” and on Instagram she was hailed as “making life at Google more inclusive.”

But for Hall, those platitudes were only words, and were not backed up with actions. Hall recently filed a lawsuit against Google for failing to provide the accommodations they promised her, and for creating a hostile work environment by characterizing her complaints according to racialized stereotypes.

In an interview Hall said, “Google is using me to make them look inclusive for the deaf community and the overall disability community. In reality, they need to do better. I’m standing in the gap for those often pushed aside.”

Hall says when she was hired as a content moderator in 2020, the company promised to provide interpreters to help her review content as part of YouTube’s child safety regulations, but the company refused. And a manager in another division called her an “aggressive black deaf woman” and advised her to “keep her mouth shut and take a sales role.”

Hall says she filed three HR complaints before she sued, and wants to remain at Google to help promote a better work environment for others.

As a young adult, writer Andrew Leland was diagnosed with a rare disorder that caused him to become blind. In a New Yorker article, he notes that throughout history people have either bullied or coddled visually impaired people. But he gives an example of one school that empowers the blind by challenging them to achieve new heights of independence. Leland writes:

In 2020, I heard about a residential training school called the Colorado Center for the Blind, in Littleton. The C.C.B. is part of the National Federation of the Blind and is staffed almost entirely by blind people. Students live there for several months, wearing eye-covering shades and learning to navigate the world without sight. The N.F.B. takes a radical approach to cultivating blind independence. Students use power saws in a woodshop, take white-water-rafting trips, and go skiing. To graduate, they have to produce professional documents and cook a meal for sixty people.

The most notorious test is the “independent drop”: a student is driven in circles, and then dropped off at a mystery location in Denver, without a smartphone. (Sometimes, advanced students are left in the middle of a park, or the upper level of a parking garage.) Then the student has to find her way back to the Colorado Center, and she is allowed to ask one person one question along the way. A member of an R.P. support group told me, “People come back from those programs loaded for bear”—ready to hunt the big game of blindness. Katie Carmack, a social worker with R.P., told me, of her time there, “It was an epiphany.”

Possible Preaching Angle:

In the same way, our heavenly Father will stretch us by “dropping” us into challenging situations.

His pronouncements could hardly sound more drastic. In interviews and public appearances, Yusuke Narita, an assistant professor of economics at Yale, has taken on the question of how to deal with the burdens of Japan’s rapidly aging society.

During an interview in late 2012 he said, “I feel like the only solution is pretty clear. In the end, isn’t it mass suicide and mass ‘seppuku’ of the elderly?” Seppuku is an act of ritual disembowelment that was a code among dishonored samurai in the 19th century.

When asked by a school-age boy to elaborate on his mass seppuku theories, Dr. Narita graphically described to a group of assembled students a scene from “Midsommar.” This is a 2019 horror film in which a Swedish cult sends one of its oldest members to commit suicide by jumping off a cliff. Dr. Narita said, “Whether that’s a good thing or not, that’s a more difficult question to answer. So, if you think that’s good, then maybe you can work hard toward creating a society like that.”

At other times, he has broached the topic of euthanasia. He said in one interview, “The possibility of making it mandatory in the future … will come up in discussion.” Dr. Narita, 37, said that his statements had been “taken out of context,” and that he was mainly addressing a growing effort to push the most senior people out of leadership positions in business and politics—to make room for younger generations. Nevertheless, with his comments on euthanasia and social security, which appear clear enough, he has pushed the hottest button in Japan.

Possible Preaching Angle:

This is not a pleasant or positive illustration, but it does highlight the dangers of losing the biblical doctrine of the Imago Dei and the sanctity of every human life.

Conservatives are not alone in opposing the slippery slope that is the growing trend toward advocating for euthanasia. The liberal periodical The Nation, as well as liberal disability advocates, are raising the alarm as well. The reality is that the lives of Americans with disabilities are being devalued:

Disability is something people are taught to hate and fear. And people with disabilities are frequently not given the resources they need to live or the assistance they need to participate fully in society. The poverty rate for disabled people is more than double that of nondisabled people. Further, the unemployment rate for disabled people is more than double that of nondisabled people. The responsibility for care that is shirked by the state frequently falls on families, who are overwhelmed. Instead of being given the resources they need to thrive, many, if not most, people with disabilities are treated like expensive burdens.

