Editor’s note: We encourage our readers to share their experiences and perspectives, because we learn from each other, and by sharing, we can build up the body of Christ. Sometimes those perspectives differ markedly from articles we publish, from other material we share online or from presentations at in-person events. If an opposing viewpoint is articulated in a thoughtful way, whenever possible we will make space for our audience to see the other perspective. The article below is an excellent example, and we are pleased to share it with you.

Beginning long before the Key Ministry post titled “Elmo is Not Your Friend,” our family has wrangled daily with the challenges of our son’s mixed maturity. My conclusions differ from those of Ms. Myers, and this post is intended as a friendly response to her perspective.

Mark didn’t ask for much for Christmas—mostly Pokemon and Paw Patrol.

Mark is 13 1/2, and developmentally delayed.

Within hours of Mark joining our family, his dad and I realized his developmental level differed greatly from his chronological age. He was 10 years old by traditional reckoning; however, his emotional maturity, impulse control, academic and social functioning, and expressive language abilities were more like a pre-schooler’s. His interest in shows and toys marketed to the Disney Junior crowd concerned, even scared me.

I was new to being Mark’s advocate. New to being his mom. And new to a sea of questions that threatened to drown me with hopelessness:

Why isn’t he embarrassed by a 6-year-old telling him Paw Patrol is “babyish”?

Why are his emotional responses so immature—and in some cases wildly inappropriate?

Why doesn’t he understand the difference between fantasy and reality?

Is he stuck at this developmental stage forever, or are we just 5+ years behind? Which was just another way of wondering… Will he live with us forever?

As the shock of the adoption wore off, his dad and I devoted extensive time to reading about all sorts of adoption-related special needs, and how to manage them. Eventually we concluded that on-level exposure was not a limitation we placed upon Mark, but a stable and safe opportunity for him to have the hope of growing to the next level.

The objection we received to grouping Mark with developmentally-similar peers may sound familiar to many reading this: “He needs to be with the kids his age so he can learn to act like them.” Sometimes people use 1 Corinthians 13:11 to support this approach. But the verse doesn’t say that “putting away childish things” caused Paul to become a man. Instead, it says that when he became a man, he then possessed the maturity to act accordingly.

For many delayed kids, forcing them to “swim in the deep end”—socially, emotionally, or academically—would be equivalent to feeding a three-month old a steak and expecting her to digest it. Not only does feeding her milk not prevent her from eating steak one day, feeding her steak too early would prevent her from digesting milk, as well. Thus, supporting a delayed child’s interest not only doesn’t prevent growth and maturity, but expecting him to function among so-called age-appropriate challenges could actually deprive him of the chance to grow into those very same stages later.

For three years we’ve lived with Mark’s “mixed maturity.” Now at 13 1/2, he both perplexes and amazes us. He enjoys talking if the subject is his choice, but struggles to meaningfully participate in real-life conversational topics. His impulse control and attention span have improved, but not enough to sit through a short church service. He still can’t differentiate between fantasy and reality; we wonder if he’ll ever be a candidate for a driver’s license since his proposals include “we could just jump the car over the water.” He says he likes “science,” but he still loves Paw Patrol, too.

If the measure of successful parenting is Mark’s eventual independence, we might give up now. There are no guarantees. Instead, we find encouragement in 2 Timothy 4:2 which asks us to “be ready in season and out of season.” We are to “exhort [him] with all patience.” And our hope is in Matthew 6:34, in that “tomorrow will worry about itself.” Our call is to be faithful with the child in front of us today.

The unspoken message behind both 1) placement with similar-age-peers and 2) putting away Elmo is that age-appropriate behavior is the universal goal. But for some of our kids, that goal stretches into unattainable, like the line on the horizon. We can do everything in our power: visit all the doctors, do all the skills practice, endure all the therapy, discourage all the childish things...and still end up with a dependent adult. This doesn’t stop us from “pushing:” we challenge, we reorient to reality, and we encourage more mature interests—like a telescope for Christmas, instead of another Pokemon game. But we don’t equate childish interests with suppressing potential. Even while we “push,” we permit “Elmo”—in this case, Paw Patrol—to provide our little guy with a base of friendly security, from which we hope he grows as he’s able.

I wrapped Mark’s telescope with Paw Patrol paper. Chase and Marshall may even accompany our family on astronomy adventures twenty years from now, and that’s fine by me.

“Jane” is the adoptive mom of “Mark” who has several medical and developmental special needs. She and her family live in the southeastern United States, where their passions include adoption and foster support, counseling, and Braves baseball.