Monday, March 7, 2022

The Tears of Silent Sparrow

 

Evie and her instructor on the corner of a busy street.

Today we had tears...lots of tears during our orientation and mobility lesson. 

Evie's been using a cane since she was 3 years old. But that doesn't mean she "relied" on the cane, and that doesn't mean that she used it to independently navigate busy or dangerous terrain. 

Now that we are looking at her starting college however, the game plan has changed and we need to change with it. 

And it's scary.

And it HARD.

Nobody likes to see Evie cry...it's heartbreaking...it's like seeing a baby bird who is injured. 

But tears are necessary because they reflect her realization that she can't fake her way through a lesson on her own positive attitude. No, sometimes it takes hard work, mind-bending work, gut-wrenching work. 

On the corner of one of our busiest neighborhood streets we saw her reach her breaking point today. The realization that life isn't safe. The realization that cars, speed, and distractions can equal injury and harm. The realization that there are no promises and there aren't really any shortcuts to true independence. 

It's terrifying as a parent of a child with disabilities to hear people speak so lightly of crosswalks, speed limits and handicap parking spots as if they shouldn't have to be bothered with these inconveniences because they are slowing them down or moving them further away from where they would like to be. 

All we are looking for is a way to keep our loved ones safe

Ultimately, though, I come back to one solution. My only solution

The government cannot save us.

The money cannot save us.

The rules cannot save us.

The Law cannot save us. 

Only God can save us. 

If I look anywhere else for solace, safety or salvation, I will be disappointed. 

You hem me in behind and before, and you lay your hand upon me. Psalm 139:5 

Hem her in, Lord. Hem in her in. Keep her safe in this crazy, broken world. Lay your hand upon her.