Like a Sore Thumb

It’s sports season again in our household – and you know what that means. Me and thousands of my closest friends will come out in droves to frequent the local public school gyms to watch our kids show of their skills they have honed in the hourly practice of the week. Honestly, it’s adorable to see little kids in matching uniforms trying their hardest to make a slam dunk – or just make a basket into the right team’s hoop.

Even though he hates it, we make Hayden come with us to at least a few sporting events per season to show support for his brothers. Heaven knows I have spent many years dragging his brothers to appointments they did not want to go to, so Hayden can do his brothers a solid and attend an event or two and show support. We are a family. That is what families do – they go to events they don’t care about and put on a smile and suck it up and deal… then their therapist thanks me later for the unending material. 😉

The part I hate the most, though, actually takes place well before I enter the building. It’s the PARKING LOT nightmare! Recently, there was a tournament going on for both of our younger boys and we had to split up the parenting duties. My husband had our two boys with him and I had Hayden with me. I had stayed back home to complete Hayden’s morning treatments and bowel management routine, missed the first games and then Hayden and I were planning to meet up with the rest of our family at the gym.

The two of us pulled into the parking lot in our handicap plated, beaten up, wheel chair deploying van looking for that “golden ticket” of a handicap spot with the lines painted on the right hand side of the parking spot for our ramp to deploy. I call this spot the “golden ticket” because without those lines in the correct spot, Momma has to back “the beast” in to a non-ideal spot to get the ramp to deploy with enough space, and no one wants to endure that fiasco of backing into a parking spot, let’s just all be honest.

This particular [insanely windy] day, there were NO handicap spots available at all! No “golden tickets,” no spots near the end of a row I could make do with, nothing, nada, zilch! So I had to park wayyyyyy back in the lot and deploy the ramp there and then push Hayden from back there. Obviously, the basketball game was over when we made it to the front door of the school. (Did you really expect this story to go any other way?? ha!)

But that experience got me thinking – wouldn’t it have been so much easier if the parking spot I needed was just like what everyone else was using? Just a plain Jane, run of the mill parking spot. No particulars necessary. No need to stand out like a sore thumb and have only a specific handful of spots that would work? But that’s not our lot… Hayden and I, we were destined to drive around and forced to be picky about where we landed. We have to have special license plates, even, granting us permission to park in the “special areas.” And I’ll tell you, for an introvert trying to fly [quietly] under the radar, parking lots just make me sweat. Profusely. (And I’ll save my anger issues for those citizens who take advantage of handicap parking spots for another post or, perhaps, for my tell all book….)

Here’s the deal, though. I was called to stand out. I was called to NOT match all the other cars in the parking lot. To not blend in so nicely. The parking lot was full of people just blending in and not sticking out. All the cars look the same, park the same, and fit between two beautiful and straight white lines. But not my car. You can spot my car from afar. Special license plates in a special area of every parking lot with crazy diagonal lines all over the place and signs posted that essentially read, “Look out world! Something different is headed your way!”

But you know what? If you’re following Jesus, He told you to stand out too. Me and you. We have got to be the salt and the light of this world. We cannot go through life just blending in with everyone else, flying under the radar. He did not call us to that. He did not tell us to do our best to blend in and find a place in this world that’s just perfectly easy and laid out, and then land there and never look back. What in our daily lives is making us look contrary from the entire world? Something about us needs to be screaming, “Look out world! Something different is headed your way!”

I am so thankful to be in a life and in a set of circumstances that FORCE me to stand out because it makes it so much easier. It almost feels like I was gifted the easier version of “Salt and Light 101.” If these difficult circumstances that I wake up to everyday make it easier for me to stand out in the world and to point others to Christ, then I welcome this scenario. And once I am out of my comfort zone, it is so much easier to look around and find even more ways to keep standing out in this world. I do not want to conform to the world. I want to look like the opposite of the world so that others might see me, struggling in the wind to unbuckle my son’s wheel chair from the van floor and rush into a basketball gym only to miss a game, and go, “What is the deal with this girl? Something is different here – Who is giving her this joy and resilience that not even a rough Saturday morning in the suburbs has the ability to dim her light?”

And I want that for you, friend. Because the joy isn’t in the perfect circumstances; the joy is in Jesus.

