Don't look up

I am just emerging from a dark couple of weeks. I shared in the previous blog post how emotionally draining I found the first few weeks of Matt's schooling to be. In addition to highlighting Matt's delays, it also highlighted how far we still need to go in terms of Matt's development - social maturity, fine motor skills - especially using his hands and fingers, communication, and much more. I think last year - when Matt was in a settled, safe space both here at home and in his play group - it was much easier to focus on the achievements and progress. Last year there were lots of celebrations in our home as Matt's speech slowly but consistently bubbled forth, and as he revealed his growing understanding of the world around him.

This new school environment - though very warm and embracing of Matt - has highlighted the "what still needs to be achieved" steps. A helpful metaphor...it feels like I have been climbing a big mountain for the last 5 years and I finally reached the top - as I stand at the top, ready to raise my arms in victory I happen to look up. Instead of seeing open skies, I see another mountain, a bigger mountain, a more treacherous looking mountain. And as I look down towards the path I have just finished climbing all these years, I don't see much of mountain, rather a small hill. My victory-arms fall to my sides, I exhale as the energy of what was supposed to be a great conquering moment feels more like an anticlimax. I don't feel like I have the capacity to keep climbing and despair sets in.

Fortunately in that place of dejection, my prayers for help were heard. I felt God whisper to my spirit that I should not stand alone, but rather reach out to others who are also climbing the mountain. And so two tearful emails were sent across cyberspace and great ocean divides to two inspiring women and mothers of precious RTS children. That act of reaching out, choosing not to stay isolated, allowed hope to be reborn in my heart. Their loving and wise responses added a greater measure of hope and reawakened my tenacity. With a heart now open to receive - God brought in other people across my path, most of them unknowingly, to speak words of encouragement to me.

Yes there is a giant mountain that needs to be climbed - it will only be conquered over years. But the vastness of this challenge no longer fills my vision. I have heeded good advice to rather focus my eyes on the immediate goals and the current joys. So Matt and I will picnic on this hill top, we will throw a ball, roll in the grass, and eat a snack - and then once again pick up our journey of walking up a mountain. Already I can see God placing some fellow climbers alongside us for the next part of the trip. I know I will be able to keep going.