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My daughter cannot play the game telephone.
She cannot hear anything underwater.
I cannot whisper secrets to her as she goes to bed at night.
Lunchtime at school is extremely difficult for Roses.
Some obstacles we have not been able to figure out how to overcome, and this means I have to take a moment. I need to stop, breathe and remember it will be okay.
Roses’ first Easter
Right after Roses was identified with sensorineural hearing loss by our audiologist we celebrated her first Easter. I have always loved the season of Lent as it allows me to contemplate my faith more fully. It is a time of reflection on the gifts the Lord has given me in this life, as well as the everlasting gifts I will one day receive. Unfortunately this Easter season I found it difficult to rejoice. I was struggling to see my gifts and focus on the Lord.
Instead, I was grieving. Listening, as our choir sang joyful Hallelujahs, the brass instruments rang out, and the beautiful bell banners came down the aisle I found myself wiping away tears of sorrow. Sorrow that my daughter was not hearing the beautiful music. My imagination failed me, I couldn’t see how she would ever experience the joy of an Easter service the way I did. Her hearing loss would never let her.
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I’ll admit I spent most of the service focused on my own pain. Frustrated that I had to live with this. Then it came time for the sermon and our Pastor began to preach. His sermon was a true gift from God that Easter Sunday. I know it was meant for me. It helped others as well I am sure, but I needed that sermon.
What will we do with the stone?
Our Pastor spoke about Mary and the other women going to Jesus’ tomb on Easter morning. Although they had been told by Jesus Christ himself that he would rise from the dead, it seems obvious that they still expected him to have perished. They were headed to the tomb to finish properly enabling him. All they could think about was how they were going to move the giant stone out of the way to get to his body.
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I picture them trudging along, wiping tears from their eyes, possibly feeling a little betrayed and angry that Jesus died. Their faith is that they can move the stone somehow, not that Jesus will have risen. They fear they will not find a way.
And then they reach the empty tomb.
None of these women believed the tomb would be empty. They expected to carry the grief of Jesus’ death until they died, and yet here a miracle had happened.
While they were worrying about the stone, Jesus rose from the dead.
What are the stones in your life?
My Pastor used these verses to describe how we obsess about the stones in our lives. Our health, our children’s development, our finances, etc. We forget the promises God has given us, to take care of us on earth, and more importantly to forgive us and give us everlasting life.
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We worry about how we can take care of the stones. Forgetting we are not alone and God is right here with us.
This sermon has stuck with me for the last twelve years.
The stone of Roses’ hearing loss seems insurmountable at times. An obstacle that we can never hope to overcome. But if I remember God is with us I can focus less on how to move the stone. Now, I can see who He has sent into our lives to help us. Our audiologist, DHH teachers, ENT, family, and friends. They are all here to help with the burden of her stone.
Stones can also become steps
Roses might not be able to play the game of telephone, but she has a wicked sense of humor. This helps when she has to deal with a situation where she feels left out.
Lunchtime is difficult, but she is surrounded by people who care. Teachers who help problem solve, audiologists who suggest equipment, and friends who will sit with her in quieter spaces.
Her swim instructors adjust their teaching for her. Staying closer, only giving her directions when she is near and can see their mouths, and speaking up. Roses has also learned how to watch those around her for clues on what to do next.
So far, Roses’ hearing loss has not stopped her from doing anything she wants to do, or any of the dreams she has.
At Easter, she rises with the congregation and lifts her voice in song. My little girl with hearing loss has a beautiful voice and perfect pitch. She loves music and singing.
In the end, I believe the Lord has helped with her stone. Despite the fear I had when we first heard her diagnosis our faith has helped us through. I encourage you to have faith that your child will also have a full and happy life despite your own fears.
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Your faith can look different from mine, but your belief that your child will thrive is what will help you advocate best.