The house has been more quiet this week. Johnnie is back in school two days a week, and our oldest son attends co-op two other days in the week. So, the energy level is down significantly right now! I’ve had some time to reflect on the past six months in the quiet moments of this week. What a crazy year! To say there have been many unexpected things is a gross understatement.
When we first realized that schools may suspend in-person learning last spring, I was more than a little nervous about what that would look like in our home. We’ve always homeschooled our three oldest, but bringing Jonathan into the daily mix is a completely different dynamic. He demands attention! Literally!!
For safety purposes alone, we need to have eyes and ears on him almost constantly. He loves for people to play with him all hours of the day. He has one volume–LOUD! I don’t always get the opportunity to show our other children undivided attention if there isn’t another outlet for our little man. Not to mention, Jonathan shows more patience and self-control when he is around others and they ask that he perform certain academic or therapy tasks. How would he respond to me directing his education? To all the changes? All of these thoughts started rambling around in my head simultaneously.
Out of an abundance of caution for Jonathan, we’ve all been together at home most of the last six months (minus work). Looking back, I’ve learned some valuable things and been reminded of a thing or two along the way.
- Jonathan is capable of so much more than I ever dreamed possible. I don’t know that I’ve ever had expectations for him, other than maximize everything that God has given him. He learns at his pace, on his own trajectory. Watching him grow and learn with his classwork and respond to tele therapy was awe-inspiring. Does he love it? No. Is there quite a bit of song and dance involved? Yes. Does he have a great attention span? No. Is it always done with a certain level of negotiation? Yes. But he is capable.
- We have a front row seats to the miraculous! All that being said, with each lyric he memorizes, each tune he sings, each letter he memorizes, each sound he blends together, each number he counts, each coin he drops into a small jar, each memory he recalls, each time he pulls his body weight across the floor, each time he sits balanced with no support, each time he catches a ball, each spin of his wheels, each hug he gives–these are ALL the daily unfolding of a miracle. His brain is black on every single scan we’ve ever had. His brain matter is pushed back and crazy. His pathways are broken. His mind seizes up on him. He takes medicine that suppresses and keeps him tired. And yet, God gives growth. In His time and in His way. I sit in wonder.
- My girls are the best helpers in the world and give far beyond themselves, with little complaint. It takes all of us to raise Johnnie. The girls love him without restraint and jump in to help without us saying a word. I’m sure there are days that each of our older children wish things were different. But God gave them a different lens through which they observe the world. When I stop to observe the ways that God is using them, gratitude wells up in my heart.
- I am still a sinner, daily in need of Him. If you don’t believe me, just ask our children! Our house sees it all. There are very hard days. Reality hits. Emotions surface. Frustration abounds. Tempers flare. Feelings are hurt. Objects fly across the room. Voices yell. Tears abound. I’m so thankful that the Lord’s mercies are new every morning (Lamentations 3:23 ESV). I’m so thankful that He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins (1 John 1:9 ESV). I’m so thankful that His power is made perfect in weakness (2 Corinthians 12:9 ESV). We are quick to apologize and talk, even Johnnie who does not fully comprehend:)
- Jesus is enough, and we need the Body of Christ! These seemingly contrary truths stand side by side. We’ve lived on the other side of the world on the edge of a desert in the middle of nowhere. We’ve also lived the last six months in relative isolation, in a city full of people. Regardless of your circumstances, He is enough. He’s given us His Word. He left us His Spirit, our Helper. With these two things, the Lord ministers deeply to our souls when humans or circumstances fail us. That being said, He also established His Church and gives us very clear truths on caring for and loving one another. When His body lives in unity with one another and loves one another deeply, we display His glory for all to see. Though it scares me how comfortable I am living in relative isolation (think hermit!), I also know that He made us for community. The New Testament is full of beautiful passages that guide us in living together–loving, submitting, forgiving, honoring, teaching, exhorting, encouraging, helping, rejoicing. Though we are many members, we are ONE Body (1 Corinthians 12:12 ESV). He designed us to need one another too! And don’t for a second think monochromatic. The Body is made up of all shades of color from every nation, tribe, and tongue. It is beautiful!
My list could go on for days. Maybe I’ve had too much time to think?! I’m not certain we will ever make sense out of the craziness of 2020. But I am thankful for the things that I have learned and remembered. And I so often think about my fellow friends that I know are caring for their children with disabilities, my fellow Americans who have been profoundly affected mentally, emotionally, and financially by the circumstances in our country, my fellow brothers and sisters around the world who are facing horrific persecution at the hands of family, communities, and governments.
Johnnie reminds me of things like simple faith, genuine love, dependance on one another, God’s absolute control over all things. May he use the example of one child to encourage your heart today.
A Thousand Little Deaths 