Diane Coleman, the president of Not Dead Yet, has muscular dystrophy and uses a wheelchair and a respirator. She says, “It is not the disabilities that ruin lives. It is the system and society that fails to support disabled people. It’s not religious, nor is it pro-life. It’s about going up against a ‘better dead than disabled mindset.’”

Coleman says medical professionals have devalued her life and others with disabilities. One member of her staff was told by his father that it would have been better if he’d died in the accident that made him a quadriplegic. Coleman said, “Those experiences are so well-known in the community.”

23-year-old Jules Good, assistant director of Not Dead Yet, said of her experience, shared by many others: “When I was 18, I got a pretty rough diagnosis. I was super depressed and attempted suicide. And when I went to my first counseling appointment with a new therapist, I explained my whole deal. And she looked me in the eye and said, ‘Yeah, I’d probably kill myself if I were you.’”

Mike Huddleston was traveling for a training. He had flown from Maryland to San Francisco and needed to get to a rental car agency. But because of a degenerative neuromuscular condition that weakens his muscles, he wouldn't be able to climb the stairs of the shuttle bus. Instead, the car agency sent someone to pick him up.

But as he was walking outside to meet them, he fell. And due to his condition, he couldn't get up. "I remember sitting there in the middle of the sidewalk in front of San Francisco Airport, thinking, 'What in the world am I going to do?'"

"[Then] out of nowhere I heard, 'What can I do to help?'" Huddleston turned his head to see a man in his late thirties standing behind him. "I said, 'Are you kidding?' He said, 'No. What can I do to help you, man?'"

Huddleston described what the man could do to help him get off the ground. Once he got him up, the man fetched Huddleston's baggage, which had rolled a few feet away when he fell. "He asked me if I was good and I said, 'I am because of you. So, thank you very much.' He just said, 'No problem,' and turned and walked away."

This encounter struck Huddleston. Not just because of the man's kindness, but also because of the way he offered that kindness. His unsung hero didn't step in and start helping when he saw Huddleston on the ground. He took a moment to ask Huddleston how he could help.

Different people who need assistance may need it in different ways. So, asking them how you can help them is amazingly helpful. It allows the individual who's in need of assistance to maintain a sense of self, to maybe feel a little less helpless, and maybe even a little less vulnerable.

It's been more than 20 years since Huddleston was helped up, but he continues to think about it to this day. "His willingness to help me — and the compassion he showed in a very challenging situation — for me is something I will never forget."

Editor’s Note: This story is part of the “My Unsung Hero” series on NPR, from the Hidden Brain team, about people whose kindness left a lasting impression on someone else.

Possible Preaching Angle:

This story sheds new light on the question that Jesus often asked, “What do you want me to do for you?” (Matt. 20:32; Mark 10:51; Luke 18:41). On reading the accounts, it might seem obvious what the person needed, but now we have better insight into why Jesus would ask this question. It is not only to allow the person to express faith, but to give them a “sense of self.”

Dr. Lisa Iezzoni is a professor of medicine at Harvard. She has done research for 25 years with people who have disabilities, to find out, “What is it like for you to go to a doctor?” She kept hearing stories about doctors’ offices “you can’t get into. Doctors who don’t treat you with respect. Care that is way below standard.”

So, she decided to then ask doctors, “What is it like for you to treat someone with disabilities?” She promised the doctors, “You’ll be anonymous,” and the focus groups were on video, so the doctors couldn’t see that Dr. Iezzoni, who has multiple sclerosis, was sitting in a wheelchair.

The result? Some doctors said their office scales could not accommodate wheelchairs, so they had told patients to go to a supermarket, a grain elevator, a cattle processing plant, or a zoo to be weighed. Some would tell a new patient, “Sorry, the practice is closed.” One specialist said disabled patients take too much time, and they’re a “disruption to clinic flow."

