I wrote this post on a very sad day and I haven’t written a post since.  There are lots of things going on in my life that seem to keep me from writing.  When I wrote this post, I didn’t feel like I could put it out there at the time, it felt too raw.  I re-read it today as the rain fell and the cold air moved into Birmingham. I wrote it about my friend who died.  I have a painting by my friend that hangs in my hall and it reminds me of him daily.  I miss him and I think of his family and how much they must miss him.  I am still waiting for winter to pass in so many ways.  I thought I would put it out there and hope that you will be encouraged to love more fully as we truly never know how long we will walk this earth.

This is what I wrote the day our dear friend died:

I am writing today because writing is what I am ultimately compelled to do when nothing else in this broken world will soften the blow of the pain and suffering of life. It doesn’t give me relief in the form of answers or even of some slight understanding of how and why things happen as they do, but it at least lets me see my thoughts and begin to process the multitude of things that I feel swallowed up by right now.

My friend died today. I know everyone dies. I know everyone grieves and suffers and rubs up against that unbearable reality of death. And it is unbearable, it is that ultimate boogey-man that comes in the night and robs us of the right and good and precious thing…life.

I won’t waste my sad words on some sort of tribute for my friend. He was remarkable, yet he does not need my words to make his memory strong. He lives in my heart as well as the hearts of those who loved him unbelievably more that I could ever imagine. But, I will write about how his life has impacted mine. He taught me many things, and most without ever trying. He made decisions that swam upstream against a current that both he and I had known for what seemed a lifetime.  I too have made decisions that swam against that current and had experienced the backlash as a result.

These decisions that he made are not what affected my life and my soul, but his acquiescence to what those decisions brought to his life full-force. To say that the ‘ripple affect’ was in play when these decisions were made is an understatement, but for me, those ripples rocked my world and my faith. To watch a world that had been my ‘only’ world for almost two decades, turn on this friend because they had no space for his decisions, that changed me. My faith, that which I would have professed as the core of my being, was in question on so many levels.

The friends I had at the time, which included this one who is now gone, were what kept me from going under. This friend was a man who, above all else, loved Jesus and, beyond that, he believed that Jesus loved him.  I was profoundly affected by the way in which he believed this.  He went on to marry the love of his life and begin to see the lovely fruits of his life decisions. I sent this text to he and his bride, just after their nuptials this past November:

Hey, so sorry that we missed your celebration. We have a gift for you. Heard it all was lovely. I have been saving something in my wallet to share with you both. It has become a little worn, but I pull it out periodically and re-read it…waiting for the abundance and wishing for the winter to pass. It has passed for our other friend, now it as passed for the both of you and your children. I tore it from one of the programs at RMS a long, long time ago. It reads, as if you don’t already know:

“The woods and pastures are joyous in their abundance now in a season of warmth and much rain. We walk amidst foliage, amidst song. The sheep and cattle graze like souls in bliss (except for flies) and lie down satisfied. Who now can believe in winter? In winter who could have hoped for this?” Given: Poems – Wendell Berry

I love you both and am happy that your winter has passed. It gives me hope.

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Indeed, the winter seemed to have passed, but no one thought it would come again, certainly not me. But when it came this time, it would prove to be the most bitter winter ever and it would take our friend from us forever. Where is my hope now? I am so very heartbroken for his courageous wife and beautiful children.  I know that to hope in things in this world is for naught. Yet, if we can not hope here and have glimpses of the hope that I believe will ultimately be, what do we have? My friend is at rest, his ultimate winter has passed and I can I am certain he finds it impossible to even ‘believe in winter’ where he finds himself now. But here, the winter feels fierce and I feel chilled to the bone. Not simply because a merciful and humble man has left us, but because of all the mystery that is left for those who loved him to contemplate.

I gave my friend a print by Brian Andreas years ago. It talks about different plans.  I never anticipated that I would come back to it today and read it with such different meaning. My friend was indeed lucky enough to lose his life in such a way that it has become ‘beautiful with mystery again.’ Oh for the hope to embrace that mystery for us all.  The hope to believe past winter. My friend believed past winter, even when he was in the midst of it.  I want to be like him.

