Disabled

 How gentle God’s commands!
How kind his precepts are!
Come, cast your burdens on the Lord
And trust his constant care.

 Beneath his watchful eye,
His Saints securely dwell;
That hand which bears all nature up
Shall guard his children well.

 Why should this anxious load
Press down your weary mind?
Haste to your Heav’nly Father’s throne
And sweet refreshment find.

 His goodness stands approved,
Unchanged from day to day;
I’ll drop my burden at his feet
And bear a song away.

Bradley had his follow up at the pulmonologist this week.

The Pulmonologist heard some rattling in Bradley's lungs.

He prescribed a handful of meds.

He said he would treat Bradley acutely.

He said he was ordering a bronchoscope to see if Bradley's breathing stuff was right.

He just wants to check it out. Make sure all his stuff in his throat is right.

That there are no obstructions.

 I'm hoping it comes back normal and no further things are required.

And that Bradley eventually grows out of his need for oxygen.

I told the pulmonologist I did not want a trach.

And he said "You will want one if it helps your child breath."

 I came home in tears.

Worrying that this school year will start with the placement of a tracheostomy.

I'm hoping I'm wrong.

And I called my Mommy that night and cried on the phone with her.

Later this week I was at the DMV to get a new driver's licence. Mine was expiring.

I asked the lady for an application for a disabled placard, since Bradley is getting a wheelchair.

I told her about Bradley.

She pursed her lips and frowned a bit,

and turned her eyes down and said she was sorry.

I told her he is okay. I told her he has taught me a lot.

The usual things I tell people.

And she said that she had a stroke once and had a full recovery.

And she asked me if he will ever walk.

I told her no one knows, but we do have hope that one day he will.

And I came home and read the application

and read the seven things the DMV says makes the applicant worthy of a placard.

Bradley has six of the seven.

I think we will get it.

 Tom has a co-worker who's wife prays for Bradley all the time.

He asks Tom often how Bradley is doing.

And he always says his wife is STILL praying. 

He was raised Mormon and she was raised in another Christian sect.

And neither of them go to church anymore.

And she is always praying for Bradley.

 Always.

Had Bradley not had these medical problems, there would be no reason for that woman to pray.

Bradley is a missionary of God.

He gets people on their knees,

praying to a God they have not seen.

Exercising their faith.

As disabled as he might seem, he has more power than any of my other children.

I am proud he is my son.

And I will always proudly push him.

Grateful he is a warrior, for his God and mine.