Possible Preaching Angle:

How differently Jesus approaches a person with disabilities (John 9)! He was approachable, empathetic, and affirming.

Muscular dystrophy, spinal injury, and other medical issues can cause progressive weakness and loss of muscle mass in a patient’s arms. Over time, muscle weakness decreases mobility, making everyday tasks difficult. But, a pioneering set of “wearable muscles” with a profile like a shoulder sling, could increase mobility and strength in the arms of people who have lost it. As algorithmic intelligence advances, engineers are attempting to design prosthetics to replace lost mobility, but many are large, bulky, or extremely expensive.

Michael Hagmann has a rare form of muscular dystrophy called Bethlem myopathy, but his muscular output was increased 61% thanks to a kind of exo-tendon called “Myoshirt.” Smart algorithms detect the user’s movements and the assistance remains always in tune with them. The mechanical movements can be tailored to their individual preferences, and the user is always in control and can override the device at any time.

The Myoshirt is a soft, wearable exo-muscle for the arms and shoulders. It is a kind of vest with cuffs for the upper arms accompanied by a small box containing all the computer technology. At the moment, the box containing the motor and computer parts weighs close to 9 pounds. So, the team’s first priority is to develop a full prototype with an even more discreet profile to allow people to use it in day-to-day life.

Possible Preaching Angle:

In the spiritual realm, believers have a disabling weakness due to the “disease” of sin and often do not have the strength they need to do the will of God. However, God’s strength can provide all the spiritual power we need to obey and serve him. “He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak … but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength …” (Isa. 40:29-31).

Many of the world’s greatest souls became their best selves not in spite of but because of their distress. The great hymn writer Cowper wrote hopeful hymns and the great artist Van Gogh brushed epic paintings while contemplating suicide. Charles Spurgeon preached some of his best sermons while depressed. Abraham Lincoln, Winston Churchill, and Martin Luther King Jr. battled melancholy. The great composer Beethoven went deaf. C.S. Lewis buried his wife after a short, cancer-ridden marriage. Elie Wiesel and Corrie Ten Boom survived the holocaust. Joni Eareckson Tada lost her ability to walk in a tragic accident. John Perkins endured jail, beatings, and death threats from white supremacists.

As grief expert Elizabeth Kubler Ross famously noted, “The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known one defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These persons have an appreciation and sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep love and concern. Beautiful people do not just happen.”

In his book Hinge Moments, college president D. Michael Lindsay shares about the birth of his oldest daughter, Elizabeth. They quickly knew something wasn’t quite right with her developmentally. When she was four months old, their pediatrician said, “Well, I don’t know what to say, but something is definitely wrong with your little girl.” Lindsay says, “I found it difficult to breathe. Grief overtook us and made it hard to get out even basic words. We prayed hard that our worst fears wouldn’t live themselves out, but we dreaded they would.”

After three years of tests and specialists, Elizabeth was diagnosed with an extremely rare genetic disorder. She is only one of 500 people or so known cases in the world. There is no cure. It involves profound cognitive disability, legal blindness, and many challenges with internal organs.

Lindsay says that parenting Elisabeth has been what he calls a “heavy joy”—filled with profound challenges but also lots of happy moments. It has also taught him and his wife key lessons about being transformed by Christ. Lindsay writes:

Elizabeth is not drawn to fame or self-advancement. She reflects a more authentic way of Christian living, one that is less interested in appearances or achievement. She takes pleasure in simple things—the taste of vanilla ice cream, the thrill of reaching heights in the backyard swing, the delight of listening to songs with a good beat and familiar melody. And Elizabeth is genuinely happy when she pleases her father, clapping for herself when she hears my affirmations.

Having Elizabeth in our family has helped us see the importance of vulnerability and simple obedience to Christ. More importantly, she has demonstrated that “walking in a manner worthy of the Lord” (Col. 1:10) doesn’t rely on superior [knowledge or performance]. Instead, it is a way of being that opens us up to fully pleasing the Lord in our respective callings.

