Peace of Parenting By: Guest-Blogger Tracy L. Craig

There’s a saying, you meet people for a reason or a season. I met Tracy L. Craig for a reason. I’ve known her for only a year, but I feel like I’ve known her all my life. Through our journey, I learned Tracy is the mother of an adorable little girl named Rachel, who has a developmental disability. I have always been intrigued about how a parent, besides my own, view disabilities and the emotional roller-coaster he or she must go through. My friend never holds back. I have asked her to share with you a parent’s perspective. Tracy has enhanced my life and I’m sure her outlook will enhance your life as well. Welcome her as she celebrates World Down Syndrome Day and serves as today’s guest-blogger.

Shari

Joy and Peace are beautiful ideas.  I used to think of them as Godly gifts, or spiritual virtues that I might experience someday.  Then God gave me Rachel, and I realized that I was right.  Rachel is my 7-year old daughter diagnosed with Down Syndrome.  And since she came into my life, her joy has given me a peace I can’t explain.  Down Syndrome is a genetic condition, yes, but I call it a diagnosis.  It’s only a medical fact, but Down Syndrome is hardly the truth about who Rachel is.  The truth is that Rachel’s spirit overflows with joy and her beauty cannot be denied.  That explains why people smile when they see her, why I run to her every day after school.  Because Rachel’s joy on the inside shows up on the outside.  It makes her big, even in her little package.  Rachel laughs big and squeals at things she likes, like singing along when “Jessie” comes on.  I have learned from Rachel that life is simple, not complicated.  She doesn’t fuss about what’s for dinner– as long as it’s french fries– and she doesn’t complain about what she’s wearing.  Rachel is easy.  Her personality is mild.  But in her zest for life, she is huge.  Rachel wears a smile most every day, and as I watch her, I realize that the smile on her face matches the smile in her heart.  Sure, she could be sad to play alone at recess or sad that she can’t say all the words that she hears.  But I guess Rachel chooses joy over sadness because her joy is effortless; and that’s probably why she gives it away so freely. Rachel knows instinctively when I’m a little down or feeling not so well.  Out of my three children, it’s Rachel that comes beside me to press her cheek against mine.  She always whispers softly, “Mommy’ s ’ok.”  I always smile.  As she slips me a little joy for my sorrow.  Maybe she’s saying, “Mommy’s OK,” speaking the truth that “Mommy will be just fine.”  Or maybe she’s saying, “Mommy, it’s OK,” to remind me that whatever it is, it’s not going to overtake me.  I’m not quite sure, but I know that she says it with love and intention.  In that moment, Rachel’s joy becomes my peace.  And I am reminded in an instant that I have them both because I have Rachel.  I don’t worry much about her future or how things will be as she matures.  I am confident that Rachel will stay in her place of joy.  And this truth brings me great peace.  Rachel enjoys reading books and watching musical videos on YouTube.  She has memorized every song from “The Wiz” and has us singing “Ease on Down the Road” every Saturday morning.  Rachel lives simply and authentically, keeping her finger on the things that keep her joyful. That must be why I was chosen to be her mother.  Not only to advocate for Rachel’s inclusion at school and to make sure that people see her fully, but also to teach people that joy is a real thing.  Peace is real too.  My daughter Rachel is the living proof.