Outliers, part 3: Rolling with it

Our son is a bona fide outlier in terms of his weight. He's got good motor and cognitive development for his age, but he hasn't really been gaining weight for the past year. Working with his pediatrician, we've kept an eye on it and kept giving him time to add some poundage, and it's never come.

So in February, we did a round of initial blood tests. These showed no reason why he wasn't gaining weight. So our doctor wanted to next check for cystic fibrosis. I have done very little reading about the disease because the name sounds so scary. But my understanding is that cystic fibrosis could be preventing him from absorbing the nutrients he needs to grow.

We went in for this test which measures the salt in his sweat. But he didn't sweat enough. So we're going to need to go in again which we'll do at the end of April. We could have scheduled earlier, but February was too full of tests. We all needed a break.

I think that people see positive outliers (those smarter, faster, taller, etc.) and think, man wouldn't that be wonderful and aren't those parents so lucky to have kids like that. And there are some great things about such a situation, but also some draw backs -- like what kind of bed and what kind of clothes did 7ft+ Yao Ming need?

Then I think that people see negative outliers (those sicker, dumber, slower, etc.) and think, isn't that terrible and aren't those parents so cursed to have kids like that? And as we peer into the (hopefully remote) possibility that we will care for a son with an awful disease, I don't think my heart is processing things that much differently.

Part of it is my own mess, from part 1, where I grieve the loss of "normality" that comes with giftedness. So grief for smarts? Check. Grief for illness? Check. But we're in a place where we don't know for either kid. There are signs and symptoms that suggest that our daughter's intellectual development may be ahead of her peers, and there are signs and symptoms that suggest our son may have cystic fibrosis or some other disease.

For now, we have to live by faith that God is providing what we need for today. And for May, if we discover our son does have a dread disease then we will move forward trusting that God will provide for that occasion. And if, in a year or two or three, we discover one or more of our children are unable to flourish in their school, then we will move forward trusting that God will provide for that occasion too.

UPDATE: links to Part 1 & Part 2

Outliers, part 2: Basic principles

As we watch our daughter develop, we wonder if she too will be an outlier and what does that mean for her and us? Here I mean that she seems to be doing somethings ahead of schedule, and I'm not excluding this possibility for our son, but he's not so startlingly precocious at the moment.

Because of my childhood experiences, I have gone through a period of mourning over this possibility concerned that being different from her agemates would bring her inevitable grief. But as I have processed my own stuff, I have also thought about foundational principles that I would like my child or any child to understand.

I think one such principle is that God created us individually for his pleasure and glory (see Isaiah chapter 43 for one expression of this). This was translated for me in a 6th grade chapel as "God does not make mistakes." What a life-giving message to hear as a preteen, one that I went back to many, many time as a teenager. I wish that every outlier who feels alone and "not right" or "not normal" would be gripped with the reality of a loving God delighting to imbue him or her with just such qualities.

And just as the Creator God gave individual attention to each person, a second principle I want for our children is that the Redeemer Christ died for all. Translated, this means every individual is of the same, glorious worth, bought back with the shed blood of Jesus. So for all the pain of being an outlier,  if you're out there in a socially approved way, smarter, faster, richer, more beautiful, etc. it's easy to believe that you're more special. And that, of course, is bupkis.

If we can communicate these two principles to our kids, I think their hearts will be well-prepared to handle life.

UPDATE: links to Part 1 & Part 3

Outliers, part 1: Someone had a bad day

In sixth grade, sometime at the end of math one day, the teacher handed back some graded something. As I was returning to my desk at the back of the class, L.O. stopped me and asked me, "What did you get?" I was kind of reluctant to tell her. She asked again, "What did you get?" I don't remember the grade, but just guessing, it was a 95 or 100 because that's just the way my math grades were. Then she said, "I hate you!" and stomped away.

I have lived for 20 years crushed by that encounter. When I think about how it felt to be effortlessly good at school, I think about that moment. Me being me was cause for a classmate to hate me, to see me with contempt.

I've been processing the experience of being an outlier lately and found that I kept running into grief. And when all roads led to this afternoon in sixth grade, I was finally able to reconfigure the moment. I had taken the experience completely personally which isn't surprising. Twelve year olds are only just coming into mature empathy and I was a late bloomer in that area. But with some perspective, I bet that L.O. was herself having a bad day. She was frustrated about her own grade and whatever else was going on in her life. Her pain was not meant for me, even though I carried it around for a long time.

It feels immensely freeing to give that memory and the emotional associations back to God. I've asked about half-a-dozen outlier friends about their childhood experiences and none of them seem to walk around wounded the way I was. I choose to believe that their positive experience is possible and that I had the more rare experience.

UPDATE: Links to Part 2 & Part 3