Seeing is believing

I had a two-hour meeting at school last week going over the results of the full evaluation that various psychologists, therapists, doctors, and educators had done on Travis.

You know what’s fun? 

Sitting in a room listening to fifteen other people tell you everything that’s wrong with your child.

It’s not that these evaluations aren’t helpful.  I completely understand and support his teachers who need to know his weaknesses and strengths in order to best support him through his educational program.  I think it’s important to know that he has good receptive skills and that his expressive skills could use a little work.  It’s just that when I’m on hour two of being on the receiving end of that pitiable look, it gets to be a bit much.

I have been known to cry at these meetings. 

I learned a few years ago that biting the inside of my cheek until it really hurt keeps the tears from falling and helps maintain an outer semblance of composure. 

Last week as I listened to more and more words like “extremely low functioning” and “borderline intellectual disability” and “multiply handicapped” I felt the familiar sensation that indicates that my emotions are about to spiral. Not wanting to appear like I was the one in need of a psychological evaluation,  I grabbed a pen and started taking notes on what they were saying, not because I thought it was information worth keeping, but as a mental distraction more than anything.

And then my pen took on a life of its own, and a thought found its way through the ink, and this is what I wrote.

For those of you not proficient in reading serial killer chicken scratch, I wrote “I don’t see it – I see Him”.



When I wrote those words, I was trying to inject a little encouragement by reminding myself that I didn’t see the disability, the damage, weakness and struggle.  I just see Travis, my beautiful son whose laughter opens my soul to joy and whose love has profoundly changed me.  But as I was hurriedly writing the thought on the sheet, God was writing a different word on my heart.  You see, I didn’t mean to capitalize “him” because I was thinking about my son.

But God was thinking of His daughter.

I see Him.

Where the world sees lack, I see His abundance.

Where the world sees he can’t, I see He can.

Where the world sees disability, I see His great ability to radiate grace and love and compassion and mercy and strength through the countenance of His children.

I don’t know what brokenness you have in front of you today but I can tell you that God is found there in a beautiful way. Sometimes it takes opening our eyes a little wider or waiting patiently, or changing the angle of our view to get a brand new perspective on His redemptive work.  He is there and all we have to do is look and see and and know that He is majestic and loving and powerful and sovereign and good.

Oh, so good.

Others see Travis.

I see Him.

Have a nice day.

16 responses to “Seeing is believing

  1. Oh, Sus…How clearly I see Him, too. In you. Love you so.

  2. How beautiful! In reading your blogs, you are a big inspiration to this reader
    Love you—Jackie Madon

  3. Susie, That was a great blog- to help keep all of life in prospective- we need to see HIM. Thanks for sharing your life! You have such a great way with words and insights to life.

  4. I know I’ve said this before, but this is why you are Travis’s mom. You see him through Him. This view, God’s view, the view that you have reminded us of is what helps me see my own kids in the right perspective. Enjoy your day, and your son!

  5. Your whole family radiates Him! I’m grateful to know y’all!

  6. I know I have talked about my son before with you and I agree that those meetings can be so disheartening but like you, I know my son better than anyone and despite his many challenges, I truly wouldn’t have him any other way because he is a gift, even in all of his “disabled” ways. Unlike you, I have trouble grasping the compassion of God and His view, not so much related to my son, but related to another heartbreaking series of events in my family’s lives – one in which He seemed to be so very absent. But I am still grateful for the blessings he has bestowed on me and my son is one of the greatest.

    Thank you for sharing your stories –

  7. And I see Him when I read your posts, too. As long as you’re not writing about your sewing projects, your latest adventure in the kitchen or your effort to accessorize your living room! Ha! Ha! Not really….I see Him all over your wonderfully interesting life! You are truly a testament to His grace and goodness. Keep on living to His glory. You’re doing a might fine job so far!

  8. Profound and beautiful. Travis and his momma both exude the LIFE we have in Him. Love you friend and thanks for sharing.

  9. Beautiful!

  10. He knew exactly what He was doing in sending Travis to you….giving Travis exactly the right Mom!

  11. I love this. You shine such a bright light!

  12. amen amen amen. Sjoe, needed this today, thx. Struggling w new placement for my special son now. (12 yrs old) I’m thankful for the specialists, but they don’t understand… but God knows and He’s in control.

  13. Beautiful post, CPQ.

  14. Good for you, Susan. And I know it’s not about you, it’s about Him, but still—you’re doing good, and I think it’s okay to tell you that. God knew what He was doing when He gave your boys you. 🙂

  15. I agree with Kecia! You are an amazing mom. And I love how you articulate your feelings. Keep on keeping on, Sister!

  16. I read this just when I needed to hear these words. We sat through an IEP meeting and when we shared the results with a teacher friend we were told “they had never seen an IEP set that low”. Of course I know that tests are tests and are not a total picture of my child. They certainly don’t always reflect God’s hand in his life. Thanks for the reminder today too look past the world’s label to the giver of life and purpose.

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