Dear Moms Who Are New To The Special Needs Arena… and everybody else who stumbled into this post,

We’re walking through this new thing together. Feeling it out. Making mistakes. You and me and them.

Let me tell you about this week.

It started out not so great. Not great at all. And then Wednesday came. And God brought this amazing gift and plunked it into my lap. It’s VBS (Vacation Bible School) week at church. I’m working the registration desk, and also a group leader (i.e. the one who gets the kiddos to the really cool places on time).

Let me digress by saying… I’m not intending for this to be a blog all about special needs and how my child is amazing and better than anyone else’s, or any of that nonsense. I’m just a child of God, walking with you through all the craziness that is, well, life.

And this just happens to be our current crazy. But the great thing is that where and when I find grace in the crazy, I’m going to tell you about it, because I think we’re supposed to. We’re supposed to say, “Life is icky right now but God gives me strength and hope and direction and He’ll give the same to you.” Right?

So where was I?

Oh right.

VBS.

So not 48 hours before literally, my kid was the one saying, “Don’t you have anything besides Christian music on the radio?” And today my heart is rejoicing at seeing this boy bursting at the seams to worship and sing “Christian music” during worship time. It’s like God picked every single one of my tears off my cheek and said,

“Look? Do you see? He may have let me go but don’t worry. I won’t let him go.”

Here is this gift: my sweet boy, filled with the joy of the Lord.

So that was Wednesday. And I am no-holds-barred, “Thank you Lord, for pouring straight into this mama’s soul.”

And then we went to bed and Thursday happened.

Thursday sister got braces.

And the Asperger’s side of LH reared it’s ugly head. I watched as he shunned sister. He doesn’t like change. He wanted his Wednesday-sister. Not Thursday-braces-sister. And frankly, he flat out said he didn’t need another reason for kids to make fun of them.

He sulked during supper at VBS.

He gave both of us the stink eye whenever he could. Even avoided the arrival worship music time of the very same music he LOVED yesterday.

His solution to having a sister with braces who would now bring even more teasing upon them? Disown her for the next 18 months. For real. Dis.Own.Her. I watched him do it from across the room – he even took the long way to avoid speaking to her. He TOLD ME he planned to disown her. Because who needs another reason for people to make fun of you?

So on the way home from church, I did what any bad mom would do.

We talked through the miles.

“Do you remember when your eye was broken and you needed surgery? Did sister abandon you?”

“No.”

{Side note, let me just tell you God knows EXACTLY what He’s doing. Our lesson that night was on betrayal – Jesus at the cross and his betrayal by Judas and Peter and the rest of the Jews. Our video? On a brother and sister who didn’t get along. Goosebumps!!}

“Okay, what about when you needed tutoring this year to help with your math? And reading? Did sister shun you? Did she abandon you? Make fun of you?”

“No.”

“Right. And you’ll probably need tutoring this year and next year and the year after that. And that’s okay. Because you need it. Matter of fact, who’s been helping you with writing your letters better this summer, out of her own time, just because she wanted to help you?”

A quiet voice from the back seat whispers, “Sister.”

“So now it’s her turn to need something fixed. Her teeth are too close together and she can’t floss. And maybe down the road her teeth might fall out if she can’t take care of them well. Just like we fixed those things when you needed it, we need to fix things that she needs too.

She didn’t abandon you when you needed her. And it’s not fair for you to do that to her.”

And it’s quiet. And I’m driving for what seems like forever. And I look over and there is whispering between the front seat and the back. And more whispering. And then there is a tug on my shirt and a whisper in my ear.

“I apologized to sister.”

“You did?” I whisper back. “Did she forgive you?”

“I think so.”

“YOU KNOW I CAN HEAR YOU, RIGHT?” sister says.

Ah kids. Bless their cotton-pickin hearts.

So we get home and all is well and I pull LH aside and we talk a heart-to-heart, mama-to-son talk.

“Mama, why do I always get so angry?”

And this is the moment when I tell him that he has Asperger’s (which he thought was HILARIOUS, btw. Just sound it out.) This is the moment that I tell him that HE’S not broken, but a part of him within his brain – the part that makes it hard to tie shoes and hard to make friends and how to process change, that part is broken. Just like we practice writing and tying shoes over and over and over, we’re going to need to work on those social skills and anger issues too.

Just like we fixed his eye, and we’re fixing his educational issues, we have to work on this new thing so that when he does feel himself getting angry, he’ll know what to do.

And then I told him the most important thing he needed to hear.

“Don’t think that God made a mistake when He made you. God made you this way for a certain purpose. And mama will help you with these things as we get to know God closer, but because He made you, He’s definitely not the one to abandon.”

And he got it. He understood. And he felt a ton better knowing that maybe he’s going to turn out fine after all. So TOMORROW… because really, what am I, Even Steven, if we’re keeping score for the good days/bad days this week?… Tomorrow is a new day. It may be a good day. It may be not so good. It may be a complete roller coaster.

But God is showing me exactly what LH needs to hear and see and know in each moment, as He reminds me that He’s got it all under control.

So you, friend? The other day I asked you to tell me we would be okay. I asked you IF we’d be okay. And today, I’m telling you.

We’ve got God.

He’s got us.

He’s got them.

We’re gonna be ok.

Cheering for you,

Karen