Everyday Hope for Special NeedsНамуна

Hope for My Child

The Sun Will Rise

When my daughter Finley was four, we were leaving our church late one night after service. As you exit the church, you walk into a well-lit parking garage, so you don't immediately notice that it's dark outside.

I get our girls into the car and start driving home. As we began exiting the parking garage into a dark street, I heard this panicked cry from my daughter in the backseat.

I immediately pulled over and turned around, frantically trying to figure out what was wrong. Finley was overcome with emotion, unable to speak at first. After what seemed like an eternity, she finally took a breath and dramatically cried out, "I just wanted to see the sun ONE. MORE. TIME!"

I had to quickly turn back around in my seat so she couldn't see me laugh. Poor baby was devastated over something so obvious. I composed myself long enough to help her calm down and then promised that if she just closed her eyes and rested, she would see the sun again.

As I drove home, chuckling at her overreaction, the Lord began to show me that so many times, I am the panicked, distraught child in the backseat without hope for something so sure to happen.

Thankfully, our heavenly Father doesn't laugh at our distress. He loves us enough to pull to the side of the road, turn and see us face to face, and comfort us – reminding us of what is sure.

There are so many uncertainties we face in this life. So many things we can't know, fix or change. Feeling helpless can begin to make us feel hopeless. It becomes hard to hear our Father's voice comforting us from the front seat. And we begin to wonder: Will this night ever end?

Perhaps darkness for you began with a diagnosis. Doctors' words ringing in your ears, "Your child has a disability." Perhaps, it came at the realization that life would never be the same again, and what is normal would forever be redefined. Maybe darkness set in when you began to grieve the dreams you had for your child, feeling like all you could see were limitations. Or maybe, you're just tired of the appointments, therapies, the stares of strangers, unwarranted advice, and seemingly unending need for more time, money, and energy than you have to give.

It's no wonder that hope seems to evade us some days. Under the diagnosis and daily grind of caring for a child with special needs, hope begins to feel less real and more like a mirage that we will never actually reach. In those moments, it doesn't feel so silly to question: Will I see the sun again?

The prophet Jeremiah was no stranger to this lamenting. In Lamentations chapter 3, he exclaims, "My hope in the Lord is gone." He continues, "The thought of my pain is bitter poison. I think of it constantly, and my spirit is depressed."

This hopelessness is often real life. Jeremiah was overcome with grief and just wanted to see the sun one more time.

Thankfully, graciously, a three-letter-word slipped in to calm the despair and redeem the day. Yet.

Lamentations 3:21-24 continues, "Yet hope returns when I remember this one thing: The Lord's unfailing love and mercy continue, fresh as the morning, as sure as the sunrise. The Lord is all I have, and so in him, I put my hope."

Yet is our lifeline, our anchor, and what snaps us out of the darkness, reminding us of what is sure, of WHO is sure.

The Lord may be all we have, yet the Lord is all we need.

If our hope is squarely on His shoulders, His faithfulness, His unfailing love, and continued mercy, we can breathe a sigh of relief. We can face the night, knowing the Lord's faithfulness is as sure as the sunrise.

Our hope must be in Him alone. Doctors, medications, therapies, well-meaning people, and even our strength will fail us. Yet our God will not fail.

If you feel like the distraught child in the backseat, wondering if the darkness means God failed you or failed your child, know that He has not. He cannot. And He will not.

Hebrews 10:23 beautifully reminds us to "hold on firmly to the hope we profess, because we can trust God to keep his promise."

God has your child firmly in His grasp, each one of their days written before they came to be (Psalm 139:16). The journey may seem dark or uncertain at times, but He is our sure path. Perhaps all you need is to close your eyes and rest – trusting that the sun is on its way.

Declare this: There is HOPE for my child. I choose to set aside all uncertainty and fear and put my hope in what is sure – the faithfulness of God.