The Road Not Chosen: Permission To Hope

I was thinking about the day we found out that Evan has Down Syndrome. I refused to believe it until the blood test came back, praying desperately that the doctors were wrong. My obstetrician told me she was sending a nurse to talk to us who had a teenager who had Down’s. “Don’t you dare send anyone to me,” I told her, “I’m not talking to anyone. There’s no point until we know for sure.” Of course, we did know for sure. I just didn’t want to face it.

Later that day a short woman in scrubs came into my room. Here was the mom, the mom I didn’t want to talk to. She, of course, knew exactly what I was thinking & feeling. Settling onto the edge of my bed, she told Harold & me about her son, not just medical facts, but about her son. She told us what his favorite activities were, what he thought of school, what his friends were like, and how much he loved to talk on the phone.

By the end of, well, I can’t call it a conversation because I wouldn’t talk to her, but when she was done gently opening a door for us so we could glimpse her son’s life and our son’s future; she gave us a gift that we still use today. It didn’t come in a box, there wasn’t wrapping paper to tear open and no bag to peek inside. What she gave us was permission. Permission to hope.

There have been many times since then that we have had to remind ourselves that indeed there is reason to hope. When people or society has told us Evan wouldn’t do this or that, a glimmer of hope would shine. “That’s right!” we’d say. “We forgot that it is okay to hope! Maybe he really can learn to walk. To talk. To read. To even cook someday.” Things are rarely as dire as I imagine them to be. Hope, as they say, shines eternal.

Because of our faith in Christ and his resurrection, hope is our inheritance. No matter what this life holds, be it good or bad, at the end of our days we get to leave this place and go to be with God, where there are no more tears, pain, or Down Syndrome.

If you feel like all hope is lost, let me officially give you permission to hope. As long as you have breath, you can call out to the One who created hope. He will come and help, if you ask him to, I promise. Ecclesiastes 9:4 (humorously) says: “Anyone who is among the living has hope—even a live dog is better off than a dead lion.” On a more serious note Jeremiah 20:11 promises “For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

“Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.” (Romans 12:12 NIV)