There were young kids, teens, young adults, even his best friend, all playing together, learning and laughing. But, there was no sign of my child. I searching the parking lot where everyone was talking and hanging out with their families; not there either. Here is where most people panic. But, deep down I knew; look with the younger kids. It was there I found him, rolling down the hill, filled with that bold childhood laughter, having the time of his life. No pressure here. No one asking him to make quick decisions he had to worry about in that football game. There was only freedom and joy. I want him to be something he isn’t sometimes, but I’m learning to start finding the thankful in disability.
How many of us counted the cost (both emotionally and financially) of what it would take to raise a child and/or care for an aging parent? Many are doing both…Because we love our child, we don’t often consider the cost because we simply do what is needed and want the best for them.
My daughter arrived in the Intensive Care Unit (ICU) in the middle of the night on the eve of Thanksgiving. A tough respiratory virus attacked her lungs, and she needed a substantial amount of oxygen support. And now, this unexpected illness meant Thanksgiving was going to be completely different than we had all planned.
Are you scrounging for thankfulness this holiday season? Holidays can be a challenge for those walking through hard days. Perhaps you feel like you've been handed the short-end of the stick; your child is struggling, you’re exhausted and it seems like everybody else has life with a bit more gravy. It’s easy to focus on our circumstances, take stock of what we have and where we are and end up feeling completely void of thankfulness. Is there a cure for this?
I felt awkward. I couldn’t join the conversation several other church volunteers were having about their children’s accomplishments. After one night of serving and feeling a mix of emotions, I felt impressed to examine myself in prayer. Why was I allowing this to get me down? This wasn’t a reason to quit serving at church or shrink my circle of acquaintances, as I have done in the past. It was, however, an opportunity to push into God and thank Him for the things my daughter had accomplished.
Nothing I did as a mom seemed to help my son. None of the therapies; none of the love; none of the counseling—personal, marital, and family. Nothing could “fix” our son. But daily, as I sat and whispered Maranatha, Come Lord Jesus, the Lord showed up. He let me know that I was more than Joel’s mom, Matt and Justin’s mom, Wally’s wife. I belonged to God. I was rooted and grounded in God. My life had purpose. My true self began emerging.
In our search for ways to relieve my Mom’s loneliness, I learned four effective strategies. Their effectiveness makes me want to go back to my days as mom to a child with special needs and give them a try with him, too. Since that's not going to happen until somebody works the kinks out of time travel, I'll pass the caregiving lessons on to you.
One night, around 2:00 a.m., I saw a Facebook post: “We’re having an awful night. Anyone else awake? Is it just us?” What followed was an endless stream of comments from mostly moms talking about being awake with ASD kids. Here was a space where we could be seen and understood, be heard and not critiqued, and could connect.