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I know I haven’t posted in a long, long, long time.  I have been slow to write as I have discovered, in the process of encouraging others to find their voice and to live beyond their personal pales, that I am not necessarily practicing what I preach.  That won’t come as any kind of surprise for anyone who has ever chosen to step out to lead in some form or fashion, however, it has sent me into some fairly deep introspection in these last few months.  I have no answers, as I have plainly stated before, but I am living out and through my own questions.  When I feel that I can write with conviction, I promise I will resume.

However, in the meantime, I do not want you all to miss some really great things that I am personally learning along the way.  I mentioned a fantastic book in my last two posts and now I am going to tell you about an organization that I believe is committed to doing just what I believe needs to be done, so badly, in our country and most specifically in my ‘neck of the woods’ – empowering women!

I was asked to consider becoming a board member of Leading Edge Institute this past week and I would love for you to go to their website, read what we are about and give me your thoughts on how to empower women.

This is how you can help and why others are helping…

No related posts.

So, now I want to address those who would consider themselves ‘liberal’ or committed to the ‘social gospel.’  Or, quite honestly, those who do not espouse faith at all.  There are a limited number of individuals that do not see themselves as having some sort of responsibility for humanity at large.  And quite frankly, I know far more liberal friends who are far more committed to changing the ills of this world than those who proclaim a strong faith.

So, that being said, does the other side of the coin offer a better soulution than those who come at it from a ‘faith’ perspective? Can education and poverty reduction be the answer to the atrocities that I have read about in Half the Sky: Turning Oppression into Opportunity for Women Worldwide ?  It certainly is a foundational part of bringing about true and lasting change, but I believe, it is not either or, but both and.

We can give these women education and build into their lives a stronger sense of self by equipping them to provide for themselves and their families, but ultimately, if their hearts are empty, if their self-worth is found only in their ability to produce and survive, what happens when their efforts do not flourish?

They too must have a change of paradigm about the value of women, the value of their own lives, and if there is not a higher power that attributes that value, what will they do?  We are what we worship and if there is truly nothing that is transcendent, where will these women find themselves? Even if they have escaped the brothels, the genocide, the rape, where will they be if they do not see beyond the finite? Faith, in my opinion, must be a part of the change that needs to happen.

However, many on the left side, those who have a deep-seated mistrust of the church and those of faith, have separated themselves from all that do not espouse their worldview.  What would happen if we laid down our arms against each other in the name of coming together to end such horrible ills in our country and our world?  What if the left, the liberal left, chose to respect the faith of the conservatives, or even the faith of many of their own, and work, hand in hand?

Jesus said, in one of the gospels, as his closest followers questioned the motives of a group who was preaching in Jesus’ name.  It is probable that their path was different, possibly even the way they lived out their faith was different.  Jesus answered the critique with a rebuke.  He simply said, if they are not against us, they are with us.  I recognize I am taking liberty with this passage, but ultimately, if we in the church long to see redemption, can we not work with and along side those who are working for the same thing?

Is God so small that we must fight for him to have the Christian fish stamped on every effort that we participate in or of which we are a part?

One of the women who read Part I of this topic wrote this:

“Jorja, Thanks for this. First, I would like to say that I am hopeful b/c I have found a Baptist church here in Frankfort, KY (our capitol) that is doing a great job caring for the sick, poor and marginalized. We have a medical and dental clinic and pharmacy that is run by volunteers and serves people in our community who don’t have other health care options. We also have a clothes closet that is like a department store and are a part of a local food pantry that is making plans to organize in a way where people get to ‘shop’ and choose the foods they need and want. We partner with the local health dept. and many other non profits and churches of all types to do these things. We manage to do this in spite of many differing political views within our own congregation. We also have a center for creative arts that offers free music practice and lessons to children. Now, all of that said, I am aware, thanks to you, that we can do more addressing issues that oppress women specifically. I celebrate that we are evangelical, but we ordain women as lay people and ministers and strive to use inclusive language, etc. Many churches do this, but sadly, not many Baptist ones in the south. Still there is so much more we could do to raise awareness about sex trafficking, slavery, etc. I will definitely be thinking and praying about how I can and should be a catalyst for this. Thanks a bunch.”

