It’s hard to know where to begin. When life ebbs and flows in tiny wakes, we forget it can be rough. When the wakes form into giant waves that send you reeling, it’s hard to remember your strength. Even when you’ve known the sea was building, you see the wave out on the distant horizon, and know it’s coming for you, that doesn’t mean the wave can’t crash so hard that your lungs fill with a sting that makes everything hurt; in that moment trying to breathe is useless. In that moment all you can do is wait for the wave to pass and then fight to get your head above water.
That’s what these moments have felt like. For a long time we’ve had good reason to believe that Ethan was on the autism spectrum. His speech is still pretty delayed (even though he’s surprising us all the time), he does not like making eye contact, he has tantrums and outbursts out of nowhere, he is completely impulsive, and loves the rhythms of repetition. We were not surprised to hear the developmental pediatrician say he has, “high functioning autism,” but that doesn’t mean it didn’t hit like the wave breaking in a hurricane. It doesn’t mean that even with our suspicions in hand, being clued in for the first time to the fact that there are things he’s going to have to work much harder at than most kids wasn’t crushing. Oh, the pain of knowing that there are challenges your child will face that you can’t fix or make go away! It is the deepest and most real pain.
Does this change anything about how we see Ethan? No. Does this change who he is to us? No. See the list above has everything to do with Ethan’s behavior and development and very little to do with his heart. He is the kindest child. He genuinely cares about those around him. He loves to be outside. Fresh air and movement are his love languages. Well, music belongs in that list also. He believes in himself, and he is fearless in the face of new challenges. He is tenacious and not easily deterred. He loves books, and he really loves Pete the Cat books. He memorizes them faster than most any four year old can. Words matter to him, and I think it’s because he’s had to earn every single one. He is the coolest kid! He has a smile that can take any hard moment or day and make it better. He gives the best hugs. He wraps you up in his arms and legs and lavishes all the affection he can on you. He is amazing. He is a gift, a blessing, and a joy. He always will be.
So what does this diagnosis mean? It means we will have access to tools that can help and equip Ethan for his life. Ethan will learn behavioral things and speech things, and we will learn how to be the parents he needs us to be. We will learn more how to meet him where he is, and we will learn what it means to come alongside him in the ways he needs.
This autism diagnosis isn’t a curse, but it is a means to open the right doors for him. When I think of it that way, I can see what good that access can do for him. I won’t pretend it hasn’t been an exhausting time trying to figure out insurance, evaluations, scheduling appointments, and hanging in on day to day life. It’s been hard. When I’m stressed, I don’t sleep.
Sleep has been elusive for me for weeks. That’s one way I know it’s time to step back and ask for help. I’m so bad at that, but I reached out to a friend named Kristal whose son has autism, and she told me it takes a village and welcomed me to talk with her anytime. That was the first thing that fought against the feeling of figuring it all out alone. That feeling, the feeling of community, took the sting from my lungs and is allowing me to breathe. The next big breath came when the ladies at the speech therapy place we toured spent hours each day chasing down our benefits and working to get us set up. They kept in contact and kept reminding us that they were going to make sure Ethan gets that he needs.
It’s hardest when you feel that lump that says not all is right, and it’s harder when you’re like me and hate asking for help. I’ve always had to go out and work hard for everything. I’ve never been one to be dependent on other people and have always only wanted to depend on myself (marriage was the first time that began to change for me). In the few weeks in getting everything rolling, I know it will take a village. I know that helping Ethan get what he needs will be hard at times, but I know we aren’t alone. I also know he has a daddy and mommy who will fight to no end to advocate for him!
Since the diagnosis, one of my great joys is to hear Ethan sing the song “This Is Me” from The Greatest Showman (link below). Everything in this song is a gift for where we are. He sings it with such conviction that it fills me with hope that if or when the bullies come, or he’s left out or treated differently, he will hold fast to every incredible part of who he is.
This is a diagnosis. Ethan is still Ethan, and I could not be more proud of the person he is and the person I see him becoming.
Our “middle” Ethan turned 4 yesterday. I’ve said it before and I will always believe that he is adventure personified. He has the sweetest way about him, and watching him sneak a kiss on top of his baby brother’s head always makes me smile. When we catch him doing things like that, the look in his face always says, “Just be cool guys!” He is an incredible kid.
This year his progress has left us in awe. His communicative and social skills are developing at such a pace that we are watching him flourish. It is an unfolding heart that as we begin to see inside we have even deeper understanding of who our son is. That feeling leaves me breathless. That feeling leaves me awash with new hope.
