David

David (Chapter 1) **  Today was my birthday and I turned 17. My birthday doesn’t really mean anything. Sure, my parents seem to make a fuss. Even my exceptionally busy sister takes the time to celebrate my birthday. But they don’t get it. They put on a brave face for me and act like I’m a normal person but they need to see reality the way I see it—pointless. See, when I was a baby, I got really sick. My body got so hot that something happened to me. My brain was damaged. I can’t control my speech and I have little control of my muscles. It almost seems like my body and soul are separate. I can see myself involuntarily reaching out but I can’t stop myself. When my family and I are out and about, I have to be strapped in a wheelchair because when I walk, I can’t keep myself from falling. I can hear and understand when others are talking but my parents don’t know it; it’s not like I can tell them since I can’t really control the sounds that come out of my mouth. I think they might know I can hear but they don’t know I understand—I just can’t speak what is on my mind. So whenever they have important conversations, they don’t bother with having my sister take me into another room—my parents talk freely in front of me.
 * [[image:David.jpg]]

When we started going to our new church, my mom took me with her when she went to meet with the pastor. I listened to my mother practically relive that night I got really sick; the night my parents found out that our lives were about to change in a big way.

“Pastor, one night when David was a baby he was really sick. I woke up in the middle of the night to check on David to make sure he was ok. When I walked into David’s room, I saw him lying on his back with the covers strewn everywhere. I walked a little closer but then paused when I noticed his breathing was very shallow. I rushed to David’s side and felt his head; he was burning up. His temperature was 104 degrees so I called the doctor and rushed him to the hospital. Once David was stabilized; Dan and I went to the doctor’s office to meet with David’s pediatrician. He told us, ‘The good news is we were able to bring David’s temperature down out of the danger zone. We’re pushing antibiotics and fluids through him. The bad news is because of the high temperature, he will most likely have some damage to his brain. We won’t know for sure until we run some tests.’

“Pastor, David’s condition hasn’t changed since he was two. It has been a stressful life for all of us. Finding a church home has not been easy either. We have to make sure that the //entire// family will be welcomed and accepted.”

I looked around the room—gazing at the multiple bookshelves full of books and Bibles. I noticed a closed door in his office. I thought what could be behind the door. Occasionally I found myself able to focus my attention on the Pastor’s expression as my mother told him our family’s story and listened as he reassured my mother.

“Donna, sometimes things happen for a reason. We don’t always know why. I can tell you that God has a purpose and a plan for everything. Some things in life are not intended by God but He can and will take what the Devil means for bad, turn it around, and get good out of it. God specializes in taking the broken pieces of our lives and putting them back together; making the broken vessel stronger than it was before.” media type="file" key="14181-4.mp3" width="216" height="18"

Pastor came out from behind his desk and sat in the blue comfy chair next to me, putting his arms around my shoulders as he spoke to my mother. He told her that God could use my testimony to help others in the same situation, whatever that meant. After a while, my mom and I left his office and went back home. I sat in the back seat of our little red Chevy as mom drove, watching the other cars speed by, drifting in and out of sleep. My mom had decided that this church, which we still attend today, was the one she wanted to stay at. She felt that this church was a place where all of us would be loved and accepted just as we are with no strings attached. My family has struggled to find a place to belong—a church to call home. Past experiences have taught my family that not all people accept others’ handicaps. I don’t know if it is out of fear or something else, but my parents wanted to find a place where all of us were welcome.

I can understand how hard it has to be on them taking care of me twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week while trying to raise my sister, who is perfectly healthy, plus work full-time jobs. I know it’s not easy. Mom is always telling Danielle how grateful she is that she is now old enough to help mom out and that Danielle is willing to help my parents whenever she can. I guess that is because she is only two years younger than I am.

It’s not fair. Why did this happen to me? Why did I get stuck being the handicapped child? I am the oldest yet my parents treat me like such a baby. I know that I can’t do things on my own, but at least they could talk to me like a “normal” teenager instead of a kid. I guess they mean well, but still, it hurts.