How encouraging to see that there are churches that are caring for the ‘least of these’ in a combined effort with a multitude of organizations who are committed to the same things.  To see human beings coming together because they too, as Dr. King said in his Letter from Birmingham Jail believe what he wrote:

“…I am cognizant of the interrelatedness of all communities and states…Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly affects all indirectly.“

I do not have answers.  I only have questions.  But they must be asked, and pondered if their is to be real change in this country and this world.  I believe more than I ever have that I am a part of ‘an inescapable network of mutuality’ and a ‘single garment of destiny.’

What do you think?  What are your questions?

Related posts:

1. Pull that String (Part I)

In reading Half the Sky: Turning Oppression into Opportunity for Women Worldwide I have begun to contemplate what really is at the bottom of this oppression and abuse of women around the world.  And for that matter, the inequity that women suffer in this country.  The statistics are overwhelming and truly I could not begin to give you an adequate picture of all that has and still is transpiring.  I think that this quote, from the book helps sum it up well.

“The global statistics on the abuse of girls are numbing.  It appears that more girls have been killed in the last fifty years, precisely because they were girls, than men were killed in all the wars of the twentieth century.  More girls are killed in this routine “gendercide” in any one decade than people were slaughtered in all the genocides of the twentieth century.  In the nineteenth century, the central moral challenge was slavery.  In the twentieth century, it was the battle against totalitarianism.  We believe that in this century the paramount moral challenge will be the struggle for gender equality in the developing world.”

Those numbers, those facts, are almost impossible to wrap my head around.  I am the mother of two girls.  And the results of those numbers are not only found in the developing world.  The wealth of the West has enabled these traffickers to bring these sex slaves to the United States where they are daily sold to the johns of America.  This is our problem, it is not the problem of the developing world alone.  But what can be done?

I want to explore some of the perspectives of what can be done and I am certain that I can not cover this ground in one post.  So, for today, I want to begin to look at the perspective of the community of faith, specifically, the evangelical church.  Regardless of where you fall out, regardless of whether you profess any kind of faith at all, I believe the call of Jesus to love the orphan and the widow, the less fortunate, the least of these can be agreed upon by most people.  There is a sense, even in those who don’t believe in a higher power, that we are all apart of humanity and have some sense of responsibility to care for others.  This line of thinking, in my faith, is the result of human beings being made in the image of God.  We as humans reflect his nature in general, but in specific ways by caring for other human beings as God himself would care for them.

Unfortunately, the institutional, Bible believing, evangelical Christian church in America has lost its voice on multiple levels because of its failure to do just that, care for others.  Now, while I do not intend to address every facet of the perspective that I am referring to, I do want to raise some questions…you know I love questions.

As I begin this quest, I want to put these words before you, they are from N.T. Wright’s Surprised by Hope: Rethinking Heaven, the Resurrection, and the Mission of the Church.  In his chapter on justice, Wright writes these words, which I find unbelievably compelling:

“…there are those who declare that nothing can be done until the Lord (Jesus) returns and everything is put to rights.  The forces of evil are too entrenched, and nothing save a great apocalyptic moment of divine power can address them or change the deep structures of the way things are.  This kind of dualism breeds very effectively within societies where, though injustice can be seen and named, it is politically inconvenient to do anything about it.  We will get on, such a view says, with the real business of the gospel, which is that of saving souls for the future world.  We will even do mopping-up operations, Band-Aid activities, to look after the people at the bottom of the pile.  But we won’t do anything about the structures that put them there and keep them there.”

