Don't Let the Storm Be in You
Get rid of all bitterness, rage, and anger…Ephesians 4:31
Only the fool among us would think this journey free from any kind of bitterness, rage or anger. We are too human, too frail, too broken by what has transpired to suggest we can easily dispatch such powerful emotions.
Our child is less than whole. Our dreams for him and for our life are shattered. Our future stretches out with more uncertainty than we can imagine. The holes that have been punched in our plans, in our future, in the very fabric of our day-to-day lives make it easy for every kind of emotion to spill into us.
Our spirit, our heart, even our faith is put at risk, threatened by such as bitterness, rage, and anger.
But we must not let them win. They cannot be allowed to overtake us, to become the defining traits of our character. We must not permit them to squeeze us in such manner as to make of us an empty, dried out husk of what we were before this child arrived.
Buried in the line from St. Paul’s letter to the church at Ephesus is this abiding truth: You can be a in a storm. You don't have to let the storm be in you.
This is a truth that we as the parents of disabled children must hang onto, claim for ourselves and live out in the days and months ahead.
Make no mistake: Life with a disabled child is a storm. It’s a big, angry, dark storm filled with pelting rains and rolling thunder and frequent lightning strikes. The winds blow long and hard and threaten to peel away our hope, our peace, our faith. The rains threaten to erode the foundations of our life, our human existence.
We find it easy to lose our way in such darkness.
But if we strive to keep the storm on the outside, we find it possible to navigate such tough times. By taking hold of the promises of God, by letting the very hand of the almighty take us, shape us, guide us and our child, we can keep the storm out rather than letting it well up within us.
It’s not an easy or a carefree time. The road will never again come easy. The storm will come and go in its ferocity. So we must always do what we can to keep the bitterness, the rage, the anger far from us. They are emotions that have no place in our lives and they can not be permitted even the smallest of footholds within in our hearts or spirits or even our words.
When you find even a hint of them, dig them out by the root, cast them far, and see to it that you flee from those who would encourage you to make them a friend.
Only the fool among us would think this journey free from any kind of bitterness, rage or anger. We are too human, too frail, too broken by what has transpired to suggest we can easily dispatch such powerful emotions.
Our child is less than whole. Our dreams for him and for our life are shattered. Our future stretches out with more uncertainty than we can imagine. The holes that have been punched in our plans, in our future, in the very fabric of our day-to-day lives make it easy for every kind of emotion to spill into us.
Our spirit, our heart, even our faith is put at risk, threatened by such as bitterness, rage, and anger.
But we must not let them win. They cannot be allowed to overtake us, to become the defining traits of our character. We must not permit them to squeeze us in such manner as to make of us an empty, dried out husk of what we were before this child arrived.
Buried in the line from St. Paul’s letter to the church at Ephesus is this abiding truth: You can be a in a storm. You don't have to let the storm be in you.
This is a truth that we as the parents of disabled children must hang onto, claim for ourselves and live out in the days and months ahead.
Make no mistake: Life with a disabled child is a storm. It’s a big, angry, dark storm filled with pelting rains and rolling thunder and frequent lightning strikes. The winds blow long and hard and threaten to peel away our hope, our peace, our faith. The rains threaten to erode the foundations of our life, our human existence.
We find it easy to lose our way in such darkness.
But if we strive to keep the storm on the outside, we find it possible to navigate such tough times. By taking hold of the promises of God, by letting the very hand of the almighty take us, shape us, guide us and our child, we can keep the storm out rather than letting it well up within us.
It’s not an easy or a carefree time. The road will never again come easy. The storm will come and go in its ferocity. So we must always do what we can to keep the bitterness, the rage, the anger f
ar from us. They are emotions that have no place in our lives and they can not be permitted even the smallest of footholds within in our hearts or spirits or even our words.
When you find even a hint of them, dig them out by the root, cast them far, and see to it that you flee from those who would encourage you to make them a friend.
Welcome to my special education teaching e-portfolio. This website will highlight my work throughout the journey of completing a Master’s in Education with an emphasis on Cross-Categorical Special Education through Grand Canyon University. Born and raised in diversified learning environments relocating to New York and Puerto Rico, from public education system to post-secondary education to graduate (e.g., Catholic to Christian education) natural to choose Grand Canyon University to complete a Masters of Education Cross Categorical Special Education as my stepping stone for being as lawyer.
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