Our Church has a wonderful group of loving, compassionate souls who give of their time each Sunday as REACH Volunteers. While Rick and I worship in Church, these amazing people watch Josiah and other children with disabilities. They are fabulous with our kids and include them as much as possible with typically developing peers. We are so very grateful for this service provided free of charge and blessed to know Josiah is so well cared for.

Earlier this week, we received the following letter from Joanie, a woman who works very closely with all the volunteers and the children with special needs at our church. With her permission, I am sharing her letter, changing the name of the other child involved to ‘Max’.

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I heard a song the other day.  I just have to share it with you.  The singer is Laura Story. The song is called ‘Perfect Peace’.  It’s worth listening to when you get the chance.  You can find it on you tube or by doing an internet search. I hope it offers the same comfort to you  it does to me.  I’ve been clinging to these promises.

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I am grateful. Grateful for so many things. It would be easy to focus on frustrations and disappointments. It would be easy to become discouraged and even bitter maybe. It would be easy to wallow in self pity. I choose not to.

I have a friend battling a difficult disease. For many months she has had many obstacles to overcome. She is fighting for her life. Yet she is one of the most positive people I know. Her fight is not an easy one by any stretch of the imagination. She has an online journal for others to read. She writes when she is strong enough. She keeps us up to date on her progress. She inspires us.

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Angels come in all shapes and sizes. They come when you least expect them. They swoop in and seem to know exactly what you need. Even when you don’t. They are there right when you need them most.

I wonder sometimes. If we did not have a child with special needs, would it be different? Would we have had as many angel encounters?  Through Josiah we have met so many compassionate souls who go out of their way to serve and to love.

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Every night around 6:30 our phone would ring.  Josiah was calling.  We always knew.  Our only consistent daily contact with him while he was living one hour from home in a residential treatment center was our nightly phone calls.  I loved those calls.

The plan was for a staff member to dial the phone, hand it over to Josiah and leave the room so he could have some privacy during our conversations.  I knew it wouldn’t work that way.  I had handed Josiah a phone before.  He threw it.  That’s what he likes to do with things.

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