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(31 Days) A Difficult Mind: Day 20, Trust

October 20, 2014

I’ve joined the 31 Day Blogging Challenge…31 Days of exploring what it means to live with a neurodiverse child. #write31days

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Trust requires a huge amount of bravery.

By nature, I am a high risk taker and discerningly trusting in a lot of situations. I think it is okay if things are hard and if we really want to love well there are parts of ourselves and our lives that we entrust to others.

This is well and good as it applies to me personally. When I first became a parent I had very little fear of leaving my son with people we trusted or taking him places, like school, where another adult was in charge.

Then I went through a phase where I was terrified. I trusted no one.

No one could take care of my son like I could. No one knew what he needed like I did. No one could help him and comfort him in the same way I did.

Some of this distrust grew out of experience. I’ve been called home more than once by a babysitter because my son can’t be managed. I’ve seen teachers react to my son inappropriately, even after I’ve tried to gently explain where he is in his development. After an intense season of this I just gave up. Why trust people when it all comes back to me anyway?

If you want to isolate people, stop trusting them. Stop trusting that they love you enough to care. Stop trusting that they really want to help. Stop trusting that they might have some life experience or skill to offer.

At the point I stopped trusting I started drowning.

I carried the burden of my son alone. I wasn’t comfortable leaving him with a babysitter, even family. I was skeptical of teachers and took great pains to be overly involved. I said no to a lot of personal opportunities because I didn’t trust people to care enough about me. And then I was alone.

I still knew people and waved hello and seemed social and involved. But no one was being let in and I was not letting myself out.

We as humans were created to be in relationships with one another. We are meant to love, encourage, support, give, build up and hold accountable. In relationships we are reminded how deep and wide love really is and how amazing grace appears.

So I took baby steps back into trusting.

I started with my husband. We talked, we made a plan, I let him in and let go. He has taken on the responsibilities of managing my sons therapy each week he goes. Those first few weeks were so hard. I wanted to be there. To see, hear and know, but so does my husband. He’s a great dad and loves our son deeply, I have to trust him.

Then I started with a friend. I began to tell her what it was like, the ugly hard things on this journey. I sent texts when I was in despair and didn’t try and make the bad days look pretty. She knows me better than almost anyone and she prayed. She sent encouraging words. She checked in on me and told me to snap out of it when self pity poured in. She loves me, she loves my son, in trusting her I am able to both be loved and give love in a new way.

I started trusting those outside my circle. Teachers I didn’t know well, church volunteers I only knew from a distance, therapists who were new and unknown. If someone is able and willing to give their time and energy to work with my son, they deserve my respect. In respecting them for their own gifts and abilities I am learning to trust them.

I’d love to say that I’ve come to a calm place of being discerning and then more trusting when it comes to my son, but I haven’t. I still arrange special babysitting for him so a college sitter doesn’t get stuck in a bad situation, I still quickly engage teachers and volunteers and ask what they are doing with my son and judge if it’s what is best, I still get nervous when my husband takes my son to therapy and they are gone for hours.

Trust is a process. It requires me to bravely engage every single day with the people who love me and love my son. Trust begs me to fall to my knees and pray.

Pray for discernment. Pray for insight. Pray for the people who care for my son. Pray for faith. Pray for comfort from the great comforter and wisdom from the giver of life.

In saying I believe in God I have to trust that there are people in our life meant to be a part of our sons story.

We believe that our son is meant to be a lively member on this earth. If we are going to do our part to get there, we have to trust.

Trust requires us to be brave. Bravery requires us to have faith.

“Faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we can not see.”

“Hope and sorrow in it all there’s rescue and there’s not.”

There’s Rescue: There are amazing people in our life that we can trust. My husband is totally involved, our sons teacher is going the extra mile to include our son, we have friends who have worked with children like our son who love him as their own, we have family who really do want the best for our son and willingly follow our lead to provide what he needs.

There’s Not: In my flesh I fall short. I let fear creep in, I push people out, I can let one bad experience taint weeks of interactions. Holding on to what I know to be true is a hard task.

Today I am thankful that there are people who still trust me and love me even when I have pushed them away. Greater love has no one than a friend who sacrifices himself for you.

Linking up with Unforced Rhythms today…

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(31 Days) A Difficult Mind: Day 19, Rest

October 19, 2014

I’ve joined the 31 Day Blogging Challenge…31 Days of exploring what it means to live with a neurodiverse child. #write31days

 

Glove

“Your life sounds really stressful.”

