Planting Seeds

“The seeds of resilience are planted in the way we process the negative events in our lives.” — Sheryl Sandberg

Today, Helena and I headed into the garden to plant some flowers. It has been a challenging few days. Helena has the capacity to inspire through her determination – and she also has the capacity to drive me to extreme frustration. She can at times be very naughty.

The past few days have been naughty days, with screaming, tantrum throwing, mocking, and defiance. There is usually something behind those behaviors – which often leads other people to say to me “who can blame her?” But we know that not holding her accountable for bad behavior won’t help her be independent and just leads to more naughty behavior. Helena was born in the image of God. She should be raised to stand on her own and be accountable for her actions. I believe her uniqueness is creative perfection to God.

As I approached the garden Helena sat on a step and waited for me. She had been thinking about some things and was ready to vent a little.

“Mama, I don’t like having a disability. I am the only one with a disability at my school. There is no one like me. I just want to be like everyone else.”

We have had this conversation a few times – and each time, I am speechless. How do you comfort a child living with a life long disability that you have never faced yourself?

I answered the best I could. “I am so sorry you are feeling sad about that and I know that sometimes it must be so hard. One thing you need to know is that you are so, so special. You are my sweet Helena, and there is no one else like you. God made you special, and you are the only one who can fill your special place on this earth.”

“I know my special place. I am going to learn about people’s bodies and how to help them get better,” she said.

“Oh – so you want to be a doctor?”

“No, Mom- I’m going to be a scientist. And I am going to study viruses so I can help them get better when there is an illness like we have here right now.”

Helena has for a while now been saying that she is a scientist. One time, I said something about her wanting to be a scientist. Her reply was “Mom, I don’t want to be one. I am one.”

On another occasion, Helena told her daddy that she didn’t need him to teach her something because she was a scientist and already knew everything. Stuart said, “Helena – scientists don’t become scientists because they know everything. They are scientists because they know they DON’T know everything.”

As Helena and I continued talking about her feelings in the garden, she revealed a whole plethora of concerns. She has been anxious.

“Why did God make the virus?”

“Did bad people make the virus?”

“Why would God make bad viruses or bad people?”

“What if you get sick with the virus? I don’t want anything to happen to you mama!”

We talked about these things – and we talked about God, His gift to all of us through Jesus, and what Heaven might look like. Helena had a hard time believing Heaven could be more beautiful than the farm we were sitting in. Then – we prayed for all of our concerns.

After that, we planted seeds. We watered them. And we both felt a little better. There is just something about a garden.

I am blessed beyond measure to get to watch it all grow.