We celebrated Ethan with some of the people who love him and our family most in the world. We had the best time, and he was so excited- about his birthday cake! This year that’s just what he wanted, and as soon as he saw it, he got in his seat, with a plate, ready to go!
Part of this delay is that it makes it harder to connect abstract language so directions like, “Blow out the candles,” are not easy to understand. Yesterday, Ethan loved getting to have us sing happy birthday to him, and he, without help at all, blew out his candles! That connection happened. He understood, and then he did it. Something so “simple” may not seem like a big deal in your house, but my heart just about burst wide open when this moment happened. It was incredible. It was another testament to how far we’ve come and where we’re headed. I could not be more proud.
Ethan, you will always be my guy and my pal. I hope you always love to sing and dance with Justin Timberlake and Bruno Mars. I hope that each year we add another candle to your cake, we know more and more about your beautiful heart, and that you know how deeply thankful we are for you and your life. You are a gift and a blessing and a joy, and momma loves you all the time- always, no matter what!
The first “series” I ever wrote was about my kids and their struggle (and our struggle) with having expressive language delays. For anyone out there who has faced additional challenges with their kids, whatever that looks like, you know how world shattering and devastating and downright hard that can be. But hope.
Hope abounds. Even in the struggle, hope is not lost. Hope brings with it new opportunities to look at where you’ve been and to be thankful for where you are.
My children are amazing. I love them so much. When I think about them, their verbal struggles aren’t even close to the top of the list of what I think makes them who they are. Even when I think about the struggle, my focus always lands on how strong they are and how hard they work. If I think about anything negative, I usually think about me. Where I am not always patient (even with the just day to day kid stuff), where I fail to see what they are trying to communicate and how frustrating that can be for all of us, and how impatient I can be in just wanting their progress to happen right now. I just want to give them everything and make it all okay in an instant. Mommas want to fix. We want to make it all alright right now. It hurts to see our babies struggle with tying a shoe or falling off a bike, and we want to make it all better right now. We would turn ourselves inside out to give them that- to make them instantly better.
That’s not how our story has gone, but that doesn’t eliminate all the beautiful hope in it. It has been a process that has taken time, but in some ways, I feel like once the progress really took off, we’ve never looked back and things began to happen more quickly.
Today, Ethan sings songs! What that does for my heart, I can’t begin to describe. To hear him sing just lifts a place in me. He tells me he loves me. That. Each time he does, those moments become some of the best in my life. He is communicating socially more and more, and he is positively thriving at school. He has won the hearts of his teachers a million times over. Gymnastics is his jam, and he is able to show so much focus and is following directions like never before. I am so proud of my pal.
Lauren’s progress also inspires new hope in me as well. When I think about where we started in devastation after those horrible gymnastics classes (see Words: Part One), I can’t speak enough about how grateful I am for where she is today. She is scoring off the charts in every academic area, she is communicating her thoughts and feelings, she has developed an amazing sense of humor, she is making friends, she is growing in independence, and she mastered every kindergarten concept before Christmas break. She is an excellent student, and she is also excellent to the kids in her class. SHE IS COMMUNICATING AT THE SAME LEVEL AS HER PEERS HER AGE! She shows them such love and empathy.
When I re-read the first post I wrote about all of this today as it popped I my Facebook memories, I wept out of being thankful. I wept because my children are living, breathing miracles who are filled with such raw tenacity, I am inspired by them and their courage.
It takes courage to do the work they’ve done to make the progress they have. It takes people caring and loving and being in it with us. You know who you are, and you will always be a part of our story. It takes parents who know they won’t always get it right never giving up on them. We are in it with them. We are for them, and we love them all the time.
We have so much to be thankful for in our sweet little family. That gratitude inspires more and more hope in us all them time. That hope lights the path that we will continue walking on the way to helping our kids become whoever they are meant to be. I can’t wait to see where we all end up, and no matter what that place is, I can’t wait to get there- together.
I think we’re bad at noticing miracles. I think anything that doesn’t happen with the speed of snapping our fingers is easier to write off and overlook.
The best real life example of this from my life is my children’s speech progress. Lauren and Ethan have both come so far that it’s easier to look back and see the answered prayers and miracle their progress has been; it’s been harder to see it in the midst of it.
In the midst of the challenges, it’s been harder than I can accurately describe. It’s been hard to be patient, it’s been hard to hold on to hope when things seem like they aren’t progressing, and it’s been hard to believe that they would.
