I just watched one of the best movies I’ve seen – probably ever. It’s called The Peanut Butter Falcon. It came out in 2019. I’m not one to watch a lot of movies. Few of them actually hold my attention. But this one held me. It also pulled quite strongly on the chordae tendinae (the cords) of my heart.

The movie got me thinking about intellectually challenged individuals. The main character in the movie, Zak, has Down Syndrome. The movie hit close to home because my sister-in-law Carrie is intellectually disabled. Of course it’s by no fault of her own. She’s 37-years-old now and relies a good deal on her mother and father still. She still lives with them, while her younger brother (my husband, now 33-years-old) moved out long ago, went to college, made lots of friends, and has been very successful in his job, has managed rental property, owns a home, and got married.

My husband has told me of the day he learned that his sister was “special.” He said it was a monumental day in his life, as he realized he would, in a sense, outgrow his big sister. The one he had looked up to up to that point in his life was going to be the one who would look up to him. Richard said this is one of the reasons he’s alive today. As a troubled teen, he always had in the back of his mind his sister Carrie. He always thought of how he needed to be there for her. What would happen if he weren’t around? Who would protect her and provide for her?

Carrie is high-functioning on the spectrum of disability. She is able to work a job and can read. She graduated from public high school. But it’s commonly thought that she will never live on her own. She might not marry. She’s never learned to drive. Her family keeps a close eye on her. She’s very trusting of other people, like a child would be, not realizing that scumbags exist and some will prey on her good nature – take her money and dignity and leave her to suffer.

Carrie is a beautiful person, one of the gentlest souls I’ve ever met. She is selfless, often thinks of how to serve other people. She has a child’s heart – not worried about much, innocent, fun. She likes order and cleanliness. She likes ice cream. I see the stamp of God’s radiant love on her. There’s a genuine sweetness, a lovingkindness, a friendliness and gentleness that sees the wonder in things and is simply patient and welcoming with everyone she encounters. She’s also one of the most brutally honest people I know.

Thankfully I know Carrie and her pure heart so I’m not easily offended by her ultra-transparent remarks. I’ll never forget when I brought her with me to try on wedding dresses. Robed in a brilliant, several hundred dollar gown, I stepped out of the fitting room to stand before her. “That’s definitely NOT the one,” she said unequivocally, with her eyes quite wide. Or the time we were at our pastor’s house for Bible study and fellowship. We sat in the living room across from the coffee table, which held some Bibles and coffee mugs, among other things. The hardwood floors of our host’s home had housed seven children over the years as well as numerous dogs, many itinerant guests, and even the occasional avian or reptilian pet. “When’s the last time you cleaned?” Carrie asked the pastor’s wife unabashedly and somehow non-caustically as she looked around the room.

You better hope you never have any type of blemish on your face or a bad hair day in her presence. We were with a friend (my maid of honor) once who I’m sure had spent 20 bucks worth on Maybelline products prior to our meeting. As soon as we were all within 6 feet of each other, Carrie said poignantly, “You have a zit. Right there,” pointing with her index finger at the red bump on my friend’s chin. Certain things can’t hide from Carrie.

Carrie’s also very generous. She likes to give and make others smile. Each birthday (which we share) and Christmas, I feel deeply in her debt.

I think it matters to God very much how we treat people with intellectual disabilities. It made we want to cry watching The Peanut Butter Falcon when Zak told Tyler that his family had left him and his teachers and coaches called him retarded. Tyler had enough of a heart to tell Zak the truth – that he probably wouldn’t be a professional basketball player or swimmer. But, Tyler believed in him and cheered him on to become the Peanut Butter Falcon. He saw who Zak was and what he could be. He found friendship and camaraderie in Zak. He saw strength and an adventure buddy. Someone worth sharing life with.

Richard has promised his mom should anything happen to her, he will look after Carrie. I do wonder how my mother-in-law, Carrie’s mom, feels in all this.

I think vulnerability is what makes life so raw and real. It’s what makes us human. To love and to truly live, we must be vulnerable. We must be naked in a sense. We must bare our chests and hearts – our insecurities, with all intention of living a meaningful life. Yes, we’ll be shot down at times. Called retarded. Called stupid. Called unworthy. We’ll be told we can’t do it. Whatever “it” happens to be – writing a novel, getting a college degree, making honor roll, running a marathon, running a business, building a house, inventing a great gadget, raising a child, getting that job. We’ll be told we can’t make it, just like Zak was. But I believe those of us who are not innocent, so to speak, who are not intellectually disabled, are called to be like Tyler in a sense – we’re to call out greatness in those who are challenged. To speak and even shout “The Peanut Butter Falcon!” over those who’ve been beat down and told to stay in their place. (And look, I mean doing this with wisdom).

So, I’ll encourage Carrie to be a hardworking employee at her job and to work all she can over taking a handout from the government. I’ll tell her she can work the cash register and she can be an honest and valuable employee. I’ll call her loved and valued. Wise, even. Capable. Because she is. I’ll ask her what her dreams are and think more about how I can help make them a reality. I’ll care for her if her mother passes on before we do. And I believe that in her presence, I’ll have a true friend. One who will be honest with me when others aren’t. One who will sharpen me and challenge me to be better. I’ll protect her from evil and provide for her in the drought. Together, we’ll sharpen one another.

We’ll go to Florida just like Tyler, Zak, and Eleanor in The Peanut Butter Falcon. In fact, I believe we’ll go to Florida – and beyond! ~