As the mother of a child with a disability I am pretty laid back compared to other special needs parents I have met. I try to be understanding when everyone in the checkout lines turn and stare at my family when we enter a store. The children who frequently stop dead in their tracks with gaping wide mouths are smiled at as I quickly navigate Sweet G around their curious eyes.
I try to tell myself that they look because they are curious and because we are such beautiful people that they can't help becoming mesmerized by our striking good looks. Well, I can't even convince myself of that one but the point is that I really do try to put myself in the position of the lookie-lou in question and move on with my life. There are times, however, when I have an experience that throws me off balance and leaves me searching for direction. Today was one of those days.
We decided to take in a family movie this afternoon. Sweet G asked to go see Cars 2 and since that is something he never asks for we wanted to take him for some special family time. We bought our tickets before entering the theater. Having arrived a few minutes before the movie was going to start we decided to get in line for some refreshments. As we stood there in line my husband says you may want to take G and go find us some seats. Initially I said, "Why, it doesn't look that crowded to me." J replied, "Well, it wouldn't hurt because all the handicapped section may get full." Not wanting to disagree, I turned and headed with Sweet G toward the theater.
As I rolled G into the theater and into the main aisle where the handicapped seating is located I couldn't believe my eyes. Every seat was taken by able bodied people. There wasn't one disabled person in sight. Oh, my blood started to boil. I just stood there with my mouth agape in disbelief. There was a woman around my age in the first set of seats with her young child. An older lady sat with a young girl in the second set of seats. The third set of seats held an elderly man with a small boy, and two wild unattended boys took up the last set of seats. I stood there for a good minute just looking at them all. Remember that I said earlier that we don't enter anywhere unnoticed. They all, with the exception of the two boys on the far end of the theater looked straight at me and Sweet G.
What do you think happened? Did the woman my age with a little boy close to G's age offer their seats? Maybe you think it was the older woman and her grand-daughter who surrendered their seats. Surely it must have been the elderly man who nobly sacrificed his seats for a child in a wheel chair. Maybe the young boys took notice and offered their seats. Who do you think did the right thing and moved out of the handicapped seating so a disabled child could sit in the seating reserved for individuals with special needs like him? If your answer was none of the above you are a winner! Not one person moved from their seat. I stood there amazed at the lack of concern those three adults showed by their complacency. They sat there looking at me and G until I turned and walked back out of the theater.
I returned to the theater with an usher who asked the first lady and her son if they minded moving. The woman very pleasantly said, "Oh, of course I don't." She quickly moved to another set of seats and I was able to set down and position Sweet G's chair beside me.
I could have asked someone as easily as the usher. I'm not sure why I didn't. The only reason I can think of is that I was so shocked by the lack of consideration those people displayed by their actions to first sit in a section intended for those with special needs, and secondly their choice to stare at us without offering to move.
As I talked to my husband tonight I described my desire to teach Sweet G to be kind and retain a Godly character yet be able to diplomatically stand up for himself. There are some things in life he will simply have to endure and the gawking eyes of strangers is one of them. I struggle with how to handle those situations. I have a hot Irish temper and once angered my tongue often speaks fire and death. I don't want to be a bad example to my Sweet G. He has a precious spirit that I don't want to corrupt but at the same time I don't want a lifetime of being treated rudely to cause him to become discouraged.
Life is a constant balancing act that leaves me struggling to decide the right things to do. I feel so unequipped to parent my sons, to be the wife my precious husband deserves, and to trust and forgive those who offend me. It isn't like I don't know what I need to do. I need to turn to my Lord and ask for guidance. Instead I wait until I have extinguished all my earthly ways of handling things and am at my breaking point. But you know what? That's okay. He understands, He knows me more intimately than I know myself and He loves me (adores me) in spite of all my imperfections. I just need to remember that sometimes blessings come as raindrops. It is then that I run to the shelter of my Saviors arms and there that I find answers and peace.
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Showing posts with label peace. Show all posts
Showing posts with label peace. Show all posts
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Curious Eyes and the Pain They Cause
As the mother of a child with a disability I am pretty laid back compared to other special needs parents I have met. I try to be understanding when everyone in the checkout lines turn and stare at my family when we enter a store. The children who frequently stop dead in their tracks with gaping wide mouths are smiled at as I quickly navigate Sweet G around their curious eyes.