Those in the community of faith can tend to see the most cruel injustices of the world from this perspective.  They may not be opposed to education and poverty reduction, but their bottom line is saving souls.   The dualism that Wright speaks of is rooted in a view that says only the spiritual (saving souls) is of value, not the material (working to change the actual injustices suffered by real human beings) and certainly not the political if it steps off course with our conservative politics.

If you pull that string, where does it lead?

This question has given me much to think about and I don’t necessarily believe I have found my way through the twisted and quagmired mess that is American thinking on such an issue, but I want to talk about it.

How does this play out in the action of the church?  I will say that I have seen, in my twenty-four years of being a part of said community, more effort given to the political causes of this country than the least of these in this country. If you pull that string, you will find that the Christian community has become little more than a mouthpiece for fiscally conservative candidates who play on their moral sympathies.  Some would even say it has become a political sub-group to be manipulated and motivated to give to the causes of one particular (now two particular) parties.

• While I know that saying this will provoke frustration from some of my readers, even anger, what say you?
• What would it look like if every dollar given to the politics of the United States of America had been spent on caring for the least of these?
• How little government spending would there be if the church actually cared for the widow and the orphan?
• I am not advocating that those of faith abandon the forum of politics or public policy, to the contrary, I am asking the question of the church, have we lost our way?

Stumping for ‘pro-life’ candidates seems the logical thing to do if you believe in the dignity and honor of every single human life.  However, isn’t that a very easy and neat topic to choose?  Why doesn’t that same belief extend to those who are trafficked as sex slaves or to those who are dying every single minute because they can’t deliver the babies that they actually have chosen to keep?

I recognize that these questions are provocative, however, they must be asked.  The faith community must crawl out of the bed of conservative politicians.  In my opinion, conservative persons of faith have all but whored themselves out and become the sex slave of the political candidates that best represent our political agendas.

On a second point, Kristof and WuDunn repeatedly bring the bottom line of how women are treated around the world is rooted in the paradigm that women are ‘less than’ men, that their lives are expendable.  They write,

“In much of the world, women die because they aren’t thought to matter.  There’s a strong correlation between countries where women are marginalized and countries with high maternal mortality.”

So, if that is the case, are those of faith, specifically in the United States, contributing to this “marginalization” of women in our own churches here in America?   It has been my experience, and the experience of a multitude of other women, that the church has not only allowed such perspectives to dominate, but the predominantly male leadership has used its spiritual power to perpetuate and teach such doctrine.

I recognize that I am treading on sacred ground when I bring this marginalization to the forefront.  I also readily acknowledge that those men and women who are settled in the status quo, regardless of whether or not it is based in truth, will be angered.  But let me be clear, I am not writing a doctrinal thesis nor do I have the emotional energy to write specifics of the experiences that I mention.

If you have never, as a woman, experienced the abuse of power by male leadership in the church, in your culture or in your marriage, then kudos to you my friend.  This is not an indictment on all men, all churches and all leadership, but the truth remains that  there are some churches that could be equated with a Muslim state, one in which a woman’s word counts only a fourth of that of a man.  My question is not, is it pervasive, but, does it exist at all?   And if the answer is yes, then we must address it.  If we profess to love this Jesus, why does the church not value women the way that Jesus valued women?

Those in the faith community must broaden their perspectives, and that includes me.  We must consider our dualistic views.  Responding to the injustice in this world must go beyond addressing the spiritual and begin to consider how to care for ‘the least of these’ in this material world.

This piece, aired on ABC News with Diane Sawyer, is one example of those who are addressing both the spiritual and the material where these injustices are the norm.  Why aren’t there a million stories like this one?

What do you think?  Are you a part of the marginalized community that I mentioned?  What has been your experience?

Pull the strings attached to your own views and truly consider where they lead you and leave the world.

Related posts:

1. Pull That String (Part II)
2. Blogging Community 101 – BlogHer ’10 Experience
3. Credentials for Life

Today is my MH’s eleventh birthday.  I love her more than I ever knew I could love her…today.  I laugh constantly at her wit, her charm and how mischievous she can be.  Yet, as I write this, and even as I sat yesterday morning and giggled with my dear friends at all of the “Mari-Helenisms” that we all love to repeat, I grieve.

