I recently had the pleasure of being interviewed by Bob West, founder of NeedProject.org, an organization that provides practical resources and support for families with special needs children and adults. We discussed a wide range of topics covered in my book Toppling the Idol of Ideal: Raising Children with Hidden Disabilities that will be of interest to parents coming to grips with the realities of raising a child with hidden disabilities.
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I serve a God who heals. Some of my friends are the kind of people who travel internationally to proclaim God's word and experience first hand miraculous signs and wonders, dramatic healings that defy science and glorify God. I know God heals, yet my child who has now reached adulthood is still at home, struggling with anxiety and depression to the point of being disabled in some seasons. Yet she is a delight to my heart, and a huge help to me at home. We press in for healing, utilizing medical intervention as well as prayer, but in the meantime we trust God is good, all the time. He walks us through the valley of the shadow of death, not around it.
We miss the passage in Hebrews about the heroes of faith that says some women received their loved ones back, while others were sawed in two! Granted, the context of the passage refers to persecution for faith, but the truth can be generalized. Those families cried out for deliverance too, just like me. There are those crying out to God for an outcome as good as mine. There are those crying out to God for an outcome as good as yours. Perspective is everything. In the midst of our most drama filled years, I would call my friend who adopted a sibling group of four with their propensities toward addictions, counseling needs and brain chemistry challenges. I used to tell her I called her to gain perspective, but that she needed to call a Thai tsunami victim to do the same! No matter what our battle, He is there to walk each of us through. One thing I know, neither life nor death, rage attacks, humiliations, incarcerations, surgeries, or school expulsions can separate us from the love of God. Psalm 23:4, Hebrews 11:35-40, Romans 8:38-39 Toppling the Idol of Ideal Raising Children with Special Needs The stats are changing. It’s no longer just the rare family who has the autistic child we read about in some magazine article or see on television. Behavioral issues in our children have catapulted out of the realm of child raising and psychology and into the realm of neurobiology and psychiatry. Whether resultant from neurotoxins in the environment, dietary criminals or some other etiology, more and more families are receiving diagnoses of ADHD, autism, or other legitimate neuro-psychiatric disorders. Is the church late in constructive response? We may be unintentionally too quick to offer counseling or deliverance with no real grasp that neurology is not necessarily a spiritual problem and definitely not a parenting problem; it’s brain chemistry. This leaves Christian Moms and Dads potentially susceptible to the myriad of uninformed voices, voices that decry the pharmaceutical industry as evil drug pushers for profit, and voices blaming lack of quality parenting for most if not all behavioral challenges. It’s not sympathy that’s needed, but rather hearing from somebody who “gets it”, somebody who can discuss practical issues like fighting despair, judgment, and educational challenges, deciding about medications, labeling our children, IEP’s and 504 behavior plans. Perhaps most importantly, what is needed is not only assurance that our children will be alright, but that we will survive intact spiritually while grappling with why me, why us, and why my baby? If you are that parent, You will enter into a new season, a season of discovery that launches you from a battle-weary position dodging the fiery darts of the enemy, to a position of protection reclining in the strong tower of God’s abiding presence. When my son was in the first grade, his classmates were mostly accepting and his teacher understanding. Yet my son’s vocal and motor tics caused him to find ways to compensate. What does even a young adult do to compensate when accidentally making an aberrant noise in a room full of peers? Some blush, some wish they could go hide in a hole, while others make light by offering a joke about barking spiders or feigning their neighbor’s guilt. I think one has to be at least thirty before possessing the poise and grace to just say “Excuse me” without a second thought! And that’s for just one infraction, not infractions that happen repeatedly, every single day of their lives.
