At the beginning of the year we received a questionnaire from the new insurance policy that helps cover the cost of Clara's daily ABA therapy/school.
Oh man, here we go.
I touched on it briefly in my book. About how I've come to expect these times and questionnaires and list of run downs be it from the pediatrician, insurance, or some other party that needs information on her development to assess where she is at or if she still qualifies for x, y, or z service.
And while I always feel strong and prepared going into such a task, still, four years into this whole special needs thing, I somehow am still caught off guard.
The sting of circling "no" or "never" for the hundredth time just saddens this mama's heart. Because I want to much more for my little girl.
I desperately want the answer to be "yes" or "usually."
I desperately wish she would get to a place where forms like the ones below are not our normal.
But we keep filling them out and trusting and praying that one day, our pen will circle a different answer. And maybe it will. Or maybe it won't. This is where faith meets my everyday.
We press on in hope because the Word tells us that hope does not disappoint us. God promises that when my mama heart grows tired and weary, when I feel that I am stumbling around in this world of special needs not having a clue what I'm doing, that hope is what renews my strength, day after day after long day (Isaiah 40:30-31).
And we pray without ceasing for our little girl because God also tells us that prayer is powerful and effective and that He always listens and takes note of the words we lift to Him (1 Peter 3:12).
I don't know what you're facing today. It might not be anything related to child development or milestone markers, but I'm sure there is something that stings every now and then. A "no" or "not right now" that you really wish would just be a resounding "YES!"
Oh, how I would love to wave a magic wand and make it all better for you, your circumstance. I really wish I could.
However, I am slowly learning that sometimes the "no's" are a gift. It's in the "no's" that I slow down my pace, refocus my eyes, and step back into trust with my Savior. I step out of the allusive drivers seat that I so often try to climb into and, once again, take my proper place, behind my God.
"No's" can be a gift because I learn that I'm really not in control after all. Imagine that.
So I will keep filling out the forms, embracing the sting, and all the while pushing my girl to reach her full potential. I will keep petitioning my God to mature Clara's development because nothing is too hard for Him (Jeremiah 32:27). And I will remember that it's in the "no's" where I tend to feel the closest to the Maker of Heaven himself.