My grief is not a reflection of any absence of love for her, nor does it preclude a celebration of her life.  It is instead, the most honest and truthful thing that accompanies me, as a mother who has a child that suffers.  We all know grief because we all suffer.

Eleven years ago today, February 1, 2000, I was a very different woman than I am today.  I would never go back, but all that has followed that day, in my story, has unraveled all that went before.

A new mentor in my life said that where I am today is a hard and painful place, yet it is fertile with possibility.  I am hopeful that this is true, as somuch has to be unlearned, so much has to be walked through.

Grief does not eliminate hope or happiness or joy, it simply offers a beautiful, stark and black background to the shiny moments of our lives.  I have felt an ‘obesity of grief’ fill my heart and mind so many times in these eleven years, but I am always brought round to hope.

I love my baby girl and I love my life.  Happy Birthday baby girl!

“to love life, to love it even
when you have no stomach for it
and everything you’ve held dear
crumbles like burnt paper in your hands,
your throat filled with the silt of it.
When grief sits with you, its tropical heat
thickening the air, heavy as water
more fit for gills than lungs;
when grief weights you like your own flesh
only more of it, an obesity of grief,
you think, How can a body withstand this?
Then you hold life like a face
between your palms, a plain face,
no charming smile, no violet eyes,
and you say, yes, I will take you
I will love you, again.”

E. Bass

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The significance of the MLK holiday is not lost on me.  I know up close, a small part of the world in which he lived and worked.  I live in Birmingham, Alabama.  I was born in Memphis, Tennessee, just three short months before Dr. King’s life came to a tragic end.  I was taught marginally about Dr. King and his legacy in the Mississippi public schools that he fought to desegregate.  However, it was his burden to right the wrong of injustice that changed my world and yours.  That kind of life is worth emulating and celebrating.

Dr. King spoke over 2,500 times during his leadership in the Civil Rights Movement.  Anyone who longs to see injustice eradicated from this world can find multiple opportunities to quote his beautiful rhetoric.  Yesterday, I was struck by his words in a more profound sense due to the convergence of several themes in my own life.

I am currently reading Half the Sky: Turning Oppression into Opportunity for Women Worldwide which has begun a stirring in my soul. My friend Kate asked me to read it, knowing my desire to advocate for women in general and encourage women toward empowerment.  She knew full well that it would capture my heart and move me.  It has indeed, and with that moving has come a broader view of what that empowerment might look like.

In its pages I have come face to face with the gender inequality of sex trafficking, maternal mortality and honor killings.  These tragedies and abuses in the developing world go beyond anything we American women can even imagine when we think of inequality.  The stories of these women have taken my breath away and at the same time, given me hope.

I stopped writing in December, on the blog, because I felt that I needed a clearer direction.  I am not writing now because I have found that clear direction, but because I cannot but write about what I am learning about women around the world and their needs.  Nor do I believe I can find said direction without writing my way into it.  Having said that, I am compelled on multiple levels by all that I am learning in the book.  It both reminds me and exhorts me that with blessing comes a measure of responsibility.

There is a quote by Mother Teresa that is quite haunting for me, and quite frankly, should be for anyone born in the United States of America.  She says, “Let us touch the dying, the poor, the lonely and the unwanted according to the graces we have received and let us not be ashamed or slow to do the humble work.”  For me, finding my voice and learning to navigate my world with a solid understanding of self is vital, however, if my personal enlightenment leads to nothing more than just that, ‘personal enlightenment,’ then of what value is it to the world at large?  And for that matter, of what value is it to me if what I learn does not embolden me to an enlarged life that promotes empathy and compassion and love?

