Seasons help us to realize we’re not alone. We might still feel alone but we can see things differently and then change our thinking, and even our responses. We know everyone goes through “stuff” but sometimes we need to recognize it just happens to be our turn. The harder part is that we still have someone we are caring for full time, 24/7 added to the new hard stuff!
For families like mine, with an autistic child and my own ADHD and anxiety, Christmas is rarely “calm” or “bright.” In fact, it is often loud, noisy, and overwhelming. Our children get overwhelmed by the lights and the new items. We, as parents, get overwhelmed by all the mess and noise. There are so many sensory inputs flowing through that you feel like you are in a never-ending vacuum of noise. And, that doesn’t even take into account that I’m operating on just a few hours of sleep after leading multiple Christmas services as a pastor.
Ruth saw a bright future for herself. She didn’t have an exact plan in front of her. But at 18, she vaguely knew what she wanted in the future: a master’s degree, a husband, a job she enjoyed, and children. Emma was on another path altogether. When Emma turned 18, she was already enrolled in a school for students with more significant disabilities.
Zechariah, despite being visited by an angel, doubted what he had been told, and so Gabriel told him that because of this doubt, Zechariah would not be able to speak until his son was born. So, he became unable to speak, and therefore unable to communicate through speech. What did he do? And what does his story teach us about people who cannot communicate by speech, or choose not to, today?
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.
Whether we’re talking about our marriage relationship or relationships with friends, acquaintances or someone we’ve just met, I believe we have mastered the art of monologue and have no real idea how to have a genuinely sincere conversation. Here are ideas to help us to learn the “art of conversation” rather than the monotonous monologue we’re used to enduring or offering.
The time quarantined with 8 children, including five teenagers and one child with profound special needs, has been intense. Prior to the worldwide pandemic, my husband Ryan and I successfully prioritized self-care. We understand how fragile our mental health can become in stressful circumstances, having each experienced bouts of overwhelm, PTSD, and anxiety. May is Mental Health Awareness month. Here are ten routines we have incorporated to preserve the integrity of our well-being that may be helpful to others as well.
We all have times when we feel we’re not heard, loved, noticed, cared for, or appreciated by our spouse. In the world of caring for one with special needs, caregivers are often going, caring, and serving with little rest or reserve for one another. That is dangerous. Here are some things to consider to protect your most important relationship, your marriage.
When guest blogger Jess Ronne and her husband met, they were both widowed with seven children between them, including Jess’s son with special needs. Through their nine years together, Ryan and Jess have learned a few important skills—life hacks, some might say—while navigating the complicated terrain of special needs parenting in a blended family. Here are seven practical ways they’ve been able to make it a successful endeavor (most the time).
