Yeah. I ain’t that person.

The Sentiment comes in many forms:

  • Those types of looks.  You know, the ones implying you are using your kid to get out of something everyone else is being forced  to do.  They know those tubes and oxygen bottles are really just there to provide the ultimate fake out.  And it’s been decided that it is time for you to get over it.
  • Seemingly innocent comments wrapped up so tightly in ropes of passive aggressive you find yourself taking a few steps backwards just in case the author’s head explodes.
  • Long drawn out sighs that take place as eyes look towards the heavens. These are always the people who think that they would be the perfect parent for a medically fragile kid with special needs.  At least their teenagers would never show up on Tuesday nights with their mouths still full  of dinner as they try to make a three point shot with the now empty Diet Coke can.

And THEIR kids’ socks would match.

  • Then there are the stories told of the aunt, uncle or butcher who had a kid with special needs and yet they still held multiple church callings, took their kid to every germ infested event imaginable, worked full time AND sewed matching Christmas jammies for the ENTIRE Primary.

Yeah.  I ain’t that person.

I work  as hard as I can with the information and tools available to me, with my right hand held to the square as I promise that I’m doing the very best I know how.

I tend to err on the side of caution.

I base decisions on long term verses short term results

It’s what works for our family and has, for the most part, kept me from throwing myself, head first,  off  Squaw Peak.  To be honest there are days when Reed’s a little nervous to actually let me out of his sight…..just. in. case.

What works for another family of a medically fragile kid with special needs may be totally different than what works for us.

And that’s great.

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What’s not so great is having someone judge you based on what their Great Grandma Ethel’s-neighbor’s-mailman’s second cousin did while raising their kid with special needs.

I’m going to come right out and say it.

(I’ve even got a brand new pair of asbestos undies on just in case.)

Unless you are walking in my family’s shoes, you don’t get it.

Nope.

Sorry.

You just don’t.

So, the next time you see me and think that I really should have my (church calling,  clean car,  getting all the damn daily therapies done, eating dinner at the table every night,  can’t you find anything ELSE besides sweats to wear,  financial and spiritual) act together because It’s Been SIX Years Already!, let me share something with you:

Sometimes it not about  praying for the storm to end .

Sometimes the lessons needing to be learned come when you are drenched  to the bone and jumping in fear as the sound of thunder comes crashing closer.

Sometimes it’s about holding tight to your faith as you stand your ground and find joy in the place where you’ve been called to serve.

Whether anyone else understands where you are coming from…..or not.

18 Comments

  1. Katy Nov 29, 10
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