As the New Year begins, we are often bombarded with messages encouraging us to aim high, make big resolutions, and do more. But as parents—especially those navigating disability—this approach can feel overwhelming. Instead of striving for lofty goals, what if we embraced the sacredness of small steps and new beginnings? What if we allowed ourselves the grace to parent differently—in a way that meets the unique needs of our families and honors the season we’re in? For many families like mine, Sunday mornings don’t look like they “should.” We are navigating multiple invisible disabilities—diagnoses like autism, ADHD, anxiety, and more—and we’ve had to embrace flexibility, creativity, and sometimes just letting things go when things feel too hard
When God redeemed my worst Christmas ever by using it for good, it came as a big surprise. Most likely because 1982 was the year of my worst Christmas ever, and the using it for good part didn’t come along until December of 2024. 42 years is a long time, which explains my surprise.
Seasons help us to realize we’re not alone. We might still feel alone but we can see things differently and then change our thinking, and even our responses. We know everyone goes through “stuff” but sometimes we need to recognize it just happens to be our turn. The harder part is that we still have someone we are caring for full time, 24/7 added to the new hard stuff!
For families like mine, with an autistic child and my own ADHD and anxiety, Christmas is rarely “calm” or “bright.” In fact, it is often loud, noisy, and overwhelming. Our children get overwhelmed by the lights and the new items. We, as parents, get overwhelmed by all the mess and noise. There are so many sensory inputs flowing through that you feel like you are in a never-ending vacuum of noise. And, that doesn’t even take into account that I’m operating on just a few hours of sleep after leading multiple Christmas services as a pastor.
Ruth saw a bright future for herself. She didn’t have an exact plan in front of her. But at 18, she vaguely knew what she wanted in the future: a master’s degree, a husband, a job she enjoyed, and children. Emma was on another path altogether. When Emma turned 18, she was already enrolled in a school for students with more significant disabilities.
This year has required endurance. There were many stressors in 2020 that individually would have been difficult enough for most people. There have been several events this year that have led me to cry out for things to be different, normal, or better. Yet in prayer, I have felt God ask me one question: Are you ready to endure even more?
I recently spent some time in the book of John and read anew the verses where Jesus asks us to remain in Him. In John 15:4, Jesus says, “Remain in me, as I also remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me.” As the waves of 2020 crashed against me, they tossed me out of my remaining posture. Time and again I found myself worried, questioning, and lamenting outside of the vine where I was to remain.
As I sat down to share life with fellow special needs parents in this blog, it occurred to me that the best I might offer was a shared prayer for the upcoming holiday season. Perhaps you, too, are thinking out of the box about how to make the most of new and unexpected holiday dynamics. Together let’s pray, Lord, make our homes an instrument of Your peace.