“You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden.  Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. 1In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.” – Matthew 5:14-16

The Old Ball and Chain…

At weddings. At restaurants. At church. At family reunions. At birthday parties. Name an event. Name a place. It’s there. The ball and chain is there. It never stops and it never goes away. When you just fell asleep. When you just sat down to a hot meal. When you just got into a good conversation with a friend. When your kid wants to cuddle with you. The ball and chain wins every.single.time. It owns you. You do what it says and you do it quickly. 

Pulse oximeter: a medical device that indirectly monitors the oxygen saturation of a patient’s blood and changes in blood volume in the skin

Translation: ball and chain

My son has been on constant pulse ox monitoring for 11 years, three months, and 17 days. 96, 832 hours the pulse ox has been monitoring him. (Give or take a shower or two.) That’s 96,832 hours my ears have been listening to see if my son needs me. I’ve been on call for some 96,000 hours. For all of this time, Hayden has had a pulse ox on his toe revealing to us what he needs. If he sats too low, he needs more oxygen. If he sats too high, he needs less oxygen. If his heart rate is too high, he may have fever or have distress somewhere in his body. If his heart rate is too low, he may be sleeping too hard and needs to be stimulated. There has been an occasion or two where the pulse ox saturation number read as a dotted line during emergency events while I was actively bagging him, breathing for him to try to keep him alive until the ambulance arrived. But more often, the pulse ox is just there as an appendage reminding us that Hayden is still alive, still breathing, heart still beating. 

The pulse ox and I have a love/hate relationship. Essentially, it loves to do its job and do it well; I hate it and cannot stand the sound of it beeping. Yet every time, I get up. I go to it when it calls me. It beckons, and I come running. It is a necessary evil. Its annoying beeps remind me that my son is alive and breathing and that his heart is beating, which is a blessing. I know many, many mommas who would give anything to hear their child’s pulse ox alarming just one more time. And so, I will adjust my posture from one of annoyance, to that of gratefulness that my son and all of his equipment is still here with me, for today. To those mommas out there who no longer have your child’s equipment beckoning you, I honor you. I see you. I respect you. I love you. You and your child are teaching me. 

Is there something in your own life that you need to change your posture about? What is it that needs a perspective shift? You can choose that change. Right now, this minute. You get to decide your mindset about it. Is there something in your life that is a constant irritant, but if you could just take a step back you could label it as a blessing rather than a hindrance? Do it. Embrace it now. Don’t let another day pass before you learn to relish the ball and chain. 

That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”

2 Corinthians 12:10

‘Tis the Season

It May. Mayhem, if you ask me. So many school events, class parties, teacher appreciation events, baseball games, graduations. You name it; it’s happening. And all within a five day span it feels like. Next week, my youngest son graduates from Pre-K. Tonight, my middle son completed his second year of Royal Ambassadors (a Wednesday night missions program at our church). In a couple of weeks, Hayden’s former 5th grade public school classmates will be celebrating their final walk through their elementary school halls. Obviously, as a homeschooler now, Hayden won’t be participating in those activities with his 5th grade class. He didn’t participate tonight in the RA banquet at church. He doesn’t fit any certain mold. When Hayden entered the world, in fact, the mold was crushed and obliterated. He is his own person. And we are grateful. But also, we are sad.

It’s hard to sit and watch Hayden’s peers move on in life. We always knew, theoretically, that this would become our reality. And ever so slowly, it has unfolded. This season of the year is just a time when it is on the forefront, rapidly playing out before us. Even if Hayden had remained in public school, he would not find joy in the celebration taking place for his peers. If Hayden had continued in RAs at church this year, he couldn’t have endured the banquet and all of the clapping – in fact, he stayed in the lobby with his attendant and cried because he could hear the applause through the wall and it was upsetting to him.

Oftentimes, I feel like I’m a mom with two families. I have a family of a husband and two healthy [albeit, wild] boys. We go to baseball games and cheer on our boys, we drop off our boys to their Sunday school class and leave them, free as a bird, we even sometimes go on vacations just the four of us and have a carefree, restful time. I also have a family of a husband and a special needs son. We go to doctor appointments and Operating Rooms and we cheer on our boy, we drop our boy off to his attendant at Sunday school and then keep our phones close by just in case the oxygen tank needs to be exchanged or his trach comes out, we sometimes go on trips to hotels with our boy so that he can work behind the front desk and make hotel key cards to add to his obsessive collection. Yet everyday, simultaneously, I am both moms.

