Low.
Low.
Low.
Extremely low.
Moderately low.
Extremely low.
These are the words I read from my son’s psychological testing report. They were the scores that he received for several types of academic and psychological testing. It wasn’t anything I didn’t already know.
As Thomas’s mom, I am very aware of his needs, and as a former special educator I knew exactly what each one of the scores represent. Although, the scores didn’t just describe my son's testing outcomes, they also expressed my levels of energy, joy, and hope. I quickly scanned my eyes down the document hoping that just one of the testing categories might read average.
I threw my phone on my bed. I already know what my son can’t do. I live with him and experience it daily but seeing it spelled out over and over was more pain than I could tolerate in that moment.
“I need to finish reading.” I thought. I had only made it to page 9 of 22. I look at my phone lying face down on my bed and know I don’t have the bandwidth to finish reading.
At the time, my son was in a psychiatric day hospital program. To me that meant one of my children was going to school 35 minutes away in one direction from our home and the other was being driven to a hospital 35 minutes in the opposite direction. My husband and I spent over two hours each day driving to and from these locations to give my children the best education and support we could afford.
I was exhausted and any extra thing placed on my plate felt like the final tipping point. I pushed aside the heaviness in my chest, picked up my phone and headed out to take my daughter to school.
“You have an IEP meeting in two hours, and you need to be ready to fight for what you need.” I say to myself.
Romans 8:26 paraded mind.
“Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words.”
I felt that. Those words are not just words on a page to me, they are a reoccurring feeling. It is astounding to know the Lord intercedes on my behalf and provides comfort I can’t otherwise find on this side of Heaven.
I dropped my daughter off and pulled out of the school parking lot. As soon as I pressed on the gas, the heaviness vigorously returned with crashing waves over my body. I tried to pray, but just like Romans 8:26 says, I could not find a way to form words. “Help,” is all that came to mind as tears trickled down my cheeks. I needed the Lord to intercede.
“Text the ladies. You need help right now Katie, text them.”
God formed an amazing group of women in my church that I call on when I’m in need. They’re not special needs moms and they don’t have a degree in disability. However, they genuinely love my family and the Lord. They are the ones that drive my daughter to church when we’re in crisis. They drop off coffee and pay to get my laundry cleaned when we’ve spent nights navigating incessant meltdowns. Sometimes, they come over and just sit. They’re the ones I text, “please pray,” and they know exactly what that means.
I took out my phone and asked Siri to send them a text message. I try to clearly speak through my perpetual tears and close the message with, “This is gut wrenching, and I don’t know how people do this without Jesus.”
My family isn’t the only family impacted by disability that desperately needs to know Jesus. When I don’t have hope in the doctors, therapists, or my own strength I find hope in Jesus—the one that created my beautiful son…and the one who knows exactly what our son and family needs.
Individuals and families affected by disability need to hear the gospel too. At The Banquet Network, we equip churches reach, serve, and include people impacted by disability through free consultation, training, and more! If you’re a church and you’re interested in working with us, go to thebanquetnetwork.com/interestform to request coaching. We would love to work with you!
Katie Matthews is the Executive Director for The Banquet Network. For more stories like this one, go to our blog page, or click to connect, learn or donate to the mission of The Banquet Network.