“That sounds like a lot of work and very tiring.”

“I bet it gets really loud and crazy at your house.”

Yes, yes and yes. Our life is a little stressful, a lot of work, very tiring and loud doesn’t even cover it on some days. These comments are often followed with statements like “I don’t know how you do it all the time” or “I could never do what you do”.

While I appreciate that there is some recognition of all the effort it takes to do what we do, let’s have a moment of truth.

It isn’t always easy. I don’t always enjoy it. There are days where my attitude is awful. Follow through on things we are trying to implement doesn’t always happen. There are days I binge watch BBC TV Series (Sherlock, Downton Abbey or Call the Midwife anyone?) just like everyone else.

There are days when my response to my kids is less than patient and my voice is more than loud. Occasionally the consequences I give are to much and the encouragement to little.

We are all running the race of life. Races are tiring. Sometimes I just want to sit by the side of the road and catch my breath or give up all together and call it quits.

Many parents and care givers do give up. It’s easier. It is simpler to ignore than it is to engage. I absolutely understand why people running the race while they try and bring along a Difficult Minded child quit. I have wanted to more than once.

Then there is rest.

It is impossible to give and give and give if we haven’t taken the time to rest. We will burn out without rest, we will give up without renewal, we will quit when we don’t take time to look up from our race and know there is victory ahead.

Rest looks differently for everyone. My version of rest has a couple layers:

-Sleep. Actually, naps. Some days by the time 9am rolls around I’ve fought the physical battle to get my son to school and I am exhausted. I could use the afternoon rest time for the other kids to work, read, clean – a thousand other things but, if I want to run my race well, I have to stop and physically refuel. An hour nap on our living room couch without any feelings of guilt can be exactly what I need to not just make it through the day but also go the extra mile.

-Retreat. Leaving my home, alone, is an amazing experience for me. A morning running errands alone or an evening of coffee and cupcakes with a friend calls me back to who I am, my heart. Not only is my son not defined by his Difficult Mind, I am not defined by my son. I have hobbies and interests and friends and life outside of my struggle with my son. I am a uniquely made and lovingly called woman with a purpose. Leaving my home alone reminds me of that!

-Travel. I grew up traveling, it’s part of what makes me who I am and it speaks to me and energizes me in a big way. When I’ve done all the sleeping and retreating I can but still can’t see the sun through the rain, I travel. We aren’t wealthy so I’m not taking European vacations but I do travel to the cities near me and visit museums, restaurants and gardens. I often go alone just for a break but even with others I enjoy a great sense of renewal and beauty in traveling.

This thing we do is hard. Being “ON” all the time wasn’t what I signed up for when I became a parent. Yet here we are.

We have this son and this marriage and these therapists and this time. We only get one shot at making the best decisions we can with the knowledge and resources we have. I want to do my best to give our son and everyone he interacts with the best chance at having good relationships.

To get there, I have to have rest. Physical, spiritual, mental and emotional rest.

So yes, this thing we are trying to do is hard, tiring, takes work, is stressful and absolutely gets loud.

I make a choice every day to do it. I make a choice to be the best advocate, mom, friend and wife I can for my son.

This means I also choose rest, I choose to be whole from the inside out so that my son has a chance to be whole from his inside out too.

 

“Hope and sorrow in it all there’s rescue and there’s not.”

There’s Rescue: I have a husband who helps me get the rest I need. I live near family who is always willing to pitch in when they are called on. I have friends that call me out when I need rest and do what they can to help me get it.

There’s Not: I go too long between times of rest. I over estimate my capacity and then fall short when it comes to our son. I’m still learning what it means to rest well.

Today I am thankful for the ability to rest, even when it comes in small amounts, it always makes a difference.

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(31 Days) A Difficult Mind: Day 18, Selfishness

October 18, 2014

I’ve joined the 31 Day Blogging Challenge…31 Days of exploring what it means to live with a neurodiverse child. #write31days

By Darcy Demmel

By Darcy Demmel

 

At dinner we go around and talk about our day. Everyone is asked what the best part of their day was and what the hardest part of their day was.

On this particular night our son was telling us about the best part of his day which had something to do with earning invincibility powers on his Lego game. We continued around the table and as our 2.5 year old talked, our son started back in with more details about invincibility. In a 60 second span we had to ask him 4 different times to please let our daughter finish.

