The thing about faith is that…it’s not transient. You either have it or you don’t. You don’t have to believe in the God I believe in to have faith either. You can have faith in lots of things–doctors, teachers, friends.
To have faith, you have to trust. A lot. Believe. A lot.
So where does that leave us, as special needs parents? We deal with so many things on a daily basis. We put our faith in things we can’t see–the future, IEP goals, health care reform (heh).
There’s no magical devotion or book or lesson that speaks to my situation.
No one can tell me to relax and have faith…because, you know what? I do have faith. I probably have more faith than a lot of people.
I believe with all my heart that when I take Jack to the doctor, I’m going to hear good news.
Does that happen? Usually not. OK, for real, it’s never happened.
But I believe. And I hope.
(And then I get sad. But, in the morning, I get up and hope and believe all over again)
I sobbed my way through Easter services at our church because the minister did a sermon on how when we get to heaven, our bodies will be whole and how kids with disabilities will be free from pain and sickness and all that… I did the ugly cry. Right there in my seat. THE ugly cry.
The thing is, I don’t really want to wait until my son dies to see him happy and whole.
I’d give my own life to see him that way now.
I understand that isn’t possible, but I’m trying to be transparent.
I don’t want to be patronized or told what a great mom I am.
I hate being a special needs parent. Would I choose this for my child…the child that I prayed for? Hell no. But, it’s what I was given, and I may never know the reason behind it.
I don’t know that I’d be OK with that reason, truth be told.
The fact remains that I have faith. I believe with all my heart that I am who Jack need and that he has made my family stronger because he’s here. I believe that my son has changed many hearts. I believe that there are blessings for all of us if we look for them.
And I hope…Oh do I hope…
But mostly, I just love. I wake up to give kisses. I love through the aggression. I love through the pain of diagnoses. I love through the fear of the unknown future.
In the end, that’s what we’re all left with…faith and hope and love.