The sting of watching my life as a mom not look the way I had always pictured it, doesn’t ever go away. Some days are easier than others and the grief is so faint and so small in my heart that I nearly forget it’s there. And other days, it’s so big and painful I’m not sure how I will get through it. And that is ok. Grief is a part of this journey. I’m in good company with my grief. In fact, Jesus Himself was a “man of sorrows and acquainted with grief.”  (Isaiah 53:3)

I’ve been working with my counselor over the last couple of years and I know myself better, I know how to handle stress and grief better. But mostly, I know my God better. This past decade of living life as “Hayden’s mom” has opened my eyes to so many incredible, priceless lessons. I’ve seen God’s hand work in unbelievable ways. I’ve been gifted this opportunity to walk alongside and just watch His amazing plan play out. However, most recently, over the last two years, my heart has been attuned to not just God’s plans, but God Himself. To really understand the love He has for me, to believe just how loved I am, and to accept how He sees me has been the highlight of my life’s journey. I heard a quote from Bob Goff once that said, “Jesus is nuts about you! Your picture is in His wallet.” What a great illustration! The creator of the entire universe is really, really crazy about you.

See, when Jesus came to this earth to walk as a man, He experienced the same things we do. Grief, betrayal, sadness, exhaustion, hunger, thirst. And He overcame it all through His death and resurrection. And now, I have complete hope in Jesus. I know exactly what my future will look like. I know what restoration will come. And I know what true love feels like. And when you’re loved like crazy by your Creator, you are free indeed; free from the bondage of grief.

“So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed.” John 8:36

Would You Like the Leather Package?

When buying a brand new car, you are offered so many customized choices and selections. Leather package, sun roof package, navigation package. You name it, you can have it. Just how you would like it to be. It’s the [first] world we live in now. You want something, just order it up.

Four months in to my son’s seven month NICU stay, we had been living at the Ronald McDonald House in Houston, Texas and had decided it was time to relocate, officially, to Houston to be near the top notch Texas Children’s Hospital. We listed for sale our home in College Station, with a beautiful and perfectly prepared nursery, mind you, and rented a one bedroom apartment in Houston, of which we used ice chests for a table, lawn chairs for seating, and a lovely air mattress to complete our master suite. At night, we would fall asleep to the hum of a deep freezer in our bedroom that was full to the brim with breast milk, or “liquid gold” that was being stored for Hayden. During Hayden’s seven months in NICU, we had spent four months in Ronald McDonald House and three months in the apartment; a total of seven months of life in disarray. We soon came to realize, when life throws you curve balls, you begin to reevaluate your priorities. The make shift arrangements in our apartment were a welcomed change from the community living set up we had experienced for so many months at Ronald McDonald House. Because of our circumstances, we were able to appreciate all the more, our own space and our own air mattress and our own kitchen “ice chest table.” Our priorities had shifted. The experience of Hayden’s birth and subsequent NICU stay was the beginning of our refinement as a couple, as a family, and followers of Jesus. We were in a position to really allow our hearts to be molded to what Christ has called us to. To leave everything behind and to seek after Him. “When Jesus heard that, he said, ‘Then there’s only one thing left to do: Sell everything you own and give it away to the poor. You will have riches in heaven. Then come, follow me.’” Luke 18:22

In early 2008, just a few weeks before Hayden’s long awaited discharge from his lengthy NICU stay, we realized we would need to get a larger vehicle able to accommodate Hayden’s custom specialty stroller, oxygen tanks, ventilator, feeding pump, pulse ox monitor and other life sustaining equipment. We had just sold our home in College Station and we took the money we had made on it and gave it to a friend to take the money to a car auction. We gave a couple of recommendations on the space we needed and what our preference would be for a make and model of vehicle, but ultimately we said we would just take what we could get with the cash we had and be happy. And so, that is how we obtained our SUV that became our main vehicle to drive Hayden and his equipment to and from doctor visits. I remember the day we were sitting in our apartment and the car arrived. My father in law had flown to Austin to pick up the car from the gentleman who had purchased it on our behalf at the auction and drive it back to Houston. We walked out to the parking lot to see what we had just purchased. What kind of people just buy a car and don’t even care what it looks like? That would be us. I didn’t pick the package that I wanted. I didn’t pick the color I wanted. I didn’t pick the fanciest upgrades. Heck, I didn’t even see it until it was already ours. And you know what – it didn’t matter. It was just a car. It was a tool. It served a purpose; but it did not define me. If our identity is in Christ, the things we own, the clothes we wear, the jobs we have, the vacations we take – none of this defines us.

