Special Calling

In high school, I had a talk with my mom one night about a special needs boy that I knew.  I can remember telling her that I could never imagine being a parent of a special needs kid.  I never thought that I would be able to handle it.  Later in life, I would get married and have two healthy boys.  I was happy where I was.  When my wife brought up the idea of having another child, I thought back to that conversation with my mom.  I had two healthy boys, and I was scared to risk it.  After some time, we decided to have a third, and twenty-four weeks into my wife's pregnancy, one of my fears would become a reality.  My wife gave birth to a 1 pound 6 ounce baby boy, named Caleb.  A boy that would undergo numerous surgeries and would spend the first 6 months of his life in a hospital.  While he was fighting physical battles, I was fighting my own battles.  Part of me was mad at God for giving me something that I never wanted, and part of me blamed myself for "speaking this" into being.  Over the next few years, he would slowly gain strength, and I would slowly accept my new role as a special needs father.

In 2014, my wife would give birth to another boy, named Nathaniel.  Everything seemed great.  Then we got another diagnosis.  My youngest was diagnosed as being on the autism spectrum.  I felt numb.  Just when I thought I was getting a grip on having a special needs child, why would God allow another one in my life?  I didn't understand, and I didn't know how I was going to manage being a dad to my four boys and the husband that my wife would need.

Some days were better than others, but there was one night that changed my outlook.  A night where I finally felt like it started to make sense to me.  My wife had called me at work and asked if I wanted to go to Rock City to see the Christmas lights.  For those of you who may not know, Rock City is a tourist attraction on top of Lookout Mountain just south of Chattanooga.  I agreed, because I knew she had really been wanting to, but honestly, I dreaded it.  There are places that my wheelchair bound son can't go, and I had a two year old autistic child to chase around a mountain top covered in Christmas lights, at night, in the dark.  I had already decided before we left that it was going to be another miserable night that I couldn't enjoy like most families, because I was a special needs father.

As we began to drive up the mountain, I felt like God was telling me to go all in that night.  I don't know how to fully explain it, and I honestly don't remember everything that went through my head on that drive up.  I just remember feeling like God was telling me to go all in that night.  As we entered into Rock City, the guide there warned us that our 5 year old wouldn't be able to go all the way down the first trail that we decided to go on.  I decided to give it our best shot.  We squeezed through some tight places and slowly worked our way up some stairs before we finally came to a place that I simply couldn't get through.  I told my wife to take the other three on through, and I would meet them on the other side.  As I left with Caleb, we came to a tunnel of lights, and I could see Caleb looking around, so I grabbed his handles, and we ran as fast as we could through the tunnel.  As the lights zipped past us, both of us broke into laughter.  As we exited the end of the tunnel of lights, we turned and worked our way to an overlook.  From here, you can see seven states during the day, but at night, you get a beautiful view of Chattanooga below.  As we pulled up to the overlook, Caleb pulled himself up and stared out to the city below.  

In that moment, it hit me.  Here I stood at the top of a mountain, and the view was beautiful.  To get there, I had squeezed through some tight areas and slowly worked my way up some stairs.  I felt like that night was a representation of the previous, nearly six years of my life.  The only difference was, this time I was seeing the view as beautiful.  I stood up there and began to cry as I realized that I was missing the beautiful moments, because I was staying focused on the challenges.  

I said earlier that night was the "start" of things making sense.  I still have my days that I struggle, but I often reflect back to that  moment on the mountain, and this year, I was anxious to make that trip back up there.

As I reflect back over the last seven years now, I have learned so much, and my faith has grown tremendously, as I have faced moments that I had to rely on God.  I thought that was His purpose in this, but I believe there was more.  There are things that many of you can apply to your lives, even if you never have a special needs kid.  

1) Enjoy life where you are.  It is so easy to focus on what is going wrong and miss what is going right. 

2) God is our Father.  Like any father, He wants to hear from us.  Some of my greatest healing moments were talking to God when I was the angriest.

3) We don't know what God has in store for us.  We may think we know where life is going, but we are likely wrong.  I never thought I would be a special needs father.  I definitely never thought that God would teach me to love it. You have to continue to push forward and trust.

4) Share your story, no matter how ugly.  I am blown away at how many families I've met with special needs kids.  You never know how many people are struggling and feeling alone with the same struggle you have.  

5) I have come to learn that these special needs kids are actually special forces kids.  They are tough, resilient, and can pull you into their world full of love.