PERSONAL NARRATIVE
matter how I tried, really) calm the storm around her.
Silently, without as much as a glance, she checked
and bagged our groceries.
Just then I realized I didn’t need to make a T-shirt.
There was no longer the need to scream or shout
about anything. Fear and frustration cannot remain
in the presence of Love, the One and Only, Divine
Love and Grace. I saw Ian in place of stares. My short-
comings were invaded by mercy. For this mom and
me, comfort was realized. Our portion was not with-
held. “Thank you, Father.” Love soaked into my being
and spilled into my deepest cracks. And oh, there’s
plenty of them.
I beamed in awe of this Relentless Love as I watched
Ian sing his way out of the store. Raw, powerful grace,
you might even call it organic, healed my aching.
“He restoreth my soul.”
Let’s say partnering with the Almighty is an evolving
habit for me. Forgetting and surrendering my worries
and yes, even myself sometimes seems unnatural.
Yet, when I do, on purpose, my energy and intention
seem to change for the better. I pray it’s for the high-
est good. It wasn’t the first time Divine Love showed
up when I reached my end. There wasn’t room for
my pride and disappointment in that checkout line.
Those enemies of my soul seemed to fall away.
Ian thrived in his special education homeschool pro-
gram. Along with nutritional and therapeutic sup-
ports, his academic levels soared five grade levels in
three years. During year two of homeschooling,
I went back to the school district, faced my so-called
giants, and at last, secured an appropriate education
for Ian, 12 years in the making. On December 12,
2012, his multiple disabilities were placed in writing,
and we looked for a therapeutic high school to meet
his needs.
My brave heart began high school at the age of 17. He
stumbled upon a film job during a d