“When the tears fall it becomes a guessing game. When we miss the mark of the needs the tears become screams. The frustration that mounts for everyone is intense. That screaming can last for what feels like an eternity. What ends it? Her resignation. She has no choice but to quit. Nobody is answering her need. Because we don’t even know what it is.”

I read these words in a blog post that a friend shared today. It was titled “Loving a child who cannot speak.”

The author’s words are spot on. Every trip to the ER with Tess means hours of this. This week I had two of them—seven hours, not bad really for two ER visits. But in the midst of one of them, a doctor asked me two questions that I just can’t stop thinking about. “Why did you do this? Isn’t it hard for you?” How do I even answer that? Those are questions that shouldn’t even be asked. Those are questions that breed self-pity and discontent–even fear.

Why did I do this? Should I not have done it? Could someone else do it better? How does he want me to respond? “Oops! What was I thinking?” “Hard? Oh wow, is it not supposed to be?”

If something is hard, am I to avoid it? I think not. Can’t find that in my Bible. Most weeks it is “easy” to walk the call. One day at a time. One task at a time. A lot of prayer. A few good friends. An excessive number of therapeutic beverages from Starbucks.

But some weeks it is just downright hard. And people ask questions that should never be asked. And they make me think of how much simpler life could be. Of all the “important” things I could be doing with my days. Of all the freedom I’ll never have. And there’s just nothing good that can come from that.

So I choke back the tears and answer him honestly. Because God told us to. Because He gave us one child that turned life and expectations and the future upside down, so we might as well share that upside-down life with more. Because if not us, then who? Because don’t all children deserve a home and the love of a family?

No, isn’t easy. But I’m pretty sure life isn’t supposed to be. That’s an enemy lie. If we all live to avoid hard, then our world is in a heap of trouble. We are deceived into thinking the goal is ease and comfort. We work for vacations or toward retirement. But some lives have neither. And they are good lives too.

And some children have very few words with which to communicate. Others have none at all. And I have found that it is those children who have the most powerful things to say. We just have to stop pursuing and be willing to quiet the noise enough to listen.

Sounds strangely familiar doesn’t it? Like someone else I know—someone who revealed Himself not in the great and strong wind or the earthquake or the fire but in the “sound of a low whisper.” (1 Kings 19:11-12). But then, He did choose “what is foolish in the world to shame the wise” and “what is weak in the world to shame the strong.” (1 Corinthians 1:27) And He promised a freedom unlike any this world offers and a retirement plan that I’m pretty sure can’t be topped.

And if that isn’t enough, He walks with me through this life too. Right past the embarrassing stares as she screams in utter frustration because she has no control over her world. Through all the unnecessary testing she has to endure because she can’t tell us exactly what hurts and every single doctor we see is afraid of being sued. And back home to the mundane and familiar, the safe place with the safe people He’s surrounded her with—her family and her might-as-well-be family.

And we keep living the “hard” life. With the beautiful, brown-eyed, curly-haired girl who has few words but has an awful lot to say.

“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” (Matthew 11:28-30)