.Dear Special Needs Mom.

I see you. Yes, you, the tired, worn out mom, the one who has held onto hope and had it snatched from your palm more times than you can count. The mom who has been to countless specialists with her child, and learned to speak the language of special needs - the big words that blanket a diagnosis but that could never contain the absolute delight and wonder that is your child. I see you sitting up late at night, hunched over your laptop, fingers tapping over the keys, your eyes searching and reading - your researching this life your child has been handed. I see you pour over new tools and therapies. I know that you know that you are your child's best advocate, and how essential every piece of the research puzzle is. I see the searing tears as you read yet another description and can check down through everything for your child - another reminder that this diagnosis is real. I see the moment that you release denial and how beautiful and awful it is for you. Mom, I see what you typed into that search bar, I see when you questioned why this happened to your child, and I see you blink back tears as you wonder again if you had done something wrong, if somehow you had brought this on your baby.

Mom, I see the questions that you have that never get answered. I see the anger, and the heart break behind the plastic smile that you bravely put on - so that others won't feel weird around you. I see the days where you are just surviving - just a series of motions to get through until bedtime, and I see the pain and the guilt you feel for those days of just making it through. I see the way you look at your other children and worry that they no longer get enough of you. I see your whole body finally relax as you peek on your sleeping child, and know that you have made it through another day. I see that your are thoroughly exhausted in a way that you never knew was possible. I see the lines around your eyes, and bags and puffiness, and I see you see them, too, and grieve your youth and what used to be. I see how completely spent you are at the end of everyday, and yet how hard it is to find rest. I see the sleep deprivation, the nights when you stay up far too late on the computer, or just sit in front of the TV enjoying a moment of solitude, and I see you get up far too early when sleep never comes. Those mornings, when you wake up, and you realize that it is another day, and you have no idea what the day holds for you or your child - whether it be a seizure, a tantrum, a first word, grueling therapies, or a day like none other before, and you pray to God to give you mercy and grace for the moments to come, yes, I see that too. I see the days where you are so hard on yourself, because you become frustrated and discouraged, and you know you should be more empathetic and do better, and you feel this way sometimes even when you are giving your all, because sometimes your all just doesn't seem like enough.

I see the days when you hardly eat, because there is no time, and you are so focused on trying to figure out what your child will eat. I see the pots of coffee that you sip alone, the ones that used to be shared with friends. I see how isolation has become your company, and how you escape into facebook just to forget for a few moments the chaos around you. Friendships are complicated now, your heart hurts when you do not get invited out and the other moms do. But your heart also hurts when you do get invited out because you know that your child needs you in a way that only you can give. I see the way you miss out on activities and fun because it is easier to stay in your home, then take your child out and face the stares, the judgments, the meltdowns. I see the way that you have to exactly execute every trip to the supermarket, the library, to church. I know you calculate in your head whether it is worth it to bother doing the errands that day or can it be put off for another, when perhaps you are feeling courageous, less tired, not overwhelmed, but then those days do not come, and you suck it up and do it anyway.  I see when you do brave a restaurant, and the way you hold your shoulders tensely, just bracing yourself for a nightmare. I see you wince when your child flaps, and screams and bangs his head, and vomits because the texture of the food was not just right. And Mom, I see when you pretend not to notice the stares from the table next to you and the whispers about your parenting abilities and the fact that your child is way too big to still be strapped into a highchair. I see the way your heart stings, as you pull your mouth into a tight smile, stroke your child's head and give a kiss that you do not always feel like giving. I see the way your heart breaks for your child when the world looks on cruelly. The pain is intense and takes your breath away, and I see that.

But mom, more than anything, I see how much love you have for your child, love that oozes out of every pore of your body. I see the belly laughs that only your child can illicit, the joy that radiates from your home, because you were given this gift. I see the ways your life has changed, and the selfishness that has been weeded out, as you give of your self daily for the sake of your child. I see the way the world has taken on a different hue for you, and I see the compassion and the tenderness you radiate when your eyes meet the worn out eyes of the mom with the tantruming kid in the grocery store. Gone are the judgements of yesterday, because you have been in her shoes, and you know that while a child seems typical on the outside, the inside may tell a different story, so you breathe grace at that mom and pray for the same in return. Mom, I see how painful this journey can be, but I see your strength and I see that you truly wouldn't change it - any of it. I see you rely on Jesus in a whole new way, and I see that truly He is your strength. I see the way you cherish the little moments and celebrate things that most people will never notice. I see the way you appreciate life in a whole new way, and I see the new softness that you carry with you. I see you becoming the mom you were intended to be, and I see you making a difference in this world. I see the way people watch and notice how you live, and I see how intentional and purposeful you are with the moments gifted you.