I try to tell myself that they look because they are curious and because we are such beautiful people that they can't help becoming mesmerized by our striking good looks. Well, I can't even convince myself of that one but the point is that I really do try to put myself in the position of the lookie-lou in question and move on with my life. There are times, however, when I have an experience that throws me off balance and leaves me searching for direction. Today was one of those days.
We decided to take in a family movie this afternoon. Sweet G asked to go see Cars 2 and since that is something he never asks for we wanted to take him for some special family time. We bought our tickets before entering the theater. Having arrived a few minutes before the movie was going to start we decided to get in line for some refreshments. As we stood there in line my husband says you may want to take G and go find us some seats. Initially I said, "Why, it doesn't look that crowded to me." J replied, "Well, it wouldn't hurt because all the handicapped section may get full." Not wanting to disagree, I turned and headed with Sweet G toward the theater.
As I rolled G into the theater and into the main aisle where the handicapped seating is located I couldn't believe my eyes. Every seat was taken by able bodied people. There wasn't one disabled person in sight. Oh, my blood started to boil. I just stood there with my mouth agape in disbelief. There was a woman around my age in the first set of seats with her young child. An older lady sat with a young girl in the second set of seats. The third set of seats held an elderly man with a small boy, and two wild unattended boys took up the last set of seats. I stood there for a good minute just looking at them all. Remember that I said earlier that we don't enter anywhere unnoticed. They all, with the exception of the two boys on the far end of the theater looked straight at me and Sweet G.
What do you think happened? Did the woman my age with a little boy close to G's age offer their seats? Maybe you think it was the older woman and her grand-daughter who surrendered their seats. Surely it must have been the elderly man who nobly sacrificed his seats for a child in a wheel chair. Maybe the young boys took notice and offered their seats. Who do you think did the right thing and moved out of the handicapped seating so a disabled child could sit in the seating reserved for individuals with special needs like him? If your answer was none of the above you are a winner! Not one person moved from their seat. I stood there amazed at the lack of concern those three adults showed by their complacency. They sat there looking at me and G until I turned and walked back out of the theater.
I returned to the theater with an usher who asked the first lady and her son if they minded moving. The woman very pleasantly said, "Oh, of course I don't." She quickly moved to another set of seats and I was able to set down and position Sweet G's chair beside me.
I could have asked someone as easily as the usher. I'm not sure why I didn't. The only reason I can think of is that I was so shocked by the lack of consideration those people displayed by their actions to first sit in a section intended for those with special needs, and secondly their choice to stare at us without offering to move.
As I talked to my husband tonight I described my desire to teach Sweet G to be kind and retain a Godly character yet be able to diplomatically stand up for himself. There are some things in life he will simply have to endure and the gawking eyes of strangers is one of them. I struggle with how to handle those situations. I have a hot Irish temper and once angered my tongue often speaks fire and death. I don't want to be a bad example to my Sweet G. He has a precious spirit that I don't want to corrupt but at the same time I don't want a lifetime of being treated rudely to cause him to become discouraged.
Life is a constant balancing act that leaves me struggling to decide the right things to do. I feel so unequipped to parent my sons, to be the wife my precious husband deserves, and to trust and forgive those who offend me. It isn't like I don't know what I need to do. I need to turn to my Lord and ask for guidance. Instead I wait until I have extinguished all my earthly ways of handling things and am at my breaking point. But you know what? That's okay. He understands, He knows me more intimately than I know myself and He loves me (adores me) in spite of all my imperfections. I just need to remember that sometimes blessings come as raindrops. It is then that I run to the shelter of my Saviors arms and there that I find answers and peace.
[soundcloud url="http://api.soundcloud.com/tracks/14739095" params="show_comments=true&auto_play=true&color=59ff00" width="100%" height="81" ]
I try to tell myself that they look because they are curious and because we are such beautiful people that they can't help becoming mesmerized by our striking good looks. Well, I can't even convince myself of that one but the point is that I really do try to put myself in the position of the lookie-lou in question and move on with my life. There are times, however, when I have an experience that throws me off balance and leaves me searching for direction. Today was one of those days.
We decided to take in a family movie this afternoon. Sweet G asked to go see Cars 2 and since that is something he never asks for we wanted to take him for some special family time. We bought our tickets before entering the theater. Having arrived a few minutes before the movie was going to start we decided to get in line for some refreshments. As we stood there in line my husband says you may want to take G and go find us some seats. Initially I said, "Why, it doesn't look that crowded to me." J replied, "Well, it wouldn't hurt because all the handicapped section may get full." Not wanting to disagree, I turned and headed with Sweet G toward the theater.
