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A Perfect World for Special Needs Moms

In a perfect world

*People wouldn't lean over my shoulder to peer into my child's face and walk away.

*I wouldn't hear that small, sharp intake of breath as the truth dawns upon them.

*I wouldn't have to be afraid of other people's thoughts and comments if my daughter growls in a restaurant.

*Churches without special needs programs would not exist

Suffer the little children to come unto me?
Which children?
The ones with good families, the ones who can control their impulses?
What about the children who are harder to reach?
What about the children who blurt out things in the middle of quiet prayers?
The middle schooler who cannot sit still?
The teenager with too many piercings?
The child who stims and hums and hits the wall?
Suffer the little children, Church.



*People would understand when it takes months, perhaps longer to figure out how to make church work after adoptions.

*Six kids would seem like a blessing to everyone.

*My daughter would just give up and sign more instead of screaming in my face.

*Food wouldn't lead to utter meltdowns.

*I wouldn't find hidden food in beds.

*I would have two dishwashers.

*School systems would actually do their jobs.

*Teachers would see the potential and not the checklist.

They are beautiful, untapped creations beyond our imaginations.
They are the very image of our God.



*People would offer words of encouragement to tired moms.

*My daughter would speak.

*I wouldn't clean up drool. Ever.Again.

*My heart would move on from the girl in my dreams. The ache would cease to exist.

*Children would never starve.

*Babies would not learn to not cry.

*Little girls would not pull out their own hair or hit their heads harshly.

*Patience wouldn't be so hard to attain.

*I would never lose my temper.

*I would be fine volunteering for one more activity.

But it's not a perfect world, is it? Every single one of us wakes up every day and faces our own battle. There is no small battle or insignificant battle. Every battle requires more of us then we think we can give.

And I am plumb tired out most days. This is tough and requires me to not.ever.break.down. Keep going, keep running, stay stronger then the strongest stubborn streak, demand independence at the very cost of my own sanity.

So I do what I know how. I acknowledge Him in this tired, worn out heart. He is seeing what I cannot and He calls it beautiful. He is making what seems to me like this twisting, winding road with no end, a straight path. He is saying, "Walk, walk, walk straight ahead. One foot in front of the other. Walk."

Jesus, I acknowledge you.
Here, now, I acknowledge that you
know better than I.
You are my King.
You are God.
And I will keep walking in Your Paths.






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