Transition. It's a word special needs parents (and those that work with special kiddos) know all too well. Even parents of typical kids have experience with it. It's the two year old who doesn't want to leave the playground to go home. He wants to stay and keep playing. So with arms flailing and lungs whaling you scoop him up, put him in the car, and leave. A strong-willed child is tough!
Now imagine this child is 10 or 12 or 14. Imagine a child this age, for various reasons, struggling to transition. Maybe it's because of a sensory issue or because it's a break from the usual "routine," or maybe you cannot even pinpoint why they will not transition. Imagine a child so set in his ways that he will not willingly try new experiences; fun activities such as sliding down a slide or eating pudding or safety issues like leaving a school building for a fire drill.
The ladies that make up my support group have laughed and cried over these experiences. Getting stuck in the McDonald's playground tunnels because we were so determined to get our kid to go down the slide! Trying to hide, disguise, or quickly put a dab of new food on our child's plate or mixing it in with foods they already eat, and then getting the cold shoulder once the offense is discovered. We've had to be a blend of creative, patient, and tenacious in our parenting! And although I could clearly identify my child's struggle with transitioning I seemed to be oblivious to my own.
Anyway, the previous year had found me in a funk. I was struggling with this new place God had me. You see, my dad passed away in 2013, and my mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer's the following year. Like most parents, mine had been a huge support to me and the glue that held the entire family together. This new season was one of feeling like I no longer had a family. I do have siblings, but all of us have families of our own. Some live far away. Some have jobs. Some were busy taking care of our mother, which I was and am incredibly grateful for. But our family dynamic had definitely permanently changed, and for my still young family, it was a difficult adjustment; one I wasn't happy about and struggling to trust God with.
It was at our JAF mom's meeting Thursday morning that another mom opened up about her frustration in dealing with her son's inability to transition ... even to things she knew he would enjoy if he'd just try it. "If he would just trust me," she cried. Gosh, was that a light bulb moment as it felt like God was saying those words to me! Suddenly I realized my children on the spectrum are not the only ones who struggle with transition. As so many times before, God used the mirror of my children's brokenness to show me mine. Why wouldn't I trust God with this new season? Why couldn't I trust that perhaps He was leading me to a new place, one that would lead to more fulfillment and happiness? This was my first glimpse into the fact that I was not the "normal" one dealing with "abnormal" children. I wasn't fully able while my children were disabled. I have my own non-abilities, my own quirks, my own abnormalities. Ones the Lord continually reveals to me through the experiences of my children.
God was really driving His point home with me as about a month later someone asked me what the difference was in having "typical" kids and "special" kids, as I have two of each. My initial response was that I lose my patience much easier with me "typical" kids because they know better than the things they do. Yet, I have tons of patience with my "special" kids because they are disabled. They can't help it!
As that week went on for some reason God would not let that answer go. It seemed in all my quiet time that answer came back to the surface, and I just couldn't figure out why. When one morning while reading in the Book of Romans, "For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God" and, "Where sin abounds, grace abounds all the more" (Rom.3:23, 5:20) another light bulb moment occurred. If all have sinned and fall short, why would I not extend grace equally to all? Why would one who has a physical manifestation of brokenness be extended more grace than one who does not - than one whose brokenness is still just as real, just as present but concealed in a vessel that appears to be unbroken? The truth is God sees our hearts and is continually refining our spirits because they are broken. Imagine with me if we all saw heart and soul disability as our actual physical representations. I think we might all be flabbergasted to know we are all disabled, all broken, and all in need of God's great grace and grace from each other.
This eye-opening moment has caused a shift in how I view my children, and in fact, how I view everyone I come in contact with. I pray I always remember this lesson that the Lord allowed me to have. Extend grace. Extend mercy. Extend love. People are hurting and broken. Life is full of transitions, and people don't need to hear unkind and simplifying sentiments. Do your best to comfort and encourage and leave whatever work that needs to be done to the Lord knowing whether in your life or another's He Who has begun a good work is faithful to complete it. (Phil. 1-6) We are all transitioning by His great grace!
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