I’ve come to realize you have to be so deeply in love with Jesus that if all of these things in your life disappear and if all the people in your life fall away, that He will be your rock and your steady fortress. Like the old hymn says, “Though none go with me, I still will follow.” This life is not solely about your pleasure. In fact, it’s the opposite. If you’re following after Jesus, then HE will be your joy. But.you.will.have.troubles! “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” John 16:33 It is not a surprise. It’s not a trick move. Jesus is very upfront about it. But oh my gosh, people, He is so worth the “hassle.” *sarcasm added* I promise you!! The Bible never once says “follow your heart.” Nothing about a Christian life is about your ultimate happiness and just doing what feels good and pursuing your own selfish desires. The Bible is about following Jesus and doing His will, no matter the circumstances.

As I write this, my son is 20 days post op from a major surgery and has currently been readmitted to the PICU due to complications. He went through an eight hour surgery only 20 days ago. After his initial discharge from the hospital, when all the noise stopped, the visitors slowed down and I found myself living in another Ronald McDonald House, this time in Ohio, taking care of Hayden on my own, I began to feel isolated. It was easy to lose sight of where my foundation was. Those first few days after discharge when life was crazy busy doing my nursing duties for Hayden and being so focused on flushing his tubes, giving his feeds, doing his treatments, and everything else on the list 24/7, I was leaving a door wide open for the enemy to mess with me. To draw my focus to my circumstances, my temporary situation rather than my eyes staying fixed on God and finding my rest in Jesus. It is a constant, day to day journey to be on with the Lord. It’s not a “say a prayer, obtain salvation and then do what you want.” Salvation isn’t a safety net. It’s an action – to WALK with the Lord.

Are you walking with Him? Do you hear the Spirit inside you guiding you and directing you? Are you seeking Him? Or are you distracted? Do you think your happiness is all that matters? There’s a quote I heard once about marriage, but I think could apply to most areas of life. “Marriage isn’t about making you happy, it’s about making you holy.” I completely agree with that statement from a marital standpoint, but also feel we could apply it to so many areas. For example in my own life, “Parenthood isn’t about making you happy, it’s about making you holy.” As cute and adorable as Hayden is, our situation is hard and I’m not always happy about all the intense work I have to do. But if I change my perspective and consider that my circumstance is one that is making me holy, then I welcome it. Even though it is hard. Would you trust Him enough to know that He loves you and He wants to make you HOLY and more like Him. He loves you so much. God created you, and then He sent His own son to rectify our faults so that through Him we could be reconciled, and then He even gave us the Holy Spirit to literally exist inside of us and be our own personal counselor. If you know Him, draw closer to Him every moment of every day. If you don’t know Him, please come to trust Him. I promise you, He is worth it.

No Refunds or Exchanges

You know how some stores have strict and sometimes even nonexistent refund policies? “All Sales Final” posted in the window means, if you plan to shop, you better love what you get and be prepared to stick with it, because there are no take backs.

That’s parenthood, isn’t it? You have a kid and all of a sudden you’re in a situation where, “You get what you get, and you don’t throw a fit.” My special needs son is now ten. And he is my first born. So up until Hayden entered my life a decade ago, I didn’t know anything about even being a parent, let alone a parent to a special needs child.

Now this post isn’t a pity party. (I do have pity parties on rare occasions and the guest list is quite small, reserved seating only for those closest to the madness. In fact, my first pity party was held in the Postpartum unit at St. Luke’s Hospital in Houston in 2007. My mother in law and I were the only attendees and we held the pity party in the hallway while walking the unit, post surgery, trying to prevent blood clots and building up my strength. We took a moment right near the “healthy babies” in the nursery window to bawl our eyes out, right along with the babies, as we thought of how much we wished Hayden was with us instead of in an ICU in the hospital next door.)

