Language of Our Own

Every mama has a secret language with her children. We can detect the need based on the pitch of a newborn’s cry. Mamas can read between the lines of teenagers. Mamas can hear an emergency in the way her name is called.

I thought about this today on our commute to school. My step-son talks to me about what goes on in his little mind. There is a trust there. He feels safe and I cherish that. Not many people have that with Jax.

He got some big news this morning. Jax is our child that does not adjust well to change. Jaxon has some diagnoses that make this difficult for him. Those same diagnoses also make him advanced in many other ways. They add to his “Jaxonness”. I would change nothing about that boy.

Jaxon is usually quiet on the way to school. He will answer about what he is most excited about for the day and say a prayer, but he sort of gets in his zone in order to prepare for the sights, sounds, and smells of school. On the quiet ride to school, Jaxon asked, “Steph, will you pick me up?”

I heard the tone. I read between the lines. I looked back at him. He gave me a look that I understand. I told him I would absolutely be there to get him. He looked relieved. I told him he could call me at any point during the day (he did) and I would be there (I was). As he got out of the truck he gave my husband and I a very tight hug.

He bravely walked into the school. Jax was not upset. He was not distraught. Jax was not angry. He was a six year old who needed to be seen. He was processing and adjusting in his own unique way.

I know this because I know his language. Understanding his diagnoses and understanding his reactions has given me insight. While I cannot relate, I absolutely get him.

I listen for his cues and prepare him as much as I can. A tantrum can mean a lot of things. “I am scared”, “It is really loud in here”, “I am really liking the way things are right now”, or “That was not in the plan”. I just had to learn his language.

I remember when my son, Ryder, was a toddler. He spoke very early and talked a lot! Imagine that! He would rattle on and I could follow. Loved ones would ask what he said and I would translate. It took a little bit, but I learned his language. Those are some of my favorite memories. His pronunciations were precious.

God has equipped us to understand a language specific to our children. He has given us a heart to understand, compassion to get out of the way, and a drive to make their lives better. He made us their voice. He helped us to know how to translate them to a world who may not comprehend them.

Isn’t that beautiful? You, Mama, are a bilingual diplomat. You, Mama, are a well-versed scholar. You, Mama, are their Rosetta Stone. You know the language and you know the heart. Keep on listening. ❤

1 Corinthians 14:10
There are, perhaps, a great many kinds of languages in the world, and no kind is without meaning.