This is a question I've heard posed in the past and think about often. Will there be Down syndrome in Heaven? My answer is yes. Unequivocally yes. Let me tell you why.
The Bible says, in Revelations 21:4; "He will wipe away ever tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away." This verse is about the healing we will see in heaven. God does not promise us physical healing in this lifetime. Even those that are saved are not promised physical health. Jesus died on the cross to ultimately bring us spiritual healing and to allow us to be saved by faith; to allow us a personal relationship with God. He did not come here to make life easier.
I don't feel that Down syndrome is something Lauren needs to be healed of. In fact, it's not something I would take away from her. Of course I would wish to take away the struggles she will face; the teasing she will likely endure at some point in the future, the discrimination that is inevitable in a society that values productivity above all else. I would give just about anything to ensure this would never happen to her at all. But I wouldn't give up that extra 21st chromosome.
Lauren's diagnosis brought me to my lowest point thus far. I have never been so weak, so unable to grasp the possibility of a future, than when we found out Lauren would be born with Down syndrome. I was truly in the depths of despair. But the Lord shows is strength in our weaknesses. I felt so abandoned by God. I felt I must have done something absolutely horrible to deserve such a fate. I did not plan my life to include a child with special needs. Even after she was born and I fell in love with her, I searched high and low in my heart and in my past to try to find that elusive thing, the one that made me deserve her. The five stages of grief were alive and well in my brain. Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance. It was a five-act play that never stopped, didn't happen in order, and will likely never truly end. Denial? Not me, I'm too young and this only happens to other people. Anger? How could my God forsake me this way? Bargaining? I begged God to take this burden from me. Depression? I felt so utterly alone. Acceptance? I'd choose her time and time again.
The truth is, the stages of grief don't happen in order. Grief isn't linear and it's never really a finished process. Acceptance? Not a problem on days she speaks in full sentences, comes up with clever jokes, writes her name. Depression? The days her elopement takes over my life and makes me again feel so utterly alone. On those days I doubt myself and my ability to be a mother, much less her mother. Denial? My child is just the smart child with Down syndrome that's ever lived. Anger? Lets talk about how it feels when someone tries to limit my child. My anger might not necessarily be directed at Down syndrome during those times but it's certainly the root cause. Bargaining? If He would just make her a little less busy I could have more time to do things like read my Bible, be a better friend, a better wife.
If I took away her extra chromosome, I'd run the risk of taking away the very essence that makes her Lauren. What if she didn't giggle until she almost falls over? What if she didn't stamp her little foot when she gets mad? What if she didn't call us "MommyDaddy" like we're one entity? What if the twinkle in her eye that makes her look so very alive disappeared? What if she didn't make friends with every person she meets? These are her best qualities, things I never knew I needed in a child until it happened. On the flip side, what if we took it away and she stopped running from us? What if she could learn at the same rate as other kids? What if she'd been born without a broken heart? What if she were less stubborn and easier to parent? But the truth is there are no guarantees in this life for any person, any child, any situation.
The truth is, Lauren has changed me as a person in so many ways. I'm more patient (at least in theory). I'm more understanding of people's differences. When I had her my whole world opened up to things I'd likely never experience without her. I've met a whole community of other families who have children with Down syndrome and other disabilities. I have a job that is so much more than a job, a place that allows me to share in the triumphs and sorrows of families on a similar journey to mine. She took away my ability to hide my head in the sand from true sorrow and despair. But she's opened my heart to joy I thought was unattainable until she was placed in my arms. It is true that she's not easy. And our family faces struggles that many families will never understand. She is definitely molding our lives into something much different than I would have chosen in the beginning; for myself, my marriage, my son. But different is not always defective. She is exactly who she was always meant to be.
All of those things said, Lauren's purpose in life is no different than any other person's purpose. Her purpose in life is not to teach me about patience, kindness, goodness, generosity, peace, or love. Does she help teach me all of these things? Absolutely. So does Ryan, in a completely different way. Her purpose is not to make people smile, to change stereotypes everywhere (though I'm sure she's doing this too). Galations 5: 22-23 teaches us this, "But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self control; against such things there is no law." Having a child with Down syndrome, having Lauren, has taught me so much more about pursuing all that is good.
According to the Bible, man's purpose is to glorify God. And Lauren is no different. "everyone who is called by my name, whom I created for my glory, whom I formed and made." By this reasoning, Lauren is exactly who she is supposed to be. I can't imagine the Lord would change her in Heaven.
Revelation 21:4He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”