I write a lot about how I had no comparison to what “normal” should be when Hayden was born. I count that a blessing. I didn’t know any differently and I just did what needed to be done. However, due to my own blissful ignorance, I have had moments of enlightenment mixed with grief. I remember back when Hayden was about two and half or three, I was by myself visiting a friend who had a child just a few months older than Hayden. This friend and I were seated on her couch and she asked her three year old, “Bring Mommy the phone.” And he did it. Like, he heard her. He processed the request. He used his legs and went over and retrieved the item she needed. And he brought it to her. Just like that! In that moment, I just froze and stared in amazed bewilderment. Is this what kids can do?? Is this what Hayden would do if he could? She didn’t even have to lay out the steps one by one. She didn’t have to give him two choices of which item she needed. She didn’t have to put him on a scooter board, prone, and make sure he was secured so he could pull himself to the item. This was the most amazing thing I had ever seen a kid do!

There was another time, I was out of town for a conference and I stayed the night with some friends of ours who had two kids, probably around the ages of 5 and 1. They had cooked a lovely dinner and the five of us sat down to eat. We each sat in our spot, the kids fed themselves and no one’s oxygen monitor indicated a desaturation, no one needed suctioning; we just sat there and ate. And afterward the kids took a bath and went to sleep. Then there was free time. I do not exaggerate when I say I literally, felt like I was in a resort. No one needed an hour’s worth of treatments before bed, no one needed to have their meds drawn up, there was no troubleshooting of ventilators and concentrators, and after the kids were asleep no one had to prepare tomorrow’s blenderized foods and draw up food bags. It was incredible. And I do not say that to discount parenting typical children who are 5 and 1! That is hard work, too! I have other kids who are typical and I know there are challenges with every child. It’s just that my observations of this family revealed what “normal” would look like.

Even now, as my son is ten and his peers are staying home alone for small amounts of time, my mind is just BLOWN. How is this happening?! Every day that passes, more shots of grief strike at random times when I least expect them. A scroll through my Facebook feed recently revealed nearly the whole 5th grade class went to a sleep away camp together for three days. As all the proud mommas posted pictures of their child’s send off to camp, inside I ached as a knife twisted my heart. I know my son won’t be able to do everything like everyone else his age. (Heck, at this point he homeschools anyway so this particular trip wasn’t even an option for him as he’s not enrolled in that school anymore – but it’s just the principle of the whole matter.) And then my inner voice starts to get frustrated that other moms get to post their pictures while I sit and ponder, “Do they even know how I feel? How hard this is for me? How lucky they are?” It’s like this selfish indignation that occasionally rears its ugly head.

You know, as many “cons” that I could list and dwell on, if I allowed myself to do so, there are more “pros” than I could probably ever count. Yes, I have had to deal with changing diapers and cleaning up poop for a solid decade and counting. I’ve watched my son miss out on events and experiences. I’ve had to neglect my other two typical sons and watch them struggle as they yearn for my attention. I mourn often of what our “normal” family would have looked like and how different things would have been. However, the people we have met on this journey – other special needs moms, Special Ed teachers, precious doctors and nurses, celebrities like Pat Sajak and Vanna White and John Cena, – the experiences we have had as a family like participating in a Make a Wish trip, watching Hayden develop and grow in his own skin and becoming a self proclaimed “VIP”, and developing friendships with people we never would have met like Aaron Watson, Cal Johnson, Kathleen Barkley, our town’s mayor and so many more, are all things I would never want to have missed out on. Mostly, the biggest “pro” to top the list is that we have a true perspective of LIFE. We have a fresh opportunity every single day to live out sacrificial love. I will never look at situations, circumstances, or “stuff” the same way. And that is because I was given Hayden, to be mine.

There’s a Southern Gospel song that I absolutely love whose lyrics speak truth to me. “I Wouldn’t Take Nothin’ for My Journey Now” says,

“I’ve had a lot of heartache and I met a lot of grief and woe
But when I would stumble then I would humble down
And there I’d say, I wouldn’t take nothin’ for my journey now”

This journey isn’t something I would have picked for myself, but it is undoubtedly one I would never trade. The lessons and experiences from this life are priceless, but ultimately, the reason I would never trade it, is because I have grown closer to Jesus BECAUSE of my circumstances. And for that I am so, so grateful to be in this place that is difficult, exhausting, and unfair. It’s in this place that I am humbled to look UP to Him and praise His name for His sovereign plan and for the gift of salvation that He offers to us all. Because of what He has done for us, by dying on the cross, we can all have hope of eternity with Him.

