Believe

I was just walking the field at the Back to School Bash when he ran past me. He was laughing uncontrollably. Running. Laughing. Hollering at his grandmother across the grass. He ran up and gave me a big hug and then ran off as fast as he came. He was having a blast. Is there anything better than just watching a kid have fun?

Grandmother came wandering over to me. She smiled, gave me a hug and then said, “You were right.” I had no idea. I asked her, “How do you mean?” 

“I talked to you one day,” she said. “We were waiting for him to talk. He was delayed and we were worried. I told you about it. And you said, ‘One day you are going to wish he would stop.’ Well, it’s here. I wish he would he would stop.” She said with a smile. She continued, “You told me about your son. And how long you waited for him to talk. That really meant alot to me.”

Truth be told...I don’t remember the conversation. I don’t remember her telling me their struggle. I don’t remember talking to her about it. I don’t remember any of the events that led us together or that led up to tonight. But there are some things I do remember. 

I do remember those therapists that said my son would probably never talk. I do remember being told to buy an $8,000 communication device that would speak for him when he pushed a button. I do remember being directed to teach him sign language. And I remember shedding a lot of tears thinking that he would never talk, never be able to go up stairs, or never be able to do so many other things that I watched other children do faster than him...much faster than him. I won’t ever forget the sleepless nights, all the times that I questioned God, and all the times that I wondered if he would ever be...what he would be? 

I took my family on a trip this weekend. A last little bit of time for us to spend together before school starts this year. And all day long...we lived in the swimming pool. He swam and swam. Jumped in. Chased shark diver bombs. Played games. Raced me across the pool. And talked until his mother and I couldn’t listen anymore. 

And that’s why, when she told me that story last night at the Back to School Bash, I couldn’t find much more of a reply than, “Amen.” She was “preaching to the choir.” I already knew. There’s no mistaking. Every day there is a reminder of how good God has been to us. And I’m going to share it...every chance I get. Why? Because there are so many people out there that need to hear it. For their children. And their grandchildren. And the children they teach. And all of God’s little ones...anywhere and everywhere. 

So as we go into this school year, my prayer is simple. When it is hard...when it doesn’t make sense...when you don’t know...don’t understand...and can’t see the future...don’t stop believing in those kids. And don’t stop believing in the God who loves them more than you do. There is nothing that He can’t do. There is nothing that any one of us can’t do because of Him. 

Whenever the thought crosses your mind that says, “That one can’t,” I pray irresistible, incomparable, undeniable faith that says, “He will,” or “She will.” Because, truth be told, every one of those children belong to a God who is defined by two things: First, a love for them that is far more than any of us ever could display and, second, a power over everything that none of us could ever understand. 

Who is there to say that any child can’t, won’t or shouldn’t? The answer is no one. Because there isn’t any one of us that isn’t loved by a God who can and will...no matter. 

So what I have to say from my experience is this, “One day...you will wish he would stop.” 

“Then he touched their eyes and said, ‘According to your faith let it be done to you;’ and their sight was restored.” Matthew 9:29