Amundsen House of Chaos

Let's face it, when you have a kid who survived a stroke, life is always going to be a little chaotic.

Saturday, March 20, 2010

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Clowns of God




I cannot tell you how many times I have prayed for Colby to be healed. To be able to do something like talk or walk again. To gain back the use of just one hand or a finger. To be able to say yes or no clearly. I have asked for him to be able to eat or for his stomach to just digest his medications properly. I have prayed for the muscle spasms to be less painful or to even just give him a break from them for one night of uninterrupted sleep.

Not one of them has been answered in the way I wanted. The only one that I can truly say was answered the way I asked for it, was for him to live. And even then I had to surrender him first before I knew he would. The things I have asked for have been for him but really they have been selfish. In truth they would make my life easier. I would be able to understand him better and wouldn't have to struggle to understand what his facial expression is or to understand what one consistent noise means over another.

Colby is happy. He gets frustrated but he has accepted his body more than I have. I don't think any mother gives up on finding the new cure or the new therapy that is going to make a difference. I know I won't. It's not that I don't accept his body it's just that I have hope that he will gain back some of his abilities and I continue to search for those answers. Through that journey though, I have had to learn to accept a higher plan than mine. I don't know if Colby's stroke was more for him or for others. I struggle to know if that can make sense to any one who doesn't have a child with disabilities or a major medical condition.

I'll probably continue to pray for things that are not a part of the plan. I seem to like to hit my head against a brick wall. But I will also cherish the small improvements he makes daily. I will love his laugh. I will hold him, comfort him and advocate for him when the way gets hard. I won't stop trying to help others see that he is just a child in a body that doesn't work the same way as theirs.

Here is a poem that was passed onto me that reminded me yet again that Colby is perfect just the way he is. I have no idea why it is called Clowns of God.


Clowns of God.
I know what you are thinking. You need a sign. What better one could I give than to make this little one whole and new? I could do it; but I will not. I am the Lord and not a conjurer. I gave this mite a gift I denied to all of you ETERNAL INNOCENCE. To you he looks imperfect but to me he is flawless, like the bud that dies unopened, or the fledglings that fall from the next to be devoured by ants. He never offended me, as all of you have done. He never perverted the work of My Father hands. He is necessary to you. He will evoke the kindness that will prompt you to gratitude for own good fortune....more....he will remind you everyday that I am who I am, that My ways are not yours, and the smallest dust mite whirled in darkest space does not fall out of my hand. I have chosen you, you have not chosen me. This little one is my sign to you. TREASURE HIM.








Here is a link to the newest donation button for Colby's fundraising account. This ebook is for fondue recipes.
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