“We have a child with special need, and God called us to the mission field.” If someone had said this to me 16 years ago, I would have seriously questioned whether they had actually heard from God. Just being honest here.
But 15 years ago?… Well, that’s when those words came out of my own mouth.
If you’re reading this, I’m guessing those shocking words may have come out of your mouth too.
You either moved to the mission field with your special child, you gave birth to a child overseas who later was given a diagnosis, or you adopted a child with special needs. No matter how or when your child joined your family, you currently find yourself serving in missions while also serving your child and their unique needs.
Can I just encourage you for a second and give you a hug with my soul and tell you that you are AMAZING? Don’t tell me you’re not!
I say that because the odds are, you feel like a train wreck lots of days and on other ones, wondering if you’re doing the right thing, living how you are with your child how he or she is. I know I did.
I also felt like I wasn’t doing enough…heck, that I, myself, wasn’t enough. And I was full of questions. (And to be real, sometimes, still am!)
God, did you make a mistake in entrusting her to me? So and so would have done such a much better job as her mom. And how will she get her needs met here, on foreign soil, where there are almost no services and so many stigmas?! Did we do the right thing in bringing her here?
As God so often does, he has answered some of my questions and left others in the “someday” category. But he has always, always been with us every step of the way.
Along the way, as we raised our own child with special needs and also served other families like ours, I’ve identified a few things that have marked our journey and may be a part of yours as well.
1. This was not the life I expected.
I mean, is life ever really what we expect it to be? And I don’t mean that in a negative way. I mean it in all kinds of ways. Bigger, smaller, brighter, darker, harder, easier, funnier, sadder, earlier, later, crazier…the list goes on.
Life constantly surprises us.
The thing about surprises is that we’re never ready for them. That’s why they surprise us.
Another way of saying surprise, that acknowledges the ones that feel less party and more tears, is the word shock.
Life has shocks, too. Lots of them. They hit hard. They take our breath away. They sit us down.
When they arrive, they feel bad. Sometimes really bad.
But the beauty and wonder of our God is that some of the hardest things in our lives can turn into the most meaningful. The hard may never go away, but unexpectedly, in enters the door love and joy and purpose…and even fun.
I mean, I even homeschooled our daughter for three years! Just another one of those “nevers” God laughed at. But you know what? It did end up being pretty fun, so I joined him in the laughter.
Our mighty God can turn a story of shock into one that also holds surprise.
2. The guilt and shame try and sneak in everywhere.
We served on the ground in Lima, Peru for 10 years, a place where massive stigmas around special needs exist.
The culture around us told parents of kids like ours that this was their fault––our fault.
While we were so grateful to serve in a church that was passionate about famiies with special needs in a powerful, counter-cultural way, it was not so for those in the surrounding culture.
When we hosted a retreat for parents of kids with special needs, our team heard heart-breaking stories and feelings.
I know this is my fault. If only I hadn’t…I had…
I hide our child from our neighbors, because they look on us with disdain…
My child was treated horribly at school by teachers and other kids, so we just keep him at home. We have for years.
My family blames me for what happened to my child. I blame myself too.
There are days I feel so angry at my child for this life I now have to live. And then I feel so guilty for feeling that way.
Sometimes churches can be the best places for families like ours…but sometimes, they can be the hardest places—whether abroad or in our passport country. Instead of comfort, they unintentionally load on shame: asking us to dig for hidden sin, pray harder, declare more verses, or live holier so our child will be ‘healed.’ That pressure can crush a parent’s heart.
I hope that is not your case. I hope that you are surrounded by people who affirm your child as bearing the image of God and as called to a life of purpose as anyone else.
But if not, let me remind you that God did not send us the Holy Spirit to fill us with guilt or shame, which cause us to hide from God, as Adam and Eve did. The Holy Spirit came to convict unbelievers of sin but to convict us of righteousness.
You are the righteousness of God in Christ Jesus! You are washed by Jesus’ blood and made whole. You are a child of God, and God invites us to walk into his throne room with confidence in who we are in Christ.
Lift up your head! Leave your hiding. With your child’s hands in yours, step into the light and let shame and guilt fade away into the dark hole of hell where they belong.
Yes, I’m a bit passionate about this!
3. You will feel torn, and that doesn’t mean you’re doing it wrong.
You want to serve God with your whole heart, and you want to care for your child with your whole heart.
Yes, we’re called to do both. Yes, they can feel like they are competing with each other sometimes.
