5 Ways to Communicate Kindness and Inclusion

There were many times that children would say “hiya” to Moriah, and because she verbally didn’t say “hiya” back, they would leave. I don’t fault them at all for not knowing what to do, because I didn’t know either before having Moriah. But I have some tips on how to connect with children with limited to no verbal speech that Moriah showed me during her short, but beautiful life. I’ve also consulted with one of my favorite organizations, the Let’s Talk Initiative, which is leading the way in communities to make communication equally accessible for all. For more information, check them out at www.letstalkinitiative.org. 

So, I’ve created 5 ways to connect with children like Moriah, even though it’s really applicable to anyone since we all can make new friends! Because each of our children are different and unique, there is not just one formula for how to interact, but I believe the key ingredient is to be intentional with everyone we meet. In the end, we don’t even need words to communicate kindness and inclusion; it is a part of the universal and unspoken language of love. 

#1 Position​ ​to Say “I See You”

It’s always best to come in front of someone, and look at them straight on rather than from the side or behind, especially if he or she is in a wheelchair, so that you are physically saying “I see you.” However, if eye contact is not returned, please do not be offended or take it personally because some children cannot or do not want to make eye contact, yet everyone still wants to be seen and known. While doing this, please respect personal boundaries, and avoid leaning on a wheelchair or touch hands because some children could have compromised immune systems.

#2 A Smile Can Go A Long Way, and Make Someone’s Day

Body language and energy are easy to pick up on, and I truly believe children can feel it. A simple smile can show that you’re coming from a sincere place, and just know that if it’s not reciprocated due to limitations in body movement, it doesn’t mean it’s not appreciated.  

A smile can go such a long way, and can totally make someone’s whole day. 

#3 Instead of Asking “What’s Wrong?,” Say What is Right! 

Let’s try to change the way we approach someone and instead of asking “what’s ​wrong?,” say what is ​right,​ such as “I like your smile” or “Wow! Your shoes are awesome.” Let’s affirm the positives, and then ask questions in order to better connect and become informed. Begin with basics: “What’s your name?” “What do you like to do for fun?” “What is your favorite game?” But keep in mind, there is also a fine line between asking with a genuine interest to become informed, and asking offensive questions—like when I’ve been asked about my child “what’s wrong with her?” or “how long is she expected to live?” These are insensitive, and most everyone I know doesn’t want to explain what’s ​wrong (because nothing is wrong!), nor does anyone I know want to forecast their child’s death. Instead, try “What are these cool, different things that you have?” Or “What does this neat device do?” I believe it’s okay to ask a parent or caregiver questions to learn how to connect even more. 

#4 Take Time and Tune In

Communicating with someone who has limited to no speech might take more time. Wait patiently and pay attention​ to facial expressions, hand gestures, or even a communication device, which will help you to “hear” what someone is trying to “say.” There were times when my daughter would grab my hand and put it on a book or on the remote control to show me what she wanted to do. Other times, I would have my hands full, and Moriah would tickle me under the arms and laugh! It was in these little moments where I got to experience her jokes, and see how funny she was! I learned how to slow down, and pay attention like never before.

#5 Be Present, Not Perfect 

One of the best things I ever read was “be comfortable with being uncomfortable” by Nick Palermo in “Missing Stars, Fallen Sparrows.”

When meeting someone new, it’s OK to not have all the right words! No worries if there are uncomfortable pauses or totally awkward moments. Just being present conveys SO much, and allows us to learn each other’s personalities and quirks together. The gift of friendship that can come from being intentional is priceless. 

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#ivesaidhiyanowwhat #kidstips #5waystocommunicatekindnessandinclusion #disabilityawareness #education #kindness #inclusion #speechtherapy #moriahandfriends 

#unspoken #universal #love #lovelanguage #hiyamoriah #childrensbook 

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Why...

Today marks five years since the death of Moriah.  Much has changed since her passing, yet so much of her remains in all we do.  I (Justin) wrote this as I am preparing as a Hospital Chaplain.  Trying to answer the "Why" of Moriah's death feels like an impossible task...but it's worth trying.  She is more than worth it.  May it be a comfort to those who are still asking the question in their own lives...

