<p>​<em style="font-size&#58;12px;">Note&#58;&#160;</em><em style="font-size&#58;12px;">All names have been changed in this article</em><br></p><p>The Covid-19 crisis has people in our churches and communities facing intense stress. People living alone, laid off from their jobs, or quarantined in health care units, are experiencing scarcity or drought&#58; a loss of freedom of movement, social connection, purpose, or income. For others, this pandemic is like a flood. Health care workers, parents, and those in the service industry are trying to stay afloat as the responsibilities and risks placed on them rise.<br></p>

<p>​<span>​<br>When I was a child sitting at a midnight service on Christmas Eve many years ago, a light suddenly shone through the rose window at the front of the sanctuary. I whispered in awe to my older brother, “Look… the light…” He answered, “You dummy. They just turned the street lights on.” Crushed, I accepted his interpretation for years. It wasn’t until decades later that a friend asked me, “Why would they be turning on the street lights at eleven o’clock at night?” Her question opened other&#160;possibilities. Sometimes our ability to embrace sacred moments depends on our ability to be open to them.<span style="display&#58;inline-block;"></span></span></p>

​When The Gathering Place focused on the theme of “Special Needs Ministry” in May, it brought together in one place ministry insights from eight Anabaptists who are writing, speaking, reflecting, and working for disability inclusion. We are grateful that The Gathering Place has given us permission to share these blog posts and videos here. Includes contributions from Rachel Gerber, Cindy Warner Baker, Janeen Bertsche Johnson, Melissa Florer-Bixler, Ross Ringenberg, and Deborah Ferber, as well ADN staff Kathy Nofziger Yeakey and Christine Guth.

​April 1, 2016, was a beautiful day in Jupiter, Florida, with the sun shining, 80 degree weather, a cool breeze, and I&#160;was the keynote speaker at the Els Awe in Autism Conference (established by Ernie Els, the pro-golfer). Life seemed perfect. Two days later when I returned home to Rochester Hills, MI; I was greeted by 27 degree weather and an ice storm. My cloud-nine experience was quickly deflated.