My son’s school psychologist came to observe in the classroom and witnessed clowning behaviors. The psychologist’s assessment included the judgment that my son was an attention seeker. Really? Exactly the opposite was the truth. Comic behaviors in the midst of tics are to conceal the tics, because the more controlled gross and fine motor movements become for an aging child, the more obvious unwanted movements become. And what’s worse, sometimes the tics themselves can be humiliating. For a painfully prolonged several weeks, my son had a complex motor tic slamming his fist into his groin in a knock out punch. He neither enjoyed this or thought it was funny. He was mortified, humiliated and in pain. He could blush, go hide in a hole, or make light of it, all the while dying a thousand deaths as a school psychologist further assassinates intentions labeling my son as attention seeking. These mischaracterizations tempt us as parents to go Mama Bear on our children’s overseers. A level head with aim for advocacy is wiser. I pretend that we are all on the same team, and all believe in my son as much as I do. Visualization is a powerful tool. Loyalties are created through offering grace when communicating how observers are getting it all wrong, terribly wrong, by using face saving heedfulness. There are times this takes as much self discipline as we used when our obstetrician told us “Don’t push!” and we wanted HIM to die a thousand deaths. This is our battle to fight, and when battle lines are drawn, the more warriors you retain on your side of the chalk line, the better. First pediatrician: Our pediatrician fancied himself capable of diagnosing and treating brain chemistry. He prescribed my preschooler Adderall for ADHD symptoms. On this medication, she body slammed a plate glass window in a fit of rage because she could not choose between two pencils in a cavern gift shop. We were accustomed to her rages, but there was something characteristically different as she sustained a five hour tantrum (much to the amusement of the guards) on the floor of the Air and Space Museum in Washington DC. My call to her doctor yielded instructions to double her medication. I fired him instead. He later abandoned his wife, children and medical practice, running off with a Russian pen pal. At a loss and completely ignorant, my husband and I began to devour literature on ADHD. Our wonderfully brilliant child could barely function! When tested for Kindergarten readiness, I was told my precious baby, already reading fluently and casually doing division in her head, cried, disengaged, and curled up in a ball “acting autistic”. Rather than gaining admittance into the private school of our choice, my daughter received a psychiatric referral! Without a clean bill of health, our child was unwelcome. First psychologist: He was Jewish, which was funny considering what happened next: my child chose to draw for him the Christian plan of salvation with satan basking in the burning flames of hell, complete with the cross of Christ bridging the gap between earth and God’s throne in heaven, illustrating the substitutionary redemptive death of the Messiah. He asked us how long we had been sexually molesting her. (????) That wasn’t a very positive first visit. We were not devastated; we were rightly outraged. He did not bother to get to know us to determine our character. Instead, he determined that the structure we put in place after reading on ADHD was actually the causative agent for our daughter’s maladies. She received the coveted “clean bill of health”. Life proved differently. I am happy to report that after these misadventures, we actually received valuable help. My point however, is this: TRUST YOUR INSTINCTS. Get educated, eyeing preconceived ideas, even your own, with suspicion. Use health professionals to augment what you are learning, to partner with you as you discover what is best for your own children. Reject what doesn’t fit. Nobody loves or knows your baby like you do. The church has bought into a lie. It’s a distinctly Western lie, one that’s intricately intwined into our benefits based Christian faith. We protest loudly when we suffer the harsh realities of life, realities like our own mortality, or the mortality of those we love, or flesh based laws of inheritance, or we become victims of an unjust and corrupt system. Our pleas before our living God can become like fetishes we rub for favor, with no real submission to the God we claim to serve. What is our response when our child is born with differences that reflect poorly on us, our genetics, or our parenting? It’s one thing to adopt a child with brain chemistry or developmental problems, but it is quite another to physically birth one, or even several. What is our response beyond the horrific dark abyss of grief when we lose a child? What did we actually mean when we surrendered our child to God in the first place? What we meant was never surrender, but actually protection unto perfection. Anything less is perceived as a breach of promise, and a crisis of faith ensues. On a flight this week, I sat next to a Chinese college student with Christian heritage. She marveled that her grandfather was a believer throughout the Revolution, wondering why he did not lose his faith. I suspect that during that season was when a truer faith was born, a mature faith with abandoned need to control, a faith that lacked the demand for an explanation. The result of fire in our lives is solely dependent upon our own constitution, not the source of that fire as being from heaven or hell. The same fire that consumes stubble, purifies gold. I respect the fortitude of a widowed 90 year old man who, as a result of his moral convictions, choses sexual inactivity. However, if I met a young man in his twenties who managed to keep himself pure based entirely on his decency, I would be far more impressed. Why? The young man's self control is more of a challenge.
There are those with brain chemistry challenges who manage to hold their lives together. Are they getting the extra respect that should be afforded them? If someone were to say to you, "I'm bipolar" or "I suffer from chronic depression" and their lives are not in chaos, would you only hear their diagnosis, or would you actually be impressed by the strength of their character? Our children with differences may actually be trying multiple times harder than their peers or siblings, only to be subjected to repetitive corrections for not quite reaching the set level of expectation. They watch others who may expend very little effort receive accolades. They cry FOUL with attitude in the midst of their demoralization. Like the Na'vi line from Avatar, we must "see" our children. Respect the effort and progress, not just the standard when doling out praise. Brain chemistry challenges are hidden disabilities. With a label, your child will be judged more fairly by your family, and by your child's overseers. Those labels give you search terms to find a community of prevailing parents and a wealth of enlightening information to aid you. Even more importantly, however, labels open the door to accommodations and services for your child.
My daughter is brilliant. Those three hours of homework I spent every night during her elementary years working through screaming rage attacks to get her to jump through the same hoops as her peers was completely unnecessary and relationship damaging. She laughed in Kindergarten relating how her classmates were learning "A: ahh" when she was speed reading Shel Silverstein comprehending the sophisticated humor of placing a brassiere on a camel. But Kindergarten was hard... it required complex tasks like standing in line and interacting with others. We actually had this conversation. I became empowered when I figured out I had the right to mold expectations and requirements for my daughter in her school setting through 504 behavioral plans and IEPs. Without the labeling of diagnosis, your hands are tied. |
About MelanieTwo of our three children have Tourette's Syndrome as well as a few other co-morbidities, inherited neuropsychiatric disorders. I'm still happily married, love life and want to share encouragement bringing hope, humor and insight into the process of raising children who are different. Archives
February 2022
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