              The death of my daughter, Moriah Sarjit Nelson, continues to be one of the greatest defining moments of my life.  Six months in utero, my wife and I were told that our daughter will be born with a significant heart defect.  As she joined the world of the living, we realized that she had additional complications.  Even the beginnings of her story stir up a plethora of emotions and thoughts.  Why did this happen?  Despair. Uncertainty. Anger.  If there was a God, how could this happen?  The list can go on and on.

              Her story included a one-year hospitalization in a Cardiovascular Intensive Care Unit, a year in a subacute facility, not to mention numerous hospitalizations.  When things go wrong for so long, one can’t help but wonder what the point is in all of this.  What makes it worse is that it is at the expense of a child…MY child.  She did nothing wrong; nothing to deserve such a painful existence for many years.  Losing her at the young age of seven seemed to affirm feelings of protest, bitterness, anger, and resentment.

              My Christian faith has been the one constant source of strength.  It continues to be the only buoy that remains floating in my sea of despair.  It is the one place where I find rescue.  It is dependent on the Incarnate God, made Human, who not just says He understands through words on a page, but physically endured and willingly engaged in the suffering of humanity…my suffering.  At the same time, it has often been a source of confusion.  Much of my understanding has been taught through dichotomy:  Good vs. Evil.  Jesus vs. Satan.  Sickness vs. Health.  Heaven vs. Hell.  Salvation vs. Damnation, Holiness vs. sinfulness, etc.  My intention is not to diminish nor uplift these dichotomies, but to simply say it exists. 

              So how does Moriah’s story fit? In Everything Happens for a Reason: And Other Lies I’ve Loved, Kate Bowler seems to provide a great example of what the Western Church might feel like to a person in the depths of suffering and despair:

The world, it seems, is also filled with fathers and mothers begging for their children’s lives and hearing nothing but silence.  And, ever after, every church service that sings that God is good rattles like tin in their ears.  There can be only one reasonable conclusion, says a father whose children have been cut down by disease: no one is listening.[1]

In my experience, there is a strong, unsaid pull within Western Church theology to find the hope and silver lining in suffering.  There seems to be a hunger to know the reason for every suffering and evil that leads to a satisfying, pleasant ending.  To not be able to do so is a sign of weak faith doesn’t reflect a god of love.  I admit that early in my journey, I was searching for this ending.  I was searching for this meaning.  Yet with each disappointment, the pursuit seemed foolish.  Not only that, but it felt like it was cheapening my daughter’s story.  It was so much more complex.   So much deeper.  There was no way to put it into a pithy saying that could somehow make me feel better and question God less.

              It has been five years since Moriah has passed, and I am far from getting all the answers to the why of her story.  But as time goes on, my understanding is less of a dichotomy.  Moriah’s story will never fit a simple explanation.  Instead, I’m seeing it as a both/and; no longer either/or.  Moriah’s story is NOT about something bad happening so something good happens.  Far from it.  Even writing that sentence pisses me off.  I believe that the Christian God is calling me to hold both in tension.

              Yes, it was evil, it was wrong, it was unfair, it was cruel how my daughter had to suffer.  And like Christ, yes, the cross was horrendous, horrible, brutal, unfair, and cruel.  And yet Moriah’s story was beautiful, lifegiving, miraculous, and my greatest gift to seeing people as I believe Christ calls me to see and love.  Her life has touched endless families.  Her life continues to speak through everything I have done up to this point; quitting my job with a family and pursing a God that I believe has invited me into something deeper and greater that I have yet to comprehend.  To go to seminary, work in a church, and eventually get to work in Clinical Pastoral Education as a Hospital Chaplain and visit the rooms of other people who are in the midst of their own despair.  I feel like I see everything through her eyes.  And like Christ, the cross also leads to God’s greatest display of love for humankind.  Through his boundless and uncompromising love, Jesus made a way for a man like me to know God freely.  The cross is beautiful, humble, hopeful, freeing, generous…the cross is love.

              So why did Moriah die?  Why did her story go the way it went?  I think it is both/and…none of it is wasted…it simply is.

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[1] Bowler, Kate. Everything Happens for a Reason: And Other Lies I've Loved. New York: Random House, 2019.

Hiya Moriah is Finally Here!