I think that is what struck me yesterday about this passage from MLK’s Letter from Birmingham Jail…King writes in response to those who are critiquing him and the Civil Rights leadership for coming to stir-up trouble in Birmingham.  King writes in response:

“I am in Birmingham because injustice is here …I am cognizant of the interrelatedness of all communities and states. I cannot sit idly by in Atlanta and not be concerned about what happens in Birmingham. Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly affects all indirectly. Never again can we afford to live with the narrow, provincial “outside agitator” idea. Anyone who lives inside the United States can never be considered an outsider …”

I am compelled to consider my place in this world and the ‘graces’ I have received.  I live in a culture where living a ‘narrow’ life is very safe and being an ‘outside agitator’ is problematic.  This is true on so many levels that I could not begin to address them in this single post, but if there are times in one’s life when multiple flickers come together to ignite a flame, I am beginning to feel the warmth of such a flame.

I am moved on the deepest levels by the injustices that are perpetuated against women around the world, and in my backyard, and I know that King’s assessment that ‘Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere” is an accurate one.  Yet I am unsure as to the role that I am to play in addressing the injustice.

So I do not write this post to tell you of my new plan, but to tell you that I am intrigued and I am burdened by this knowledge.  I am begging for the strength to move in a direction that will have meaning and affect on my little corner of the world…and the world at large.  I am writing this post as a point of accountability of some sort, because to think these things and discuss them with those close to me is easy…to say that you want to act on the knowledge is quite a different thing.

Dr. King also said this, “Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.”  I am not sure where any of this will lead, or the direction it will take, but I am certain that I can no longer be ‘silent about things that matter.’

So, I suppose the vacation from writing is over.

(Oh yeah, go download Patty Griffin’s Up To The Mountain which was inspired by the life of MLK!  It is amazing.)

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2. Blogging Community 101 – BlogHer ’10 Experience
3. Defaulting to a 58 girl?

Hello people…iI know my posts have dwindled…I hope to have a clear vision of what i am going to write about beginning with the new year.  I am torn, a lot, when I sit down to write and I have sought a bit of counsel as to how to give myself permission to write what I really want to write, for those that I truly want to be a part of Living Beyond the Pale.  I sincerely hope you all have a fabulous holiday season.  Cheers and lots of love from me!

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My husband sent this TED video to me today.  It is very thought-provoking.  Do you know what you believe?  Do you know your own WHY?

No related posts.

My time with the students was good.  I cried more than usual.  I think it was just one of those days, a day when the grief and fear of my life with MH just needed to come out in big ol’ crocodile tears.  As I read the letter from a parent, (from The Thinking Person’s Guide to Austim) to them I had to stop several times to keep from falling off the edge of crying into the gulf of sobbing.

I also got to hear from another parent here in our community.  She was funny and poignant as she told her story and also shared some discouraging comments that she has endured along the way.  The details of her story are different, but the experiences are similar and it is always good to know you are not alone.

The students sat wide-eyed and curious.  Some laughed, some could not hold back their own tears.  They asked questions about everything from special education funding and the disparity between systems to how to best handle specific situations in a classroom.

I asked my friend Dr. Spencer to get some specific feedback from them.  This is what I want to share with you…

All in all, it was about enlarging their understanding and giving them a new lens through which to view their future professions.  I am grateful to share my story, or at least a part of it.  It is our stories that connect us, remind us that we are all in this together.  I think the students were able to begin the journey of empathy for the families that they will eventually encounter.  That…is good, and I am so happy to be a part.

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1. Burnt Popcorn & Broken Hearts
2. The Shade of Generosity
3. Return Address

“I burn house down.”  Those were the words that came flowing out of MH’s mouth this morning.  She was referring to her ‘cooking’ of some popcorn while I was out of town this weekend.  I knew there had been a slip-up when my husband called me and asked, “What makes the smoke smell go away?”  I had taken my oldest, my now 16 year old, to the beach with friends.  We do it every year and it is one of her favorite things.  It is nice for me too, to not think about burnt popcorn and broken hearts.

