The door opens and the light spills into the dark room. I was sitting in an observation room feeding my four-month old baby girl while watching my boy of blonde hair and blue eyes interact with the woman who see’s the very best in him…his Caseworker. By the look on her face I can see that it’s over again and we can go no further. It’s our second attempt to complete Sunny’s Developmental Assessment and again it stays incomplete. I re-enter the room where I left my little boy and sit on the seat provided, his Caseworker sits directly across from me. We talk about a new appointment and then she say’s tactfully but directly “I need to prepare you for the worst. I need to give this to you in small bites so you can handle it when I write up the formal report” I feel the tears in the back of my eyes sting, they make their way to my cheek and fall.
I swallow hard and mutter a question looking for clarity. A question that I don’t want ‘Yes’ to but get it anyway. I apologise for my emotion and tell her that I’m constantly willing myself to be strong, that I’m always looking for the optimistic side of the gift that was given to me in the shape of a son but my mother’s heart is feeling fractured and raw. I bleed with loss, and “what if’s” as I stare down the barrel of the future.”
I breathe deeply and oxygen floods my lungs. Was I not just reading hours earlier that God is good and his faithful love endures forever? That he carved the earth and made everything in it yet is so gentle and intimate that he sees me in my utter weakness and is able to provide a supernatural strength and joy that is inexpressible. That he leans in and meets me in my time of need. My sons intellectual disability hasn’t shocked him or caught him off guard and neither has your situation.
I explain to Sunny’s Caseworker that my vision for my little boys life is big, that the Pastor I call husband and I see it as a success one day if he cleans tables at Mc Donald’s or stands up in court as a Lawyer, both have purpose and both are a big vision. I can’t help but look her in the eyes and say “Psalm 139 says that Sunny is fearfully and wonderfully made and God has a big plan for him regardless of today.” She smiles and understands, she too is a woman of faith.
We say our goodbye’s and enter the lift to take us to level 1 for that is the main entrance to the building. The ride is filled with emotion for my little 4 year old boy as he has been stretched and anxiety reveals itself with screaming and crying. We exit the lift and I see his need for his mama’s embrace, we sit tangled on the cold floor as I rock him to a state of calm.
His journey continues much the same as yours, it has its highs and lows but during it all I must remember that I need to be still and know who God is. Why? Well, things have a completely different focus when God is in control