There are days when you want to holler at all of the people you are serving to leave you alone, because you feel like your ministry work is keeping you from giving your child the care they need. And there are days when you want to holler at your child because their needs feel like they are keeping you from doing what you came to the field to do.
(And then the guilt and shame start to creep in again. Remember, you banned those guys!!)
The tension is normal. You feel it in other areas of your life, why wouldn’t you feel it here too?
Your need for sleep can compete with your desire to get more done. Your need for healthy food can compete with your need for things to be quicker, easier, and simpler. Your need for healthy friendships can compete with your need to finish all your work. Your need for cleanliness can compete with your family’s need for fun and play.
So, do we just give up? Or live in constant anguish, feeling like we are always failing?
We have to choose to live in the tension without being tense.
Balance isn’t real. We’re always a little more to the right or the left of center. Priorities shift depending on seasons and challenges and situations.
We just have to decide which things can’t shift below center for more than a moment.
As adults who hear from God, I’m not going to tell you what those things are. You ask Jesus, and I can guarantee you that he will show you.
Living in the tension just means that every day, we’re asking God to help us live into what he’s called us to do that day to the best of our ability. We need him. We always will. And knowing that? It’s a good thing.
4. Grief and gratitude can live in the same breath.
Thank God for the movie, Inside Out. It taught so many of us that choosing one emotion isn’t rejecting all others. It shows us that we can be happy and sad…at the same time!
So many Christians mistakenly think that to grieve is to reject gratitude.
How can I be sad when I look at all God has done for me?
Because you’re human. That’s what we do. We feel things in complex ways.
To grieve the loss of the life you imagined for your child––and for yourselves––does not automatically mean you are rejecting God or ignoring His goodness in your life.
When our daughter turned 18, it hit me all over again in a way it hadn’t since she was born. I had learned to understand her life as a child with special needs, but as an adult? Childhood has an end. Adulthood continues on until death. What would she do with her life? Would she be happy?
Most parents experience an end to childhood and adolescent parenting as they enter (at some point) an empty nest phase. When she turned 18, I thought, now what? And then I thought, I want to be an empty nester someday! But I never will…
I sobbed for her and I sobbed for us. And I also once again gave thanks––deep thanks––for her miracle life. I remembered how the doctors told us she would never live…never be able to read…never be able to speak a second language…so many nevers. She proved them all wrong.
My tears of aching sadness mixed with my tears of overwhelming gratitude as I offered them up as a sweet sacrifice to Jesus of both trust and a cry for help. He accepted them. He’ll accept yours too.
5. There is joy, too. Deep, surprising joy.
If you’ve done this for a bit, you know this one too. And if you haven’t, the joy is coming.
Sometimes joy slips in through the side door, even while grief is still sitting in the living room.
Our kids can be hilarious, even when they’re not. Some of the things our daughter has said or done? Oh my word, she’s made us roll on the ground laughing.
Sometimes the joy comes from sharing stories of the chaos with others, inviting them to laugh with you at the oddness of your life. Or being honest about some of your feelings and just being real with friends who get you. Or finding other parents like you who get this wild “club” we are a part of!
Sometimes the joy is in watching God provide in ways you could have never imagined.
Sometimes it’s in watching your child’s life impact someone else’s. In watching God’s purpose flourish in them in ways you didn’t know were possible. In helping someone else find their purpose as they serve your child.
Sometimes it’s in watching your other children, formed in your house where they learned how to love those who are different than them, and then teaching others to do the same.
God is always full of surprises. The ones we know are good from the beginning and the ones that get really good along the way.
The truth is that if God has called you to the shocking-to-others-and-maybe-also-to-yourself life of living on the mission field with a child with special needs, then that is exactly where you––and your child––are supposed to be.
Let me just encourage you to not go at it alone. When we went overseas 15 years ago, I didn’t know any other families like ours. That’s no longer the case. The support exists. There are others on a parallel path.
Reach out. Let’s walk this wild, holy road together.
Recently, on the Modern Day Missionaries podcast, I interviewed two couples like us. Take a listen and take a first step (or the next step) toward getting stronger in your journey.
Friends, I am proud of you!
What It’s Really Like to Raise Kids With Special Needs on the Mission Field
Stephanie Leigh Gutierrez is the missionary care manager at Modern Day Missions and the host of the Modern Day Missionaries podcast. She is a life and leadership coach and spiritual director, and is a former missionary and pastor who served for 12 years in Peru. Stephanie and her husband are marriage speakers and co-founders of Footrock, a nonprofit organization that hosts retreats for Spanish-speaking pastors and missionaries.