It is funny to talk about it after the fact.  MH putting popcorn in the microwave, like she sees us do it, and setting the time for somewhere north of ten minutes.  KABOOM!  smoke, fire, and a very stinky house.  Popcorn doesn’t do well after about 3 minutes.  But in reality, something as silly as this little episode can send me reeling in a quiet, reflective moment.

MH has to be watched…all the time.  It isn’t even that she is trying to make trouble, she is just doing what she sees other people do.  She doesn’t have the cognitive ability to know how to do it, or to understand danger.  These things, these incidents make me cry if I let them.  No, she didn’t burn the house down.  No, no one was injured.  No, no real harm was done, but I know it could have been done.

I know that she is 10 and her future will be full of potential harm.  Potential harm that makes me wonder and worry and feel both anxiety and guilt all at the same time.  It will take money and help to keep her safe and I have neither.  It sends me into a mind game of panic about what would happen to her if I weren’t here, if my husband wasn’t here.

It isn’t like that all the time.  For the most part, I can laugh and smile at “I burn house down.”  I have to laugh now.  She is the cutest and most clever little girl in the world to me.  But not knowing, not being able to see how it will all work out in the future…if I let it, it pulls me into an emotional tailspin.

I am going to speak today to a room full of Special Education students at a local college.  This is the second time I have done this.  What do I tell them?  I tell them that while they see a project, a goal, an objective…I see a life, a person a broken little baby that needs their help.  I also tell them that the best thing they can do for my child, for me…is to imagine what it is to live with a ten year old who says, “I burn house down.”

Living with a child with special needs changes EVERYTHING.  I asked other parents what they would want me to tell these future educators.  My friend Shannon, over at The Thinking Person’s Guide to Autism, referred me to this letter, written by another mother of a special needs child, and what we want others to know.

” Hello?

New teacher, or therapist, or doctor? Is that you?

Oh hello…

I just wanted to chat with you a second. To caution you. Or warn you.  Please, tread carefully.

You see, what you might not realize as you look at me, talk to me, tell me your opinions, our options, our lack of options, and your predictions of our outcomes is that; well … you see that heart?

The slightly broken, definitely bruised one?

Yeah, that’s my heart.  My slightly-broken, definitely-bruised heart.

Now, I realize that as you look at me you might see … a confident parent … or an angry parent … or a happy-go-lucky parent… (a parent that laughs at “I burn house down!”)

You might think that I understand everything … or nothing … or that I have all the experience in the world because I have done this before … or that I know the rules … or that I don’t know the rules and that is for the best…

You might believe … that I am high maintenance … or overreacting … or maybe neurotic … or disengaged and uninterested … or that I don’t really care … or maybe I care too much…

But regardless of what you see, what you think, or what you believe, this is what you should know:  I am broken-hearted. And it doesn’t matter if it is the first day or a century later. It doesn’t matter where in the “grief cycle” I might be. It doesn’t matter if the wounds are healed, or healing, or fresh and new. This heart is bruised. Slightly broken. Different than it once was and will ever be again. And when you speak, or don’t speak, in judgment or not, my heart is out there.

Some of “us” parents … the ‘special’ ones … can be a pain in the ass. I know that. We know that. But we are fighting a fight we never planned to fight, and it doesn’t end. We don’t get to clock out at the end of the day. We don’t get a vacation from it. We live it, everyday. We are fighting without knowing how to fight it, and we depend so much on you to help us. We have been disappointed, by you or others like you. And we are disappointed in ourselves. We are your harshest critics. We are our own harshest critics too. We are genuinely fearful, and driven, and absolutely devoted. And we also know, we need you. So please, be careful with us. Because as hard and tough as we may look outwardly, our hearts are fragile things.”

So, that is what I will tell them, and what I will tell you.  We may look like we have the world by the tail, we may laugh about stories about burnt popcorn…but, please, please know…we have broken hearts that never go away.  We have the weight of the world on our shoulders.  Walk with us.  Love us in spite of it.  Love our children.  Encourage your children to love them too.

After all, we all have broken hearts…

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