I’ve been cheating on you. Only because I really want this space to be focused on Trevy and what it means to love a child with a catastrophic epilepsy diagnosis. But I’m a mommy of more than one, you know. So I’ve been keeping a whole-family blog elsewhere. A place where I can let my homeschool mommy hair down. And think about things other than seizures and brains and drugs. Sometimes the content overlaps the purpose of both. Like the post below…
As this school year is nearing an end…
And I’ve started prepping for the next. Rabbit Trail alert: Have I mentioned that I still can’t believe I’ll have two at home next year?! This from a girl who swore she’d never homeschool her kids. Isn’t He funny? Lately, I’ve found myself dwelling and mulling over my desire for them. The purpose of our choice to educate them at home. Academics are important. And central to the focus of our homeschool. But my desire for my children is more than Math. And such a scary joy it is to have such a deep level of influence over little hearts.
Trevy played his 2nd baseball game on Sunday. Bristel begged to go too.
Watching Trevy play baseball isn’t exactly fun. Although the cute factor is huge. But the truth is…he doesn’t have a clue out there. It’s takes a lot of (sweat inducing) work just to get him to keep his little glove on his hand. For more than 2 seconds in a row. It’s the complete opposite of watching his big brother (who hit his first homerun the other night!) on the field. His big brother who at the same age Trevy is now was not just playing baseball like a big kid, but was teaching little Tanzanian children how to play the great American pastime.
Trevy is very cute. Very sweet. Very beautiful.
But he’s also very broken.
(I believe we all are. Trevy’s sin-scars are just more visible to the world at large than my own. I believe that our true, complete Healing is waiting with Jesus in Eternity.)
He’s not a typical baby brother. He doesn’t talk like a typical baby brother. Though we are all becoming fluent in Trevy-ese. He doesn’t play like a typical baby brother. Though he will swing for awhile beside them. He doesn’t behave like a typical baby brother. It can be a little embarrassing when he goes all crazy-happy (think: puppy) to see you in front of your friends.
He needs more love than most. He needs a brother and sister who cherish him and his silly crazy-happy ways. Who support him. Help him get dressed and up the ladder to the slide. And cheer for his successes. Who will take him by the hand…and with love and patience walk beside him through Life.
All these things were tumbling around my heart on Sunday as I watched her reach for him. With no mommy prompting.
And I haven’t stopped thinking about it ever since. How the deepest educational desires I have for them really have nothing at all to do with Math…