Mom, I see you, because I am you. You are not alone, and neither am I. I am a special needs mom, and I am with you in this beautiful, agonizing, amazing, and grueling journey that we have been chosen for. And, Mom, I say in agreement with you, it's all worth it - every little piece of this journey is worth it. And today when I pray for strength and grace and mercy for me, I pray the same for you. Our lives are different than we imagined, but sometimes different is better. Be kind and patient with yourself today, take heaping spoonfuls of the grace held out for you. Don't compare yourself to her, her journey is not the same, and that is okay. What looks more fulfilling for her may only be a part of the story, focus on yours. Take care of yourself and find a place of nurture and peace and safety, just like you do for your child. Please know that your love is making a difference, even when you feel inadequate, exhausted, frustrated. When you feel weak and impatient, know that He will keep giving you the strength for the journey - you are strong enough. Love is the greatest gift you can give. Give it freely and don't sweat the other stuff.

Mom, I see you, and you are enough.

.An Open Letter to the Anonymous Guest.

This morning I found the following comment under the post announcing our desire to obey God in moving to Ethiopia.

Guest 

• 7 hours ago

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I have to say...I have quite a few questions about this move to Ethiopia. First, weren't you guys starting a church? What happened with that? You guys just brought Habi here a year ago, right? So now he's done living in America to go back to Ethiopia...and still with no education completed? I also remember you blogging that you knew it would be impossible for you to live in Africa because Jamesy has autism and has to have so many therapies available to him. Did that just stop happening? And what about CPS getting called on you guys twice for Jamesy? What will happen if he gets out in Ethiopia??

 

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I thought that perhaps these were some of the questions others were thinking, but had not addressed so boldly or at all. In an effort to continually live our life transparently I decided to answer the questions to the best of my ability right here.

Dear Anonymous Guest,

Thank you for being so concerned about our family and the welfare of our children as it pertains to our decision to be obedient to God's leading us to Ethiopia for missions. I am saddened that you felt that you had to hide behind an anonymous guest posting for your comment, but that aside I hope to answer your questions in a gracious manner.

First, let me say, that I believe Jesus calls us to live an authentic, transparent life, and that many of us Americans hide behind our supposed right to privacy. Our family has been trying to live counter-cultural for several years, having said that, even with blogging openly, and sharing a lot of our lives via facebook, there are still very intimate things and ways that the Holy Spirit works with us that never make it onto a blog or any other social media. I believe that the Holy Spirit is alive and active inside of followers of Jesus. I believe that He moves in extraordinary, supernatural ways that sometimes (actually very often - if we are truly in tune with His desires and leading) make absolutely no human sense, and I believe He does this so that God gets all of the glory in the end. Left to my own human nature, my life would look very soft, safe, and "normal". Left to my own human nature, I would not be moving to Ethiopia - heck, I NEVER would have set a piggy toe on African soil, I would not have two Ethiopian sons, I would never have left the camp ministry, and I would be chasing after the glitz and glamour of this world. Because honestly, that is a whole lot easier, safer, and less questioned.

So many times in the past five years, the leading of the Holy Spirit in our family's life has not added up. It didn't make logical sense, it was CRAZY, it didn't fit inside a box, and yet each time we have obeyed the Spirit's leading, we have been blessed beyond anything we could ever imagine. Every single time that we took a crazy leap of faith, God came through. We endured people calling us foolish, crazy, questioning our motives, our heart, our decisions. We have endured lost friendships, biting words from family, and people turning their back completely on us and our crazy-train. Although, it is still not easy, we have seen the faithfulness of God every single time and the confirmation that this is what it is to be a follower of Jesus. We have continually seen our faith look foolish....and many, many times it looks the most foolish to the people who claim to profess the same, exact faith as us.

In this point in our journey, while we do and always will count the cost of every decision we make (Luke 14:28), we no longer need to let the how get in the way of the what that God is calling us to. We have allowed the Spirit to get us into so many this is crazy and makes no human sense situations that we know without listening to His promptings and leadings we will never get to the awesome, incredible moments that only come piggy-backed to crazy. So, with that being said, I will try to specifically answer the many questions that you are concerned about for us, but please know that as I said above sometimes the leading of the Spirit just makes NO human sense.