Kids interrupt, it happens, but with our sons Difficult Mind he just keeps talking until his thought is complete. It doesn’t matter who is listening, where he is or how he might be inconveniencing someone. I’ve had him follow me around the house while I dry, fold and put away entire loads of laundry. He doesn’t even flinch.

Selfishness for personal gain is one thing. When the Difficult Mind is being selfish, they don’t actually know they are being selfish.

This is one of those things I wish I could explain better and that I could be more patient with.

I’ve talked about our son only being able to experience one thing at a time. Because of that if he has a thought, he has to complete it.

I know, put my foot down already, just interrupt him and tell him to stop, I’m the authority figure after all. Yeah, that doesn’t really work. The outcomes of interrupting a thought vary but they usually fall into one of these categories:

  • Instant Anger. “You don’t ever listen to me. You don’t care about anything I ever say.”
  • Ignoring. He will just talk over you.
  • Crying. Sometimes the talking is a cover for anxiety that has built up. If you stop the thought he may take a sharp left turn, start crying and tell you something entirely different. While I want to hear what is really going on, this is not a good way to approach it.

If he keeps talking we have an entirely different set of problems:

  • Completing a task. It is quite hard to manage a sibling dispute, take a phone call or help a sibling with homework when someone is following you around talking.
  • Feeling left out. If our son is always talking his siblings feel like they are not as important. They can’t ask a question and receive and answer, can’t have a conversation with me and can’t even share at family dinner without their brothers selfishness stepping in. His constant talking automatically makes him the center of attention.
  • Annoyance. There are 6 people in our house, if one person feels the need to constantly talk and be the center of attention annoyance sets in pretty quickly. Annoyance leads to impatience and impatience leads to frustration and frustration either comes out as anger or requires immense amounts of self-control.

So how do you live with a constantly selfish person when they don’t understand the concept of selfishness?

As humans, we are all selfish. We all have that tendency to do what we want to do when we want to do it. Assessing each situation and owning up to our own selfishness will help us quit erroneously pointing the fingers at others when we are really the problem.

We try to guide. We’ve adopted a stance of teaching all our children character traits. To combat selfishness with our son we spend a lot of time talking about self-control. Self-control means having a choice. Choosing to listen when I ask him to wait, choosing to be calm instead of reacting harshly. There isn’t a strong connection there yet, but we are trying.

Be a truth teller. Instead of moving straight to frustration we have to take the steps to be detailed truth tellers to our son. We have to say the words “It hurts your sisters feelings when she doesn’t have a chance to share her story, you need to give her a turn” or “I cannot listen to you right now because I am helping your sister with homework, you will have to wait.” Most kids understand taking turns and being respectful at a certain age but our son does not. He has not shown us he understands that his actions affect how people think, feel and react.

Give grace. This goes back to being able to accept that our son is actually struggling. No amount of teaching, telling, guiding or training will change parts of who he is. Being selfish is one of the biggest hurdles he faces. As he faces these hurdles we have to give grace when he trips up and falls. It doesn’t mean we give in and just let him have his way but it does mean there are times we do, and we do so gracefully and willingly.

As a family who values service and compassion, selfishness may be the biggest tension we face.

However, having a selfish by default son won’t stop us from loving him for who he is and helping him find his place and calling in the world.

 

 

“Hope and Sorrow in it all there’s rescue and there’s not.”

There’s Rescue: There are moments where our son is easily guided and he chooses self-control over selfishness. I am deeply grateful for each of those moments because they are rare.

There’s Not: Compassion is something that we can show and teach but we cannot make our son adopt that value. My heart breaks when I see him so deep into his own little world that he cannot see the people around him.

Today I am looking my own selfishness in the mirror and making a commitment to love more and demand less.

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(31 Days) A Difficult Mind: Day 17, Giving In

October 17, 2014

I’ve joined the 31 Day Blogging Challenge…31 Days of exploring what it means to live with a neurodiverse child. #write31days

 

Reading Alone

First he went to school early. Then he had a full day at school. Straight from school he and his dad drove the 50 miles to therapy. An hour therapy session and the 50 mile trek back he walks into my kitchen, nose in a book and plops down.

It’s 6:35pm. It’s past dinner time. Everyone else including the baby has eaten. When I ask him what he wants for dinner he says “nothing”. I know he’s hungry so I push and ask again, he says in an amazingly angry tone “I am not hungry. I am not eating” and then he goes back to his book.

