amazing

When my youngest son was born, we were greeted by all the plethora of standard congratulatory salutations. But there’s something when a child is born with a disability that threatens to damper what should be none other than a celebration… “Yes, I’m humbled and thrilled at the birth of my child and God’s incredible creation — but I have to change my expectations. This isn’t the life I had planned… not for him… not for me.” I didn’t say that. But I thought it… often.

And no doubt due to the totally penetrating grace of God — even when I am clueless — I quickly realized that the blessing of Josh was no less than any other. He was amazing — just the way he was… just the way he is.

While I got there emotionally — with my dear family and friends who “came along” — it was soon apparent that not everyone else in contemporary culture gets that. There was the geneticist who referred to the day of Josh’s birth as “the saddest day of your whole life.” There was the one resident, callously mumbling after a broken finger that it “wasn’t like he’s ever going to play in the orchestra or anything.” And there were the many who made well-intentioned stabs at encouragement by saying Josh could grow up and “get a great job” bagging at the local grocery store.

I chose not to focus on those who weren’t where I was. I knew God was calling me to a wiser perspective… that it was not up to me to decide what my kids could and could not do. It was not up to me to dictate. It was not up to me to focus only on the perceived end results. It was, however, up to me to celebrate who my son was, how God uniquely wired him, and to encourage him to grow.

Josh is in 8th grade now. (Careful — he thinks being the oldest grade in school is akin to something close to “king.”) But as one who has watched his older brothers thrive in one of Ohio’s premiere show choir organizations, Josh decided last week to try out at the junior high level.

Truthfully, I was a bit skeptical at first. The bar is high, and it should be for such a talented organization. But if I was completely transparent, I would also acknowledge that I was weary of the time commitment required on my part — early a.m. practices, multiple week night practices, and all the supervision necessary, so as not to add more to the director’s already, admirably full plate.

 And so we spent Monday – Friday last week at show choir tryouts… up at 5:40 a.m., getting Josh ready, grabbing breakfast, downing the protein, and out the door by 6:30 in order to arrive at least 15 minutes early. We also practiced each night at home, worked on his dance moves, his vocals — with Dad and big brother joining along.

Let me add that initially, Josh didn’t comprehend the idea of a “try out.” He assumed everyone made it. I was worried about that lack of realization — that is, until Thursday, when on our way, he prayed, “And God, I know you have my back, whether I make it or not.” 

 I loved that.

So each morning the 80 some adolescents worked on the newly taught choreography. They danced as a group before the director and judges. I was there in case Josh needed anything. His teacher also graciously volunteered to come in early multiple days, helping with any supervision. (She is excellent — love our community!!) Then on Friday, it was Josh’s turn to actually sing before the judges — only 10-20 seconds. All students sit still while only one sings.

From this semi-humble parent’s vantage point, Josh’s singing was excellent. His enunciation was a little off — maybe his tone a bit, too — but nothing took away from the beauty of his words. As for his dancing ability, he was a half second or two behind on several of the synchronized moves; sometimes, too, he turned in the wrong direction, but he got it. That boy can dance!

Let me briefly share that Josh didn’t make it. I have great respect for the director, so please, no sighs; we had a great week! Let me also share, though, what I learned…

I was first reminded of that perspective I believe God desires us to have — to celebrate who each of our kids are, how God uniquely wires them, and to encourage them to grow.
Second, I learned that we often put too much emphasis on the end results; the process — and the growth in that process — is without a doubt, beautiful.

And lastly, I was struck most by Josh’s own words — words that are true. Loudly and proudly, with all others sitting and listening, my sweet son, Josh, sang the chorus from “Just the Way You Are” by Bruno Mars…

“When I see your face
There’s not a thing that I would change
Because you’re amazing
Just the way you are.”

Amazing. Smiling. Just the way he is. Again, it is he who teaches me.

With great joy…
AR