It’s defeating for something as simple as your child to not be able to tell you something hurts or they don’t feel well to not be possible. Those things hurt in a deep place, and in those moments we want that over now. We don’t want the hurt. We want our miracle, and we want it now.
Why? It’s like the microwave. That’s what we’re used to. Instant gratification. Less work to get what we want. What if God was teaching all of us something in the midst of these challenges?
What if He was teaching us to pray and wait? What if He was teaching us to trust in Him and His timing? What if He was making us better, more patient and loving parents? What if He was building in us foundations of unconditional love? What if He was teaching us what it means to never give up on someone?
Those are all the things I really believe I’ve had to learn to support and love Lauren and Ethan both through these difficult seasons. We aren’t finished working on their speech yet, but I look at my miracles in progress and feel nothing but deep love and adoration for who they are becoming.
I’m thankful for moments when Ethan can tell me he wants a snack or needs to potty differently than most people probably are. Lauren being able to have long conversations like the one she had with Rob before the Daddy Daughter Dance this weekend fill us up in a way that is breathtaking!
I actually hate hearing people complain about their kids talking too much or about being annoyed by their persistent talking. If all that was there was silence, they would feel so differently. Each word would feel like the biggest win! I’ve learned to celebrate the seemingly small things with all the gusto of someone who just won the Super Bowl. That’s what those moments feel like to me. They are the biggest wins ever.
If you’re sitting in a hard season with your kids or your job or your marriage, I would challenge you to press in and look at these from this place.
I also pray with our kids and every night I tell them I can’t wait to hear what they have to say. As they say more and that dream becomes more realized, I’m thankful. I’m not thankful because it’s happening quickly. I’m thankful because it’s happening at all, and in the midst of it, I don’t want to miss seeing it unfold. Slow down. Watch it happen right in front of you.
It will change you. The miracles that happen in you through it all will shape you if you let them. Let them. Let them make you better. Let them make you appreciate more than you do right now. Let them happen in their time, and don’t miss a single second of being grateful.
My oldest boy Ethan has my heart strings looped around his fingers. His smile lifts me on the worst of days. He is always moving fast and full throttle no matter what he does, but he has this sincere kindness to him that gives me hope that I am raising the kind of person who will care enough to change the world.
He has always been a momma’s boy. He has always loved to snuggle me when he first wakes up. He loves to be outside so he can run and climb. He has always been my pal. He has also never been able to really verbally communicate with me until very recently.
I’ve written about the challenge words have been in our home, and now I want to share some celebration through them.
As odd as it sounds, Ethan has gained much more verbal and non-verbal communication skills than he’s ever had in his whole life, and in that, I finally feel like I’m getting to know my son.
That’s even hard to type. My sweet friend Becca said I’ve always known his needs in a way only a mom could, and she’s right. The difference think I’ve settled on is that now I’m getting to know his heart.
That’s huge. That’s changed his affection toward us and others around him. Just to see him wave AND say, “Hi” makes me more proud of him than I could be of anything I’ll ever accomplish myself.
As he communicates and connects more, I see he has a great sense of humor, and really cares about those around him. If his brother cries, he’ll ask, “Are you okay?” He’ll bring him a toy or kiss his head.
That. That may seem small, but it’s the biggest, brightest spot in our world because it brings with it hope. Hope that as we continue on this journey with him, we will get to know him more and more. Every night when I pray for him, I pray for God to give him words. I always tell him that I can’t wait to hear what he has to say.
I have known parents who view their children as an extension of themselves. They see them as something to shine up and show off in their accomplishments or to hide away in their challenges. Those challenges are not a reflection of failure in you that you should be ashamed of, but they are an opportunity to be there for your child in a way that’s not about you. They will never forget how you supported or advocated for them, but they will also always know if you are embarrassed or ashamed of them because of any difference.
Before Ethan was ever born, we prayed and prayed so many things for him. This is the verse that inspired his name, written by Ethan the Ezrahite:
“I will sing of the Lord’s great love forever; with my mouth I will make your faithfulness known through all generations. I will declare that your love stands firm forever, that you have established your faithfulness in heaven itself.” Psalm 89:1-2
I have hope more and more each day for this. Words are really how you get to know someone, and through that their hearts are revealed.
Every single bit of progress in his speech development feels like unfolding and revealing something beautiful that’s been tucked away tightly. Every new word shows us a bit more who Ethan is, and who he is becoming.
