Day 3ish: A Blessing or A Curse?

So I've been less than consistent blogging this week. Part of this has to do with the fact that I overschedule myself, part has to do with the fact that I have too high of expectations when it comes to blogging, and part has to do with the fact that I've been busy with my first week of preschool.

That's right, friends. Twice a week I'm sitting in a Catholic church and learning colors, numbers, and that playdoh is NOT for eating. I can already count to 10 without help and that makes me the star of the class.

Okay, seriously - I'm attending preschool as part of my job as an aide for a little girl with cerebral palsy. She is in a classroom with 10 other 2-and 3-year-olds, all of whom are able-bodied and, so far as I can tell, completely typical. She actually had the opportunity to attend a preschool through the public school system with other children with special needs, but her parents thought she was a little young and we all thought it would be a huge advantage for her to be around typical children in an inclusive classroom setting.

It has been really beautiful to watch those 10 other children reach out to her. Part of it is curiosity, yes, but part of it is the acknowledgment that even with a walker and leg braces and eyes that don't line up - she is just like them. She loves to give hugs and play with shaving cream and blow kisses and shake the maracas in music class.

And of course they have questions - why does she have that chair? Why does she wear that? Why can't she walk? And her teachers and I answer those questions in the most age-appropriate way we can, always reminding the kids that God made all of us different and that's okay.

Of course, that's not at all the view of disabilities in other parts of the world, including Africa. Consider:

The Kiswahili word for disabled is kiwete — part of the object class of nouns, a thing, a diminutive, not a human being.

That is a line from an article from a couple of years ago about the situation that exists for disabled children across Africa. There is a movement now for inclusion of special needs children in the schools there, but for many years, they were shunned, hidden away, the skeleton in the closet.

These children are considered cursed by the gods and spirits for the sins of their fathers and mothers, a source of shame for their families. They receive few, if any, services and are often abused, neglected, or abandoned. And maybe worst of all, they are raised to believe they are unworthy of all the opportunities and advantages their siblings and neighbors enjoy.

It makes me sad for those children and just as sad for their families. In a culture where a special needs child is a mark of shame, some parents may never get past that to understand just how beautiful that child is, how full of potential. They will never understand the joy of the small gains and the way a hard-earned smile can light up a room and bless a day.

And so I encourage you to do a little research and a lot of praying.

Pray for the families with special needs children, that they might be courageous in the face of cultural beliefs to love their children wildly and radically.
Pray that legislators, parents, teachers, activists come face-to-face with these children and all the potential they embody - and that they make bold decisions and push for access for children with special needs.
And pray that all over Africa and all over the world, people with be raised up with special hearts for these most precious children of our Father.

Because once your heart is touched by these kids, you will never ever be the same.

(Me and the tiny BFF on her first day of preschool)

For further research:

Comfort the Children International - An organization with a home in Mai Maihu, Kenya that serves mothers and their disabled children

Naro Moru Disabled Children's Home - A children's home in Kenya with the goal of rehabilitating disabled children so they can be integrated into society as much as possible

Compassion International - Sponsor a child. You can even specify a child who is mentally or physically handicapped

Approaching the Heart of God

I have found myself in the past year looking in on the two sides of adoption. This is, at times, a privilege - the ability to see a complete story, to know that on the other side of a tremendous sacrifice is a family that is made complete. It is beautiful to see the way that our loving Father perfectly orchestrates the process - for example, a baby with a strict diet given to chemist parents who are un-phased by measuring foods to the gram and thrive on schedules and routine.

It is more often, however, heart-wrenchingly difficult. Difficult to watch and know that on the flip side of every happy family is a mother whose heart is breaking. I sat with my friend Beth this year in the hospital, held her beautiful daughter, cried with her, and watched as she made the most loving, self-sacrificing decision anyone could possibly choose. This decision was all the more difficult because my friend is someone who could have absolutely raised her little girl. But she chose to give her daughter more - opportunities, financial security, a big sister, two parents who were ready to be parents.

And that decision hurt - it hurt her to make and it hurt me to watch. It hurts to watch now as months later, she continues to grieve that broken place in her heart. She knows, as do I, that God will work this into a beautiful story that will glorify Him in the most spectacular of ways. Unfortunately, that is a process, and one that is probably lengthy and more painful than I could possibly imagine.

But I can't help to think that in those times when Beth's heart is breaking and grieving the most, she is closer to understanding the heart of God than I will ever be. She understands to a degree I never will the kind of sacrifice God made when He put Jesus on that cross. She understands what it means to love a child so much that you are willing to lay down your own heart's desires so that they might have life to the fullest.

Thank you, God, for Your sacrifice that I may live. And thank you for Beth, that I may understand a little bit more the kind of love you have for us.

That's not me...

I arrived at work on Monday morning and was surprised by a gift. It was marvelous in the fact that it was so completely unexpected. A small loaf of pumpkin bread (my favorite!), a halloween treat bag, some lotion, and a very sincere thank you note.

The gift was meant as a small thank you for all the great work I have done with the young girl I nanny. She has cerebral palsy and the first week or two were rough. She is intensely attached to mom and dad and screams when they are new people to deal with. In the note, the family thanked me for my "positive attitude and abundant energy" in working with Jessie.

I smiled when I read this, not because I was in any way proud of myself, but because I knew I was doing my job. I knew that I had finally managed to get out of the way and let God do His work.

If you don't know me that well, perhaps you don't know that "positive attitude" and "abundant energy" are not terms that could have described me at any point in the last eight years. "Suicidal" and "negative" were thrown around a lot. "Disturbed" or "depressed" were extremely common. But positive? energetic? Never.

I was worried when I took this job - and that worry only increased the first two weeks when there was barely a half an hour that Jessie wasn't screaming and crying. I didn't have the patience for this; I couldn't love this baby; I couldn't do this plus a second job. And finally it hit me: I can't do this job, but HE CAN.

And so I begin every morning with a prayer as I drive to work. I ask God to empty me completely and fill me with His presence and that I can have strength without end to do His work with this amazing little girl. I ask Him to help me remove myself from the picture, to not let my tired, frustrated human body get in the way of what He can do. And He has been so faithful. The result is a love I didn't know I could have for a child with special needs - and a baby who is growing stronger by the day under the love of and care of many people doing God's work.

Jessie laughed yesterday - I mean really laughed, not just her usual giggle. Five minutes of absolutely unbridled laughter as I tickled her at play group. What a sweet sound of heaven it was.