Hello!

This isn’t a “mom” blog. It isn’t a “religious” blog either. It’s not a “how-to” article, a “10 ways to know that..” or a recipe box. I’m not selling anything or judging anyone. This blog won’t win a teacher of the year award. It won’t solve all your dinner time problems. This blog is mostly for me. It is the outward expression of my inward monologue. Read More

The Balls I Let Drop

Can I tell you a secret… I’ve been dying to post pictures of my Christmas decorations on Instagram. Seriously, I can’t wait for people who haven’t ever stepped foot in my house to tell me how beautiful my Christmas tree is. How self absorbed does that sound?

But I haven’t because I’ve had to let some balls drop the over the last two weeks.

Week before last my kid and husband got sick. Then I did too.

And because when it rains it pours, it was also a busy week at work. And let’s not even mention the behavior regression that led me to have talk to my child’s school principal and behavioral specialist not once… but three times in two weeks. And not to place blame, but once my husband recovered, he had to get caught back up at work. I felt like I didn’t see him for three days.

All this from a cold. A tiny evil virus that morphed into an infection. Blah!

I also had several friends get sick. ‘‘Tis the season, right? One was a new mom of a four month old trying to “balance” work and a sick baby. And then of course a sick self. What is it about families sharing germs?

We text back and forth and she asked me to pray for her. She was wearing too many hats and felt like she she was failing at everything. She just couldn’t find balance.

Truth 1: We women a great multitaskers, so we often think we can do it all. But we can’t. Let’s just admit that right now. At least not every day and all the time. If you are juggling to much to are bound to drop something eventually. Times of sickness, even a minor cold, can wreak havoc on that balance we have think we have.

Truth 2: finding balance between work, home life, friends is NOT a one time thing. It’s a constant battle. An every day effort. And some days are more balanced than others.

So, how do we cope? How do we navigate life when we want to be awesome at everything all the time but just can’t be?

1. I get by with a little help from friends. Feel free to burst into song

Truthfully, it’s a group effort.

I have co-workers who cover for me. Set up lesson plans for me and tidy my desk on days when I give up and finally take a sick day.

I have a group of friends I text for prayer. Those who I admit to on days when I can’t even.

My husband is my best friend. But when our ship goes down, we typically go down together. Why can’t I be sick and just be me so I can be taken care of?

I’ve also cultivated a very small group of mommas. The kind that give me a fist bump and say, “Solidarity, sister.” When I need someone to vent to because my kid kicked a teacher and now I feel like a terrible mom.

And other friends who simply text me when it’s a jeans day at work. Because nothing helps you get through the day like comfy jeans.

Another friend offered to pick up medicine and dinner for me. I declined, because it was a cold… not the flu or some other plague. But that offer was real and full of kindness.

Tip: if you are in a good place at the moment. Be that kind friend! They are the best!

2. Choose the balls you want to let drop. I’m being real here. If you have too much on your plate, pick what can wait. I’d rather do that, otherwise something will get dropped and it might be something more valuable.

Last week, I let the dishes drop. Yep, the dishes sat in the sink for, gasp, a week and nobody died.

Last week, I left the clean laundry in baskets and piles on the couch.

Last week, I admitted to my work team I was drowning in my own stuff. I asked permission to delay something I always did for them. They let me. They still like me. I hope!

Last week, I told my principal and head of curriculum I was “under the weather” but I would get them those dates they needed next week. I did get them what they needed, but I did it when I was more focused.

Last week, I didn’t help my son study for a spelling test nor did we decorate our school/family gingerbread man project. I focused on his behavior expectations instead. We prayed together, snuggled and talked. That, my friend, has value. He did get his gingerbread man turned in… two days late.

Last week, I set aside my grading and got caught up on my rest. I took a sick day and binge watched a new show and slept. They students all survived a day without me.

Last week, we ate take out and mix matched random stuff from the fridge. But no one went hungry.

If I did this forever, it wouldn’t work. But it was just a week. And the hardest part was setting aside my pride.

This week, I’m rested. I’m mostly caught up on grading after three nights of staying up late. I feel physically and mentally in a better place. I’ll work towards maintaining some appearance of balance and eventually get it together. I might even see my husband this weekend.

I plan on cleaning my house this and posting my my Christmas decoration pictures. But I’ll add an asterisk: last week, I let the balls drop.

Sister, what balls can you let drop this week? What hats do you feel comfortable not wearing for a bit so you can feel more balanced? Can you give yourself permission to not be picture perfect?

