When trials and difficulties come, we often think of Job. Job was someone who lost everything and was still faithful to God. I read the entire book of Job, probably for the first time, when we received the diagnosis of our youngest son, Kyle. I was about 4 months pregnant when we found out the baby I was carrying would have Down syndrome. At that time, I focused on the last chapter of Job where we are told that God blessed the latter part of Job’s life more than the first. For all the pain and grief I went through at that time, I always held onto the fact that Job received more blessing in the latter part of his life. I prayed that as I obeyed God, He would grant the same to me.
In many ways, as I have gotten to know Kyle, I believe God has blessed more since Kyle was born. Kyle has taught me more about compassion and perseverance than what I would have understood without him. He has shown me that happiness and contentment do not depend on a high IQ, and he demonstrates God’s unconditional love. But, I have to be honest to say that life with Kyle is not always easy. He has many challenges, his biggest one being speech. Kyle has apraxia of speech, and while he is able to say a few words (most of them only recognizable by family members), he is not able to carry on a conversation.
When Jim died, I was given a book written by John Piper based on the book of Job. As I studied that book, a different verse stood out to me. It was Job 42:5. “My ears had heard of You but now my eyes have seen You.” I’ve learned that as we go through difficult times and we lean on God for the very strength to put one foot in front of the other, He reveals Himself to us in a new and deeper way. I have experienced that very thing. My relationship with God is much more intimate than it ever has been.
Jim and I did not discuss what would happen if he died very often, mostly because I was uncomfortable with the conversation and wanted to hold on, with everything that was in me, to the plan of a bone marrow transplant and full remission. I think, in hindsight, Jim came to grips with the fact that he could very well die far before I ever did. I do remember a conversation we had one day last November when Jim was so very ill. I asked him if he thought he was going to die and if he was fearful at all. He told me he had no fear of dying. He knew his destination was heaven. But he was sad that the dreams we had planned for our life together would die along with him. Tears welled up in my eyes and I blurted out, “What would I do without you?” I went on to tell him that the two older boys would grow up and leave and I would be left alone with Kyle. Then I said, “And he doesn’t even talk!”
Jim did not say anything. He just looked at me with tears in his eyes.
Fast forward to today. Today was another day where I just haven’t been able to get moving. I have the whole day to myself to get caught up on things and accomplish whatever I put my mind to and I’m just stuck. I have spent far too much time on the computer waiting for the hours to tick by so I can go to bed and start over tomorrow. As I sit here the tears come again and the loneliness overtakes me. It is painful. Sometimes I miss Jim so much.
Then I hear something. It’s Kyle. And he is singing to a children’s video that he loves. For some reason, even though it's difficult for Kyle to talk, he is able to sing some things and he seems to be able to sing easier than he can talk. Today I listened to him sing loudly and freely, “Oh, the blood of Jesus; Oh, the blood of Jesus; Oh, the blood of Jesus; that washes white as snow.” Then the music transitions to another song: “God, you’re so good. God, you’re so good. God, you’re so good. You’re so good to me.” Words I needed to hear right that very minute from a little boy who, in spite of all his challenges, praises God with all that he is.
A. maz.ing. How like God is it to speak to me through my son who can hardly talk.
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