“Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow…” James 4:14
Far too often, we walk this path worried about what tomorrow will bring. We look at our child – our beautiful, disabled, atypical child – and we wonder what will become of him.
We hear of what has happened to others farther along this same path. We research the odds of his condition growing worse. We know more problems may be touched off by growth spurts, puberty, and other milestones that loom. Instead of counting on the best outcome, we expect the worst. Instead of celebrating the moment, the hour, the day, we let our frustrations and the uncertainty of what may come ensnare us.
We get so involved in thinking about tomorrow – the problems that may come, the money we won’t have, the permanency of the change he brings to us — that we let tomorrow rob us of today.
God has given us this day, this moment, this hour. We must not let it slip away.
We must make our child the focus of our life and help him carve out space in this world. We must see to his needs and manage the doctors, the therapists, the medicines.
But more importantly, we must guard this moment and give it to him. We must make ourselves available and present in his life. We have to be willing to share this moment, this hour, this day with him in a way that lets him know he is special.
He is special not because of his needs or his wheelchair or the impairment that sets him apart from his peers. He is special because he belongs to us and his life comes as a gift from Heaven. We must take the time to let that gift – all of it – unfold and open into our own life.
We can no more predict tomorrow than we can make the sun and moon trade places. While we must plan and prepare for what will come – there are critical decisions to be made and plans to be laid — we must spend ourselves today.
Today may be our last chance to love him as only we can do.