Dear Church, I Don’t Need Your Special Needs Ministry

As a church volunteer over the years, I’ve seen the trends: youth ministry, singles ministry, recreation ministry, and most recently special needs ministry.

It sounds awesome, right? Let’s make our churches more inclusive. Let’s be more sensory friendly. Let’s educate our staff on developmental issues. All of these are great things and worthy of discussion in our churches.

But there I was as a “special needs” parent waiting.

Waiting for the church to change.

Waiting for my visit to a new church to be easy.

Waiting for MY needs to be met.

Just waiting for it not to be so hard.

We attend church on a semi regular basis. (I say semi regular because I chicken out on many days when staying home and resting is just easier. I love Jesus and his people, but… let’s be real here. )

We bring noise blocking headphones for worship, the same ones my son uses at school.

We go to a contemporary service, so a dark room, bright lights and loud music mean we sit near the back.

The Sunday school teachers are informed: there is a label on his name tag that says “Autistic. Prone to seizures.”

For the first time my son was able to attend VBS. It wasn’t easy. I volunteered so I could be close by and help with bathroom breaks. At one point, I broke out in a dead cold sweat from the anxiety. (Bathrooming a sensory kid in public is a challenge)

I skip church on days I know the schedule will be wonky or there won’t be childcare. (Many churches think kids over 4 should join their parents in corporate worship. Great in theory… but… not for my family.)

I leave as soon as the service dismisses or I sneak out the side to avoid the the large crowd gathered to fellowship. Even though my deepest desire is to join in the conversation, my kid pulls me to the car.

When will going to church not be so much work?” I wonder?

I’m caught in the tension between wanting the world to change to make my life easier, and pushing myself and my son to be self sufficient in a world that will never be easy.

I talked to our children’s minister before we started attending our current church. I’ve even been asked to be on a discussion group for special needs ministry by a dear friend who is a children’s minister at another local church.

What do you need,” they always ask?

A buddy for your son? A sensory box? Do you want to talk to the Sunday school teacher?

I don’t need programs. But well trained volunteers/buddies are awesome!

I don’t need a sensory friendly VBS track. Though they sound so cool!

I don’t need a special class. But dude, a support group would be amazing!

I don’t need sensory play boxes. My kid climbs me, rocks in my lap, and touches my hair. If you would like to volunteer to sit with my kid every once in awhile so I could focus, I would gladly accept.

What I do need:

I need relationships. I need a buddy, sometimes more than he does. I need someone to notice me and really ask me how it’s going and how they can help. I need someone to instead of saying, “Looks like you have your hands full.” To offer to walk with me and my kids to the car. I think if we trained our church staff and volunteers to invest in others, really go deep, we wouldn’t need programs. They would see the need and meet it. And special needs family are so unique, so diverse: each one has different needs. You would need to know each family individually.

I need trust. I need to trust the church so that I can be vulnerable enough to even ask for help or accept it when it is offered. Sometimes I still struggle telling people my son has special needs. He looks so typical on the outside to the untrained eye. This kind of trust only happens when we build relationships. I don’t think it’s too much to ask to purposely build relationships with those families in your church you know have struggles.

I need to serve. As counter intuitive as it sounds, it follows Christ’s example. But, I don’t need to serve my own child. I fell into this trap before. I was in the baby room because my child was. Then, I moved to the toddler room. Next, preschool. Babies are cute but make me anxious. My giftedness are preschoolers and middle schoolers. Crazy… but true. And now I’m leaning into women’s ministry. I need church to be my respite care. Where I can serve and grow in areas of my own God given giftedness.

I need to be understood. Maybe this falls under relationship, but it’s also unique. I have several friends, but I only have two or three I call or text when my kid does something unique to his situation that breaks my heart or wears me down. They never compare, or say it’s not that bad, They just say, I’m here for you. Understanding and empathy is hard. This is were training your staff, volunteers, heck the whole congregation, on Autism, ADHD, child development and similar needs would be extremely helpful. You know that kid bouncing the entire church service? He heard everything. He just processes information differently and this big loud room was a lot to take in. And you know how that kid seemed to be okay? After the big event, he kicked, screamed, and had a complete meltdown on the way home. He was overwhelmed and held it in as long as he could.

I need open and frequent conversations. I need to be checked up on. How did VBS go? How did Sunday school go? What was the hardest part? The best part?

I’m not waiting for the church to meet my needs. I’m showing up, even when it’s hard.

But sometimes the hardest things, those are the most beautiful.

