Hello there.
It’s been a while.
I’ve missed you.
It seems I have lost my voice for a couple months.
Both literally, and figuratively.
On the sidebar of my blog, in the description about me it
says that “I can see the forest through the trees”.
I should qualify that -– I usually can.

As with all forests, there are trees present. Sometimes those trees are big and they are
right in front of your face and it makes it very difficult to see the forest
through the trees. They discover that they can make themselves taller by cutting other
people down, they suffocate roots systems around them to promote their own
growth. Sometimes those trees are uncomfortable with the presence of special. They treat that as a non-native species in their forest.
I have had a couple of large trees standing right in front
of my face and it has made it difficult to see the forest through them. In your special forest, you will come across those big trees. What are yours? Is it part of your IEP or “team”? A critical
person? A part of the diagnosis you have to face? A place that you try not to
face? What is the big tree that you find
obstructing your view? Is it there just for a moment, recurring or ever present? Or is it a combination of trees – smaller in trunk size,
perhaps, but pressing their bark point blank in front of your eyes? In talking to friends, I have found this common element in special - I have discovered that everyone in the special journey has very similar trees
What is it for you that make it hard to see the beautiful
view of the forest through the trees?
Recently someone spat some darted words to me, “God did not
call you to this.” Complete with the forefinger pressed to thumb pointing at me
in emphasis. I sat there stung so deeply
with my breath sucked from me that I couldn’t even find my reply.
Tree.
The very next day, on four separate unrelated communications
with no knowledge of my previous above encounter, came the exact words through
email, voicemail and personal encounter – from friend, personal acquaintance
and stranger alike saying, “God called you to this!” The last came with a long, extended hug which
felt that it was heaven trying to press those words back into me.
Forest.
And so the cycle goes in the special journey – forest view,
tree, forest view, tree. . .
The tender mercy I am continually given and one that shows me that God
cares so much for these precious children with special needs and those that
care for them, is that every time there has been a big tree standing in front
of me, (sometimes with an intimidating ax lying next to them) – EVERY time I
encounter that, God has followed those moments with an exquisite view of the
forest and urges me to keep going, that what I am doing is a needed work in His
forest.
I felt that message again this Christmas season as I was
asked to be the guest speaker at an event for women. It was a fundraiser for Jill’s House, their
biggest of the year, with a couple hundred potential donors in attendance where
they typically raise a couple hundred thousand dollars in that one single
event.
At the conclusion of my
remarks, I looked up to see a wet-eyed lady in the middle of the audience
pounce to her feet in dramatic applause.
The rest of the audience followed.
I was a little embarrassed – I certainly hadn’t anticipated a standing
ovation. But it was Heaven putting the
exclamation point to the message, “Your voice is My gift to you, and I need you
to use that gift.”
The most flattering comment
came from Fox News Channel anchor, Shannon Bream, who was in the audience. She came up to with the biggest hug and told
me that my words had her on the edge of her seat. What? A professional journalist was hanging on MY
words? Pure love, humility and gratitude washed over me. Message from Heaven received.
I received other wonderful,
kind and intimate comments from individuals after the event was over. Each conversation finished with a hug and an
exchange of a Christmas sentiment. Each hug
was a reminder of the miracle of the season.
It is a miracle that I have a Savior, who was born to take upon Him not
only my sins – but to take upon Himself my pains, afflictions and infirmities,
which, this special journey has
created plenty of. He was born to help when the
trees in front of me seem too large for me to see through.
I have been an emotional slosh
this Christmas season as my understanding of that miracle continues to grow. There hasn’t been a single day this month that
I haven’t seen the view of the forest and not had my eyes start leaking down my
cheeks. It is beautiful. It is a gift to see.
My voice has returned along
with my ongoing invitation to walk along side me. I can see the forest through the trees and the
view is more beautiful when I have someone to share it with.