As I get to know him, I am filled with gratitude and awash with new love and a depth of feeling that’s beyond words that doesn’t have to have description. For today, just resting in that is beautiful, and I am thankful.
Saying it’s been a hectic month doesn’t seem intense enough a statement for what life has looked like, but saying things are going good doesn’t seem like a positive enough one either.
As we get settled after moving back across the country, I’m thinking back over the last week, and my heart is still rejoicing over one moment in particular that shifted my vision and reminded me of God’s heart.
I was driving to pick my niece up from the airport, and I was praying out loud. I remember our pastor Bob encouraging us to do that. He talked about the freedom and the power in just saying and hearing your heart pour out to the Lord. I’ll admit, it felt super awkward at first, but now it feels like freedom. I find myself being more honest out loud. There’s something in that where being willing to get over the first awkward part really frees you up to be honest in ways you may not know you need to be.
As I was praying, I prayed about the kid’s new schools. I prayed for loving teachers who will “get” them and help them. I also thanked God for the miracle that is their continued progress and asked for more. I prayed and talked about the hurt in my heart for not hearing their voices or knowing what they need or think all the time because they can’t just always tell me. I told God how hard it was and how I longed to hear them.
Then I still, small voice whispered to my heart, “I know what it means to long to hear from your children.” That went off like a bomb in my heart and mind. It was the voice that said I know your hurt. It was the voice that said you aren’t alone in this. It was the voice that said I can heal this hurt because I know it. It was the voice that invited me into more time and depth with my Abba Father.
This revelation has given me renewed hope in this struggle. He’s there, listening, caring, and responding when I call out. He’s there for you too. In all of this struggle, I have to always remember that as an heir and daughter of God the most important thing I can do is sit with Him, be honest with Him, and trust His father heart.
I’m thankful for this moment that affirmed so much for me, and I’m thankful for all that God has done to show me He loves me.
We just went on our whirlwind trip back to the place I call home this side of heaven: Texas. Texas is where I was born and raised, and it’s where a good bit of our family and friends are. I have been looking forward to scooting across Texas for months, and it really was a blessing to be there. One of my favorite moments of the whole trip was something I could have never have seen coming, but I will tuck it close to my heart forever.
This year has been a year where I have come to hate cancer more than ever. I deeply hate it. Over the course of this year we have prayed for a baby girl named Hadlee who passed away, a little girl named Olivia who we found out passed right as we got settled in San Angelo, and for Ms. Carol, the sweet mom of a friend who has become a friend. All three have been battling cancer, and we have prayed for them each day. I try to be very intentional about praying with our kids and explaining to them why that’s important.
This trip, Ms. Carol was in the hospital so we went up to visit because we wanted to let some cute babies put a smile on her face, we wanted her to know that she’s loved, and because we wanted to pray with her while we were there and could.
We all laughed while visiting, and she learned way more about Moana than she probably ever intended to! It was such a sweet time to just get to be with her. When our visit was winding down, I asked if we could pray with her, and the second she said yes, Lauren stepped forward in complete boldness and said, “I’ll pray!”
Her prayer wasn’t long. Her prayer wasn’t searching for “the right words.” It was the most sincere prayer I have probably ever heard. It overwhelmed me to witness this. My five year old daughter stepped out in authority and confidence to intercede out behalf of someone. She immediately stepped up to serve and bless Carol by just talking to God in a way that reflected an ease in communicating her heart to Him. I will never stop being blown away by how beautiful that moment was.
So often as grown ups, I think we forget prayer is just supposed to be that easy. It’s not about anything but that. I am thankful for that reminder. I am thankful for God growing and developing seeds in the lives of my children that are paving a path for how they will walk with Him all their days. I hope she always holds onto the beautiful ease of talking to God like her closest friend.
After she prayed I said that no one could have said anything better than that, and that was the truth. Carol prayed over us, and we said our see you laters. I wanted to go in so this visit could be a blessing to Carol, but I was stunned by God’s grace to me in giving me a moment like this to hold onto.
Two years ago Lauren wasn’t verbal enough to do this. I can’t tell you how many tears I have shed watching her struggle to express herself. I can’t tell you how heartbreaking that experience has been- with both my oldest babies. To see her just step out and clearly communicate her thoughts is something that God made possible through putting Lauren exactly where she needed to be, and by giving her people who could help her get to this place. I could never express my gratitude for the people who have helped her in this season that’s been so hard on my momma heart.