As I rolled G into the theater and into the main aisle where the handicapped seating is located I couldn't believe my eyes. Every seat was taken by able bodied people. There wasn't one disabled person in sight. Oh, my blood started to boil. I just stood there with my mouth agape in disbelief. There was a woman around my age in the first set of seats with her young child. An older lady sat with a young girl in the second set of seats. The third set of seats held an elderly man with a small boy, and two wild unattended boys took up the last set of seats. I stood there for a good minute just looking at them all. Remember that I said earlier that we don't enter anywhere unnoticed. They all, with the exception of the two boys on the far end of the theater looked straight at me and Sweet G.
What do you think happened? Did the woman my age with a little boy close to G's age offer their seats? Maybe you think it was the older woman and her grand-daughter who surrendered their seats. Surely it must have been the elderly man who nobly sacrificed his seats for a child in a wheel chair. Maybe the young boys took notice and offered their seats. Who do you think did the right thing and moved out of the handicapped seating so a disabled child could sit in the seating reserved for individuals with special needs like him? If your answer was none of the above you are a winner! Not one person moved from their seat. I stood there amazed at the lack of concern those three adults showed by their complacency. They sat there looking at me and G until I turned and walked back out of the theater.
I returned to the theater with an usher who asked the first lady and her son if they minded moving. The woman very pleasantly said, "Oh, of course I don't." She quickly moved to another set of seats and I was able to set down and position Sweet G's chair beside me.
I could have asked someone as easily as the usher. I'm not sure why I didn't. The only reason I can think of is that I was so shocked by the lack of consideration those people displayed by their actions to first sit in a section intended for those with special needs, and secondly their choice to stare at us without offering to move.
As I talked to my husband tonight I described my desire to teach Sweet G to be kind and retain a Godly character yet be able to diplomatically stand up for himself. There are some things in life he will simply have to endure and the gawking eyes of strangers is one of them. I struggle with how to handle those situations. I have a hot Irish temper and once angered my tongue often speaks fire and death. I don't want to be a bad example to my Sweet G. He has a precious spirit that I don't want to corrupt but at the same time I don't want a lifetime of being treated rudely to cause him to become discouraged.
Life is a constant balancing act that leaves me struggling to decide the right things to do. I feel so unequipped to parent my sons, to be the wife my precious husband deserves, and to trust and forgive those who offend me. It isn't like I don't know what I need to do. I need to turn to my Lord and ask for guidance. Instead I wait until I have extinguished all my earthly ways of handling things and am at my breaking point. But you know what? That's okay. He understands, He knows me more intimately than I know myself and He loves me (adores me) in spite of all my imperfections. I just need to remember that sometimes blessings come as raindrops. It is then that I run to the shelter of my Saviors arms and there that I find answers and peace.
[soundcloud url="http://api.soundcloud.com/tracks/14739095" params="show_comments=true&auto_play=true&color=59ff00" width="100%" height="81" ]
Saturday, January 22, 2011
God's Gift of Peace
I wrote this post a few weeks ago except for the last few lines. I found it tonight as I was checking over my blog for unfinished posts and felt that it needed to be published. I hope it brings you enjoyment and a deeper understanding of parenting a special needs child.
This past week I faced a very difficult situation--my Sweet G had tendon lengthening surgery. I had peace through the entire experience. I can't explain it because I really don't understand it myself. I first began to experience this kind of peace on the day that I found out I was going to be G's mom. I remember vividly the moment it first happen. I was standing in the parking lot of a restaurant dressed as Scribbles the Clown. It was a cool evening in March. I stood talking to my husband J, our son T, and B the precious woman who picked us to be the family of our Sweet G.
G was born prematurely and B was filling us in on all that had happened since his birth. She told us that he had been born with cocaine in his blood. His birth mother had not received prenatal care and was unsure of exactly how far along in her pregnancy she had been. When she started to tell me about his story I knew that this baby would have problems although all the specialists said the chances were good that everything would be okay. I wasn't sure what issues the baby would face but I remember thinking, " I don't know if this is something I can do." Almost immediately I was reminded that this child was a miracle that we had spent years praying for. I also knew without a doubt that his birth was orchestrated by God, down to the last detail. Standing there in that parking lot God said, "This is the gift you have prayed for. I am offering him to you. The question is will you trust me and accept my gift?"
