The Journey

The boys are well into their new school year and I am learning to embrace the quiet that comes with them being in school. The silence is no longer deafening, however it can be a little uncomfortable. It's been rather eye-opening for me these past couple weeks, as I am discovering things about myself and about my journey that I never noticed before. So, today I thought I would share some of those things with you...

A couple days ago, I was talking with some people about life and how fast the boys have grown and all of the typical surface type conversational topics. At some point in the conversation, one person was talking about the hardships of raising a child who has been affected by Special Needs. She was sharing about the emotional roller coaster she's been on and how tired she is. I gave an empathetic response, and she said to me, "You don't really understand. Your boys are great."

That comment felt like a sucker punch to the stomach. I didn't know how to respond. I didn't know what to say to her. I don't understand?!? She is right, I don't understand her exact situation. But, boy do I understand the emotional roller coaster. I understand the sleepless nights, the fear, the confusion. I know first hand the grief that comes with facing a diagnosis, with knowing that my child will never be like the other kids. I couldn't quite pull my internal thoughts and feelings together in time to respond to her, but it stuck with me...

In my almost 37 years of existence, I have experienced a lot. And, although I tend to put up a façade in public (because not everybody needs to know my struggles), it's been a wild, crazy and tough journey. I wake up every day in pain from a stupid thing called Fibromyalgia. I have been waking up that way for over 20 years now. The struggle to get to the shower is real EVERY DAY. No one sees it because by the time I am dressed and ready for my day I have done what I need to do to pull it together. But that doesn't mean I don't understand what it's like to struggle daily in pain and exhaustion.

I have experienced grief in a multitude of ways. I have lost three grandparents. I have lost a daughter. I have mourned the loss of the life I thought Tyler would have because of Autism. My life has been torn apart by the unexpected actions of a friend. These are all things that my journey has brought.

There have been surgeries, sickness, and other health issues. There has been counseling and spiritual direction. There's been doubts in my faith, doubts in my marriage, and certainly doubts in myself. To this day I struggle with the doubts in myself.

And when it comes to parenting, the journey is NEVER easy. Just this morning, I snapped at my seven year old over something really insignificant. I made him cry. And as I hugged him and apologized, I felt like the worst parent ever. I don't fully know what other parents are going through. But, I know their journey is tough in their own way.

I guess in all the rambling I am trying to get to the point... In a way, the woman was right. I don't really "understand" her exact situation. But what I do understand is that this journey is hard. And my hard, although different from yours, is HARD. To me. And your hard is hard to you.

Rather than spending our time finding the differences in our hardships, I think life would be easier if we could find the commonalities. Grief is grief. Betrayal is betrayal. Pain is pain. Although the situations differ, the gut wrenching, heart breaking, defeating feelings feel the same.

The old saying about walking a mile in someone else's shoes might not be possible, but it certainly is possible to take a step back and try to hear someone's heart and their story. For me, listening to moms talk of the struggle to get their one or two children out the door on time tends to lead me to thoughts of "you should try having four!" That's NOT what I should be thinking. Rather, I should be thinking of ways to encourage them. Because in that moment, their journey is hard.

My journey has been hard, and it continues to be hard. The hardship leads to empathy and a true understanding of how others feel. YOUR journey, being full of hardship, leads you to a place of understanding as well. We can take what we have experienced, what we have felt, and use it to support others. We can use it to build people up, rather than to compare and make others feel like their journey isn't as hard as others (when to them it is the hardest thing they've ever experienced).

Listen to people... Listen to them share about their journey. Share in the emotions, the feelings, the pain and grief, and joy and excitement. EVERYBODY is on a journey. Let's spend less time comparing and more time supporting. Let's care less about who has had a tougher life and more time focused on how to make other lives better.