For Holland

When Jesse was not even a year old I was trying to wrap my brain around words like “developmental delay”, “autism”, and “hypotonia”. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” I remember thinking. But you know what? In a lot of ways I’m the privileged one with an incredible gift. I read a sweet poem then that summed up a lot of the emotions swirling inside my heart. God has used my special needs son to teach me a thing or two. He is my Holland. Although hard, I’m enjoying this journey, learning about this space I never thought I’d be in. There is beauty here, and grace upon grace when you take time to see and understand someone else’s world. Here is the poem, ‘Welcome to Holland’ that I read a few years ago. Whenever I read it, my perspective shifts a little, allowing gratitude to grow as I take a deep breath, and persevere.

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Welcome to Holland

by Emily Perl Kingsley (1987)

I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability – to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It’s like this……

When you’re going to have a baby, it’s like planning a fabulous vacation trip – to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It’s all very exciting.

After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, “Welcome to Holland.”

“Holland?!?” you say. “What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I’m supposed to be in Italy. All my life I’ve dreamed of going to Italy.”

But there’s been a change in the flight plan. They’ve landed in Holland and there you must stay.

The important thing is that they haven’t taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It’s just a different place.

So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.

It’s just a different place. It’s slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you’ve been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around…. and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills….and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.

But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy… and they’re all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say “Yes, that’s where I was supposed to go. That’s what I had planned.”

And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away… because the loss of that dream is a very very significant loss.

But… if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn’t get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things … about Holland.

 

 

Grace upon grace,

April

 

 

 

 

 

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The Perfect Passover

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“It was just before the Passover Feast. Jesus knew that the time had come for Him to leave this world and go to the Father. Having loved His own who were in the world, He now showed them the full extent of His love.” –John 13:1

 

They wanted You dead

and You let them

take You away.

Questioned, accused, lies,

mocked, betrayed, beaten,

Crucified.

I helped.

The world was not worthy of such

a King.

You made this place Your home

for a little while

to reveal Yourself as the

Son of God.

You taught, You healed, You served,

You loved, You wept;

You obeyed God the Father.

“Hosanna!” they cried, “Save us!”

they pleaded.

Just as the Israelites selected an unblemished

lamb to cover their sins,

so God sent You, the Perfect Lamb

to cleanse our hearts.

Sin requires blood so You gave

Your lifeblood.

It is written, “The life is in the blood.”

Murdered. Resurrected. Redeemed.

Now we are made holy

because You were born to die –

To Save.

“Hosanna” was their shout,

Salvation is Your gift to me.

Hope lives

because Jesus has won.