“That is why we never give up. Though our bodies are dying, our spirits are being renewed every day. For our present troubles are quite small and won’t last very long. Yet they produce for us an immeasurably great glory that will last FOREVER! So we don’t look at the troubles we can see right now; rather, we look forward to what we have not yet seen. For the troubles we see will soon be over, but the joys to come will last forever.” 2 Corinthians 4:16-18

It’s impossible for me to read those words and not tear up. God is so gracious to have given us Jesus to make a way for us to have hope. And so during my circumstances, that I wasn’t wise enough to even know I needed, I look to Him and am eager for an eternity with Him. I trust Him completely and I know that none of this world is about me – it is about HIM and spreading God’s glory throughout all of the world. I am incredibly honored and blessed that we get to do just that in the even tiniest way, by using our situation to continue to give glory to God.

If you don’t have that relationship with Jesus, or if you have questions about how to develop such a relationship and feel secure in your eternity, as always, please reach out to me or a local church. My contact information can be found under the “About” tab on this blog.

I’ll sum up with this line from a friend of Hayden’s, Aaron Watson. “No it won’t all go the way that it should, but I know the heart of life is good.”

This _____________ Life

I find a little bit of solace in the fact that the life I lead, as hard as it is, is the only life I know. I will never know what it is like to have all healthy children. I will never know what it’s like to bring home your first born, two day old baby and marvel at becoming a family of three. I will never know what it is like to go to sleep at night and not keep one ear open listening for the pulse oximeter or ventilator alerting of a problem with my child. Yet, in a way I wonder, is it better like this? That this is the only way I will remember parenthood. It’s the only way I know.

It’s not an easy road. And it doesn’t mean that it’s not isolating, exhausting and draining. Sometimes I find myself in low valleys where it would be easy to wallow in my suffering, my loss. The loss of having only healthy children. The loss of bringing home a newborn baby rather than a seven month old from a NICU. The loss of going to sleep peacefully each night and being able to rest carefree all night. Those are all very real losses.

If you’ve read my posts before, you know I relate often to music. There is a Texas Country artist, Cody Johnson, who recently released a song called, “The Only One I Know (Cowboy Life).” The song portrays the difficulty a cowboy, working the rodeo circuit, feels as he is alone out on the road, ridden with failure and injury from working the rodeo. I can relate to this song. Not as a rodeo contestant, obviously, but as the mother of a special needs child, living this type of life that is uniquely isolating. In the chorus, Cody shares,

“Just some broken hearts and broken bones, and a hell of a whole lot of bein’ alone…… this cowboy life might kill me, but it’s the only one I know.”

That’s a completely accurate description to this life I lead. I’ve had plenty of broken hearts and my fair share of being alone. In the bridge of the song,

“Yeah it’ll kill me, before it ever lets me go.

It’ll kill me, but it’s the only life I know.

And I’d rather die than be caught crying, so I’m just smiling, wear my hat down low…”

For me, that is relatable. This life may kill me yet, but I don’t know any other life, or any other way. And my pride wants me to grin and bear it, hide the tears and wear my hat down low so no one knows the struggle.

But it turns out, though my heart may break at times, and though I may feel alone, I am not alone. And even when my pride wants me to hide my tears and my sorrow, my Father keeps track of them all and He is with me. “You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book.” Psalms 56:8

I recently realized why it is He’s recording my hurts in a book. It’s because eventually, when all is said and done and I see Him in Glory, on that day, all will be restored. He is keeping the record so He can set it right. I trust in that and I accept that whatever it is that we endure on this earth is for a greater purpose that we cannot fathom this side of heaven. No matter how miserable the sufferings are, there’s a greater good.

So I ask you, what would your song be? “The Only One I know – Single Mom Life”?, “Special Needs Life”?, “Dead End Job Life”? Whatever you are going through and whatever you are enduring that feels like it is just the only way you know, God wants to set it right for those who trust in Him. “He will remove all of their sorrows, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. For the old world and its evils are gone forever.” Revelation 21: 4

 

Remarkably Loved

I have a name that is hard to pronounce. And hard to spell. For the majority of my life, I have answered to anything: “Johanna”, “Jonah”, “Joanna”. I have been the person who most people forget, yet, ironically, I remember most people. Quietly, contemplatively, I am always people watching and remembering idle tidbits of information about someone. I am an introvert whose thoughts in my head exhaust me and I rarely share a mild portion of them in conversation with others around me.