At one point at VBS this summer, we attended the group worship and music session. I looked around and felt the tangible Spirit of God and his grace. It hung thick. The children and volunteers made a large circle, 200 plus, around the sanctuary. Most standing and holding hands. Shy of two boys in my group who wouldn’t hold hands, but danced beside me. Then, Two little girls who seemed too shy to join the group but sat joyfully signing. A boy with Downs Syndrome and his mom sat in the center. And my son, in the lap of his “buddy,” his headphones on, rocking to the beat. All of these singing or worshipping in their own way. That’s true inclusion. Not everyone doing the same thing in the same way. But everyone included, joined for the same purpose, each in their own way, bringing with them their own giftedness. No one even saw the tears in my eyes.

That day was beautiful, but many are still rather hard.

Dear Church, I don’t need your special needs ministry, but I really want the relationship.

I wrote this openly to the Christian church, and not an individual church. I feel if the Church embraces relationships over programs there will not be a need for “special needs” ministry. In fact, the needs of an entire congregation will be met together: the single mom, the widow, the big family, the college single and more. All the sensory boxes in your foyer won’t get me to stay if I don’t have a relationship with the people of the church.

As resources for special needs and general encouragement, I follow:

https://www.keyministry.org/

Key Ministry promotes meaningful connection between churches and families of kids with disabilities for the purpose of making disciples of Jesus Christ. Their blog posts are encouraging for both church leaders and special needs families.

@sandrapeoples

A special needs family encourager and author. Church leader and mom of two cool boys, one with Autism.

@theluckyfewofficial

Author and public figure: Down syndrome and adoption are her jam. The pictures of her kids will brighten anyone’s day.

@lifewithgraysonandparker & www.lifewithgrayson.com

Mom of two amazing boys with Autism. Seeks to find beauty in everyday life. Advocate for inclusion.

Welcome to Voices of Special Needs Blog Hop — a monthly gathering of posts from special needs bloggers hosted by The Sensory Spectrum and Mommy Evolution. Click on the links below to read stories from other bloggers about having a special needs kiddo — from Sensory Processing Disorder to ADHD, from Autism to Dyslexia! Want to join in on next month’s Voices of Special Needs Hop? Click here!

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Living Letters

I don’t remember exactly who said it, but growing up I was told, “You might be the only Bible someone ever reads.” The idea was that your actions, your testimony when you claim to be a follower of Christ might be the only representation of Christ someone ever hears. They may never actually pick up the Bible and read it, but they see how you live your life.

That made sense to me. It’s the culture we live in: relationship and authenticity are paramount.

As I was doing my summer Bible study through She Reads Truth: Corinthians, I stumbled apon a verse I had either never read or never read well enough to remember it.

“Are we beginning to commend ourselves again? Or do we need, as some do, letters of recommendation to you, or from you? You yourselves are our letter of recommendation, written on our hearts, to be known and read by all. And you show that you are a letter from Christ delivered by us, written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone but on tablets of human hearts.”

‭‭2 Corinthians‬ ‭3:1-3‬ ‭ESV‬‬

I don’t know if it’s because I teach English and enjoy writing, but this verse felt tangible.

You are Christ’s letter, delivered.

Not written with ink but with the Spirit of the living God –

Not on tablets of stone but on tablets of the human heart.

The contrast between the cold hard stone and the life giving, warmth of the human heart reminded me of similar contrast between the cold, ridged, old law of Moses and the warmth of forgiveness and redemption that Jesus brought.

Then, I went back to the first part:

You yourselves are our letter, written on our hearts, known and read by everyone.

She Reads Truth referenced this as being similar to our use of a letter of recommendation. Something that was used during this time period when going to a new town, or new church. While Paul is talking about the Church at Corinth, my thoughts were drawn to my own reflection.

Am I accurately reflecting Christ in my daily life? Do I daily radiate the warmth of redemption? Does my digital life flow from the Spirit of the living God or the spirit of materialism, consumerism and division? If someone who never read the Bible saw me, would they even think Christ was worth following? What recommendation do I give to Christ and His Church? Am I living by the letter of the law which brings death or through the Spirit that gives life?

“Such is the confidence that we have through Christ toward God. Not that we are sufficient in ourselves to claim anything as coming from us, but our sufficiency is from God, who has made us sufficient to be ministers of a new covenant, not of the letter but of the Spirit. For the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life.”

