Hidden Treasures

“I will give you the treasures of darkness,
riches stored in secret places.”
Isaiah 45:3 (NASB)

When our special needs son James Bruce died, one of my best friends quietly said through her tears, “He changed the way we prayed.” Indeed, he did. But James Bruce didn’t just change the way we prayed; he also changed the way Bruce and I parented our children.

Before James Bruce’s birth, I thought I knew everything I needed to know about parenting toddlers. Our two older children were, for the most part, compliant, obedient, happy, and well-adjusted children. James Bruce was completely different from birth. He didn’t sleep or eat well; cried constantly; and refused to be comforted, cuddled, or held except when I was nursing him. His major developmental milestones were also significantly delayed. My fear and anxiety drove me to my knees with my need. I was constantly praying for wisdom and admitting that whatever was wrong with James Bruce was way beyond me and my natural abilities. 

James Bruce was almost four years old when our fourth child Daniel was born. From the moment Daniel was born, his Daddy nicknamed him our “Joy Boy.” Daniel made having kids fun again. He quickly surpassed James Bruce physically, mentally, and emotionally. As Daniel grew, James Bruce’s disabilities became more and more obvious to all of us. Daniel “hovered and covered” James Bruce, constantly encouraged him to do more, and tried to protect him as much as possible. 

As a part-time working mom and high school coach’s wife with four children, there was never enough time, energy, or money. We couldn’t afford outside household help. It took all of us working together for our family to function properly. As our children grew, Bruce implemented a nightly family “pick up” drill right after dinner. Each night Bruce set the kitchen timer for 15 minutes and assigned each of us specific tasks. Garbage cans were emptied, laundry was folded, bathrooms were cleaned, or floors were vacuumed. Even James Bruce could pick up toys or carry laundry baskets. Our chores varied nightly, but the end result was 90 minutes of daily household work and a little bit of organization and calm in our collective chaos. Anyone who didn’t fully engage in our family project was assigned penalty minutes and additional chores by Dad. Everybody helped and everybody benefitted.

James Bruce’s disabilities and our nightly family pickup drill were two of the tools that God used to teach our other children to work together as a team. I couldn’t see it when we were in the middle of it, but last week following Bruce’s open-heart surgery, I marveled at our kids’ teamwork and organizational skills. They, along with their spouses, synced their calendars, coordinated care for their Dad and me, and then handed me a schedule. Our caregiving roles have finally been reversed.

Having a special needs child or family member is life changing and very difficult. But just as surely, some of our greatest blessings have come because of James Bruce's life. As a family, we've experienced the reality of Isaiah 45:3, "I will give you the treasures of darkness, riches stored in secret places, so that you may know that I am the Lord, the God of Israel who summons you by name."  Treasures of darkness are those valuable life lessons we learn in the darkness of sorrow and suffering that can never be learned in the light, easy times of life. Those lessons include experiencing God's sufficiency, faithfulness, strength, and provision to meet our every need. We've seen God bring beauty from the ashes of our suffering and we know that God cares about the broken pieces of our lives. We also know the world watches how we suffer.

We are currently experiencing some hidden treasures of Bruce’s recent open-heart surgery. His recovery is going very well. He is walking a mile each morning out on our circle gradually rebuilding his strength. Our Women’s Ministry has organized a 3-week Meal Train to help with our meals. Many of Bruce’s Auburn football lettermen teammates have called, visited, or come to cut our grass. Bruce’s coaching buddies and our church community continue to love us well with meals, gift cards, and visits.

We are incredibly blessed, humbled, and beyond grateful for your cards, encouragement, and prayers. I am closing today’s post with words from Something Beautiful, a song written by Bill and Gloria Gaither:

Something beautiful, something good
All my confusion He understood
All I had to offer Him was brokenness and strife
But he made something beautiful of my life