I like having an exit strategy.
Whenever we take our daughter with special needs to an activity, our family always discusses the possible scenarios that would cause us to leave abruptly. We develop a plan, so we all know what to do in a tense moment. We act quickly when she suddenly tires or the temperature affects her breathing.
There are plenty of other hypothetical situations that I would like to be prepared for so I can escape, if necessary. I listen intently to the stewardess giving the emergency instructions before the airplane takes off. Just in case I missed anything, I review the safety card in the seat pocket too. Just how does that seat cushion come off to make a floatation device? I read it until I understand what I may need to do. I want to be prepared for any possible outcome.
Sometimes, there is no immediate exit and no way to help yourself out of a situation. There have been plenty of medical and developmental challenges over the years with my daughter that I felt were never-ending. Some of them were stages in life that were simply challenging due to behaviors or developmental limitations that felt as if they were never going to improve. Other times, it was a medical crisis that threatened my daughter’s life.
During a couple of my daughter’s respiratory illnesses, she spent time on a ventilator in the Intensive Care Unit. Her blood pressure swung from high to low, nutrition depended on a feeding tube, and her lungs weren’t able to work without the assistance of machines. I simply wanted the illness to end, so life could go back to normal. I had to live through it because there was no other option.
Trials in life come in different severities and lengths. When we are challenged physically, mentally, and spiritually, we discover new things about ourselves. Trials may push us to what feels like our breaking point, and we begin to understand how much we really can take. Faith is woven into the messy situations of trials. How do you find hope in hopeless situations? Where is joy when you feel depressed and stressed from trials? How do you cope with the reality of the situation while you put your trust in the goodness of God?
The problem I seem to have in trials is that I want them over with quickly. The end of the trial seems to be the focus of my prayers. I recall one time when I was really struggling with a specific medical problem of my daughter's. I asked someone at church to pray with me. They prayed for me to have patience and joy in the process, rather than for my daughter's healing. I had never talked to God about our situation in that way. The outsider to my situation seemed to have a perspective I needed, especially when I think about examples of such in the Bible.
Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-Nego walked around the midst of the furnace. They weren’t frantically looking for an exit. Peter slept between the guards in chains before the angel freed him from prison. He must not have been fretting about how he would get out of his predicament. Jonah willingly let the men throw him overboard when he realized he was the issue on the boat. When he was in the belly of fish, Jonah prayed. I doubt he was trying to pry his way out of the fish.
The stories in scripture remind me to rest in God in the middle of a trial. Sure, many things would be better if the trial was simply over. Yet, how incredible would it be to have peace and patience in the middle of one! There’s no need to frantically look for the end. I can trust that God will sustain me for however long it occurs.
The next time I am in the middle of a trial with my daughter, I have a new exit strategy. I won’t pray for it to end, so my anxiety and stress can in turn end. Instead, I will pray for whatever healing my daughter needs, while I pray for my own patience and peace of mind. I will think about the heroes in scripture who showed so much grace and peace under pressure, and call on God like they did. While my exit strategy won’t have an actual exit time in it, I can be assured that all will be well with me.
Evana is a wife and mother of two children. Since becoming a parent, Evana has spent many hours driving to specialty appointments, praying beside a hospital bed, and learning about her children’s diagnoses. Evana is also a pediatric speech-language pathologist and serves children with autism, feeding disorders, and other developmental delays. You can connect with Evana on Twitter, Facebook, and her blog, A Special Purposed Life. You can also read more about her family’s story in her book, Badges of Motherhood: One Mother’s Story about Family, Down syndrome, Hospitals, and Faith.