Pastor Mark Clark was raised in a staunchly atheistic household but came to Christ once he became convinced of the power and soundness of Christianity. He writes:

I heard about Christianity for the first time at a summer camp when I was nine years old. I was fascinated by the concept of God. Not enough to get me to attend church or read a Bible but enough that I found myself going back to the camp every year and talking about God. Then I came home to a very different life: Stealing from cars, stores, and the purses of my friends’ mothers—to get money for drugs, partying, and everything else you do when you don’t have God in your life.

Mark began using drugs at eight years old and they became a regular part of his life by high school. Once he nearly died from an overdose, lying glassy-eyed in the street. His parents divorced when he was eight and he developed Tourette syndrome which later grew into obsessive-compulsive disorder.

My father was a classic deadbeat dad. He died of lung cancer when I was 15 and I never got to say goodbye to him. Sitting in that very lonely funeral home, pondering where exactly my father was, I asked myself: “What do I believe? About God, myself, heaven and hell? What do I believe about eternity and morality and my father? Where is he?”

When Mark was 17, he met Chris, a former drug dealer at his school, who had become a follower of Jesus. Mark was intrigued by his life and his passion for God. Chris challenged him to examine his doubts, read the Bible, pray, and think about what he believed about life and God.

I began to wrestle with the existence of God, with questions of suffering and evil and with the reliability of the Bible. I wrestled with the doctrine of hell and how God could allow my father to go to a place of everlasting torment. But the more I explored, the more I saw the emotional power and philosophical soundness of Christianity.

The year I met Chris, I gave my life to Christ and began a journey of total transformation. The most powerful catalyst was the Bible itself. I spent two years reading the Bible. I felt like I had been set free from all the shame, guilt, and powerlessness I had known growing up, and I was confident others would want that freedom too.

People often ask me where my passion for defending Christianity comes from. As a longtime doubter myself, I delight in showing other doubters that Christianity is real—historically verifiable, philosophically compelling, consistent with science, and full of satisfying answers to our deepest questions about life’s purpose.

Scott Bozearth coaches two youth basketball teams in New Jersey. And it was a good year, both teams made a championship run this season. If you coach multiple teams, having a single team advance into a league tournament is no small accomplishment.

He and the parents of the youth on his team credit his "can do attitude" with his success. 12-year-old Abraxus Hannah had only stepped on the court for the first time this year. “Anytime I say I can't do something, Coach Scott always tells me I can," said Hannah. "I feel like he's made a really big difference in my life.” Parents agree that Coach Scott's can-do attitude has sparked a positive change in their children.

And Bozearth knows a thing or two about working through challenges. He was diagnosed with cerebral palsy at birth, hindering the muscles on the left side of his body. That includes his left hand, which does not function as well as the right. In spite of this, Bozearth grew up playing basketball. He carried that passion into his adult life, where he coaches two teams in the Herb Henry Youth Basketball League. He believes his role is to do more than simply teach technical skills. He summarized his role in a recent interview with this phrase: "I love challenges. So, what I thought is, if God gave me a hand to play, I'm going to play like that."

Possible Preaching Point:

God is sovereign. The hand you have is the hand God intended for you to have. Now play like that!

In his book, What God Has To Say About Our Bodies, Sam Allberry shares the following:

Certain things change when you turn forty:

• The world starts becoming too loud.

• You get excited about going to bed.

• You still get badly hurt, but now you don't have a good story for it.

The fact is, when you're under forty and injured, it's usually because you were doing something exciting—jumping out of a plane, or wrestling a shark. If you're over forty, your most serious injuries come just from sleeping.

A couple of years ago, I was staying in an unfamiliar hotel and woke the first morning with hot, searing pain through my shoul­der. It felt like I'd just been mortally stabbed by a Ringwraith from Lord of the Rings. It was agony. I called reception and they sent the hospital doctor to see me.

In the end, he had to inject some painkillers—using the largest needle I had ever seen not being used on an elephant. All this, and what had I done? He told me I'd slept on my shoulder "the wrong way." One of the most painful things I'd ever done to myself, and the cause was lying in bed sleeping.