In 2007, something changed. I became a mom. Of a special needs son. I was taught by medical staff how to be empowered. How to stand up for my child and be his voice. How to advocate for him and follow my gut instinct. All of a which I eagerly embraced. When it comes to my children, I know what my job is and I know have a valuable voice.

As a parent of a special needs child, though, I spend so much time and energy fighting for my son, that it is very easy to lose my own personal identity. I have to remind myself that I am more than just “Hayden’s Mom.” I am more than a walking computer data base of lab values, vent setting and med checklists. But then, who am I without this identity of being my son’s “Case Manager”?

Last week, I took my three boys on a walk around our neighborhood with the help of Hayden’s nurse. Hayden and his nurse were a few yards behind myself and the two younger boys. As I walked past a neighbor out in their front yard, he and I did the casual neighbor-wave-exchange move and I continued walking on. A few moments behind me, Hayden and his nurse walked by the same neighbor. Only this time, Hayden received the royal treatment, which is a wonderful thing. “How are you Hayden?! Good to see you! You’re looking great!” Then, as an afterthought, my neighbor gave a glance ahead of Hayden to where “Hayden’s Mom” was standing and then the light bulb clicked. My identifying mark is Hayden’s presence beside me. The neighbor and I then exchanged pleasantries and we all went on with our day. This scenario I described, happened twice during this one outing. It has happened countless times in numerous settings. It is a humbling experience. To know that your impression left on someone was not always strong enough to leave a mark. That you are the Robin to someone else who is Batman.

The enemy knows how to mess with me. He knows how to mess with you. You might not believe that, but it is true. The Bible tells us, “For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the powers, against the world forces of this darkness, against the spiritual forces of wickedness in the heavenly places.” – Ephesians 6:12. It is spiritual warfare. I began to allow the enemy to convince me that without Hayden I was completely unremarkable. I almost believed I had no value without this person that I invest my heart and soul into. Countless voices in my head telling me – “No one even knows how to say your name, let alone spell it.” “Your neighbors don’t even remember who you are unless Hayden is with you.” “There’s nothing you’re great at on your own. It’s only because of Hayden that you’re worth anything.”

Feeling worthy of love and yearning to be empty of shame has been a life long struggle of mine for a variety of a reasons. Because of this natural bend toward not feeling worthy of receiving love, it has always been hard for me to process the following information:

There is a Person who is straight up, head over heels in love with me. He adores me. He values everything I have to say. He is my biggest cheerleader. He knows how to pronounce my name. When He wrote my name in His book, He did not misspell it. He wants me to live with him for eternity. 

I have to remember daily whose I am. I am not Hayden’s. Hayden exists separate from me. I exist separate from Hayden. I exist separate from my husband and my kids and my laundry piles and my trips to the ball field. I have to first exist in my relationship with the Lord. This needs to be my daily reminder. It is a constant battle between my flesh and my heart. The enemy is so great at convincing us that our children are our number one priority. That we need to do everything for them so they will grow up to be amazing adults and make us proud. Or maybe we are convinced our spouse needs to be our entire focus; their happiness and serving them and honoring them. Or perhaps we are just certain that our career is where our value is found. Those are all wonderful things, children, spouses, careers. But our first priority is a real, interactive relationship with God. It is why we were created.

And that is why we are miserable running from here to there and back again while we check Pinterest at red lights to make sure we are hitting the mark with our children’s birthday party decor and making certain our Fitbit has synced so we can show the world we dominated the Workweek Hustle. Those things are just not where it is at, y’all. It never will be. Maybe those are all lovely things, but that is not what it is going to be about when all is said and done.

I am preaching to myself in this post; I have got to remember that He is jealous for me. He is jealous for all of this time I wake up and only invest in others and leave Him as an afterthought. In the bestseller, “Imagine Heaven,” John Burke, makes a great connection when he says, “As God reveals to the Old Testament prophets, when we forsake our Creator to go our own way against his will, and when we love other things more than God, it breaks his heart (an idol is anything we put first before God). All the warnings of punishment and judgment for sin and rebellion in the Old Testament remind us that our actions have cause-and-effect consequences. When we turn from our Creator, we hurt God, and we hurt each other – always – even if we don’t see it yet.”

So for whoever out there, like me, can easily feel unworthy and unnoticed, there is good news.

There is a Person who is straight up, head over heels in love with you. He adores you. He values everything you have to say. He is your biggest cheerleader. He knows your name. He wants to see your name in His book. He wants you to live with Him for eternity.