Comfort and courage for me as a parent of a child with disabilities


The trailer is loaded with tents, gas bottles, sleeping bags, and cooler bags. The kids are playing, excited about hiking, roasting marshmallows over the fire, and the fun of a camping trip just for dad and his friends. The eye shifts from the daughter’s smile as they leave for camp to the son’s tears. He can’t go camping. This is a disability.

“With ability comes responsibility” is what I often say to able-bodied children when they ask me why I don’t help them get dressed. But with a disability, you are reminded daily of your helplessness and loss.

Having a disability means losing your abilities and being reminded of your loss every day.

Admit it: failure is a loss

We all experience loss in this life, but loss was not part of God’s original creation before the Fall. I often hear the phrase “celebrate and embrace disability.” I feel like our world is moving from the extreme of trying to hide certain “types” of people in society to one that seeks not only to embrace disability but to celebrate it.

From my perspective, blessing and disability cannot go side by side. Romans 8 reminds us that “the whole creation groans in the pains of birth until now.” Disability is a stark reminder of the fall. Our bodies groan and don’t function as they should. The splints on the floor, the feeding tubes on the counter, and the medical bills that must be paid are evidence of this.

Every day we see the reality of a broken and fallen world. The school years we never pass, the days cheering on the sidelines of the playground that never end. As the years go by, so do the losses we experience for us and our children.

God, in his great mercy and grace, invites us to mourn.

Turn Your Weary Face to God

That’s why the writers of the Bible often mourn rather than rejoice over loss. Some days the burden and grief are overwhelming. God feels far away. Questions arise: Does God watch? Does God care?

In Psalm 40, David fell into a pit of destruction, a mire. He cried out to the Lord from the pit and waited patiently for him. God, in His great mercy and grace, invites us to lament. He welcomes me to bring my broken heart, the broken dreams that will never come true, my son’s injured body, and the exhaustion that sometimes just getting through the day feels like. He wants us to share our mire experiences with Him.

Wash your face and embrace your life

John Piper said something very helpful: “Sometimes, shed a deep tear over the life you wanted. Mourn what you’ve lost, and then wash your face. Trust God. And accept the life you have.” This is not just an encouragement to “pick up yourselves and carry on.” Nothing at all. It’s about offering your dreams and desires deeply and openly before the Lord, with the certainty that He is a good God, trusting that He is a God you can trust and that He really does know best.

I need to wash my face, accept the life that is in front of me, and move towards trusting God.

Disability brings to the fore the harshness of our broken humanity. I cannot bless it, but by trusting in God, the Creator of heaven and earth, I can embrace it and embrace this life He has chosen for my family and my child with a disability. I need to wash my face and move in the direction of trusting God by accepting the life that is before me.

The truth washes away the mud

In Psalm 40:2, David is reminded of God’s faithfulness toward him as he once again finds himself in the mire. He also says, “My heart is failing,” and later in Psalm 40:17, “I am poor and in need.” But throughout, David is speaking the truth despite what he is going through. And when he does, the Lord lifts him up out of the pit, sets him on a rock, and puts a new song in his mouth. I love the hope this gives me. The obstacles will always be there, but the pit doesn’t have to be.

The truth about God in Psalm 40 helps wash the mud out of my eyes so I can trust Him through realities that try to pull me into a pit. David says the Lord drew near to him and “…heeded my cry” (Psalm 40:1). I need to remember that the Lord is with me, hears me, and I am not alone, nor are my children. Having a disability can make me feel so alone, but I am never alone. My Savior is with me every day. Truth that washes away the muddy mess.

The truth about facing obstacles head on

As the days and years go by, we may be tempted to give up and say, “Lord, I’m done. It’s too hard, I’m too tired, I’m too scared.” Sure, it’s in my own strength, but God says His love and faithfulness will protect me (Psalm 40:11). It is God who sustains us day by day.

Later in the psalm, the writer of Psalm 94 says that it was the Lord’s unfailing love that sustained him when his foot was about to slip. The temptation of the hole is strong, but I trust that the Lord will comfort my weakening heart. With obstacles, there are so many unpredictable things. When will the next meltdown be? When will the next hospitalization or medical procedure be? The Lord will establish my feet firmly on the rock. The Lord says that although we don’t know what tomorrow will bring, we can be sure of His love and faithfulness.

Psalm 40:3 promises me hope beyond just a pretty face: “The Lord has put a new song in my mouth.” There is joy today, but there is no more tears or pain, but rather joy in pure wholeness (Revelation 21). He has purchased our salvation (Psalm 40:10). I can look to the cross and hold my shattered dreams and my son’s broken body and know that wholeness and restoration will come.

I can gaze upon the cross and embrace my shattered dreams…and know that wholeness and restoration will come.

I’m stuck in the mud with you

God also gives us the gift of community, and it is through this grace that we often experience His love and closeness. I remember when I was a little kid it was too hard to leave the house. Mommy and baby or kid groups were not an option, and going out was limited to going to the doctor or therapist. I am so grateful for friends who had insight.

We had regular visits, a group of moms from church came to visit us, and we met at venues that catered to our children’s needs. We were not alone. We really appreciated when people offered to help with childcare or Sunday school so we could hear the sermon. We also had a group of friends who took turns sitting outside with our children when they couldn’t stand the service. We really appreciated when friends asked about other children and were attentive to their needs, and even watched over our son with a disability so he could have one-on-one time with other children.

Not what if, but if I get stuck again

We may be on level ground now, but it’s not a question of if we’ll sink back into the mud again, but when. When that happens to David, and it happens to me, the greatest gift a community can offer is truth, like a windshield wiper washing away the driving rain that distorts our view of reality.

The reality is that God loves me, is with me, and is my Savior, and I have hope today and every day. Truth is the rock on which I can stand firmly in this ever-changing, ever-uncertain world of obstacles. If I am going to face the obstacles head-on, I need the help of community to help me mourn my losses, wash away the mud that keeps me stuck, and continue to rely on Jesus.



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