Children are a Gift from the Lord

I have had writing this post on my to-do list for about 3 months now. It's kind of interesting that it's today, of all days, that I'm finally getting to it.

Today is Ben's birthday, which is day that often makes me a bit melancholy, since I can't help but remember the traumatic events of that day. What should have been a happy day instead almost ended up being the day that both Ben and I died. It also signaled a whole new direction for our family. But I always struggle with feeling that I should feel happy (and I do) because Ben is still here and very much alive. I'm actually doing pretty well on this birthday - those sad feelings are lurking around my heart, but they're pretty squashed down.

This spring in my special needs moms group we had a speaker by the name of Jolene Philo. She wrote a book entitled, "A Different Dream for my Child." She actually ended up interviewing me about Ben for her second book. I bought the book in May, but didn't read it until August. It's excellent - devotionals for parents dealing with any type of a-typical situations with their children. She had one chapter that really grabbed me by the throat and I have not gotten it out of my mind.

She wrote about how the Bible tells us that children are a "gift from the Lord." Period.

Wow.

I guess it got to me because while there has never been any doubt that I love Ben, I have often thought, though, that I got the "short end" of the stick when he was born. I look around and I see that my friends got these beautiful, healthy, well-behaved children - great gifts. And I got the broken one.

But that's not what the Bible teaches. It simply tells us that children are a gift. If I was on the ball this morning I'd go hunt up the reference for the verse, but I'm not. But it's in there. So that means that ALL children are considered to be a special gift from the Lord, even those that are not whole in body or mind.

Like I said, it really struck me. It was not new information, but for the first time, I really absorbed it. It's so easy to say, "Oh yes, my child is a gift!" But he doesn't feel like a gift when I've had to go to 13 doctors and therapy appointments in one week. He doesn't feel like a gift when he's arguing and yelling at me. I definitely don't feel like he's a gift when he's throwing a tantrum, jumping and screaming, because he didn't' get his way. It doesn't feel like a gift when I am combing his hair - and having to reach up to do it because he's taller than me. I don't feel blessed when I am putting his deodorant on him or explaining for the umpteenth time why it's important to check before leaving the bathroom to make sure our underwear is tucked inside our pants. It doesn't feel like a gift when I worry that I may and probably will die before him and not knowing who will be there to take care of him in his latter years. What kind of gift is that?

But yet, he is a child. And he was given to me. And, so, he is my gift.

Happy Birthday, Ben!