Our bodies have been fearfully and wonderfully made. But they also cause us pain. The same Bible that shows them to be God's handiwork also describes them as "earthen vessels" or "jars of clay" (2 Cor. 4:7). This simple metaphor might tell us more than we realize at first. Jars of clay are not just humble. They're weak and fragile. Invariably, in this world, they break.

Possible Preaching Angle:

But for the Christian, the ultimate end is not brokenness. There is a day coming in which our bodies will be redeemed and changed. He “will transform our lowly bodies so that they will be like his glorious body” (Phil. 3:21). “Our bodies are sown in weakness; they will be raised in strength” (1 Cor. 15:43).

In an issue of CT magazine, Kim Phuc Phan Thi shares how a napalm attack in Vietnam scarred her body, but it also led her to Christ.

You have seen my picture a thousand times. I am nine years old, running along a puddled roadway, arms outstretched, naked, shrieking in pain and fear, the dark contour of a napalm cloud billowing in the distance. Those bombs have brought me immeasurable pain. The emotional and spiritual pain was even harder to endure.

As a child, she was raised in the religion of Cao Dai (pronounced cow-die). For years, she prayed to the gods of Cao Dai for healing and peace. But when her prayers went unanswered, it became clear that either they were nonexistent or did not care about her.

One day in 1982, in Saigon’s central library she opened the New Testament. As she read through the Gospels, at least two themes became abundantly clear. The first was that although Cao Dai said there were many gods, Jesus made a straightforward claim: “I am the way you get to God; there is no other way but me” (John 14:6). Second, Jesus had suffered in defense of his claim. He had been mocked, tortured, and killed. Why would he endure these things, she wondered, if he were not God?

I had never been exposed to this side of Jesus—the wounded one, the one who bore scars. I came to believe that he really was who he said he was. And most important to me, he really would do all that he had promised in his Word. Perhaps he could help me make sense of my pain and at last come to terms with my scars.

My salvation experience happened on Christmas Eve. It was 1982, and I was attending a special worship service at a small church in Saigon. How desperately I needed peace, love, and joy. I had so much hatred in my heart. I wanted this Jesus. So, I made my way to the front of the sanctuary to say yes to Jesus Christ. I experienced the kind of healing that can only come from God. I was finally at peace.

Nearly half a century has passed since I found myself running—frightened, naked, and in pain— down that road in Vietnam. I will never forget the horrors of that day. (But) my faith in Jesus has enabled me to forgive those who have hurt and scarred me. Today, I thank God for everything—even for that road. Especially for that road.

When 15-year-old Sydney Raley clocked in for her shift at a McDonald's she didn't expect to clock out as a hero. After handing a customer some of her food in the drive-thru, Sydney leaned back out of the window to let her know the rest was on the way. That's when Sydney noticed the woman was choking on a chicken nugget.

Sydney said, "She was coughing like crazy, and I noticed she was gagging. Her daughter was in the passenger seat and she looked so freaked out. I immediately knew 'Oh, no, she's choking.'" Sydney instructed both her manager and the woman's daughter to call 911 as she quickly jumped through the window to help the woman.

Sydney said she took a Red Cross class at age 11, where she learned the Heimlich maneuver, and "all that training immediately kicked in." The maneuver didn't work the first couple of times Sydney tried, so she called on a bystander to assist. "We worked together and were able to successfully dislodge the food from her throat.”

Eventually, the nugget was set free, and the woman was able to breathe again. Afterward, the woman was in shock but very thankful toward Sydney.

Around the corner were Sydney’s parents, Tom and Stephanie, who were on their way to pick her up. Tom said, "There was an ambulance and a police car sitting there and I looked at my wife and said, 'Please tell me that's not something for Sydney,'" And sure enough Sydney is sitting outside waiting for us to pick her up and says, 'So this happened today.'" Tom said that Sydney was diagnosed with autism when she was younger. “We always worried it was going to be a challenge for her, and it's done a complete 180. It's actually been a blessing and a gift at this point. All the things we worried about never happened."