On My Birthday...

Goodbye, 31...  Honestly, I can't say I'm sad to see you go.

You were a hard on me, 31.  But I think one day I will look back and see that you defined me.  You were the year I had my biggest wrestling match to date with who I am, who God is, and how this whole thing we call life is supposed to work, anyway.  I think I came face to face with some hard truths about myself at 31.  I was more shallow than I knew.  I was more fearful than I realized.  I was more lost than I wanted to let on.  I pray that I come away from this year changed.  I want to say this year transformed me, and that at the end of it, I was able to let go of some fear and doubt in order to embrace a new season of hope and trust.

At the end of 31, this is what I know.

" O LORD, you are my God; I will exalt you and praise your name, for in perfect faithfulness you have done marvelous things, things planned long ago. . . You have been a refuge for the poor, a refuge for the needy in his distress, a shelter from the storm and a shade from the heat."  Isaiah 25:1 & 4

God has a perfect plan for my life.  It's time to stop questioning the reality of that fact and embrace it as a statement of truth.  That's my plan for 32.  Run with that reality in my heart.  Step out of the fear that has been weighing me down for far too long.  Embrace the simple truth that my life--right now, today, this moment--is within the palm of his steady hand.  Fling my arms open wide under the bright blue sky and laugh and dance and sing for I am who he created me to be, this day.


Hello, 32...  I'm so glad to meet you. 

How God Selects the Mother of a Special Needs Child

Wanted to share this short story by Erma Bombeck that really encourages my heart.   I think it could just as easily be titled, "How God Selects a Mother," because we all have these same struggles.

Most women become mothers by accident, some by choice, a few by social pressures, and a couple by habit. Did you ever wonder how mothers of children with special needs are chosen? Somehow I visualize God hovering over Earth selecting his instruments for propagation with great care and deliberation. As he observes, he instructs his angels to make notes in a giant ledger.

"Armstrong, Beth; son; patron saint, Matthew."

"Forrest, Marjorie; daughter; patron saint, Cecelia."

"Rudledge, Carrie; twins; patron saint.... give her Gerard. He's used to profanity."

Finally, he passes a name to an angel and smiles, "Give her a child with special needs."

The angel is curious. "Why this one, God? She's so happy."

"Exactly," smiles God. "Could I give a child with special needs to a mother who does not know laughter? That would be cruel."

"But has she patience?" asks the angel.

"I don't want her to have too much patience or she will drown in a sea of self-pity and despair. Once the shock and resentment wears off, she'll handle it. I watched her today. She has that feeling of self and independence that is so rare and necessary in a mother.  You see, the child I am going to give her has her own world.  She'll have to teach the child to live in her world and that's not going to be easy."

"But, Lord, I don't think she even believes in you."

God smiles. "No matter. I can fix that. This one is perfect. She has just enough selfishness."

The angel gasps, "Selfishness? Is that a virtue?"

God nods. "If she can't seperate herself from the child occasionally, she'll never survive. Yes, here is a woman I will bless with less then perfect. She doesn't realize it yet, but she is to be envied. I will permit her to see clearly the things I see...ignorance, cruelty, prejudice...and allow her to rise above them. She will never be alone. I will be at her side every minute of every day of her life because she is doing my work as surely as she is here by my side."

"And what about her patron saint?" asks the angel, his pen poised in midair.

God smiles. "A mirror will suffice."

Was blind, but now I see.

So, for some reason, I have sung Amazing Grace more in the past several weeks than I have in the past several years.  And, no, I haven't been to any funerals.  A good friend of mine once shared after hearing a message on being offended repeatedly that once you've heard it three times, you start to realize that God must be trying to get through to you.  And if you're having a good day, you start to pay attention.

So I attempted to pay more attention.  The line, "Was blind, but now I see,"  was shouting at me.  Of course it's talking about finally seeing God's grace, his goodness, his love.  Finally waking up to the truth of his love for us.  Finally entering into salvation.

But for me, for now...  I feel like my eyes have been suddenly opened in a thousand new and tiny ways.  What is it that I was blind to before?  What is this new world that I am seeing?

I am seeing people.  And when I see them, I am seeing incredible beings, unique in every way, each one so special and so dear to the heart of God.  I am finally seeing the truth that He loves each one, regardless of their appearance, abilities, or achievements.  I am not talking about seeing the homeless man on the street or a disabled person in a grocery store and suddenly glimpsing God's heart for them, although that has happened.  I am seeing my generous, caring friends, who have willingly walked through the valley with me this year.  I am seeing my strong, thoughtful husband, who has surprised me with his steadfastness although it should have been exactly what I expected.  I am seeing my precocious, sensitive seven-year-old.  I am seeing my fiery, reckless two-year-old.  I am seeing my sweet, special baby girl in a way I never knew was possible.

The reality is that I  am beginning to look in the mirror and see me.  I have spent so many years blind to my own value.  I have believed that when I lose weight, become disciplined, serve better, love more, offer wisdom, only then will I finally be worthy of God's lavish love for me.  Over the years, God has tried to open my eyes to the fact that his love, his grace, his mercy can never be earned.  I have listened for a while, from time-to-time, but then slipped back into my old habits.  My vision was always clouded.  I glanced in the mirror, but my constant expectation for more from myself blinded me from seeing something beautiful.   Me.

Not the me I hope to be one day, or the person I am becoming.  Just the flawed, imperfect, impulsive, scratchy, icky version of myself.  God loves me.  And, suddenly, I can see it.

I realize that this is Sunday School 101.  That somewhere along the way, I should have figured this one out before now.  But it is as though I literally could not see before what is crystal clear to me now.  I think of the story of the man born blind in John 9.  He was blind from birth, he could not see.  Then Jesus showed up and spit in the dirt, wiped mud in his eye, and sent him to wash it out.  The man rejoiced, and when he was questioned about how his healing came to be, he responds, "All I know is I was blind, and now I see!  All I know is he healed me!"

All I know is I was blind, and now I see! Jesus loves me enough to keep showing me, over and over again, how precious I am to him.  He keeps healing my vision in new and different ways, to bring me a clearer picture of who I am in his sight.  Sometimes that healing comes by getting mud wiped in my eyes.  Sometimes life gets dirty.  Sometimes things don't make sense.  And often it is when we are willing to embrace the parts that don't make sense to us that our eyes are opened to a new and clearer vision of truth and reality.

Maybe having a baby with Down syndrome feels a bit like getting mud wiped in your eye.  It felt at first like a smear on my vision of a perfect life.  Then Jesus invited me to wash.  Wash in the water of the word and his promises.  Soak in his love for me and his comfort.  Bathe in the encouragement of my family and friends.  Cleanse myself with tears of joy over this incredibly precious, beautiful little girl.  Wash away the perception, the worry, the fear and what is left?  Me, standing here, squinting a little, and blinking my eyes in disbelief at the incredible view. 

Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, That saved a wretch like me.

I once was lost but now am found, Was blind, but now I see. 

                                                                                               - John Newton