Every now and then, I like to veer off the usual path and shift the focus of my posts. Today, I want to reflect on a teacher. Do you remember a teacher in your childhood who stood out during your early years? For me, it was Mrs. Broman, my 2nd grade homeroom teacher. I was so smitten that I was convinced I would marry her someday!
Often, we associate memorable teachers with our youth, but sometimes, a teacher appears later in life, out of nowhere teaching us invaluable lessons in unexpected ways. For me, that one influential teacher, doubtlessly the most influential in my life, is my son Nicholas. He has taught our family innumerable – and school isn’t over! Here’s the story of my teacher, who has down-syndrome.
On February 27, 2002, a 38-year-old mother, pregnant with her third child after a previous miscarriage, went with her husband for an unscheduled ultrasound. Although she had experienced a small bleed, the doctors reassured them that there was no cause for concern, likely just a case of placenta previa. To ease their minds, they suggested a quick ultrasound to check on the fetus.
The excited soon-to-be parents watched as the ultrasound technician examined their unborn baby, occasionally pausing to point out body parts like the hands, feet, and heart. However, it wasn’t long before the technician suddenly paused, then abruptly excused herself.
After a few minutes that felt like an eternity, the ultrasound technician returned with a man they had never seen before—the Perinatologist. He entered the room and quietly studied the screen. The couple hoped he would say, “Everything looks fine” or perhaps suggest “bed rest.” Instead, he began to point out abnormalities: a cystic hygroma (a pocket of fluid at the back of the neck), a clasped hand (indicating possible distress), and an arm that appeared smaller than the other. Then came the devastating news: “I believe your child has a genetic disorder.” The rest of the day blurred into a haze. For these parents, February 27, 2002, marked a moment when life felt completely out of control.
Although the baby was originally due on June 1st, further complications led to his arrival six weeks early, on April 17th. Nicholas Lee, a beautiful baby boy with blond hair, blue eyes, and a strong heart, was born with Down syndrome. Despite his normal-length arms and overall appearance, the diagnosis was a heavy blow. All the plans, aspirations, and dreams the parents had envisioned seemed to vanish in an instant.
For us, Nicholas’ diagnosis was an eye opener. It was a reality check. It was a resounding lesson on one of life’s most sobering realities – no one is immune to the pains of life. Along with the pain, however, came an ever-growing awareness that obstacles, difficulties and unexpected challenges in time can yield incalculable blessings.
Many times, in Scripture, God uses adverse situations to accomplish good. Joseph said to his brothers who had sold him into bondage, “Ye meant this for evil, but God meant it for good” (Gen. 50:20). To Paul, God said concerning his thorn in the flesh, “My grace is sufficient for thee: for my power is made perfect in weakness…Wherefore I take pleasure in weaknesses, in injuries, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses, for Christ’s sake: for when I am weak, then am I strong” (2 Co. 12:9-10).
While it is understood that having a child with a disability pale in comparison to what these heroes encountered, the fact remains, it was a change in life and a loss of a dream. Yet, the truth of the matter is, good things can and do come from adversity.
Several years ago, at a seminar for parents of children with Down syndrome, a father shared a poignant reflection about his son. He said, “If I could change my son’s diagnosis—for his sake, I would do it in a heartbeat. But for my own sake, I wouldn’t. My son has enabled me to become an exceptional father.”
So it is with Nicholas, with all of his challenges, his obstacles and his hills – he is a special-needs young man who has been quite a teacher. Nicholas, who is now well past his 22nd birthday, continues to progressing and learn. He parents he sock moneys, loves music, can make it happen (sort of) on the dance floor and lights up as he celebrates even the smallest accomplishments. I remember the first time he got home from school on the bus, he hopped out of the bus screaming: “I did it!”
Without a doubt, Nicholas, to his parents is a constant reminder of the uncertainties and blessings of life. Although Nicholas is different from most young men his age, he shares a common thread with us all, he longs for and deserves to be loved.
Undoubtedly, by the grace of God, I’ve had the privilege of learning from some incredibly capable, godly, and knowledgeable individuals. However, I am convinced that when I look back on my life, the single most significant influence for good will have been Nicholas—my teacher with Down syndrome.
You are loved!
Les
