DISABILITIES HAVE A WAY of tying all things together. Flannery O’Connor, the great Southern novelist, once wrote a collection of stories entitled, Everything That Rises Must Converge. I find that image indefatigably true. When we encounter disabilities in ourselves or in our loved ones, over time things seem to mysteriously converge. Carl Jung called such moments “synchronicities;” Presbyterians, I suppose, call it Providence.
I experienced one such moment last month, as my family and I attended Camp Levi, our church’s annual summer camp for families affected by disabilities. Named after my disabled son, Levi, each year Camp Levi hosts around 300 people—some with disabilities and others serving those affected. Each year I am reminded of the strange, providential convergence of things: disability, grief, rejection—yet also beauty, laughter, community, and healing. Camp Levi, having now completed its fourth year in operation, is genuinely a great Jacksonville story—and like many great Jacksonville stories, the seeds of Camp Levi were planted in the pioneer days of the 1850’s.
You see, back in 1853, William and Caroline Hoffman, and their six daughters, set out from Indiana for Jacksonville. Theirs was an atypical Jacksonville story. Rather than gold, the Hoffmans’ motivation was to find relief for Caroline’s debilitating asthma—a disability that so affected her that their family doctor pleaded with them to find new climate out West.
The move proved a resounding success: Caroline lived until the age of 86, William became the Clerk of Jackson County, and all six daughters eventually married (Julia, the third oldest, married Cornelius Beekman). The Hoffmans were also instrumental in establishing Jacksonville Presbyterian Church. In fact, after Rev. Moses Williams’ inaugural sermon on November 22, 1857, the church’s first order of business was to elect William as an elder.
Now, the degree to which you find any of this interesting is likely the same degree to which disability happens to affect you. Or at least that was the case for Annie Brown. A few years ago, Annie, who resides near Portland, happened to notice an advertisement for Camp Levi and its ministry to people like her young neuroatypical daughter. Not only was the prospect of a retreat for her family intriguing, Annie also noticed that the host group was Jacksonville Presbyterian Church. The name struck a chord; Annie recalled that her fourth great-grandparents had been founding members of Jacksonville’s Presbyterian Church. Her fourth great-grandparents were none other than William and Caroline Hoffman.
As we sat around the fire at Camp Levi one night, Annie and her husband recounted this story to me. Annie tied it together that it was Caroline Hoffman’s disability that brought their family to Jacksonville. That it was only fitting that Annie’s great-grandparents’ legacy would find a way to bless her young daughter. And Annie tied it together that without my need to move to Oregon to find better care for my disabled son, there would be no camp named after him. As the warmth from the bonfire rose, I could see everything converging.
Like William Hoffman, I, too, have six children and a beloved wife named Caroline. Like the Hoffmans, we happen to be Presbyterians and we also moved across the country to Jacksonville in search of support for our family’s disabilities. And I like to think that just as Caroline Hoffman found providential grace in the hills of Jacksonville and in the sanctuary of our church, we, too, have found grace through the kindness of our Jacksonville neighbors, through Levi’s teachers at Jacksonville Elementary, and, of course, in the church that the Hoffmans helped plant so many years ago.
Rev. Dustin Jernigan serves as pastor of Jacksonville Presbyterian Church, which has been worshipping in Jacksonville since 1857. He and his wife, Caroline, count it all grace to raise their six children in Jacksonville. JPC worships on Sundays at 425 Middle St, 9am & 10:45am.