My instinct is to keep pushing. It’s been a long day, he didn’t really have a snack after school and it’s an hour past our normal dinner time. I’m about to demand he put down the book and eat.

Then my husband gives me that look and I go sit on the couch and take a breather.

My experience tells me that he’s in the zone. He can’t stop. His Difficult Mind does not have the ability to shift from the pleasure of reading to the need for food. When he finishes reading he will actually be able to come out of whatever world he’s in and think about hunger and nourishment.

This is where I have to decide if I give in to neurodiversity or fight it.

Parenting is hard and we all have to make decisions. There are 1,000 different methods, styles and traditions. You can’t mainstream parenting, if you could there would be a manual! Even in the same house kids are parented differently.

When we encounter parents who do things differently it is often our instinct to judge, to see our parenting as right and their parenting as wrong. To tell that mom to take a little authority, force more consequences or just chill out.

Put the shoe on the other foot for a moment. Actually just take your shoes off. Get down to nitty gritty bare feet.

How do you choose when to get tough and when to lighten up? When to lead and when to follow? When to make the decision or make the decision theirs?

Without declaring anything specific, our parenting choices come back to our values. How we see our children and their purpose and how we choose to define our parenting role and our purpose, it all comes back to values.

In our house we value a lot of things, among the most important for us is the value of uniqueness. We believe that each human is created uniquely and is distinctly different from anyone else in the world. We also believe that this trait of being unique means each of us has something only we can give or do in the world.

So do I force my son to put down the book and eat dinner? Or does his uniqueness warrant something else?

Tonite we decide no. He’s had a long day, everyone else ate while he was at therapy so he isn’t losing family time, he doesn’t have anything else to do tonite and he is reading, not zoning out unnecessarily or being disruptive. Today we give in.

With a Difficult Mind we face this struggle all day long every day. Give in and avoid the fight or engage, fight the battle and try and steer the course?

The Difficult Mind would love nothing more than to always have its way. The Difficult Mind, when given its way too often, wants more and more control and becomes harder to communicate with, not easier to manage.

Parenting is a great balance of wisdom and reason. Of practicality and training. Of guiding and releasing. Add in a child that is not only unique but also struggling and its the same balancing act but with a blindfold on.

So, while it seems from the outside that my difficult minded son sure gets his way a whole lot, know that decision is never made lightly. Every time we choose to give in, we are running the risk that he will take a mile when all we were trying to give was a gracious inch.

Embrace grace for all the parents you know. Encourage them not in the how to’s but in the whys. Don’t judge their actions, build up their character. In doing so you empower one more parent to parent well.

Today, I gave in. He finished his book, ate well and there wasn’t a battle. He politely got up from the table and had a great evening.

Tomorrow is a different day.

 

“Hope and sorrow in it all there’s rescue and there’s not.”

There’s Rescue: Recognizing that giving in does not mean giving up has been a gift of grace. We are able to be more flexible and tune in to our sons needs, giving him what he needs but not always what he wants.

There’s Not: Sometimes there is no clear answer. Standing firm or giving in both seem like unproductive choices. This is a battle we fight every day and it’s exhausting.

Today I am thankful for grace and compassion and mercy. In these things we know that one wrong decision does not ruin everything, peace in the present, hope for the future.

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(31 Days) Difficult Minds: Day 16, House, Home and Leaving It All

October 16, 2014

I’ve joined the 31 Day Blogging Challenge…31 Days of exploring what it means to live with a neurodiverse child. #write31days

 

Learning

 

Oh dear readers. You bless me and encourage me. Your comments and messages and emails and texts. Your willingness to listen, be broken, try harder and be more to someone who is less. You are a gift.

Do you know who you are?

You are parents living with difficult kids, teachers leading difficult minds, friends learning how to love difficult children you know, pastors leading difficult churches.

Collectively you are souls feeding souls. Let these words encourage you today!

Our house is the one place our son feels completely safe. One of the most exhausting things for us is leaving the house.  He likes to be at home and every time we manage to leave it is a small miracle.

Leaving home automatically puts up defenses. Where are we going, is it a place I feel safe and comfortable? Who is going to be there, people I know and who already accept me or strangers which makes me nervous? What are we doing, is it an activity I will enjoy or something I’m being forced to engage in? Any one of these things, if approached the wrong way, can lead to screaming/yelling/physical tantrums /terrible words or all of the above.