‭‭2 Corinthians‬ ‭3:4-6‬ ‭ESV‬‬

But our sufficiency is from God, who has made us sufficient to be ministers of a new covenant,

Not of the letter but of the Spirit…

The Spirit gives life.

“I have come so they can have life. I want them to have it in the fullest possible way.”

‭‭John‬ ‭10:10‬ ‭NIRV‬‬

Were you inspired by this verse? Have you ever thought of Bible journaling? Join my friend, Michelle, from Straw-Bearie Designs as she adds a beautiful design to her Bible. Watch her YouTube video as she gives you step by step instructions of her journaling technique.

My Other Mommas

My mom wasn’t “the best.” In fact, she was very flawed. My mom was beautiful. She loved Jesus and was a prayer warrior. She inspired me to be a reader, writer, and artist. She laughed at parties and played dress up with me. She always had her camera ready to snap my picture. She loved me. However, she also had a chronic illness and suffered on and off with depression. Life wasn’t perfect. Prayerfully, I had lots of “Other Mommas” step in when my mom couldn’t be what I needed her to be.

In elementary, I thought my momma was the best. And at that time, she was exactly what I needed. But at one point, I remember staying at my Sunday school teacher’s house a lot, eating cookies and being loved on while my mom had doctor appointments.

In middle school, I had my youth minister. She was calm and patient in my life’s stormy night.

In high school, I had my best friend’s mom. Besides having the best stocked pantry, her home was my safe haven and my getaway spot. I always knew I was welcome, and my mom trusted her to keep me safe.

Then I had my transition mom‐the mom that inspired me to pursue college when my family was completely broke and college felt like a dream intended for others. This mom saw the potential in me. She saw what I didn’t.

In community college, I had my hippie mom. She was part of my church, gave me an affordable place to live, taught me a different way to cook, and always invited me to her table for dinner. She even gently scolded me when I came home way too late.

After I got married, I had my mother-in-law. In a culture that says I’m not supposed to get along with her, we struggled at first to find our groove. But whenever we needed anything, she showed up, and I now can’t think of a life without her.

A few years later, my mom left this world and went to meet Jesus. But, regardless of our age, I don’t think we ever stop needing a mom.

Lately, I’ve had a Bible study mom. The mom who inspired me to pick up my Bible more and worry less. She showed me what faithfulness looks like. She gave me the “mom” advice I so desperately needed.

To all my moms, thank you! With society saying that we should do it all on our own, they came alongside my mom to nurture me.

Ladies, there isgood news and bad news. The bad news is you cannot be “THE BEST” mom. You are human and flawed. You can be good, great even, but you can’t meet every need of your child in every season of life. Our culture shouts for perfection and independence. When we compare, we fall short. In contrast, Jesus calls for our humbleness, compassion and selfless love for others.

The good news is we are not alone. I don’t think we were ever intended to be. We are a tribe‐ sisters in Christ. Ruth had Naomi. Mary, the mother of Jesus, had her cousin Elizabeth. At the time of her son’s crucifixion, Mary was surrounded by three other women. Timothy’s mom Eunice had her mom Lois, and together they raised up Timothy.

We are many parts of one body, and we all belong to each other. In his grace, God has given us different gifts for doing certain things well.

‭‭Romans‬ ‭12:5-6‬ ‭(NLT‬‬)

The Bible doesn’t say we need to be able to do ALL things well, only what we are gifted. But since we belong to each other, together we can truly raise up and disciple our children.

Be the Sunday school mom: teach Bible verses, wear a big smile, give warm hugs, and rock fussy babies for that tired new momma.

Be the Youth momma: be a good listener, open your home, give loving advice, be a safe environment for those angsty teens.

Be the Inspiring mom: when the world says they can’t; you say, “I believe in you!”

Be the Hospitality mom: wash the dishes, open your home and your table, bring the covered dish to the momma and family who needs it.

Be the I’m There For You mom: babysit, offer to help out, just show up when needed.

Be the Bible study mom: pray, send bible verses, share words of faith, encourage those struggling mommas.

It’s also okay to be the I Can’t Even Right Now mom: be transparent, be honest, let other mommas come along side you.

Your motherhood isn’t reserved only for your own children, nor do you have to be every mom in every season. Sisters, be who God gifted you to be.

Dedicated to Milly, Olive, Pat, Lana, Diane, Terijo, Lisa, and Marsha.

Learning to Walk

Two weeks ago, on our “snow day”, Em took her first independent steps. Now, she is walking everywhere!

