Momma, Why Can’t I Read?
This post was originally published on Not The Former Things in 2014.
After reading two books last week, my sweet son was thrilled.
I was thrilled.
We all were thrilled.
But this week, basic words are a struggle again.
He sees the words. He knows he used to know them. But his brain just can’t recall the information.
This is part of dyslexia. It is a very real, very confusing, very frustrating part of dyslexia.
The International Dyslexia Association describes our daily life perfectly –
“Few other handicapping conditions are intermittent in nature. A child in a wheelchair remains there; in fact, if on some days the child can walk, most professionals would consider it a hysterical condition. However, for the dyslexic, performance fluctuates. This makes it extremely difficult for the individual to learn to compensate, because he or she cannot predict the intensity of the symptoms on a given day.” (read more here)
Not being able to read is one thing.
Being able to read one day, and then not being able to read the next? It just hurts.
Last night, my sweet boy asked me again why he can’t read. He knows all about dyslexia, his wonderfully made brain with all its unique differences. He has an educational therapist he works with every week who helps him understand his diagnosis beyond what I have been able to explain. He is well versed in the logical explanation of why he can’t read.
The question he was really asking last night was, “Why me?“.
Mick and I both encouraged him that God has a plan for his life that includes his brain wiring. We shared examples of people in history with dyslexia that have accomplished amazing things. We praised him for working so diligently and making so much progress.
When we were done with our “talk”, he looked up with tears streaming down his sweet cheeks, and said, “God, why would you give me this brain?“.
He was asking a question we have all asked at one point or another.
Why my child?
Why would you give me this, God?
Last night, we had a huge opportunity to teach our little man about faith. I am grateful for it. I hope we handled it well.
We answered him in the only way we knew how. We prayed with him. We walked with him as he poured out his heart to Jesus. We comforted him as he cried, “Amen”.
As I fell asleep, I went over and over again all the things I would do today to teach reading.
I planned out an extra lesson. Then I thought it might be too much pressure.
I tried to come up with a project he could easily accomplish using the parts of his brain that are advanced, but I couldn’t think of anything that would work with the materials we have on hand.
I promised myself I would read a chapter in Dyslexia 101 when I woke up, to help with some inspiration.
I drifted off to sleep feeling determined to work harder, try harder and persevere for my son.
This morning as I awoke, this verse was playing itself over and over in my mind –
“Make me to know your ways, O Lord; teach me your paths. Lead me in your truth and teach me, for you are the God of my salvation; for you I wait all the day long.” Psalm 25:4-5
All my plans. All my commitments to trying and striving and working and doing. All the pressure of it being on me to help Bacon. They all just make it about me, about my ways.
This morning, I don’t want anything for us other than this verse. Make me to know your ways, O Lord; teach me your paths.
God is the teacher. Not me.
I will wait on Him all the day long.