TV | Sighs and Hallelujahs

13Sep/091

Move that bus!

I'll admit it. I'm addicted to one of TV's most emotionally-manipulative shows, Extreme Makeover: Home Edition. You likely know the show by the screaming host (Ty Pennington), the demolition of a house and the inevitable tears from the family when they see their new home. (Nevertheless the tears from all of us who watch the show!)

Extreme Makeover: Home Edition is somewhat formulaic. First, the family tends to have at least one member with a physical disability. Whether it's an asthmatic in a house with toxic mold, a recently-paralyzed dad in the multistory house or a child with special needs, a story is told about how the current home severely limits the ability of its inhabitants to live a full life. After we hear about the needs of the family and they depart for vacation, the demolition of the old house begins. There's something great about watching an old, unaccommodating house being destroyed!

After the house is gutted, the design team gets to work with the surrounding community in order to build a new home that is specifically suited for the needs and desires of the family. Every aspect of the house is redesigned in order to make life easier for those who live there, including special touches that seek to heal the emotional wounds of the homeowners. At the end of the show, the family returns to their home town and arrives at the site of their new home. But, their view of the house is always shielded by a large touring bus so that the house will be revealed only after those gathered chant, "Move that bus!" The music crescendos and we see the faces and tears of each family member as they see a home that is too good to be true. Within minutes they are touring their new home that has been meticulously built for their unique needs.

This show resonates with me for several reasons. First, there is the commonality around disability. Although I successfully live alone in a standard condo with no special design features, I recognize how a home could be severely limiting. These are always extreme cases that, at times, threaten the lives of the family members living there. I'm nowhere near that level in my situation, but I can empathize with those in need of a home that works for them.

I also appreciate that the design team always researches and hears the specific needs of each individual in the family. You may say, "The show is about meeting the needs of the family, right? So, of course they seek to meet them." Yes, but people with disabilities live their lives being flexible and doing whatever necessary to survive and react to a society that rarely seeks to meet their needs. To be listened to is a big deal; to have your home rebuilt to meet your special needs is quite another.

Finally, this show is all about redemption. It's about moving a family that was in darkness to a place of light and hope, simply by constructing a new home around their specific needs. I have no doubt that the looks of shock, the tears of joy and the smiles are real when the home is revealed. What an unbelievable transformation -- these families' lives have been significantly changed in the matter of seven days!

At a larger level, I recognize what it's like to live in a world that was not built for a man without arms and I hope for redemption. I long for the day when my needs will be heard and understood -- and, furthermore, that those longings will be met. (Now, you can start praying that I'll grow arms -- you wouldn't be the first -- but, those old ladies' prayers weren't answered and I'm not sure I'd know what to do with arms even if they dramatically appeared.)

Simply put, I long for heaven. One day I'll stand with the angels and those gone ahead of me and this will be our earnest plea -- "God, move that bus!!!" I'll yell it with all my might and I fully expect tears as my new home is revealed -- a home where a disability no longer limits me in any way.