Watching her learn to walk was the most beautiful thing. Watching her slowly let go of her fear, and the cabinet she was holding on to to steady herself, and taking her first few steps. Then, once she realized she could do it… she did it again and again. She laughed; we clapped and cheered.

There is so much joy in learning new things. Going from frustration and tears, to laughter and handclaps. To go from saying “I can’t” and “This is too hard.” To repeating your new learned skill over and over.

As an adult, I get stuck in the “I can’t even” phase too often. However, the hardest seasons in life, often bring so much growth. But if we can remember that image of sheer joy that can follow, that “look at me” type joy, perhaps we can press on. Perhaps the hard part will strengthen us, help us grow, and leave us dancing with joy.

“Dear brothers and sisters, when troubles of any kind come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy. For you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow. So let it grow, for when your endurance is fully developed, you will be perfect and complete, needing nothing.”

James 1:2-4 NLT

What are you or your family working toward? Are you still in the hard part? What fear are you holding on to? Are you ready to let go? Or are you on the other side and ready to be greeted by a cheering section?

Tears, mourning, and rejoicing: one journey to an Autism diagnosis.

Recently, a friend sent me a podcast of a mom who had not one, but two children diagnosed with Autism. It was the story of her journey. My friend asked my thoughts, I replied, it was good; but her journey sounds nothing like mine. I friend then replied, “So, tell me your story.” So here it is:

When my baby was born, I felt so blessed. We had been waiting several years to have a baby. Then, like many new parents that blessed feeling was overcome with sleepless nights and as luck would have it, a colicky baby. Despite the lack of sleep, my baby boy X was absolutely beautiful.

At our 9 month well visit our Pediatrician asked a few questions and then proceeded to give me a form to fill out. The nurse called me the next day, “Your son seems to have some delays. We are giving you a referral to ECI” With very little explanation of this Early Childhood Intervention, I took down the phone number.

As a new mom, when he wasn’t rolling over, was slow to learn to sit up, or didn’t match the “Baby Center” definition of typical development, I took note. My family all said stuff about every baby developing at their own pace. So I was concerned, but no one else was. We had a healthy and beautiful baby. Even the doctor seemed to be pushing us off on someone else.

An ECI evaluation showed a 40 percent gross motor delay. We started some very basic Occupational Therapy home visits. After three months, X met his goals so I stopped the home visits.

Then, other issues had started to arise: mostly sensory and eating related. He had started refusing to take a spoon after I attempted to move up to chunky baby food.

For his entire life I had made cute, healthy, organic homemade baby food. I didn’t understand if I was doing everything by the book, why was he refusing to eat? The OT told me that babies with gross motor delays often have delays or less strength in their tummy muscles. So I started treating him like he was three months younger in regards to food. That helped… for awhile.

Our pediatrician was no comfort or support… so I moved on. I found one who told me I was a good mom and gave me useful suggestions and guidance.

But the delays continued.

He didn’t walk until he was 17 months old
18 months he started throwing epic 45 minute inconsolable fits.
By 2 years old and he said maybe 5 words.
Also at 2 years old the food battle got real… he quit eating, lost weight, and we had weight checks, food diaries and such. The doctor concluded… feed him whatever he will eat and lots of it. I said goodbye to my hippie dreams of a kid eating fruits, veggies and quinoa. I traded that for peanut butter crackers and protein shakes.
By 2 1/2 the phobias, fears and anxiety peaked. Fear of loud sounds, fear of water, fear of small or unfamiliar spaces. We stayed home more. I became more isolated. Why would a child who had never had any trauma be experiencing such fear?

Out Pediatrician recommended a developmental pediatrician, but our insurance was… let’s just say… a joke.

We filled out paperwork for the developmental pediatrician. This was heart wrenching. Every question they asked pointed directly to an issue we knew was there. His whole life laid out on paper.

This began the waiting game.

Waiting for an appointment.

Waiting for Insurance approval.

And the rabbit hole of internet research.

This entire time family and friends never really saw the whole picture.

“He will get there.”

“He is just being picky.”

“His dad was like that when he was little.”

“All kids go through phases like that.”

“You are just not being strict enough. With my kids I…”

While this was intended as support, it made me feel like I was overreacting. Or worse, just not cut out for parenting. I must be a wimp, I thought.

Around age 3, I had enough waiting. I paid for an evaluation myself from a private OT. It revealed specific areas of concern. I couldn’t afford the private therapy. My pediatrician suggested I do one or two sessions and use the information to give him OT myself. And that’s what I did. Sensory table play, fine motor skills, playing ball, working on words. That’s summer my house became a therapy center. To the outside observer it just looked like I was being super mom and created a preschool at my house.

