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?
What kind of faith do you have right now, is it sustaining faith, or mustard seed faith? A guest pastor challenged us on the quality of our faith and the nature of our prayers. He pointed out that we may ask God for what we need, but not our deepest desires. He then put forth this question, “Do your prayers make God sweat?”
Over all of those years I’ve had a Swiss Army knife, I’ve used it a lot, or rather I’ve used most of it a lot.There’s a tool on it that I hadn’t used so much; in fact, I wasn’t even sure what it was for. As I thought about this some more, I realized that the Swiss Army pocket knife, and the particular tool I was looking at, makes a great metaphor for many of us who care about children and young people with special needs or disability.
A sunbeam, streaming in through the kitchen window, rests on Joel. Light shimmers around him. As the music plays, he slowly looks around the table, looking each of us in the eye with his beautiful, baby blues. (Who says autism means no eye contact?!). His grin says it all: I have a gift for you! Please listen!
