The gift of imagination

What do you want for Christmas?

I remember this question from my childhood, part of recess-time chatter. In January, the question would shift: What did you get for Christmas? In my family, we’d make a big deal of writing our names on a piece of paper and then each choosing a name randomly, meaning we were to buy one gift for just one person in our family. Perhaps it was the thrifty way of managing the commercial demand of Christmas, but it was fun to wonder who was thinking of you and planning your gift.

A spiritual gift

Earlier this fall, our church spent one Sunday morning talking about imagination. We listened (via video) to pastor Juanita Rasmus explore the role of imagination as a spiritual gift that connects us to God. She expressed how imagination empowers us to envision possibilities for ourselves and the world. Not to be confused with the definition of imagination from popular culture that cheers “Follow your dreams,” we were encouraged to consider how imagination from God plays a role in the unfolding narrative of our lives.

A cultural shift

Since the arrival of my younger two children, Rachel and Janneke, born with their medical and physical needs, I have learned a lot about how the world has evolved in defining disability. That shift in thinking makes me wonder about the role of imagination in how we live with and care for each other. Back in 1980, the World Health Organization published the International Classification of Impairments, Disabilities and Handicaps a manual relating to the consequences of disease, a very unimaginative framework. It didn’t offer much hope or possibility beyond known limitations.
Influenced by a creative and resilient perspective that developed with communities and individuals impacted by disability, in 2001, the World Health Organization offered a new publication, an International Classification of Functioning, Disability and Health. The revised descriptions included the words functioning and health, acknowledging ways to live and thrive with specific challenges and the unique (and imaginative) way of functioning with limitations.

What if

At this time of year, with the focus on gifts, I grieve a little that my younger children cannot tell me what they want for Christmas or circle their favourites in the Sears Wish Catalogue. As nonverbal communicators affected by cognitive challenges, my children cannot tell me where it hurts when they are in pain, and they cannot easily share their feelings. Yet as I age, I am seeing how God’s gift of imagination plays a role in the unfolding narrative of my caregiving. It’s closely tied to curiosity, helping me to creatively wonder about possibilities within the girls’ limitations.

Merry Christmas, all. Rather than pledge our lives to seeking all the answers, certainty and clarity, let us not neglect the God-given precious gift of the imagination. Nurture and make space for it.