Sometimes it feels like we are spinning our wheels. Sometimes it feels like some of the things we are teaching our kids aren’t getting through. Hold fast! Continue in the good work you are doing! When God raises them up in moments like this you will know why you were called to love and parent like God loves and parents you.
I hope you all find encouragement here to stay in the good fight and to know that someday the harvest from your work will really begin to bloom!
I’ve struggled with this one. I’ve struggled for the right words, but I’ve also struggled with how to walk this out in my life.
I love my babies. I love them fiercely. I love them deeply. There’s not a single thing I wouldn’t do or sacrifice for their good. In the midst of this deep love, I’ve also had to learn to be tough in discipline. I think in some ways we think that disciplining and being loving are opposites, but they are really two sides of the same coin.
I have seen the results of children not being disciplined at two extremes and in areas in between. I volunteered at a place where we ministered to at-risk youth for almost three years. Most of these kids didn’t have parents actively involved in their lives in any way. For the most part, their first brush with discipline was handed down from a judge. A good number of them had never had any real consequences for their behavior. The ones who did, had never known loving correction that hoped to push them to what was better. They knew physical abuse. They didn’t respect discipline or take it seriously.
I’ve seen the other end of the spectrum for people who were never disciplined who atrophied in their ability to grow up. I don’t just mean not spanked; I mean never made to take responsibility. If you never have to work for anything or never learn to accept correction, you won’t hear it from anyone, including the Lord. This looks a lot like someone just being bratty in the way you associate it with a child who didn’t get THE cup they wanted. This looks a lot like someone growing up depending on people instead of Jesus. This looks a lot like someone who will struggle to accept the truth of God when it doesn’t suite them. This is the place I’ve struggled in disciplining my own children.
For me, as a parent of two kids with language delays, I had to realize that I was so excited when they could ask for things or when they could communicate a need, I just wanted to give whatever I could to them because I was so proud. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, but it is not necessarily a good thing either. I had to pay attention to the fact that I could not get on the train of giving them their way all the time. No matter the challenge they are facing, they needed me to love them through discipline. Every child has a challenge. Every child is a sinner who needs to be trained up to know which way to go.
If you’ve ever been with any child long enough, you will see their bend to many things which will not build good character or godliness if not corrected. One example is selfishness. “Mine!” “That’s my toy!” “Those are MY goldfish!” WE DON’T HAVE TO TEACH THIS! They are born knowing how to be selfish. It’s our job to point them in the right direction. It’s our job to discipline out that behavior.
I don’t just mean spanking either. I do spank my kids, but I do it as a last resort. Before I spank them, I speak to them in the language of repentance. I talk to them about what they did. I tell them why it was wrong or not okay. I then ask them to turn from it and to make a better choice and to what is right and good. That’s a picture of repentance- it’s not just knowing something is wrong, but it’s turning from and abandoning that sin to move onto what is right and pleasing to God. I speak to them in the language of repentance now so that when God does, they will already know how this sounds. I also require that they make amends when they’ve hurt someone. I think that’s huge. I think that requiring a child to look someone in the eye and say they are sorry for biting/knocking down their blocks/hurting their feelings/or whatever, builds humility and character in them that teaches something important- the willingness to own up to their wrongdoing and to try to make it right. Especially in the world filled with anonymous bullies hidden behind devices who feel like they can say anything, I think this is important.
I hear the sentiment and statement a lot that, “Kids are mean!” How about we as the global parenting community do something about that? Fixing this starts with me. Fixing this starts with you.
I can’t scream these values into my children. I can’t yell at them enough for them to get these things. I can’t verbally or physically abuse them and expect them to believe I love them. “Or do you presume on the riches of his kindness and forbearance and patience, not knowing that God’s kindness is meant to lead you to repentance?” – Romans 2:4
In kindness and love we have to discipline, but that doesn’t mean not stepping into the mess and seeing these behaviors as what they are. They are sins. I know a pastor who used the illustration of his daughter playing in the dog’s bowl of water. Everyone thought, “That’s funny!” when they heard the splashing and found her soaked head to toe. They’d never really told her not to do this because as any parent knows, there are words you don’t think you’ll ever have to say. He looked at her and told her to stop. She made eye contact with him, slowly raised her arms over her head, and then slammed her fists into the water again. It was in this moment where everyone else laughed that he realized her choosing to rebel against her father was her first act of defiance that was intentional. He realized that is was also enough to separate her from God forever. Do we take these places of our kids sinning so seriously that we would consider it that way? If we did, I think that we would not let so many things go. I think we would see their sin as a bear that we were determined to kill before it could kill them. Would you let a savage bear run full steam at your kid ready to devour them without stepping in the way and fighting it off anyway you could?
