We Are In God's Loving Hands, Always
One of the hats that special needs parents wear is that of a risk assessment manager. Depending on the special needs your child has, this looks different. In our case, without even knowing that I’m assessing risk, I am nearly always assessing and maneuvering around potential meltdown triggers, dangers and needs. It’s amazing how fast I can survey an environment and pinpoint each and every possible worst case scenario. How fast I then come up with a contingency plan for each possibility and a plan for continued vigilance and surveillance until our time there is over. I am always two steps ahead in my mind. Many times the worst case never happens, but many times I’m right on and I am ready. My kiddo sees these risky spots just as quickly as I do, it seems. He is also super vigilant in his surveillance of a room. For this reason, I am just always on my toes.
There are emotional risks that are also assessed. Will we be embraced or accepted as we are in this environment? Will our hearts, both my child’s and mine, be safe in this space, with these people? I can make sure that a door is locked, or that there is appropriate physical accommodations made for our needs. That part is easy. It’s the emotional risks that often give me the most pause.
There was a time that my heart had been hurt by watching how some people respond to us. I was so afraid of my child ever feeling like he was less just because of things that are completely out of his control, and of myself feeling that parental pain of observing that, that my first thought would be to sit it out. I never did. I wanted to. I wanted to protect us from the emotional risks so badly, that I’d consider missing the parts of life that make for a full and vibrant existence.
I never benched us. We never sat out, and you shouldn’t either.
Instead, the route I’ve chosen to go when it comes to shielding our hearts, is that of specific and focused prayer. We go. We are now making our way through the Christmas season. A time of excitement and hope and waiting. There are so many opportunities to encounter this pause. Should we go? Will we fit? I no longer entertain those old fears when they enter my mind. I take a deep breath and ask the Lord to guide our day, our thoughts and to be with the people we encounter. I ask that he’ll grow their knowledge and acceptance through their time with us. I ask that he’ll guide their hearts to be inclusive and accommodating. I ask that they not treat us like we’re different, because we really aren’t. And, I thank him for the grace he’s given me, as a parent. I pray that I’ll be able to give that same grace to myself, as I navigate environments that aren’t set up for us, both physically and more importantly emotionally. Finally, I thank him for trusting me with this incredible child, and pray that I am graceful in my parenting of him.
Not one thing has grown my faith more than this practice of specific prayer. When the Lord answers your prayer directly, in real time, it’s life changing, life giving, and sets you free from fear. Choosing faith over fear is no longer a choice for me. I just plain have faith. I’ve entered spaces after praying like this and experienced the most beautiful, caring and loving interactions. I’ve met people that have become friends to me, and my child has also found real friendship and acceptance, as well. I’ve felt that we were safe and protected, just as we are.
This year, there are fewer opportunities for large gatherings. If you do find yourself looking at an upcoming outing or event with that familiar pause, whatever you do please don’t sit out. Take a deep breath and pray. We are in God’s loving hands. Always.
Written by BreAnn Tassone
