“For I know the thoughts that I think toward you,” says the Lord, “thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope.”
— Jeremiah 29:11 (NKJV)
This day started like most Sundays for our family—attending church service 🙏🏾, fellowshipping afterward 🍽️, and trying to stay connected with our faith community 💒. But like many days, being a mom of a child with Down syndrome comes with its own unexpected turns 🎢.
After service, we headed downstairs where the Women’s Ministry was selling food. Jalil, my son, was running around having the time of his life 🏃🏾♂️💨. I chatted with a few women while keeping my eyes on him—or at least trying my best to 👀. It’s that juggling act we as moms know all too well: trying to stay present in adult conversation while mentally tracking our kids in the background 🧠💬. I find myself doing this a lot. I have become a pro, might I add.
But in what felt like the blink of an eye, I turned and asked, “Where is Jalil?” 😳
No one knew.
And in that moment, my heart sank 💔. My thoughts spiraled to the worst places—everything that could go wrong in just a few seconds 😣. I blamed myself more times than I could count. I quickly told my daughters to run upstairs and check the sanctuary 🏃🏽♀️🏃🏽♀️. Then came the flood of emotions: panic, fear, guilt—all of it crashing down.
Thankfully, my daughter came back down and assured me that someone had found him upstairs and he was okay 🙌🏾. The relief that washed over me was overwhelming. He was safe, thank God 🕊️. But my nerves? Completely shaken.
Later that day, we had a graduation party 🎓🎉 for my husband’s younger cousin. I don’t usually like going places—especially on Sundays when I just want to be home, recharge, and prep for the week 🛋️🧘🏾♀️. But my husband had already bought us matching shirts, so I knew I had to show up 👕.
Jalil was full of energy (as always ⚡). People were arriving nonstop, and the space kept getting fuller. He found a balloon and started playing “keepy uppy” 🎈, chasing it around the room. I was keeping one eye on him, one on the propped-open front door 🚪, and still trying to greet people, tend to my daughters, and grab myself a little dessert 🍰.
And then—it happened again.
I looked around, and I couldn’t see him anywhere. That same panic returned—but stronger this time 😩. My heart raced. A lady came up to me and said, “Your son is on the stairs.” I jumped up and ran without even thinking! I didn’t even know where the stairs were. My mind immediately pictured the steep concrete stairs we passed outside on the way into the hall😱. So of course, my mind took me to a place where I imagined the worst possible outcome.
BUT PRAISE GOD—it wasn’t those stairs. I found him inside, giggling at the top of a small staircase, waiting for me to chase him 🥹💗.
And right then and there, that’s when it hit me: he doesn’t understand.
He doesn’t understand the danger he puts himself in when he runs off. He doesn’t understand the fear that floods my body when I can’t see him. He doesn’t know the weight I carry trying to keep him safe while also doing the everyday things—socializing, parenting, functioning in public.
And it’s not easy. At all. 😔
But even in those moments—especially in those moments—God. was. there.
At the time, I couldn’t fully appreciate it. In that moment, my fear was louder than my faith. But now, looking back, I can clearly see how God’s hand was on my son the entire time ✋🏾💫. It was His protection that kept Jalil safe—both at church and at the party, and in every moment of the day. It wasn’t chance. It was God’s covering. His grace. His mercy. His love.
And He continues to protect him, and us every day.
Jalil is our miracle baby 👶🏾✨. I know God didn’t bring us this far to leave us now. His strength sustains me in the chaos. His protection surrounds Jalil when we can’t. His peace calms my anxious heart 💓.
I can admit that I cried…. a lot 😢.
Some people might think ‘Oh, it’s nothing’. They may not understand the weight we carry as mothers—especially as special needs mamas 👩🏾🍼. The mental load. The constant alertness. The quiet fear that creeps in even on the best days. Some may think we’re just being dramatic.
But that’s okay—because God understands 💖.
He sees every tear we cry, even the silent ones. He knows the heaviness in our chest when we don’t have the words to say. He knows what it costs to show up every day—to be brave, to be loving, to be watchful, to be mom.
And He doesn’t just watch—He covers. He protects. He shows up when we can’t.
God’s protection kept Jalil that day as he is keeping him every day. His grace carried me. And even when I didn’t see it right away—I know it was Him. It always is.
To the mama who feels unseen—God sees you.
To the one who’s tired of being strong—He is your strength.
To the mama whose heart skips a beat every time her child disappears—you are not alone 🫂.
We are held.
Our children are covered.
And even in the chaos—God is still good ✨💕
A Little Extra Peace of Mind 💛
After that Sunday, I’m even more thankful for the little wrist link I use with Jalil in crowded places like the zoo, the parks, stores and even at the beach. It’s nothing fancy, but it keeps him close while still giving him the freedom to explore. I honestly don’t go to big events without it anymore.
If you’re curious, this is the one I have and it’s worked really well for us.
