"Heavenly Father only gives you what you can handle."
As a mom of a complex child this phrase has been uttered to me many times with a gentle smile. At first you want to believe that Heavenly Father hand-picked you for a rewarding task.
This life of inescapable worry, beeping machines, and constant therapy.
Tears in the car after an appointment, sobbing in the shower after a bad day, and grief over the child you dreamed of. In the beginning when it seemed that we were drowning in appointments and uncovering new “gifts” that our son’s 'undiagnosed' diagnosis handed us each day, I kept thinking just exactly who does Heavenly Father think I am??
I’m not standing here indestructible wearing a cape; I am standing here with shaking knees swimming in uncertainty. As if Bridger doesn't have enough 'medically' to deal with, we continue to have more unfold. A recent sleep study unveiled he has central sleep apnea. On top of that, he had some new x-rays completed on his hips and spinal cord. The results? He has neuromuscular hip displasia and will most likely need hip surgery in the near future. The base of his spinal cord is starting to curve, showing signs he will most likely need back surgery as well. Despite all this.....
Something happens:
You can handle it.
You DO handle it.
You wake up.
You show up.
You go to appointment after appointment and run in the longest marathon of your life.
You incorporate therapy into everyday play.
You decide to sell your house and and make plans to build a home where your child has an environment where they will thrive.
You find JOY.
Expectations are thrown out the window and celebrations happen daily.
Now don’t get me wrong, we aren’t all smiles at our house, there are still plenty of tears and occasional urges to kick the door.
But more than anything, we are thankful.
We are the lucky ones.
Today we are handling it, whether God gave it to us on purpose or not.
Today.
Tomorrow.
We will wake up and show up.
We will do what we have to do, shaking knees and all.
Our grief may be greater but so are our joys.
The other day I almost couldn’t contain my tears when his physical therapist said he purposefully put a toy back into a jar!
I simply can’t explain the feeling of pride and joy.
Imagine crying simply because your child has the ability to put an object inside a jar.
Sounds so simple but for him it’s not.
Our son has altered our perspective.
He is making us into a better family.
I don’t know if Heavenly Father really only gives you things He knows you can handle.
I don’t know if He has a measuring tape and hands out challenge after challenge based on your measurement of strength?
I don’t know if He saw something in us.
I don’t know if that phrase is true, but I do know that when we look at our son we see his strength and he sees ours
He sees that we will never give up.
He sees the love in our eyes.
He knows.
