Acceptance

If you are hoping that I will start deciphering my word salad today, I apologize for the disappointment. My salad is still salad but I am listening, praying , and waiting as I seek the truth and the lessons God has for me. I promise to share as a hear from Him.

When I started this blog I knew that sometimes I would need to write about raising three children with disabilities. I know I need to write about our experiences not only for my own therapeutic release, but because there are many of you that need to know you are not alone, and perhaps a greater number of you that truly want to understand what our “normal” consists of. There are a million things to be said on this topic, but today I think I’ll just share with you about a recent Sunday, a decision I made, the guilt that ensued, and the peace that followed.

Last Sunday I found myself having one of THOSE days. The kind of day that feels totally overwhelming. The kind of day that no matter how hard I tried, I kept running into the hurdles of my children’s particular quirks and challenges. Sometimes we can leap right over the hurdles (or maybe walk around them) and even if we are a bit slower than the rest, we can keep running the race. Not so much last Sunday. I guess if I’m honest, I didn’t even run into the hurdles. I took a look ahead at the evening, saw all of the hurdles standing there, immovable, and I decided to sit on the sidelines.

Here is what was on the agenda for the day:

• Perfecto left that morning to spend 3 days at the deer lease.
• The 3 children spent he night with my folks so they were meeting me at church.
• I was on “work” duty at church promoting an upcoming event for the preschool.
• Sunday afternoon chores/homework/meal planning for Thanksgiving week.
• Sunday afternoon also mentally prepare for two challenging days on the work front.
• Sunday evening:
  • Small Group Friendsgiving (family style potluck with the college students that normally provide childcare)
  • Youth Group Intersection followed by Girls vs. Guys Volleyball Game and dinner

Now let me give you that list again with my internal thoughts added…

• Perfecto left that morning to spend 3 days at the deer lease. Truth be told, I kind of spaced the fact that he was leaving town for three days. It made me sad and it also irritated me because that meant I was in charge of and responsible for all the things while he was away with friends in his happy place. 
• The 3 children spent the night with my folks so they were meeting me at church. Praise Jesus, I love my parents! Perfecto and I got a day and night kid free on Saturday. It was fantastic.
• I was on “work” duty at church promoting an upcoming event for the preschool. Oh yeah, I need to promote that event and man the ticket table before and after class and worship service. Oh, wait, Perfecto won’t be there. Poop. That means I’m not free to do my job while he manages the kids. Instead I get to do my job while managing the kids. At least they are older now so it shouldn’t be too bad. Crap, they don’t know I have to be on work duty though so they are going to be less than pleased. Unexpected changes to the routine never go well. Oh well, we’ll survive it.
• Sunday afternoon chores/homework/meal planning for Thanksgiving week. All. The. Things.
• Sunday afternoon also mentally prepare for two challenging days on the work front. Stretch and grow Foster. No one said this job was going to be easy. Program will go great, the parents will love it. Don’t forget all that super important paperwork that needs to be turned in to Licensing by the end of the day. As for meeting day, just do your best, be honest, and model servant leadership. Deep breaths. You can do this. And don’t forget to do payroll.
• Sunday evening:
  • Small Group Friendsgiving (family style potluck with the college students that normally provide childcare) Oh yeah. I have no food to take. That means I need to go to the store. When am I going to to have time to go to the store?!?! Oy, and what in the world is The Growler even going to eat at this event? Chips? Eye roll. She is going to, well, growl about it too. She doesn’t even hang out with the other kids because she is older than all of them and the chaos/noise level bothers her. She will be glued to me the whole time. No adult interaction for me.
  • Youth Group Intersection followed by Girls vs. Guys Volleyball Game and dinner Seriously? After surviving Friendsgiving I am supposed to then join the youth group in the gym for a volleyball game that The Gaminator won’t participate in because an athlete he is not, The Growler won’t be allowed to participate in because she isn’t old enough which will totally make her GROWL, and then stay around for dinner that will be food not a single one of my children will eat. All of this without Perfecto. All the things. All the emotions. All the stimming that will happen. All the moments of me not actually feeling free to engage in conversation with other adults because I will be far too busy trying to get The Gaminator to participate in SOME way, The Growler to understand that this event isn’t for her just yet but next year she will be all in, and hoping that Distracto eats something besides just bread – and please Lord, let there be no cornmeal on the breadsticks so she can at least eat that. NOPE. I’m out. I’m not putting myself through this. Sorry, Distracto, I know you really really want to go, but I just can’t do it. I just can’t go and endure the not normalcy of our experience. I don’t have it in me tonight. Not on my own. Not without Perfecto to help buffer the awkwardness. I can not be all the things to all the people with all the expectations tonight. I’m not Jesus. We’re staying home.

So, I made the call. We were sitting this one out. Distracto was pretty salty about it. As I worked on the afternoon tasks I had waves of emotions roll over me. The biggest was guilt. There I sat with a teenager begging to go to church and I was saying no. What kind of mother does that? Also, I committed to being a fully engaged participant in our small group and now I’m bailing because it just seemed too hard. Bad group member. And gracious, aren’t I always telling the kids how important it is to try the hard things even if it seems impossible because that is how we grow? Hypocrite.

BZZZZ BZZZZ BZZZZ

In the midst of my guilt party that was heading straight towards a pity party, I got a text message from our youth minister checking to see if there was anything he could get for The Gaminator at Fazoli’s for dinner that night since the main meal would not be gluten free. He was reaching out to make sure a need we have was met. That tiny action snapped me right out of my funk. I responded quickly with a huge thank you and let him know that we weren’t going to be there.

And then came the peace.

No, my family doesn’t work like everyone else’s. There are going to be times that we have to take a hard look at things, even the really good things, and determine if they are the best and right things for our family. Sometimes that means a member of the family will be unhappy. Sometimes it will mean not doing things that we really want to do. For last Sunday, with those circumstances, the best and right thing for us was to stay home. The hurdles were too big for me. AND THAT IS OK.

But Sarah, you could have asked for help! Oh yes, that voice screams in my head too. But really, there was no help for this one. Too many of the details simply could not be changed. And I did get help. That little text message from the youth minister helped me more than he may ever know. I’m sure he thinks it was a text about food, but what it felt like was acceptance. It was someone saying, “Hey, I know this is an issue for your family. We want you here. How can we make this happen?” That reminder that we are in fact accepted and loved just the way we are freed me from the mountain of guilt and allowed me to spend  the evening comfortable with my decision, having quality time with the salty teenager, and making sure we were all physically, mentally, and emotionally ready for the week.

There is such rest in acceptance.

( I do believe those words are in my salad…)