For Us: “Talk it out before you walk it out” says Sally Clarkson. It’s good advice for any parent but particularly the ones leading Difficult Minds. We try and answer all the questions and imagine all the potential positives as clearly and simply as we can. While this doesn’t fix everything, it does help!

For Fellow Parents: Do whatever works for you and your particular child, there is no one way. If you are new to this journey, Practice and Prepare! Overshare with your Difficult Mind. Have the hard conversations at home before you leave. This means we may set aside 30+ minutes before we leave but if it makes our time out of the house more manageable, every minute was worth it.

For the Teachers: Transitions are hard! Having a visual schedule in your classroom or at that child’s desk and always giving 5 minute warnings before the next transition might save your whole day. Setting a timer and giving the Difficult Student the responsibility to turn it off might be just the thing you need to help them move easily along with the class.

For the Friends: Find out what interests the Difficult Child in your life and learn about it, talk about it with them, become an expert in it. It may not be the most interesting subject but it will make that child feel loved and safe in ways you will never understand.

For the Pastors: Difficult Minds exist everywhere, even in churches. Find people (who aren’t you) in your community willing and able to take a special interest and love and connect with these people. As a pastor pray for them so your heart will be gentle towards them when your plate is already too full. Minister to them by sharing the encouraging words of scripture with them, let the Gospel speak through your gifting of teaching and leading.

As parents, teachers, friends and pastors you are the people I trust and hope for every time I leave my home with our son. The gift of loving our son and becoming a safe person to him does not go unnoticed. We are forever grateful.

“Hope and sorrow in it all there’s rescue and there’s not.”

There’s Rescue: There are some very precious safe people in our life that make it possible to leave our home without too much stress.

There’s Not: Every time we leave our home it is work. It would be nice to just pick up and go on occasion.

Today I am thankful for people who have loved us by becoming safe people for our son. Saying thank you will never be enough.

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(31 Days) A Difficult Mind: Day 15, All the Joy

October 15, 2014

I’ve joined the 31 Day Blogging Challenge…31 Days of exploring what it means to live with a neurodiverse child. #write31days

 

Joy

So where’s the joy? If there’s so much crying and grief where does one uncover joy?

It’s uncovered in the everyday things. Some joy, like watching my son receive a very special play costume from his dad, is right in your face. You bask in it and live in it as long as the moment lasts.

Other joy has to be searched for. Joy is like a hidden treasure, sometimes buried very deep but when found a greater reward than you could have ever hoped for.

Here are some highlights of joy from this month…

In Homework…Every day all year when there has been homework my son has obediently and gladly completed it. I am beyond thankful for his teacher this year who is speaking his language and a therapist who has helped us create a rhythm for success in this area.

In Sleep…Only one night all school year has our son needed a sleep aid. This summer it was almost every night. Thankful and full of joy that our son feels at peace enough to physically rest.

In Character…Every school day, except for a few, our son has carried out his commitment to complete Bible time. It is a great joy to me to see him choose this and engage in it on his own and beyond that, enjoy it and ask good questions.

In Communication…On at least three occasions our son has been able to approach us in tense-to-him situations and clearly communicate his needs and his feelings. I find joy in seeing him be his whole self, inside and out.

In Independence…The day to day ability to make his own bed, put away his own clothes and dress himself most days brings joy to me. While he may still be behind his peers, he has made so much personal progress that just seeing him dressed at the breakfast table makes my heart skip a beat.

On days where joy seems silent I am forced into self reflection. What have I done to see the joy in our day? Where am I cultivating a place of joy in my home? How am I speaking joy to others in my life?

I often meditate on this quote from Ann Voskamp…

“Humbly let go. Let go of trying to do, let go of trying to control, let go of my own way, let go of my own fears. Let God blow His wind, His trials, oxygen for joy’s fire. Leave the hand open and be. Be at peace. Bend the knee and be small and let God give what God chooses to give because He only gives love and whisper a surprised thanks. This is the fuel for joy’s flame. Fullness of joy is discovered only in the emptying of will. And I can empty. I can empty because counting His graces has awakened me to how He cherishes me, holds me, passionately values me. I can empty because I am full of His love. I can trust.”

The more I let go of my preconceived expectations of what parenting should be and the heavy notion that a Difficult Mind is all doom and gloom, the more I see joy.

Joy comes in the mourning and peace along with it.

