By Barbara K. Dittrich

April 12, 2000. When I even say the date, the numbing emotions come flooding back as if it were yesterday. “There’s no easy way to say this. Your son has hemophilia,” the doctor said. Was it the hormones of just giving birth or the echo of people telling me that I worried about nothing when I had concern about our baby possibly having the genetic disorder that ran in our family, that made the moment seem so surreal? Although, we knew that it could be a risk, no words can describe the level of total shock we felt when we received our baby’s diagnosis the day after his birth.

You may be surprised to hear that my husband and I tearfully prayed, “Thank you, God, for hemophilia. We don’t know why we’re thanking you, but we do.” Our faith had brought us to a place where we could quickly agree that something positive would come out of this heartbreaking news.

Despite that, the predictable spiritual struggles that seem to hit every parent of a child with a special need began once we arrived home. Why was this happening to us? Why would our baby suffer like this? How could God allow this to happen? Weren’t we faithful enough? We had gone through infertility treatment as part of our family building – Were we supposed to adopt instead? Were we being punished for something?

I can remember sitting in a rocking chair with my baby boy crying, feeling so incredibly guilty that I had passed this genetic disorder on to him. My heart ached for the pain this tiny, innocent child would face as he encountered a lifetime of internal bleeding and being stuck with countless needles throughout his life.

Almost 10 years later, I can tell you that this beautiful boy not only shines with the energetic promise of hope, he shares a solid faith with his parents and siblings as well. How did we get from there to here? What helped us resolve these awful issues in our lives?

First, let me say that nothing brings you to examine thoroughly what you believe like crisis. This is probably why books like THE SHACK are so popular – They represent the internal struggle we all encounter when we try to make sense of suffering. The benefit of what we went through was that we were able to completely evaluate what we believed and why we believed it.

Second, we found ourselves surrounded by remarkable people. Galatians 6:2 in the Contemporary English Version (CEV) of the Bible says, “You obey the law of Christ when you offer each other a helping hand.” Our faith was bolstered as we encountered others who had walked a mile in our shoes, but were a few steps ahead of us. Also, any kindness or compassion we were offered during those rough times (and even now) represented Christ to us. God’s presence was made known to us through any positive thing that happened while we were in crisis.

Third, we were not willing to remain in that dark pit of grief forever. Admittedly, there are days where living with a child who has special needs is one step forward, two steps back. However, we refused to believe that our Creator intended us to be miserable for the remainder of our time on earth. We clung to promises like Jeremiah 29:11 “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.” Sometimes, that meant leading with action first and emotion later, but we committed ourselves to that forward motion.

Fourth, we were willing learners. We spent time reading about faith matters both in our Bibles and in relevant literature. There was plenty to be revealed as we discovered that there have been parents and children like us all the way back to the beginning of time. We saw how others dealt with these issues, and that bolstered our faith and added tools to our tool chest. Furthermore, we learned a great deal about the character of God, how He has operated throughout history, and it put our mind at ease.

Fifth, and finally, we were willing to be there for others. Redemption came when our sorrows could be used to bless another. Whether it was a family with a new baby who had hemophilia or other weary parents of kids with special needs, we were able to offer compassion, wisdom and encouragement because of what we had experienced. That gave all of our lives eternal value. In this view, the struggles almost became a gift from God.

When diagnosis crashes into faith, you are left with your head spinning and your heart breaking. For any person to give trite, pat answers to your internal spiritual wrestling is nothing but foolishness. Nevertheless, our lives stand as a testimony that people just like you can and do get through this crossroads with a positive outcome. It may be a time of feeling like you’re being wrung out, but persevere! Patiently allowing yourself the time and space to work through these issues without succumbing to perpetual anger and guilt can transform you into a person who others view as remarkable.