My Special-Needs Calling

Megan Royes | October 31, 2016

It was nearly four years ago when it happened. Four years ago when my firstborn was rushed into the world and whisked off to Neonatal Intensive Care. Four years ago when I heard the words, “Don’t get your hopes up; 24-week babies don’t stay around long.” Four years ago when I stood over the incubator of a one-pound baby and asked, Do I really want this job after all?

I had always longed to lead a life of significance, beginning in the fifth grade, when I set my sights on the U.S. presidency. I think God knew these deep longings, but also knew my heart’s propensity to settle for short-lived, cheap, cultural influence.

Perhaps that’s why he made me a mother.

Dual Callings

My primary calling is being a mother to a healthy 1-year-old son and a 4-year-old daughter with a severe feeding disability. It is a joyful, hopeful, sorrowful, tear-filled calling. Our days begin with bottle feedings and diaper changes, and end with bathtime, booktime, and bedtime kisses. And the hours in between? I make meals. I wipe messes. I stop fights. I fill bellies. I teach letters. I make blanket tents. I pick up puzzle pieces, and buckle carseats, and…

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