For years I’ve felt the pull to attend a Good Friday church service. And this year, I got the chance. Actually WE got the chance, since I took Super Dad and LuLu with me. That was a bit risky, knowing what I do about LuLu’s special needs and how her unique combination of trauma, attachment disorder, sensory integration dysfunction, ADHD, PDD and CAPD work against her being able to do new things like go into a new church, not know what to expect during a service, not know anyone else there, and be expected to sit quietly no matter what happens.

But she wanted to go because our youth pastor was one of the speakers, delivering the talk on the First of the Last Seven Words of Christ. “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.” That was the topic of the youth pastor’s talk. LuLu listened intently as she related that Jesus had been hurt, he had been shamed, he had been abused. LuLu’s face lit up. “I have too!” she responded. She continued to listen as the pastor pointed out that Jesus did not respond like a human would…with anger, rage, or trying to fight back. I saw the words and their impact on my frequently oppositional, always angry little one.

LuLu had to leave during the next speaker’s talk. He told the story of his grandfather dying and the pain of waiting for that to happen. It touched a nerve with LuLu, because we have found out in the last few days that Super Dad’s dad (LuLu’s grandfather) is of similar failing health and too frail at this point to operate. The prospect of an impending death is too much for our traumatized child, one who has been abandoned and sees death as yet another loss.

She returned after this speaker was done and made it through most of the service. One of the speakers talked about the hope that comes from Jesus saying “It is finished.” He talked about how Jesus could have said “forget it” or “this is too hard” “these people aren’t worth it” or “I give up.”

LuLu hung in there through speakers and songs until the last two speakers really riled up the crowd to applause and shouts of “Hallelujah!” Then LuLu’s sensory overload and CAPD kicked in and she started to melt. Still she was able to ask to leave (a marked improvement over rage), and was able to leave with only one cuss word on the way out the door.

I selfishly stayed inside, listening to the last two speakers and leaving before the closing remarks and hymns, to find LuLu and Super Dad in waiting, slightly agitated, in the car.

The rest of the day, LuLu was on edge. She had mustered up all her strength to be able to “survive” this new experience. It was hard, and since she didn’t make it all the way through the service, she saw this as a failure. I saw it as a victory…and a dream come true, since I finally got my wish to attend a Good Friday service after so many years of waiting.

We spent the afternoon working in the yard, and LuLu’s behavior could only be described as completely negative. She tried hard to pick fights and be as oppositional as she could, even though we were doing something she loved, working outside together as a family. But as she said blessing over the dinner tonight, I realized just how much her day had impacted her in a positive way. Her prayer was not the usually recited ditty. She said:

“Lord, I thank you that you did not say ‘I give up’ or ‘forget it’, but that you never give up on us. No matter how awful we are or how angry we get. I’m so glad you always forgive us.”

I guess I wasn’t the only one to get something out of the service!

Adopting special needs children is definitely a test of your faith and will grow you in your spiritual walk. Check out these articles from other parents of special needs children:

The Winning of Little Lynny
Living with Our Special Needs Child
Eating a Reality Sandwich

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