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 am no stranger to struggles as someone raising a child with special and medical needs. It is easy for me to downplay the degree to which I am mentally struggling. But I now see that when I claim to be fine when reality suggests otherwise, that’s an unhealthy denial. Here are four signs that my struggles are not “fine,” and some things that have been helpful for me, when I acknowledge these symptoms.
I am exhausted, moody, yet eager to soak in what could be the last nice day of autumn. I hear Joel’s footsteps quicken and turn to see him approaching at a near-run. He grabs my hand, looks me in the eye, grins, and pulls me forward. I wait for him to drop my hand, as he always does, but instead he squeezes it and swings my arm, his grin widening at my delight. For a moment, it feels so right, his hand a perfect fit in mine.
Acceptance is a word that has several meanings, and which can mean different things to different people. Within the context of a blog about children and young people with special needs, these meanings can be complex and very individual. But the meaning that I love the most is the meaning that Jesus brings to it, the example He gives us about how we should accept each other.
