Things NOT To Say (and things to say instead)

1. “God doesn’t give you anything you can’t handle.”

Thanks, but no thanks. I’ve read quite a bit about this phrase in my quest to articulate why it’s not helpful, and I finally found something explaining my sentiments. This guy said it better than I could, so I'll just quote him.

“Many sufferers feel their suffering is beyond what they can bear. For these individuals, hearing the message “God won’t give you more than you can handle,” can communicate that they are not good enough or that something is wrong with their faith. This message that “God won’t give you more than you can handle” can also breed a self-focused and self-reliant way of thinking. The sufferers may feel they aren’t trying hard enough, or aren’t reading their Bibles thoroughly enough or aren’t praying fervently enough. They can experience guilt, shame, and doubt based on a misunderstanding of God’s Word. This unintended consequence of “God won’t give you more than you can handle” is antithetical to the gospel and must be refuted by gospel-oriented preachers and biblical counselors. When we feel weak and unable to persevere through suffering, we should not look to ourselves for help; we should look to God for help and hope. People who feel they are enduring more suffering than they can bear are not too weak, soft, or simply lacking in trust. Explaining that God may give more suffering than people can handle has been freeing and liberating for individuals I have known who are suffering through domestic abuse, illness, and other situations. These individuals were able to see that no matter how bad things got for them, God would give them the grace they need in every situation they faced.” (http://biblicalcounselingcoalition.org/2015/11/04/moving-beyond-god-wont-give-you-more-than-you-can-handle/)

2. “I’ll be praying for you” (with caveats)

Prayers are appreciated, I don’t want to insinuate otherwise. But I find most of the time people hear about our situation, say “I’ll be praying for you,” and that’s the end of the conversation. To me, it feels like people are uncomfortable, don’t know what to say or do, so they say that as their good deed for they day, then wash their hands of the situation or conversation because they don’t want to feel awkward. I understand not wanting to feel awkward, but come on. I’m clearly open about our situation, so ask me a question. Ask if there is anything else you can do. Tell me about a friend of a friend who went through something similar. Anything. No, I don’t ONLY want to talk about the unfortunate things and I want to be treated normally, but if the conversation drifts to Eli and his diagnosis (or lack thereof), just go with it for two minutes. It can be very cathartic to talk about what we’re going through, but I find most people don’t really want to hear it.

The caveat: a few weeks ago I was texting an acquaintance I really like. She knows about Eli. I don’t really remember how it came up, but she ended up asking me three specific ways she could pray for us, and what she could pray for ME about. It made me tear up; it’s one of the kindest things someone has said to me throughout this entire ordeal. I felt like she was GENUINELY interested and curious and she didn’t shy away from the topic the way most people do. There are people in my life who like to appear extremely devout and Christlike on the surface, and they haven’t even come close to showing the empathy this person did. It was, in my opinion, the most compassionate thing anyone has done for us so far. So take a note. I did, and I am going to try to remember this conversation in the future in case I am ever placed in a similar situation.

3. "I'm sorry [Eli has dwarfism]"

Full disclosure. I wrote the first two items on this list in about 10 minutes. But finishing this last one took me two weeks. I wanted to explain saying sorry for SOME things is fine. You're sorry I was at the doctor's office for three hours today waiting on a helmet adjustment? Thank you! You're sorry Eli is 11 months old and STILL doesn't sleep all night most of the time? Trust me, I'm sorry too. Are you sorry we were in the ER for six hours because when he gets sick it ends up being a huge ordeal? Awesome. Tell me you're sorry as you drop off Whataburger in our ER room. Believe me, there are a LOT of things I feel sorry for myself about on a daily basis. But I DON'T want people to feel sorry for us because of Eli's diagnosis (or lack thereof). So, I wanted to finish this post but I couldn't make myself type "Eli has dwarfism." I couldn't finish the sentence. I finally did it. I sat down, typed [Eli has, and then stared at the blinking cursor for at least 15 minutes. Then I made myself finish the sentence. Because even though we aren't sure, he probably DOES have dwarfism. And it's OKAY. He also has so many other things. He has the BEST personality. He has an obsession with petting Lucy and Gatsby anytime they are near. He has the best extended family in the world. He's about to have the best little cousin ever (my cousin is due with her first baby at the end of March). He is also GOING to have so many other things besides dwarfism. He's going to have three plane rides under his belt before he's 13 months old. He's going to visit Disney World every other year (ok...maybe closer to every year...). He's going to learn to snow ski. He's going to learn how to have compassion. And empathy. And how to stand up for himself, and for what's right. He also has, and will have for as long as we're alive, parents who fight for him and advocate for him and love every single thing about him. Even his short legs. There are a lot of things about this that suck. Not knowing what it's like to have a baby who isn't known by every phlebotomist at the hospital lab. Not being able to go a week without a doctors visit of some kind. Not being able to buy whatever clothes I want because I know if they don't fit I'll get irrationally depressed. But when I think about what life would be like if we had a "normal" baby...it just doesn't work. Because the only way we could have a "normal" baby would be if we didn't have Eli. And he's the one I want. Short legs and all.