“Hope and sorrow in it all there’s rescue and there’s not.”

There’s Rescue: Joy does exist in the everyday struggles of parenting a Difficult Mind. Taking time to acknowledge and share and celebrate keeps joy at the heart of this journey.

There’s Not: Seeing the joy takes work. It is an intentional practice. Maybe one day it will just be habit but for now, I constantly return to a place of working hard to see the joy.

Today I am thankful for the ability to celebrate and in celebration feel genuine joy through the every day struggles.

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(31 Days) A Difficult Mind: Day 14, The Grief Cycle

October 14, 2014

I’ve joined the 31 Day Blogging Challenge…31 Days of exploring what it means to live with a neurodiverse child. #write31days

 

Serious

 

There are five stages to the grief cycle. Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance. I’ve been thinking about this for a long time and after talking to a friend recently I decided it may help if I explained how much this really affects the parent of a child with a Difficult Mind.

There is a constant grief involved when parenting a child with the Difficult Mind.

Before I go any further I want to say a few things very clearly. First, I only speak for myself, this is my experience. Second, having a child with a Difficult Mind is not the worst kind of grief but it is still grief all the same. Third, we have learned to live with this kind of grief and we still find there is much joy to experience.

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.”

Denial. When your child looks completely normal there’s a great sense of denial when it comes to their Difficult Mind. Maybe you’re just making it up in your head. Maybe your child is just having a bad day. Maybe it is the environment or school or living arrangement. To get past the denial stage there has to be a deep recognition of truth. Truth for me took the form of a written diagnosis after years of struggling. Instead of relief, it was that one small thing that carried me from denial into anger.

Anger. Anger tends to be a reaction to pain. Realizing that your child is going to struggle for the rest of their life is painful. It is not hard to be angry at the world when you realize every single day of your child’s life is going to be a struggle. But anger doesn’t move you forward, although it may motivate you to bargain.

Bargaining. This is where I ended up when I thought I could gain back some control. If we just do more therapy. If we just buy more tools. If we just adhere to a stricter schedule. This is also where reality begins to set in, no matter how much you do your child is still hurting.

Depression. Extreme sadness. Sadness that can’t be explained in words. For me this was the part that was both the hardest and the easiest. Once I reached here and could really pain and hurt for my son I was also able to begin to see things clearly so I could get to the next place, acceptance.

Acceptance. This is the stage I’m still working on. The place where I am able to say without shame or guilt or fear that my son has a neurological condition and needs help. This is the place where I say and understand that there is no cure for my sons struggle. This is where I say with conviction “My son is the way God made him to be and we will celebrate that every day.” In acceptance, there is hope.

In hope there is comfort. Comfort for my mothering soul. Comfort that eases the heart and makes the day-to-day struggles manageable. Comfort that helps us hope and see the joy.

There is one more thing about the cycle. It’s called the cycle for a reason, it happens over and over and over again.

Having a child with the Difficult Mind means that you experience the grief cycle pretty regularly. Every day you hope that you will take one small step toward whatever milestone you’re trying to reach. Those things that come easily to other children but are a struggle for our son is what usually ignites the grief cycle for me. Recently I have seen it creep in as we try and conquer things like potty training, simple self-care and minimizing violent outbursts and toddler like tantrums.

We will reach these goals. And we will celebrate. I will then realize that there are many, many more of these kinds of milestones ahead. When I focus on the difficulty of the simple things they can become overwhelming and grief sets in, again.

I stand here today believing in hope, fighting against the potential grief and choosing joy. Humans, regardless of their struggles and seasons are magnificent. I choose to celebrate my son’s magnificence.

Today, I believe in great miracles. I will celebrate the small victories with my son as if they were big ones. I will focus on today and not worry about tomorrow. For today is what I have and today is what my son has.

 

“Hope and sorrow in at all there’s rescue and there’s not.”

There’s rescue: In the past and probably in the future I have had the great support of family, friends and counselors. Grief is best fought when surrounded by hope, even if that hope is not my own.

There’s not: There are so many unknowns that there are many hard days. Days where I wonder if my son will ever have friends, ever fall in love or ever know the joy of having his own family. But these are only days ahead, none of them are today.

Today I cling to hope. By holding on to hope and declaring it loudly my child, my son, receives the gift of being dearly loved, even in the midst of grief.

 

Sharing stories of grace and linking up with Unforced Rhythms.

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