It's finally here, my friends!!! I'm so honored and excited to be putting "Hiya Moriah" out into the world. It is such an extension of my heart, and a byproduct of our family, and what we believe. I pray this blesses all Moriah's friends around the world, showing them that they are not alone. And I pray this teaches us to see ALL the PEOPLE around us, and to reach out by waving and saying "Hiya!" 

Thank you to our sweet friend, Will with Woodwalk for making this awesome video.

Hiya Moriah from Victoria Nelson on Vimeo.

Read Across America Week with "Hiya Moriah"

It’s Read Across America Literacy Week at one of our local schools, and I was so honored to be invited to read “Hiya Moriah” to them! 

I had a really powerful dream last night that Moriah was alive again. In my dream, I couldn’t understand how her heart could be beating again knowing she passed away, but I heard someone tell my that it was only by God’s grace and power. This dream stayed with me. I rarely dream about my sweet girl, but I think God is saving these dreams for really special moments.

It felt so timely as I’m about to embark on this journey of sharing her story, and sharing it for the first time today with 600 children. She IS living on through this, and all that she taught me about loving people, being kind, and seeing everyone for who they are on the inside 🤟🏽❤️🌈 

Yay for Reading!! 

Happy 11th Birthday, Moriah!

What better way to celebrate Moriah turning 11 in Heaven than to announce that “Hiya Moriah” is available for pre-order online through Amazon and Barnes and Noble?!?!

“Hiya Moriah” is a story about a young girl’s life with special needs. Through her brave attitude, and silly humor, Moriah is an inspiration for us all. This is a book that families can enjoy together with a timeless message about love and acceptance, and just saying “hiya” when making a new friend with different abilities. The bonus picture glossary and What’s This? What’s That? page in “Hiya Moriah” creates a space for children to celebrate how special and unique each of them were made to be.

Happiest 11th Birthday, my sweet girl. I hope you like your book. You made me a Mom, and you changed me forever. I’m just sharing a piece of what you taught me. I love you from the bottom of my heart, Moriah❤️🌈

https://www.amazon.com/Hiya-Moriah-Victoria-Nelson/dp/1633937852/ref=mp_s_a_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1548258074&sr=8-1&pi=AC_SX236_SY340_QL65&keywords=hiya+moriah&dpPl=1&dpID=51ZKI1%2B9sbL&ref=plSrch

Hiya Moriah

Dearest Friends and Family,

Today, I let the tears flow freely. Today marks 4 years since Moriah went to Heaven, and there isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t miss her or think of her. But, today, it is with great honor that I announce the children’s book I wrote in tribute to her...writing it with Moriah and all her friends in mind.

I wrote the first few pages soon after Moriah passed away on December 1, 2014, but never finished it due to my heart still breaking. Several years later, in 2016, I wrote the rest of the story in one afternoon and early in 2018, I received a publishing deal after I worked one whole year with an illustrator! But, unfortunately, due to a misunderstanding with the illustrator, there was a falling out, and I lost my publishing deal.

I picked up the broken pieces, moved forward, and found another illustrator. One thing that I learned through Moriah is that not everything goes as I expect or plan. We completed the book over the summer, and I submitted it to the same publisher, Koehler Books, who showed me total understanding and grace through this whole process.

Now, I’m happy to present to you, Hiya Moriah, coming out in March 2019!

My author website is at www.victorianelsonbooks.com where you can learn more about the book, and what’s to come.

I’m forever grateful for all of you, and the support you have always shown our family.

Love always, 

Victoria, Moriah's Mom

The "How I'm Really Doing" Since Moriah Died

You know you get asked "How are you really doing?" but you don't really know how you are doing yourself because you're barely holding on?
Well, I'm finally ready to go there...
It has been two years since I've written on the blog. I've avoided it because it was too painful to re-visit. I've also avoided having to say Moriah and that D-word in the same sentence until recently. For the longest time, it felt surreal. To say that my daughter died felt like a slap in the face.

A lot has happened with our family in this time frame, and it has taken me a while to sort out. To be honest, it still feels like a process.

