Differently-abled

Gabriel and I made a run to Home Depot last week for various items: mosquito spray, ant poison, drill bits and safety rails for the toilet. That last one we are hoping will help Samuel potty train. We figure if he has something to hold on to, he will feel more stable and relax and well, you know, go. Fingers crossed, hoping and praying.

While in Home Depot, I couldn't find the toilet safety rails so I asked a nice older gentleman employee, explaining it the best I knew how, "Excuse me sir, do you have an accessory for the toilet with handles?" He looked at me a little perplexed and thought to himself and said, "Yes! For disabled?" And before I knew it, my spirit dropped, just that fast, that one word snapped me like a twig. "Disabled" He had no clue it was for my six-year-old son. I'm sure he thought it was for a grandparent or someone elderly. But no, my baby boy is categorized by the world as "disabled". That word has haunted me. See previous posts here and here.  I don't avoid it. I just don't think about it. I love Samuel for Samuel and don't focus on his abilities or lack there of.

We followed the nice gentleman to the toilet department and as soon as Gabriel saw the safety handles he excitedly exclaimed, "Mamma!! Samuel needs that!!!" He was so excited for his big brother. He has seen our struggle, Samuel's struggle in the potty training department. He encourages Samuel to go potty and has even helped his big brother in the bathroom himself.

When we got home, I was still dealing with my feelings of blah, I don't even know what to call it. Funk. Mood. Depression. Introspective-ness (I know that's not a word, but you get the point). But Gabriel, he was excited to put those handles on the toilet for his big brother. He tore that box open, ripped all of the hardware and metal out and went to town trying to put it together.

My children have taught me and continue to teach me a lot about life. In this lesson, Gabriel faces the obstacle head-on with excitement. Better yet, he doesn't even see it as an obstacle. He sees Samuel for who he is and tries to help him. That little boy amazes me. He knows exactly how the world views his big brother and yet he loves tenderly and strives to unite and help. I've seen him on the playground around other typical children who don't know how to play with Samuel, he teaches them too.

So in my introspective-ness, honestly, I haven't come to a new conclusion. That word still stings. "Disabled". How about "differently-abled"??  Samuel has so many abilities. Discernment that's out of this world. Love that bubbles through his smiles and hugs. A sweetness that I've never seen. Just to name a few.



So I guess that is my conclusion. We don't need to change. The world needs to change. Our family is only labeled "disabled" because we are different from the norm. But our uniqueness is beautiful. Don't get me wrong, it gets crazy and is extremely draining physically and emotionally. But we have some glorious moments that typical families never experience. I can't even explain it. And only few know of which I speak. To those few in our lives, thank you. Thank you for sticking it out with us. You too are differently-abled, unique and beautiful and strong yourself. Digging your heels in, pushing through the screams, tears, poopy diapers, puking, falls, spills and pills. I can never express my deep gratitude enough. I pray you are blessed far more than you've blessed us. And that's immeasurable, pressed down, shaken together and running over.

"Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.” -Jesus
Luke 6:38