Time

Yesterday during tea time, we were reading out on the back porch and H. was drawing with chalk as I read. H. is often drawing, so didn't think much about it. Later that evening, J. points to the back porch and asks who drew the picture that was there. Because I paid so little attention, I had absolutely no idea. L. confirmed it was H.'s drawing. I can't believe I hadn't noticed this...

I pretty much love everything about it except that it is done with sidewalk chalk in an area which receives heavy traffic, so it won't be there for too long. 

H. has always been drawn to color, even at her most stressed and disassociated. In the back of my head, in moments of optimism, I would wonder if she might not somehow become an artist. At that time, the whole thing seemed more than far-fetched. It was like my own personal fantasy that I would sometimes get out and ponder. Between this and some of her other recent art work, it doesn't seem quite so far-fetched to me now.

Now, before anyone hauls out the old, "You're so amazing," line, just put it right back where you keep it. J. and I had nothing to do with this. Any talent that H. possesses is purely her own; a gift from her Creator who doesn't make mistakes. What J. and I did was to get out of her (and God's) way. (Sometimes. I'm not perfect, and there were certainly more than a few instances where I did get in the way with my own agenda of what I was convinced she needed to do and when.) We gave her time.

Time to feel safe.

Time to catch-up on all that she had missed.

Time to be her emotional age even though her chronological age was years older.

Time to figure out who she is and what she likes.

Time to play.

Time to understand what it means to be part of a family.

Time to express genuine emotions.

Time to feel unconditional love.

It is all of this that gives space for a person to become truly who they were meant to be. It isn't about the academics, though I'm thrilled H. can read and do arithmetic. It isn't about what she can do at all. It is much more about discovering who H. is... and H. figuring that out for herself as well.

I listen to some parents of children with challenges, and I am baffled. Sometimes they are so concerned with things that don't seem to matter, such as, "How will I do high school with my child?" I really want to reply back, "Huh?" because it doesn't make sense. If your child isn't able to do high school level work, don't do high school. Work where they are at. If that means first grade, then do first grade. It just doesn't seem that complicated. But somehow high school has become such a significant part of the culture that may people seem to forget that it is just four grades of formal schooling. (And this rant will have to be saved for another day, but personally I find much of high school to be rather a waste of time.) If your child is doing first grade work at age 16, then I'm pretty sure a high school diploma doesn't need to be on your short list of worries. It all boils down to forcing the child into the system instead of creating the system for the child. Actually, it just all makes me a little sad that an artificial system can hold such sway over how parents view their children.

Don't let some outside entity define your child for you. Give them the space and support to become who they truly are. And if that doesn't happen on an artificial time schedule, then take a deep breath and keep on meeting your child right where they are because that is clearly where they need to be at this very moment.