The whole year after Moriah passed away, I (unknowingly) filled up my calendar to distract myself from having to think too much about the pain. I traveled, I exercised, I had playdate after playdate for the kids, I went out, I partied, and I avoided sad, heavy conversations at all cost. I even avoided God (though He graciously kept me close in a very powerful way - which I might share at another time). But, I was pretty much doing everything I couldn't do before, and I thought I deserved this time after not having any life after 8 years of childbearing and 24/7 care-taking.
At some point, I could see my husband was lovingly supporting me through all of my "me" time, but I realized that I was going at it alone. I came home after one of my many weekend getaways with a dear friend who was newly divorced, and it made me take an honest look at my relationship with Justin. I was pretty shaken, and realized that I was doing life on my own, at my own pace, and not doing it with him. I knew this was potentially a dangerous place to be in a marriage, and from that moment, I was determined to start over with him. I would do whatever it would take to walk hand in hand with the man I married, through thick and thin.
Right after this, February 2016, I got pretty sick. One night, I became really dizzy and suffered from crazy gut issues. For the next month, I was in an out of the hospital for IV's, blood tests, ct scans, all the while feeling miserable, unable to eat, and getting down to a mere 99 lbs. Nothing came up on my tests, and the Doctors thought my symptoms were brought on by grief, so they started me on an anti-depressant. Fine, I'd take it. It couldn't hurt, right? I also sought help from a naturopath, who cleared out bacteria she found in my gut, changed my diet, and started some supplements that would help with my stomach and constant dizziness. My stomach got better, but my dizziness remained.
During this time, my incredible husband was my rock. He woke up to lay hands and pray over me. He cared for the kids. He took me to my hospital tests. He did everything while I was sick in bed. He also had an epiphany when he was in the waiting room during one of my procedures...he realized that he was running from his call to go to seminary, and that he wasn't going to run anymore. Justin saw we BOTH needed to heal - physically, emotionally, spiritually, and we needed support with it.
In the summer of 2016, our family moved back to Southern California (something I said I would never do), where both our families lived. Justin started seminary school, in addition to his own business. We were ready for healing, AND to finally face some of the grief we both had been burying deep down. Soon after our move, I went to a neurologist for my dizziness, and I was finally diagnosed with vestibular neuritis, learning that a virus impaired my vestibular system. I started physical therapy, and have experienced some improvement over time. Because I finally had a diagnosis, I decided to wean off the anti-depressant...I don't think I was ready for what came after that.
I could finally feel again. And I felt a lot...a lot of pain, sadness, hurt, and anger. I was finally facing it with Moriah. I felt alone. I felt betrayed. I felt like I wasn't myself, and I was trying to hold onto every part of me, but I was losing my grip. I didn't really know what was going, and it felt like a dark place for a few months. Because we were starting over, meeting new people, Jadon and Justin starting new schools, joining a new church, I was having trouble connecting. I didn't know what to say to people when the small talk started...so depending if I would cry or not, I'd tell them the whole truth, or just part of it. I was doing EFT (emotional freedom technique) counseling with a dear friend which helped me work through some of the lies and ptsd I had regarding Moriah's life and death, but realized that Justin and I were in very different places again. I was hurting. He was hurting. And in the meantime, we were hurting each other. We knew we needed counseling, so we took advantage of what his seminary school had to offer.
After finally feeling like I've come out of the deep depression through lots of counseling, prayer, books, support from loved ones, and a newfound realization of God's love and HOPE for me, I feel like things have gotten better. I still miss Moriah daily. I have a part of my heart in Heaven, so my world isn't totally complete here, and it never will be.

But, I also feel like we were recently given a gift that we didn't actually know we needed...

This would be after we completely closed the door to having more children soon after Moriah passed away by Justin getting a vasectomy, and giving away all our baby items.
God's plans are SO much BIGGER than I could have ever imagined. I really shut this door mentally, emotionally, and physically (well, Justin did - or so we thought) because I couldn't handle anymore heartache that could come with having another child.
But, we continue to trust...
"For I know the plans I have for you, "declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11
Baby is due early October.

I can't help but think that Moriah is smiling down at all of this.

Thank you for your continued love and support for our family. As I look back on this blog, my heart goes out to all of you who have prayed, left sweet comments, and cared for our sweet girl. Thank you will never be enough...but thank you anyway.