Groundhog Day

(Most of this difficult-to-tell story is for folks who have never lived with a severely disabled child.  The ending, however, is for those who have...)

My son Jesse has severe autism.  Often he and I walk through the local grocery store to buy two of his favorite comfort foods:  a large tub of strawberry yogurt and a pie, any kind of pie.  That’s all we usually have time for.  That’s all of the time he wants to allow.  Then it is back into the safety of our van.  My hope is that we can reach home before he demands the pie in a fit of frustration. Jesse is not a patient person. It is so difficult to drive when there is an enraged person in the vehicle rapping his knuckles against his head, or worse, biting on his wrist.  

As we approach the store's check out area, there is a small girl sitting in the child seat of a grocery cart.  Jesse and I are several yards away but the 18 month old already sees us coming.  The young one isn’t looking at me.  She is staring at Jesse as if he were Frankenstein lumbering along.  The closer we get, the larger  the girl’s eyes grow.  Curiosity has turned into discomfort.  When we get close, the child looks to “mom” for help.  Now she is afraid.

None of the adults standing nearby are noticing.  Somehow, this very young child recognizes that something is very different about my son.  At one or two years of age, the child has an acute awareness of her environment and can discriminate between common and uncommon.  My son, unlike the small child, is quite unaware.  Jesse just wants to eat apple pie. I want to cry. 

Please understand that this shopping trip did not just take place in the last few days.  My son is 31 years old and this story has repeated itself several times each year throughout his life.  It has happened with me.  It has happened with my wife.  It always catches us off guard.  My wife and I react the same way each time.  We begin to grieve our loss all over again!  In this innocent, but cruel encounter, we are reminded that there was a death, of many kinds, in the family on December 23, 1980. 

The well-studied theory of grief by Elisabeth Kubler-Ross has 5 stages.  They are denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance.  To those who are unfamiliar with people of disabilities, it would seem logical that there would be a limited amount of grief since the disabled person survived birth and is reasonably healthy. 

On the contrary, the grieving process of a parent of a special needs child is active and continuous.  It is much like the movie Groundhog Day where the character Phil Conners, played by Bill Murray, relives the same day over and over again without a change in the outcome. Parents of the disabled are challenged with re-experiencing their loss at every missed milestone of childhood development.  Sometimes, in a guilty jealousy, parents grieve their loss in the moment of another child's accomplishment.

Parents, grandparents and 24/7 caregivers of the disabled awaken to their version of February 2nd every morning.  Like Phil Conners, they may be asking:  "How do I possibly get through to February 3rd?"  In the movie, we watch Phil uproariously experience four of the five stages of grief.  We laugh at his denials.  We guffaw at his slapstick anger.  We giggle at his self-bargaining.   We chuckle at his antics of depression.  Phil breaks the cycle (some say after 10,000 groundhog days) when he finds love, accepts his day and chooses to help the people around him.  His redemptive story is complete. 

Most parents of special needs children, are not laughing at the movie in which we find ourselves starring. There is redemption for us, however!  Our redemptive story is complete when we accept the extraordinary gift we have been given.  The Heavenly Father has added a special needs person to our family.  Your child, my Jesse, has a complete soul and vibrant spirit TODAY!  He or she is spiritually WHOLE right now!   I believe that God has built special needs children in a way that they are ready to worship.  It does not matter what the disability they experience.  (Now do you see the reason behind the Worship For All Foundation?) 

The Heavenly Father sees no weakness, no speech problems, no developmental delays, no distant stares and no handicaps in these children.  Why?  Because He sees our children now as we will see them in heaven.  For all of eternity, our disabled children are COMPLETE and PERFECT in every way.  In heaven, there is no Groundhog Day and no one looks or walks like Frankenstein.
 
I think we need God's distinctive viewpoint to get through each day, don't you?  It takes faith to accomplish it.  Yes, it takes much faith.  I say go get more faith.  Go where?  Go wherever you can hear the Gospel of Jesus Christ and interact with His people. I am sure that is how, and that is where, faith is found.  

"Worship For All" is so important.  Children and families of Autism, Down Syndrome, Cerebral Palsy, Asperger Syndrome, Bipolar Disorders, Fragile X and other disabilities need a place to worship and fellowship.  Won't you go prepare a place for them to receive faith at your church?  It is a matter of life and faith for all of us!  Contact the Worship For All Foundation. We can help your church get started today!


This is the daily "Worship for All" blog. It has a heavenly ending!


Next up:   "My 'Empty Tomb' Moment"