by Pastor Sharon Ortiz, Pastor of Education
Every year, my husband and I attend a meeting at our son’s school called an IEP meeting. When you are in special education, as our son is, you get what is called an Individualized Education Plan. It is a legally binding document that states your unique needs when it comes to learning, any diagnoses or medical needs you have, current goals you are working toward, your progress on them, and any future goals you set. It lists the accommodations that you are entitled to, to ensure you get a fair chance at education in a system that is geared for typical learners. The contents of this plan go beyond just academics, and can include behavior, speech and language, and daily living goals as well. All these things are central to the whole child and their learning experience. An IEP mandates by law the resources my son can receive from his school. No two plans are alike. They are designed to meet each individual where they are, teach him at his level, and set him up for future success and growth. When all works together as intended, it is a wonderful thing.
The double edge in this picture is that in order to receive an IEP, you must first be deemed eligible for one; meaning, you must have an officially diagnosed disability. Needs are determined by how far your child measures against the typical standard. No matter how much your child has grown personally and how hard they have worked, it always stings to see in writing, that relative to “normal,” your child falls short, and thus, still qualifies for an IEP.
It is part of the emotional roller coaster of being a special needs parent. My son grows and amazes us every day. He has worked so hard–we all have–and come so far, but on paper, he is still lacking. And I know I shouldn’t care about a piece of paper. Like so many things, however, it is easier said than done. For a long time, I held onto the expectations in my heart that he might measure as “normal.” If he can just get in the lower end of standard, I’ll be happy. This kind of thinking was not only detrimental to me, it was unfair to my fearfully and wonderfully created son. He is exactly who he is supposed to be. Our measurements are what is arbitrary.
Diane Dokko Kim, disability ministry consultant and author, suggests that we all have an “Individualized Spiritual Plan.” No two of us are on the same spiritual journey. We are all at different places in our walk. Some of us have regressed. Some of us have accelerated. All of us fall short. Our good God meets each of us where we are, and gives us the exact tools we need. He knows all of our unique learning styles. He knows our weaknesses and our strengths. He sees us more than just what is on paper. He has good plans for us, a future and hope, and He sees His good work through to completion.
This year was the first year I did not cry during an IEP. This year, I was able to see my son for who he is on his own journey, and just that. I was able to see that he is thriving. He has met all but one of his goals. I remember just a short year ago when we set these goals, in collaboration with his teacher—who is amazing and to whom I attribute much of our success— and thinking just how lofty they were. I was doubtful that he would meet them, perhaps as a way of protecting my own heart and not wanting to be set up for disappointment. But he has. And the only one limiting him was me and my doubt.
As we close out 2022 and look ahead to 2023, I invite you to take some time to sit with our Father, the perfect teacher, and set some goals for your future. He knows what you’ve been through. He knows where you are. He knows where you want to be, and chances are, He has even loftier dreams for your life than you can imagine. Don’t compare your journey to any one else’s–this conjures nothing but discontentment–and don’t limit what He can do in your life when you give your plans to Him. May you embrace the new year full of hopes and joy. May you give yourself grace on your own journey. May you be sensitive to His voice that leads you and His counsel that guides you. And, may you thrive in the center of His will for your life.
Ok, so I might have cried at this year’s IEP. But this time they were tears of joy. I’m just so proud of him.