Then the waiting was over, at age three and a half we had an appointment with a developmental pediatrician and an evaluation from our public school.

As we approached the Developmental Pediatrician’s office, we saw the four story building and cringed. A trip up an elevator that brought X to tears and filled him with fear. The tiny office filled with people and noise was too much. The doctor saw him in all his messiness. After an hour or so of evaluation she asked about our purpose. We stated that we desired some sort of diagnosis’s that our Insurance would cover therapy. She said she would need a follow up visit to confirm, but she felt very comfortable saying X had autism with obsessive and restrictive behaviors.

The days that followed were filled with tears: mourning the loss of the life I thought and dreamed I would have. At the same time rejoicing. Rejoicing over the fact I wasn’t overreacting. I wasn’t a bad parent. I wasn’t doing it all wrong. There was a reason for his behavior, and it wasn’t me. This lifted a huge weight of guilt off my shoulders.

The weight of guilt however was replaced by fear of the long journey ahead.

My husband was very supportive. He went to every doctor visit. But still he was very quiet and didn’t have the same reaction I did. He saw it as a problem we could fix. Problem, solution, we got this.

My family didn’t really understand either. My dad insisted that we start saving money for X’s long term care. He feared the “what if” he could never work or take care of himself. Those thoughts never crossed my mind and seemed a bit overboard. I was still focused on paying for the short term expenses.

In contrast, my sweet in laws didn’t see any problems. Just their beautiful grandson. He was fine. They let him be who he was, but didn’t talk much about it. (Please note: they are some of the few people I’ve trusted to care for X overnight or for long periods. So their relaxed, “He is fine” method actually works for the most part.)

However, I had a few close women from my bible study group who soon would understand. Our ladies bible conference, IF Gathering, was two days after this appointment. It only took a few worship songs, a powerful speaker, and a few to the point conversation cards to tear open every wound for my journey. The tears poured out… in public. My brokenness was obvious. But my pain became the shared pain in our table group.

We had a follow up visit a month later. Followed by a evaluation from our public school. They agreed with the diagnosis.

We started a PPCD program, a special education preschool type program, at our public school. We started receiving support and School based therapy.

The approved private therapy center was an hour and a half away. After repeated appeals to our Insurance… I fired them. I switched to a higher cost plan my job started offering. To balance the cost, I dropped my husband from my plan.

At age 4 we started pre-k with inclusion support and weekly OT and Speech at school and additional weekly private OT. I could write a book on this exhausting process. But we finally had a plan and a goal.

Our journey didn’t end there. There was and is more to come. Follow up appointments, therapies, teacher conferences, evaluations and re-evaluations. Insurance battles and finding creative solutions. But only one goal: improving the quality of life for our child and our family. And I will say, it has improved. We have new and different struggles, but that initial search for a diagnosis is over.

At the same time, I didn’t shout from the rooftops his diagnosis. It took a good year before I could speak it out loud without choking up. I refuse to believe that my child is defined by a diagnosis, but he is better understood because of one. I didn’t long for the label…. but I needed it.

“We have labels that are tied to funding. We have labels that are tied to resources. But the only label you (the Teacher) should be focused on is that they are YOURS. They are your kid.” – My superintendent speaking directly to our public school teachers

My journey may look different than your’s. My story may have different elements. But the truth is: pain, loss, and life’s struggles, are universal. It just varies in shape and form.

But suffering is optional. – Mark Twain

Whenever possible, choose joy.

In the midst of this crazy journey, We somehow are managing to raise a beautiful, smart, kind and funny boy. We have wonderful memories. And where the was pain, there was often even more love.

My prayer is that wherever you are in your life’s journey; you find joy, peace and hope. That you may have a tribe of family or friends who will get down in the muck of life and pull you up. And if you need that, I’m here. Tell me your story.

When we listen to stories, there is no room for stereotypes…. This is a Kingdom way to live, because instead of labels and categories, we begin to dwell in actual humanity. – Shauna Niequist in Savor

Welcome to Voices of Special Needs Blog Hop — a monthly gathering of posts from special needs bloggers hosted by The Sensory Spectrum and The Jenny Evolution. Click on the links below to read stories from other bloggers about having a special needs kiddo — from Sensory Processing Disorder to ADHD, from Autism to Dyslexia! Want to join in on next month’s Voices of Special Needs Hop? Click here!

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