Everyday Hope for Special NeedsНамуна

Hope for A Purpose Fulfilled

Do You Trust Me?

Sugar is my child’s love language. She especially loves it in the form of whipped cream. And to justify her whipped cream consumption, I often serve it with a bowl of berries so we can both meet our desires.

After lunch one afternoon, she asked me for a treat. To avoid the leftover Easter candy in the pantry, I began to make a bowl of berries and whipped cream.

Before the can of whipped cream was out of the fridge, she walked into the kitchen to see the bowl of berries on the counter. Tears quickly came, followed by the familiar cries of a toddler meltdown. She laid herself out on the floor, declaring, “I don’t want fruit! I want a treat!”

Determined not to quickly appease her tantrum, I gave her a few minutes to calm down. Once there was a break in the fits of crying, I stooped down and looked her in the eyes, saying, “Do you trust me?”

See, I knew what was coming. The plan was set from the beginning. She was willing to settle for a measly snack-sized square of chocolate, but I had better plans. This was to be no basic bowl of fruit, but a decadent, sugary treat that would exceed her expectations.

But now we’re stuck in this moment. Her hopes are dashed – laying prostrate on the floor – determined that I’ve forgotten her heart’s desire. And I’m just waiting to see if she’ll trust me. My eyes are almost pleading with hers to quiet the disappointment long enough to hear my voice saying, “I’ve got something more, something better for you.”

It was not quick or easy, but her eyes finally settled on mine long enough to see that I had a plan. Her trust was reluctant, but it eventually came. And as it did, so did the whipped cream can out of the fridge.

Her eyes lit up, followed by squeals of joy. The fit on the floor was a far-away memory as I topped off the seemingly mediocre fruit with something grand.

Matthew 7:9-11 asks, “Which one of you if his son asks him for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a serpent? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask him!”

He’s a good Father. You can ask Him for the whipped cream, whatever that may be for you. And rest assured that God is not deterred by our disappointment. He is not put off by our tears, our questions, nor our sometimes-fragile faith. His plan has been set from the beginning.

He is patiently, graciously sitting near to us, eager to stoop low and say, “Do you trust me?”

Answering with an enthusiastic “yes!” sounds easy when it comes to low stake issues like whipped cream. But how quickly does that “yes” fade when the stakes are higher? When we’re no longer talking about dessert, but the deepest longings of our heart? Do we eagerly and earnestly trust God to fulfill His purpose in our special needs child? Or have we just settled for the berries?

Ephesians 3:20 talks about a God “who is able to do immeasurably more than all that we ask or imagine.” Do we believe He is profoundly able when our child may be profoundly disabled? Do we stop asking or even imagining what “could be” when all we see are limitations? Is He still a good Father who gives good gifts when it seems like we’ve been given a stone instead of bread?

According to Philippians 2:13, “it is God who works in you both to will and to act in order to fulfill his good purpose.”

If we’re going to take God at His word here, then we must believe that God has a purpose for each of us – no matter our ability. Not only that, but He is the one who does the work in us – giving us both the desire and ability to fulfill that purpose.

We see this play out through a remarkable story in John 9:1-3. “As he passed by, he saw a man blind from birth. And his disciples asked him, ‘Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?’ Jesus answered, ‘It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him.’”

Too often, like the disciples, we assume disabilities are an unwanted result of something bad. But that’s not what Jesus says. The man was born blind, so “the works of God might be displayed in him.”

It sounds like despite his limitations, the man was born blind on purpose, with a purpose.

No matter your child’s ability, they were born for a God-designed purpose. And according to Philippians 1:6, whatever God begins, He is faithful to complete. Which means we don’t have to settle for the berries. We can trust Him for the whipped cream.

Declare this: There is HOPE for a purpose fulfilled. I choose to look past limitations and abilities, trusting that God will accomplish every good purpose in our lives.