The Making Of A Miracle - Part 4

To recap last post:
*We were moving onto the unknown and a deep sense of knowing that it was right.
*Scary feelings mixed with calm, challenge mixed with.... am I crazy?

As soon as we arrived in Kelowna I had my booked appointment with the government to get the paper work and requests started for Lindsay. I finally got to meet the woman I had spoke to on the phone. She was as positive on the phone as in person. Her job was a tough one. She had to listen to incredible needs and try to help families who were desperate for help with very limited funding and services.

The whole system for special needs children was different. The forms, the process, the language, terms, how you asked ratings scales, etc. Nothing was the same. These type of meetings are always really long, and force you to retell the history of struggles for your child. I had come prepared.

Before arriving, I had worked with my Ontario Social Worker to learn the new wording, and basic structure of requirements for a new provincial system. I practically had a novel of the same information converted into a different language that this system could understand. As well as preparing the forms, I made a call to the head of the organization and got his email address from someone I had met on our house-hunting visit to Kelowna. He knew about Lindsay and he knew I had a meeting booked.

The meeting went as well as these things can go. They are very draining, and really focus on what is not working. This grates on my positivity strength and it's like asking me to dig a ditch in the cold rain for 12 hours straight. Gruesome, tiring, dirty work.

You often walk out of them feeling completely depressed and incapable as a parent. All of the effort you make... is not enough. So, I fight back against it with gratitude. It's one of my secret weapons for survival. It keeps me floating above the water of discouragement. In this place, though tossed by waves, I can breathe, I can see the sun and sky above me.

Throughout the meeting I let the worker know how very grateful we have been over the years for the governments support and I would tell her stories of gratitude and impact.  I meant it. I am forever blessed to live in Canada with a government that cares so well for children with special needs.

At the end of the meeting my worker informed me that Lindsay would be placed on a very long waiting list after we had passed the 3 month waiting period. Then, when her time on the list came up, (which could be many months or a whole year) she may receive some funding to help with her constant care. If she did, it would be only about 5% of what she had been accessing in Ontario. That's just the way it was.

This was a bad report. And that is when something happened inside of me.

It's not like I had never heard bad reports with Lindsay before. They were presented to me a on a very regular basis. I knew how to deal with them and I could find a way to get through.
This time was different. I got mad inside. REAL mad. Not the yelling kind, but the roaring, mother bear kind. The kind where you want to wield a huge imaginary sword and slay a predator.

I felt this uncontrollable surge of indignation and fire well up within my belly and up through my throat. Something took control of me and I courageously and audaciously blurted:

Well.... You see.... You don't understand. My daughter is a princess. 

I smiled and nervously laughed.

We have learned that Lindsay is a princess. She even has the life of a princess.... EVERYTHING gets done for her. 
She doesn't have to feed herself, toilet herself or even wipe her own face, she has personal attendants every single day. 
She's even got her own little chariot (wheelchair) that takes her from place to place.

(Come to think of it....... why on earth was I praying for her to be "normal" like me? She had it made! She was happy and had the life of a princess. I might need to re-look at my perspective of her being normal. But that's for another post.)

I believe in God and He thinks she pretty awesome. She belongs to God and He cares a lot about her.
I don't know how its going to happen, but she IS going to get what she needs. 
God is going to get her what she needs.

I let out a big sigh (from the fire burning in my belly).

The worker just stared at me with a blank stare. She blinked. There was an uncomfortable silence.  I'm sure she thought I was right off my rocker..... probably due to 16 years of high stress.

I had never been this bold before. I had become ridiculous, crazy-bold about NOT KNOWING.
Oh my......

Ah.... ok! she said slowly.

Well, umm...... that's all for today. I'll start the paperwork and I'll be in touch.
She said with a furrowed brow.

Ingredient #5 for a miracle:

Don't take ownership of the solution.

Do your part. Boldly and audaciously declare.
Believe and then leave it... as an impossible situation...... that is WAY beyond you.

Tomorrow... more of the story.