Blessings in Disguise

You know that time in your life in your early twenties when you're pondering life and wondering what your purpose is in this world? It seems you have more time to spare than you know what to do with, and you're searching for that A-HA! moment to send you in a direction. I remember that time very clearly. Going from interest to interest, feeling empty, wanting something but not sure exactly what that was.

Flash back to 1973. Ms. Lilly was my babysitter the first four years of my life. As a porcelain artist, she was often engrossed in her handiwork, and sometimes her eyes were not always on the three or four kids she was charged to watch. One day her daughter Deborah made a fun game of chasing the children around the yard. Deborah towered over us toddlers like a giant, and her lumbering non-rhythmic gait made her unpredictable. I remember hiding behind Ms. Lilly's apron, then she would gently tell Deborah to not chase us any more.

Then there was mild-mannered Brian who rode my bus in middle school. The other boys picked on him, and I despised them for it, but I didn't know how to react. I've always felt guilty that I was frozen to react or defend Brian.

Other than these two people, who I am certain provided profound changes in perspective for their families, I never knew anyone else who was "special." But like most folks, when you are on the outside looking in, you have difficulty getting past the exterior and looking at the person. This had been my perspective, until 13 years ago.

Now, every time I look at my daughter, I think, "Yes, this is my purpose. I remember." I have to be honest, sometimes that thought is followed by, "Lord, help me." But then I smile and look at Bekkah's face. When she's sleeping I still see the tiny, fragile baby we brought home from the hospital. In a lot of ways, she's still that innocent child. Other days, well, I wonder how on earth she comes up with some of her ideas. She knows more than I give her credit for, and when you think she's not paying attention... well, look out, because she'll surprise you. The diagnosis of Down syndrome was terrifying at first and a bit overwhelming. Once we got through the shock and into the stage of accepting the facts, we were able to open our eyes to who our daughter was and who she could become.

Bekkah is the most loving and forgiving person I've ever known. She'd rather offer the olive branch first than have you be mad. She's never met a stranger, and her hugs are limitless to whoever needs them. She was meant to be in my life and to be my purpose.


But I wasn't counting on how absolutely undeserving I am of that purpose. She is my gift.


For anyone who has ever known the unconditional love of someone with special needs, you'll know what I'm talking about. For those of you who don't, I am sharing my gift with you. Stay tuned.