Watching helpless.

Without ability.

Without words to comfort.


This could be many places and times in my past but today it was my son.

He is an active, gentle, sensitive, caring, emotional child

 who struggles.

Last year they explained his struggle:

Communication Disorder

And they started to help

 by training him, playing with him, listening to him

sign language

And the pain eased

Not as often did he melt into puddles of emotion because his frustration

 Trying to answer questions,

Trying to make me understand,

Trying to let us into the world inside his mind.

Today, reading a book about communication disorders the pain surged up and bit me,

but only for a moment.

Who our son is and how he is made includes this. I thanked the Lord for the people He has placed in our lives to help our boy. I thanked Him for the book that is helping me better understand. I thanked Him for making our son just as he is, because I love him just as he is. And then,

I walked into the kitchen with him and started playing a game we have. You might think it sounds strange but I ask him, “What is this called?” and I point at the frig.

For him it is a real tricky question and one we have been practicing.

 He got it tonight.

And I am so thankful, through the pain we have hope.


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