Today my parents decorated the house with party stuff—Happy Birthday banners stretched across the entrance between the kitchen and the living room, helium-filled balloons clung to the ceiling, and streamers decorated the kitchen table and chairs. Mom spread confetti on the kitchen table around the cake and ice-cream. Mom decorated the living room and kitchen while I sat on the sofa, helmet covering my head, watching TV. Mom gave me a birthday hat but it wouldn’t stay on my head. I involuntarily smiled at my mother; she means well but she doesn’t understand. Guests from church began to arrive a few at a time while mom hurriedly finished the last minute preparations—kissing my forehead as she walked by me. Mom loves me and wants to try to make life as “normal” as possible for me but I think it’s a waste of time to have a birthday party for me. I have handicaps; it is pointless to try to pretend that I don’t.

Go to Donna Chapter 1

David (Chapter 2) **  I’m getting ready to go to church today with my mom, Dad, and Danielle. It’s always nice to see people at church. There are always people each week that will stop and say hi to me, pat me on the shoulder or shake my hand. Sometimes, if Mom spikes my hair, girls will come up and touch my prickly hair. I don’t mind that. It gives me a minute to think about what might have been if I hadn’t gotten sick and stuck in a wheelchair the rest of my life. Sure, lots of people are praying God will take away my handicaps and I will be able to talk and walk without loosing control, but I am not sure that God will heal me; though I really want to believe that He will. Since I can’t even speak, how is God going to hear my prayers anyway?
 * 

I just sit there and let them play with my hair—it’s no skin off my nose. You never know; besides, it doesn’t hurt me and it makes them happy. Sometimes I think that maybe others that pray for me will have enough faith that God will heal me. Sometimes I just get tired of hoping to wake up in the morning and be different. But in those moments when girls actually pay attention to me, I really wish hard that my life could be different.

I like to dream that I’m just a regular guy and girls are calling me every day on the phone just to talk to me; wanting and hoping for a chance to go on a date with me. All the phone calls would make my sister jealous—not of me, but of the fact that I am the one tying up the phone line instead of her because then she doesn’t get to talk on the phone to her friends nearly as much because I am always talking to girls. When some of Danielle’s friends call, they want to talk to me too. But it’s all just a dream.

Danielle does tell me when her friends from church call her and tell her to say hi to me for them. It’s nice to be thought of. I am not really jealous of my sister—I love her. I do wish I was not handicapped though. I would not wish on anyone to go through what I’ve had to go through in my life. Believe me, it’s no picnic.

Go to Donna Chapter 2

 I know my mom means well, but what good does it do to send me to school? I would rather stay at home with her and have her teach me. My mom is a teacher but she is going to school for another teaching degree. That makes me jealous sometimes that I have to share my mom’s attention. I can’t wait until she is done with school. Then I will have more time with her, I hope. She used to read stories to me when I was a kid. Then as I got older, she quit reading so much to me. I think she believes that I can’t understand the book, but I can. I miss hearing my mom’s voice. It doesn’t really matter anymore what she reads to me, as long as she spends the time with me. I know sometimes I don’t seem very thankful for my mother. I wish there was some way that I could let her know how much I appreciate her.
 * David (Chapter 3) **

I also wish I could tell her that sometimes the other kids are mean to me. I think those kids are mean to me on purpose. I think mom is suspicious of the school but it’s not the teachers that she needs to worry about. It’s the other kids, though sometimes I think my teachers could do more to keep me from getting hurt. Mom dreams of opening her own special education school. I hope that she thinks about the kids she allows in the school. I know it’s kind of selfish but I don’t want to share my mom with a bunch of mean kids. She is //my// mom and she should be //my// teacher.

Go to Danielle Chapter 2

 I feel better on the days my parents take me to church. I feel loved and accepted. It’s those days that I go out with my parents between the services at church that makes me feel like I wish God would just take me home, like today. I went with my parents to the store. I think they thought the drive through town would make me happy, though sometimes I think they take me out to get me to take a nap—they know how car rides in the afternoon make me doze off.
 * David (Chapter 4) **

When we got to the store, Dad helped me into my chair. Dad pushed my chair while Mom pushed the cart. Everything was fine, at first. I watched as my mom pushed the cart, filling it with groceries—fruit snacks, hamburger, chicken, bread, cheese, chips, and Pepsi (Dad’s favorite). My dad would talk to me and every once in a while, he’d point to something he knew I liked to eat and tease me about getting it. My dad is a riot. His teasing and joking manner often puts me in a better mood when I am sad. He’s been an awesome father to me.

