"For it was you who knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.”
Excerpt from Psalm 139
Over 36 years ago, my oldest son was born and we named him Matthew, meaning "God's gift." When I was carrying Matthew in my womb, it never occurred to me that he would be anything less than a perfect child. It was only a matter of boy or girl, would I see my husband's red hair reproduced, or how brilliant and talented would this child be. Our son was born with mental retardation, a scenario I had never anticipated. When we finally were given a diagnosis after two years of wondering, I pretty much believed life as I knew it (happy, carefree and full of blue-sky days) was over. Part of that was true, as is true for any new parent, but little did I know the richness and wisdom Matthew would bring to my life and to lives of all who know and love him.
Every May, Matthew goes off to Handicamp, a special summer camp sponsored by HandiEvanglism, a wonderful ministry to those who have disabilities. It is a haul to get him ready, drive him to the other side of the state and then repeat that journey five days later. It is especially tiring for me during these last weeks of my school year, and I must admit to grumbling about this effort. But every year without fail, I sit in the audience and watch him sing, sign, act, use puppets, and the tears start rolling down my cheek. Every year, I think about those early predictions a doctor made for his life coupled with my own gloomy visions, and I marvel at the life he now lives and enjoys. I am proud of my son, who he has become, and how he chooses to live his life. What more could any mother want?
Excerpt from Psalm 139
Over 36 years ago, my oldest son was born and we named him Matthew, meaning "God's gift." When I was carrying Matthew in my womb, it never occurred to me that he would be anything less than a perfect child. It was only a matter of boy or girl, would I see my husband's red hair reproduced, or how brilliant and talented would this child be. Our son was born with mental retardation, a scenario I had never anticipated. When we finally were given a diagnosis after two years of wondering, I pretty much believed life as I knew it (happy, carefree and full of blue-sky days) was over. Part of that was true, as is true for any new parent, but little did I know the richness and wisdom Matthew would bring to my life and to lives of all who know and love him.
Every May, Matthew goes off to Handicamp, a special summer camp sponsored by HandiEvanglism, a wonderful ministry to those who have disabilities. It is a haul to get him ready, drive him to the other side of the state and then repeat that journey five days later. It is especially tiring for me during these last weeks of my school year, and I must admit to grumbling about this effort. But every year without fail, I sit in the audience and watch him sing, sign, act, use puppets, and the tears start rolling down my cheek. Every year, I think about those early predictions a doctor made for his life coupled with my own gloomy visions, and I marvel at the life he now lives and enjoys. I am proud of my son, who he has become, and how he chooses to live his life. What more could any mother want?
I am proud of him too....
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