Last week was quite a week!

I always struggle to write here after I've shared something deep and vulnerable. I've been truly bowled over by the encouragement I've received since hitting "Publish" last Tuesday. Some of it can be seen on my Facebook page, with more than 20 comments there. Here's a sample:

"You're not alone. Thanks for sharing your experience and heart."

"Wendy, I didn't know. I'm so sorry you've had to walk this journey."

"Thank you for posting this . . . We all face many challenges in our lives and families, and we need to know we aren't alone."

"It's also a struggle that doesn't end with children growing up and leaving home."

    [Yes, I know. I've had one son in Australia right through the pandemic who hasn't had an easy time. It's been hard to watch him at times.]    

A friend shared this beautiful prayer:

Father of all Compassion, God of healing and hope, I pray today for those who suffer deeply within their minds, naming particular friends and family before you now.

Prince of Peace, minister most gently to those who are closest to you because their hearts and minds are broken. Speak ancient words that silence storms. Break stigma, isolation and shame.

Wonderful Counsellor, Spirit of Shalom, renew the wisdom of those who care and the resilience of those who share their lives with vulnerable people. Wherever there is a ‘spirit of despair’ please pour out the ‘oil of gladness’ today in unexpected moments of joy.

And so, may the love of the Father, the grace of the Spirit and the mind of Christ himself prevail in our world.

Amen            ~ Pete Greig

People wrote comments on the actual blog post too. And I've received in-person hugs as well as several private messages. It's been a bit of an overwhelming response.

It was a bit of an interesting week last week, actually. The week before I'd been struggling with not being busy enough (and with David being away on a school trip and no little kids to look after, and a bit of lull at work, plus rain meaning I couldn't go riding). I had that horrible voice in my head: "You're a bit useless Wendy, not much good at all." It was in the context of all that that I both saw that Facebook comment that first made me angry and then propelled me to write.

David and I celebrating our 25th wedding anniversary a 
few weeks ago.

Then, after having hit publish last Tuesday, I had people telling me that I wasn't useless at all. That I'd given them a voice when they didn't have one. That in itself was an encouragement.

I had a friend who I mostly know online (we've met once). She's followed my exploits and what I've written for many years now and specifically reminded me of many of the things we've done to invest in our boys (e.g. reading to the boys at dinner, camping, games nights, sport etc., plus working hard at drawing closer to each other as parents).

I also, independent of writing that blog post, I found some more of "my people": a group of expats in Japan who also have "special kids". I cried as I told them an abbreviated version of my story. Though I've told parts of my story to quite a number of people now, I don't always cry. But to tell it to others who know what it's like to struggle with hidden (or not so hidden) disability with their kids, in a land where they aren't natives, was powerful.

I also had another coffee time with a friend who is going through a different kind of parenting struggle and she wrote to me later with encouragement about our conversation. She also specifically assured me that I am certainly not useless!

So, it was quite the week.

But it's just a step along the journey. We're by no means finished this long road of parenting, and I don't think this side of heaven we ever will. But if my story can help encourage others along the way, then I'm doing the right thing: helping others by using my gift of writing true stories. If I can encourage you to tell others about the secret struggles you are having, then I'm also doing the right thing. 

Let's not be ashamed of the less-than-perfect lives that we live: none of our kids are perfect and none of us parents are perfect. But we can do the best we can in the circumstances we find ourselves in. And if we are Christians, we can keep our eyes fixed on our heavenly Father, who never leaves us, and indeed goes before us.