Yes, we were planting a church. Yes, we truly believe that God called us to do that this summer, and no, we do not believe that we misunderstood the Spirit's leading us in this direction. In hindsight, as I indicated in my first post, looking back over these past months, we now can see and truly believe that this is exactly what God used to make us move away from our former church. We never would have left the church for just a different vocation, and we now know that we never would have said "yes" to moving to Ethiopia without first getting a little uncomfortable. That was not going to happen in our old church - we were comfortable there - things were easy for us, and we were able to give God so, so many excuses as to why we could not possibly move our family to Ethiopia. God, who knows us so perfectly, knew that the one thing that could draw us out of our hometown and church was the desire to plant a church and make a difference. We had fallen so in love with the simple, worship-filled, action-filled, Spirit-filled church in Ethiopia, and we were desperate to replicate that here. So, with starry-eyes we moved out of our home, away from our church and started our plant. It has been an amazing summer with these precious people, and surely God allowed this body to meet together "for such a time as this", but we are also now confident that He is not including us in the future of the church plant. That was probably the thing that we wrestled with the most, but through a myriad of circumstances - for example our church not being able to gain its non-for-profit status, and it being very  clear that there was no human reason why it could not be done, but rather God was not allowing it to happen and several other circumstances just like this, it became very, very clear that the Spirit was leading us in a different direction. Again, we do not believe that the church plant was a mistake, we believe it was part of His divine plan all gently nudging us to finally surrender to His ultimate desire for our lives. We are very thankful that God was so gentle and gracious with us in this, and that we were able to spend the summer with such an amazing group of people. We learned a lot doing the plant, and we now have a better understanding that we can never, ever replicate Ethiopia, here.

We have prayed about the impact that this move will have on all of our children, but perhaps on Habi, the most. We have sat down with him and had very serious, hard conversations with Habi. We have prayed with him, and we have given him opportunity to speak with other people about this plan. We in turn, have spoken with other familes who have adopted from Ethiopia and then returned to live there. We are not making a rash, foolish decision in any of this, although it may appear that way to those on the outside looking in. Yes, it is true that Habi has only been here in America for one year. Let me be very clear, though, we absolutely did not bring Habi home, so that he could "be in America", have American advantages and prosperity, or even to receive an education. We brought Habi here because he was a child without a family who was desperate to have a family, and we are his family. Of course education is important, and we are very thankful for the way that his private school has worked with him this year, but he will still be getting an education in Ethiopia. I am a certified educator, and I will be homeschooling our three oldest children. Habi and I work very well together, I understand his learning style, and I am able to best help him as there is no other person in this world that knows Habi like I do. Homeschooling has always been our first option for Habi, being that he comes from such a different educational background than that you find here in America, so we are very, very excited that we will be able to homeschool him in Ethiopia. America is not the answer for these children. There are wonderful privileges that come with living in America, but there also so many horrible distractions that make living for Jesus and trying to be a godly teenager here in the states very difficult. Habi loves Ethiopia and the people of Ethiopia, and He desires to share Jesus over there. He loves his culture and he is proud of his rich, beautiful heritage. America was never, ever a permanent choice for Habi. Almost weekly he would tell us how he was going to move back to Ethiopia one day to share Jesus with those he loved. It was never America or an education that he sought, but rather it was a Daddy and a Mommy who loved and cared about him, and that is permanent no matter where God leads us.

For a long time, Jim and I used Jamesy as our biggest excuse as to why we could not follow Jesus to Ethiopia. Yes, it is true that Jamesy has many special-needs. Once again we strongly believe that God divinely orchestrated our summer to erase these excuses. We have been living with Jim's parents since May, because of that all of Jamesy's therapies have completely stopped. And since May, Jamesy's vocabulary has doubly increased, his sensory seeking has slowed-down a bit, and he is over-all doing better than he ever has. We are so encouraged! It is true that Jamesy needs 24/7 monitoring and help, and we are very excited to be hiring a full-time nanny in Ethiopia to help be an extra set of hands and eyes. It is such a blessing to be able to hire an Ethiopian woman and give her a source of employment and to expose Jamesy to so much of his culture and heritage. We obviously do not know exactly how everything will work in country, but we trust that God does and that He is already paving a path. With the kind of visas that our family will be getting, we will be returning to America every six months. So twice a year (exactly what happens now), Jamesy will still be able to be seen by his specialists at the children's hospital in Philly, we will take all of his medication over with us, and we are hoping to sit down with his therapists and work out a plan that we can carry out for Jamesy in ET to continue his therapies on our own. Yes, Jamesy does like to run and escape (although CPS has only been called on us one time), and actually the house and compound that we will live in in Ethiopia will be completed fenced off and gated as well as monitored by a 24/7 guard. We are very happy to know that it will be impossible for Jamesy to escape from our home any longer! This is something we could never provide for him here in the states - nanny included. Also the culture is very, very different in Ethiopia. We will know our neighbors. Neighbors are much more like family and literally "the village" cares for each other. Jamesy will be very well taken care of and loved, as will all of our children.

I hope this answers a few of your questions and your concern for our family.