accept the gift…

Rewriting the story of a child who has Down syndrome has indelibly etched its chapter on the soul. With fresh eyes, one sees the best and the worst of society…the least and the greatest…..the veil has been lifted and who we are as a people is illuminated through those we downwardly view through the pathetic lens of worldly “perfection”.

The flimsy jewel of intelligence, beauty, acceptability, and usefulness is smashed on the single altar of this…..the Giver’s unexpected gift….the unforeseeable gift. The gift that requires the seeker to really see, earnestly look for, faithfully uncover.

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In thoughtlessly tossing away the gift of a soul who doesn’t fit our presupposed notions…we slap the face of the Gift Giver, depriving ourselves of the opportunity to breathe in beautiful new vistas previously unknown.

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And while we rage at the Gift Creator for bestowing this uncertain path, our hearts are blinded from the things we have yet to experience. For how can we know the tomorrows in the today? How can the life path we expected be fully understood before it is traversed?

In our vast misunderstanding of the Giver, fears loom large…expectations for the life we firmly desire are indented with our fingertips. Muscles strain as with one hand we hurl back a heart that He knew would point us Light-ward, and with the other…we grip our own imagined, glimmering future… engorged with our heart’s desires.

Little can we grasp that what we eschew is the remedy. That sometimes our deepest fears transform into the One’s greatest individual stories.

For you.

For me.

For all.

What we beckon and encircle is what our souls become.

If only we tilt our ears towards heaven….and listen….we may hear the whisper of the child who might be….

“Don’t be afraid,” she lilts. “Take my hand,” the softness of his small fingers on your cheek.

His rosebud lips. Her almond eyes.

You didn’t choose the journey. The Chooser gifted this glorious journey to you.

 

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Accept the gift.

grant me this one request….

It’s October 1st and October is Down syndrome awareness month!
 
Let me share a bit of my past with you. When I was a teenager, I was very involved in the pro-life ministry at our church. We would go to the local abortion clinic in Bridgeport, CT and do sidewalk counseling with the women who were entering the clinic. We would offer to pray with them about their decision, we offered practical help, options for them and their baby, diapers, clothes, classes, anything they needed….ongoing care and support through their pregnancies and after the birth of their child.
 
We offered options for them other than abortion. We truly cared for the mother and the child and we cared what happened to them.
 
Being on the front lines like that at a young age, I knew a tremendous amount of information about the bitter reality of abortion. Every Saturday, we would stand out there, rain or shine, freezing cold or bitter heat…and we’d pray…and sing…and counsel. Sometimes, as we sang, we could see the women peeking through the blinds to watch us. Sometimes our singing would draw them back down, back outside, back to us….back to life for their child. The ministry saved hundreds of babies’ lives, and helped SO many women throughout the years.
The front lines…that’s what it was. We were the last stand between life and death for those children.
We were passionate about LIFE for these children.

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In high school, I was a cheerleader…yes, hard for ya’ll to imagine…haha…but our principal’s daughter had Down syndrome and she was a part of the cheerleading team. We all just adored her and she was the brightest, happiest girl. The basketball fans roared their approval when she’d do the end cheer with us lifting her up or she’d slide her way to the front of the orchestrated cheer. Everyone adored her. She was a beloved and accepted part of the school.
We didn’t think anything differently of her. We just loved her.
 
Because of my pro-life involvement, I decided to write a research paper about abortion for one of my high school projects. In my research, I discovered that a very high number of unborn children who have Down syndrome are aborted….just because they have Down syndrome. I was stunned. I knew people who had Down syndrome and I loved them. They were happy, loved, attending school, living their lives in their own sweet way.
The day I read those statistics….I had a request…. with tears in my eyes, I prayed a sincere prayer. “God, when I grow up and get married, please let me become pregnant with a child who has Down syndrome, because it’ll mean one fewer child that will be killed.” And I meant it with my whole pie-in-the-sky teenage heart.
Now, God didn’t answer that prayer. Not in the way I asked it. Does He ever?
None of my biological children have Down syndrome and it wasn’t even anything I was thinking much about when we started the adoption process.
But God….
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And so here we are.
And here he is, a miraculous part of our family. Lian’s name means “God has answered”.
It still gives me goosebumps because this was the name the orphanage gave him.
How?
How does this happen? How does God take a prayer from decades ago and answer it in this glorious way?
He takes our desires and transforms them as His own…He takes our dreams and consecrates them into His holy plan.
Who knew that He was preparing the way in my heart for the moment when this child’s life would be forever entwined with ours.
I still shake my head in wonder. I still pinch myself. I still look at him and marvel that he’s here….this package of wonderful, extra, mischievous chromosomes.
Let’s celebrate the fact that these beautiful people are in our lives, making us see God more clearly through their sweet spirits and amazing journeys.
Two years ago, on October 30th, Lian was placed in our arms. I am grateful and humbled beyond words to be a part of his story.
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Micah 6:8
“He has told you…what is good…and what does the LORD require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?”
Let’s just do this.
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And so it is.