Divine Encouragement for the Single Parent of a Special Needs Child
written by Julia Stewart
One of the things that makes my single parenthood especially challenging is that one of my children has special needs. As far as extreme special needs go, they are mild. Muscular Dystrophy so far has caused minor physical impairments. Most of her current special needs stem from being neurodiverse. But because of these behavior implications, and especially at a younger age, my child had almost compulsive impulses to dash away from me.
Now, some parents in the crowd reading this will say, “All young children have impulses to dash away”. And this is true. My oldest child, as a younger version of herself, also had such impulses. However, most children, as they age, begin to develop a sense of danger. They are curtailed in some ways by their own fears, or, in many cases, their healthy respect for outside forces that can hurt them.
Even now, in her double-digit age, mine is still developing this sense. For instance, most typical 8-year-olds don’t need their hand held from the moment they get out of the car to the moment they enter a building. Not so with my child. Any second I let go of the hand is a second when a dash impulse could carry my child directly in front of a car, or more mildly into another person.
Even when my husband was not in the best of health, we could usually team up to corral my special child. Between the two of us, we could deny her the three-step advantage she needed to get just outside of our reach at a full sprint. So, when I lost my husband, this issue was a concern. A very real concern.
Throughout my time in the hospital, while my husband was dying, I felt like God was whispering in my head, “For I am the Lord your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, do not fear; I will help you.” It remained with me even after there were no more visits to the hospital.
A few weeks after the funeral, I took my girls to a park near our house. They played on the playground for a long time, and we finally reached the point where it was time to leave. As is true for most young children, my special girl did not want to leave. But I was patrolling the playground to keep her from returning to the equipment. So, she took off running. With no husband to inhibit those crucial first three steps, she leaned just outside of my grip attempting to stop her dash. And she was off.
There was no human way I was going to be able to catch her. Directly in front of her was the parking lot. To one side, the potential to run into the maybe not-so-friendly dog. To the other, the potential to get lost in a sea of people. It was in this moment, in my despair of losing my spouse, in the realization of my inability to stop or protect my child, that I remembered what I felt God had whispered, nearly daily, to me in that hospital. So, I threw it up at Him.
“God, you said you would help me. I need that help right now!”
The second I finished my appeal to God, my child stopped in her tracks. It was as if someone had placed a hand on her tummy and said, “Wait here, child”. I didn’t even have to run to her. She stayed right where she stopped until I was able to walk up to her and take her hand. And if you know my special girl, even now, she is prone to creep when attempting to stand still. Not on this day. She remained precisely as she stopped until I arrived.
I took her hand. I felt helped, exactly as I needed it. And I thought on that day, maybe, just maybe, I could raise these two children by myself with God’s help.
Julia Stewart is a writer, storyteller, and composer who spreads hope and encouragement through her works. A single mother of two, a widow, and a caregiver to a child with special needs, she invites others to walk with her on a path toward God. By day, she works as a grant writer and planning and development consultant, striving to help others thrive. Through sharing her creativity and experiences, Julia wishes to inspire and support others on their journeys, too.