“My son, do not despise the LORD’s discipline or be weary of his reproof, for the LORD reproves him whom he loves, as a father the son in whom he delights.” – Proverbs 3:11-12
God spanks. He spanks because He loves us, and because He’s calling us to something greater. I am praying for the wisdom all the time to love my children enough to discipline them well. If I don’t, I’ve seen the end results and possible outcomes for undisciplined children, and I want more than that for them. I won’t and can’t abandon them in their sin. I love them too much for that. Also, do any of us want to raise self-indulgent jerks who only think of themselves, who don’t take responsibility for their actions, who treat others poorly, and live with a deaf ear and fist raised at the throne of God? I don’t want to raise those people, and I don’t want my children marrying them. I hope that parents everywhere can agree on that.
We were watching This Is Us, and a scene came on that suffocated me with how real it was. It’s a scene where the mom Rebecca is in a cabin frantically running from door to door turning locks, and it’s being explained to her son watching from the outside that all she’s doing, really doing, is trying to keep everything out that could hurt anyone and she’s trying to keep everyone safe – no matter the cost to her.
I realized while watching this scene unfold that THIS IS ME! At some point while learning techniques for how to help my kids, doing activities, making support tools, working with them hands-on, and all the other life things I do, I pushed what I felt about this struggle down. I buried it under the “doing of stuff” so far that I was aware of my feelings but numb to them.
I didn’t realize I had done this. When this scene unfolded, it was like standing up on a foot that’s been asleep. You didn’t know it was numb, but once you lean onto it, you feel it come alive, and it hurts.
It hurt so bad. It hurt to finally let all the weight of everything begin to fall. I have felt so tired for the last few weeks now as the bandage has been peeling off this deep wound. I feel these feelings in a way that is completely new to me that is also almost impossible to explain. I have these feelings, but I also have to remember the truth. I wrote a post a while back titled “When you know what you know, but feel what you feel.” I’m glad God moved my heart to start writing out what He has given me in the last few years. It has been great for my heart to go back to those things later, and if I hadn’t captured those words then, they wouldn’t be encouraging me now.
Here’s what I know:
- My children are fearfully and wonderfully made
- My babies are incredible people filled with more amazing qualities than I could list here
- Whatever comes out of this challenge they have both faced and are continually making progress through will in the end be for their good and God’s glory
- It’s okay for the struggle to hurt
I hurt in it. I’ve been alone in it. I have lost part of being honest with myself in making new charts and finding new activities. I have allowed myself to be more their teacher in this area and less their momma to wall off and protect myself from the real stuff in it. That doesn’t mean I have not loved them well or done those things from any place of motivation that wasn’t good. It just means I busied myself and the result was distraction from my own feelings. It is impossible to not want to just fix whatever is wrong for those you love. If I could have waived a wand and made it all different I would have, but I instead did the things I knew would help them – those things just didn’t honor the real stuff that was happening in my own heart.
The real stuff is hard and scary and unsettling. The real stuff is not without hope though. The real stuff just requires facing in honesty what IS and how that FEELS. I’m learning all the time those are different.
Today I don’t have all the answers, but I know that I love them all the time. I know that’s the most important thing. I know my husband and I will see them through every challenge that comes along with love in our hearts that are fully surrendered to Christ. I know that whatever comes or whatever work has to be done, it will happen. They will have every opportunity to grow and develop. It will all happen.
As my nerves open up to a pain long buried, I’m not really alone. I have my best friend and husband. I have beautiful children who make every day, no matter how difficult, worth it. I have a name written on the hands of my Savior who cares and intercedes for me.
In the pain, there’s bigger truth I can be anchored to as I work through the feelings that are coming alive and out of numbness. God cares about my heart in this. The hurt won’t always be there, but it’s okay that it is today. It’s okay to let myself feel it, and it’s okay to then get passed it and onto a new hope that will be birthed out of new mercies with each dawn.
We are each finding our way through words towards new wholeness. A friend pointed out the beautiful irony in that given how much words have been the challenge. I’ll take the irony with the joy that is coming with it. Words will always mean so much more to me now, and I tuck the ones spoken in our home away in my heart and feel it begin to mend.