Then I saw some young kids peering at me from around the corner. I heard them whispering. I bet they thought I couldn’t understand them, but I did. They were laughing at me and calling me names. That hurt my feelings and I felt horrible the rest of the day; I almost couldn’t eat a bite, I felt so bad. My mom noticed the change in my behavior. I didn’t want to worry her, so I ate something to make her happy and not fuss over me not eating.

Go to Donna Chapter 3

 The teenagers and the youth pastor prayed for me again today during youth church. I know they really care about me—they want to see me healed; they want for me not to be handicapped anymore. When Kay saw me she said, “Here comes my boyfriend!” She was teasing a bit. Sometimes the girls pretend to fight over me. They mean well and it makes me feel like I belong and they accept me as part of their group. I just hope they aren’t doing it out of pity for me. Sometimes I have enough pity for myself. I don’t need other people’s pity—I just want people to treat me as a normal person. I don’t think that’s too much to ask.
 * David (Chapter 5) **

Go to Danielle Chapter 3

 We went to church this morning. Pastor’s been talking about having faith and believing for miracles to happen. I don’t think I have any faith left. Pastor says that you have to keep praying and believing that God is going to answer your prayer and claim your miracle by faith even if the miracle hasn’t happened yet. I have pretty much given up on praying for myself. Lots of people have been praying for me. Pastor also says that God always answers prayer. I’m not sure about that. I’ve prayed, so has the entire church, for God to make me better, but so far—nothing. Pastor says that sometimes, when people pray, the answer is yes, sometimes the answer is no, and sometimes the answer is not now. Seeing as how I am still the way I am, God is either saying no or not now, to me being healed. Pastor says that we aren’t supposed to give up—to keep praying and getting prayed for until the miracle is received. I guess it wouldn’t kill me to talk to God.
 * David (Chapter 6) **

“Dear God, Pastor says all the time that we should keep praying until we receive our miracle. He also says that sometimes, when we are going through a terrible time that it is because either we have sin in our life or it is a test from you or simply that bad things do happen. You never promised us a life without problems but you promised you would always be with us through the problems. Seeing as how I’ve not been “normal” since I was two years old, I’ve come to the understanding that maybe you’re testing me, or it’s just a bad thing that wasn’t part of your perfect plan for me. I guess the Devil tried to mess up your plans for my life but you are going to take this bad thing that has happened and somehow get good out of it. What that will be, I’m not sure of. Even so, I’ve been asking for you to make me whole again, but so far, nothing has happened. Please, God, my greatest desire is to be like everyone else, a whole person with no handicaps. Please help me. Thank you.”

Go to Donna Chapter 4

 Something unbelievable happened to me! I had a dream the other night. I’ve been thinking a lot about this dream; it was totally cool! In my dream I was in Heaven! I could walk and talk just like regular people do! I was whole like everyone else in Heaven. When I got to Heaven I was welcomed in and I got to see God. It was awesome. media type="file" key="01 Heaven in the Real World.wma"
 * David (Chapter 7) **

I can’t wait until I get to Heaven. Pastor says that when people go to Heaven, they get a glorified body. There will be no sickness in Heaven. Or tears. Or pain. Pastor also says that when we get to Heaven, we will be given a mansion and the streets are paved with gold. He also says that when we get there, we’ll get to have a big banquet—we’ll actually get to sit down with Jesus and eat dinner just like the disciples did in the Bible. I’m so excited!

[|Soon and Very Soon]

I’ve come to realize that even if God doesn’t make me whole now, once I get to Heaven, I will be. I have hope I won’t always be like this and maybe I can endure a bit longer. I just wish that there was some way I could tell my parents how much I love them and appreciate everything they do for me now. I don’t know what I would have done without them. I am so glad that once they found out that I was going to be different, they still loved me and kept me around. I know that sometimes I seem ungrateful and whiney; but I really couldn’t get along without them.