I've been posting pictures on my Facebook page. One of them in particular reminded me of having one of those days. You know, when reality slides in and bites you. Most of the time, I refuse to visit that place, because it drags me backward and causes me to sink into a place of deep sadness. Ever have times like that?
Adam uses his wheelchair whenever he doesn't have his orthotics(leg braces) on. He really can't walk without them. This day, we were outside and he needed his chair. The kids had been playing for a while, and Adam got tired and pulled over to a shady spot under a maple tree, near the end of the driveway. He sat there for a few minutes, watching the cars go by. I sat watching him, and thinking over the years of his life, and the milestones he had made. And the milestones he never made. That's where the sadness struck. He'll never skateboard down the block with friends. He'll never walk to the McDonald's around the corner. He will never drive a car. Friends don't call to ask him if he wants to hang out.
It's hard watching kids who are the same age as him; they're going to college and graduating. They're dating and getting engaged. They're driving and talking excitedly about the next car they're going to buy. And lots of other things that he will never do. I get so mad at myself whenever I let this take hold. It makes me cry and I feel awful. Paul and I can't even look at each other when we have this happen at the same time. It just hurts too much.
Well, that was depressing, wasn't it? But here's our usual reality.
Adam is one of the happiest people I know. He is also one of the most loving. In all the years of surgeries, endoscopies, and countless CT scans and medical procedures, Adam always comes up smiling when it's done. He never holds a grudge against the ones who have hurt him, or against me for subjecting him to all these many things. He is truly forgiving. I learn so much from him.
He also has a wonderful relationship with God. I think Adam knows God in ways that I can only imagine. I believe this because when he's able, he tells me what he knows and what he's seen.(Adam has expressive aphasia; which means he often cannot speak even though he knows what he wants to say.) He encourages others from time to time by praying for them or just blessing them by yelling out "JESUS,JESUS." and waving his hands towards them. How do I know it blesses someone else? Because they tell me. And the first time it happens, it blows them away. They always say something like "He really just blessed me. I mean REALLY. How does he do that?" Or, "I didn't know Adam could do that. I really felt the presence of the Lord." Amazing. God is so good. It used to be just me that got to see and understand what the Father is doing in Adam; it seems that now He is letting others in on His secret.
So, today is just one of those days too. But it's one of those days when I'm truly thankful for all that I have. Family, home, health, and Adam. There were times when we weren't so sure that he would still be here with us. I'm so glad that he is.
Father,please bless my readers today. Meet their needs according to your glorious riches in Christ Jesus. Comfort those who mourn, encourage those who are disheartened, laugh with those who are rejoicing, and dance with the dancers! Thank you. I ask all this in Jesus' strong name.
You probably can't see this but the bag hanging on the back of the chair says "Life is Good". It truly is.
Adam uses his wheelchair whenever he doesn't have his orthotics(leg braces) on. He really can't walk without them. This day, we were outside and he needed his chair. The kids had been playing for a while, and Adam got tired and pulled over to a shady spot under a maple tree, near the end of the driveway. He sat there for a few minutes, watching the cars go by. I sat watching him, and thinking over the years of his life, and the milestones he had made. And the milestones he never made. That's where the sadness struck. He'll never skateboard down the block with friends. He'll never walk to the McDonald's around the corner. He will never drive a car. Friends don't call to ask him if he wants to hang out.
It's hard watching kids who are the same age as him; they're going to college and graduating. They're dating and getting engaged. They're driving and talking excitedly about the next car they're going to buy. And lots of other things that he will never do. I get so mad at myself whenever I let this take hold. It makes me cry and I feel awful. Paul and I can't even look at each other when we have this happen at the same time. It just hurts too much.
Well, that was depressing, wasn't it? But here's our usual reality.
Adam is one of the happiest people I know. He is also one of the most loving. In all the years of surgeries, endoscopies, and countless CT scans and medical procedures, Adam always comes up smiling when it's done. He never holds a grudge against the ones who have hurt him, or against me for subjecting him to all these many things. He is truly forgiving. I learn so much from him.
He also has a wonderful relationship with God. I think Adam knows God in ways that I can only imagine. I believe this because when he's able, he tells me what he knows and what he's seen.(Adam has expressive aphasia; which means he often cannot speak even though he knows what he wants to say.) He encourages others from time to time by praying for them or just blessing them by yelling out "JESUS,JESUS." and waving his hands towards them. How do I know it blesses someone else? Because they tell me. And the first time it happens, it blows them away. They always say something like "He really just blessed me. I mean REALLY. How does he do that?" Or, "I didn't know Adam could do that. I really felt the presence of the Lord." Amazing. God is so good. It used to be just me that got to see and understand what the Father is doing in Adam; it seems that now He is letting others in on His secret.
So, today is just one of those days too. But it's one of those days when I'm truly thankful for all that I have. Family, home, health, and Adam. There were times when we weren't so sure that he would still be here with us. I'm so glad that he is.
You probably can't see this but the bag hanging on the back of the chair says "Life is Good". It truly is.