"Who am I to question the gift God is offering me? How do I say that isn't the gift I want and that It isn't good enough?" These thoughts hit me like a ton of bricks and I felt ashamed that I would consider throwing God's gift back in His face. I told myself that all God's gifts are good and that if this is the gift He offered then I would trust him. I didn't share any of these things with anyone else. I just talked to God and pondered them in my heart, kind of like I imagine Mary the mother of Jesus did when she thought of his future.
I was immediately filled with peace that comes only from God. That peace has stayed with me as we faced acid reflux testing, eye surgeries, developmental delays, the diagnosis of cerebral palsy, the two years we waited for G to take steps with the assistance of a walker, almost 8 years of specialists (too many to remember at times), 7 years of therapy, and years of daily stretching. Through all of it there was always the unknown looming before us. Will he ever walk unassisted or at all for that matter? Will today be the day he starts to have seizures? What does the future hold for this precious child God entrusted us to raise? Through it all there has been peace.
Do I get discouraged, tired, and frustrated--of course I do. I don't, however, lay awake at night worrying about whether G will be independent. God is constantly reminding me that He has this under control. All he wants me to do is stand right where He put me trusting Him to give me strength to withstand whatever He chooses for G. That is all he wants from any of His children--trust and obedience. So if you ever wondered how a parent of a special needs child manages life I can tell you that we do it like everyone else-one day at a time. Disability is a scary, terrible thing to most people looking in but the view from where I stand is amazingly beautiful, magical, and rewarding unlike anything you can imagine.
This past week I faced a very difficult situation--my Sweet G had tendon lengthening surgery. I had peace through the entire experience. I can't explain it because I really don't understand it myself. I first began to experience this kind of peace on the day that I found out I was going to be G's mom. I remember vividly the moment it first happen. I was standing in the parking lot of a restaurant dressed as Scribbles the Clown. It was a cool evening in March. I stood talking to my husband J, our son T, and B the precious woman who picked us to be the family of our Sweet G.
G was born prematurely and B was filling us in on all that had happened since his birth. She told us that he had been born with cocaine in his blood. His birth mother had not received prenatal care and was unsure of exactly how far along in her pregnancy she had been. When she started to tell me about his story I knew that this baby would have problems although all the specialists said the chances were good that everything would be okay. I wasn't sure what issues the baby would face but I remember thinking, " I don't know if this is something I can do." Almost immediately I was reminded that this child was a miracle that we had spent years praying for. I also knew without a doubt that his birth was orchestrated by God, down to the last detail. Standing there in that parking lot God said, "This is the gift you have prayed for. I am offering him to you. The question is will you trust me and accept my gift?"
"Who am I to question the gift God is offering me? How do I say that isn't the gift I want and that It isn't good enough?" These thoughts hit me like a ton of bricks and I felt ashamed that I would consider throwing God's gift back in His face. I told myself that all God's gifts are good and that if this is the gift He offered then I would trust him. I didn't share any of these things with anyone else. I just talked to God and pondered them in my heart, kind of like I imagine Mary the mother of Jesus did when she thought of his future.
I was immediately filled with peace that comes only from God. That peace has stayed with me as we faced acid reflux testing, eye surgeries, developmental delays, the diagnosis of cerebral palsy, the two years we waited for G to take steps with the assistance of a walker, almost 8 years of specialists (too many to remember at times), 7 years of therapy, and years of daily stretching. Through all of it there was always the unknown looming before us. Will he ever walk unassisted or at all for that matter? Will today be the day he starts to have seizures? What does the future hold for this precious child God entrusted us to raise? Through it all there has been peace.
Do I get discouraged, tired, and frustrated--of course I do. I don't, however, lay awake at night worrying about whether G will be independent. God is constantly reminding me that He has this under control. All he wants me to do is stand right where He put me trusting Him to give me strength to withstand whatever He chooses for G. That is all he wants from any of His children--trust and obedience. So if you ever wondered how a parent of a special needs child manages life I can tell you that we do it like everyone else-one day at a time. Disability is a scary, terrible thing to most people looking in but the view from where I stand is amazingly beautiful, magical, and rewarding unlike anything you can imagine.
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