It's Not Broken

Some of you know that Dia has issues with her blood sugar levels.  It's pretty serious some days but there are other days, when we've got the whole diet figured out to a science for a week or so, where I can get lulled into a sense of denial and convince myself she's cured. When her body proves to me otherwise and I have the horrible and often painful wake-up call that she has not, actually, miraculously outgrown this, I always have a sense of grief about it.  I wish so much for her that she could just be like other kids.

But because my God is particularly humbling, He has provided me with friends who can't ever lull themselves into such a state of pure unadulterated denial even temporarily.  Their children's conditions are not ever going to give them that luxury.   On the days when I'm feeling sad for Dia (or for me) I'm often provided the reality check that we don't actually have a very big challenge to face after all.

Sabra is one of these parents and she has a wonderful blog that I've mentioned before and that you really should follow if you aren't already. In a late April entry, she shared something Emma, her daughter, said about autism awareness "...yearn to understand that everyone with this reality is exactly who they are supposed to be."

I have Louise Hay's book on healing. Dia likes me to look up whatever hurts her and then she determines if the reason is what Louise Hay suggests (so, for instance, if her tummy is bothering her it might be due to fear of the new) and if Dia agrees that's what is going on, she takes a deep breath and says the meditation that goes along (again, for instance, "Life agrees with me. The universe holds my best interest at heart.").

Not long ago she had a bunch of aches and pains and we were going through the book, per her request. She had also gone high that day (sugars), so I took it upon myself to read her that one. Do you know what she said?

"I don't want to change that. My sugar problems are part of who I am. That doesn't need to be fixed because it's not broken, it's just different."

I didn't follow why she actually wanted this condition of hers and so I asked her if maybe it was because she liked having to have sugar sometimes.  (She gets candy or sweets periodically throughout the day when her sugars drop low.)

"No" she answered "not really.  But if that got fixed I wouldn't be me."

Huh. Who knew?

So I figure maybe these 'special' kids are - as Sabra so gorgeously described it - fearfully and wonderfully created by God just as He designed. Maybe we are even a little arrogant in thinking that they would rather be like the other kids as opposed to merely having the other kids accept them as they are.  And truth be told?  I don't think that's unique to them - I think every one of us would like to be accepted exactly as we are too.

KEC