Balance Beam

There are certain moments in life that just leave me speechless and in tears of joy.

Today was one of those days.

A couple of my classmates and I were asked to come volunteer at a local elementary school and help with the Special Olympics they were having at their school. Being the good future Special Education student that I am, I hopped on board, thinking it was something that I should do, just for the mere fact I was getting my Masters in Special Education and it might look good in the future.

I showed up late (duh. However, I was going to be on time, but I got really lost!) Only my classmates and a couple teachers were on the field setting up the games when I arrived. It was foggy and the no-see-ums were in full force.

A few minutes after I arrived, classes started showing up dressed in orange, green, pink, yellow, and blue. There were a LOT of students and none that seemed to be obviously classes of students with special needs. I was slightly confused until I realized that THESE WERE THE FANS. Each class was there to support a class of students with special needs and had worn team colors. Beautiful.

After all the fans were in place, the athletes showed up marching proudly with banners leading the way, through the fans, around in a circle and into the middle of the crowd. Magically. The fans were yelling, shouting, chanting. It was loud on that field and a beautiful thing to see so many elementary students cheering, really cheering for their peers.

They had it all: the passing of the torch, the group of the marching band from the local high school played the national anthem, the color guard was there, the mayor gave the opening speech, and the sun popped out right as the games began! It was awesome.

There was so much excitement on those kids faces. I wish I could have really captured it.

As the games progressed, classes rotated from one station to the next. My station was the “balance beam,” where 3 foot long blue plastic pieces were put together on the ground. This is where the moments happened.

It was “John’s,”  turn. A boy with IDD (formerly MR), who travels by wheelchair, and is non-verbal. We had set up a sort of path to act as a balance beam for those student in wheelchairs, but no, John didn’t want to do that one. So, gently, his father, who was there to cheer him on, lifted him out of his chair, and helped John walk across this balance beam. It wasn’t a long balance beam. It was not tough to do. But there was something about seeing John’s dad lift his son out of his chair, carry him under his arms so John’s legs could tough the balance beam, and then rejoice with John when they reached the end. It was magical. It is exactly what our father does. It brought me to tears.

After John came a rambunctious little group! They were adorable. It was a general education class that had partnered with a special education class to go alongside them in the games and be their cheerleaders. And cheerleaders they were. Much like with John, a boy named R.J. wanted a chance to cross the balance beam out of his wheelchair. So his teacher gentle supported him under his arms so he could feel his feet on the balance beam. The entire, and I mean ENTIRE, surrounding group of about 20 students were chanting GO R.J! GO R.J! GO R.J! so loudly! Each of these students had just accomplished this what was a simple task for them, but they didn’t care. They were proud of their friend R.J. and wanted to cheer him on. I couldn’t hold back the tears on this one either. I was sitting in the midst of a glorious moment. A kid who is unlike his peers being made deaf by his classmates cheers. R.J., a kid who is normally bound to his wheelchair, was crossing this balance beam, not alone, but with the support of his peers, teacher, and mother waiting at the end for him.

Being with kids with special needs just reminds me of Jesus so much. God is so creative and so loving. He loves each one of those children so much. He loves me so much. He is always there to lift me out of my wheelchair and carry me across the balance beam. I cannot do this life without him and he uses moments like John or R.J. crossing that balance beam to remind me that he carries me and cheers me on. How great the Father’s love for us.