Christmas, with last-minute shopping and crammed calendars, often feels like trying to stuff ten gallons of happy chaos into a five-gallon stocking. Hopefully we find a few moments to picture that long-ago Bethlehem night. A young mother, a newborn baby, drowsy cattle, bewildered shepherds, even harmonizing angels. Familiar, yes. Amazing, always.
One character is easily overlooked in that scene: a man named Joseph. We don’t know much about him. Hometown? Nazareth, about 80 miles from Bethlehem. Day job? Carpenter. After that night we hear very little about him. But let’s add one item to his Linked In profile: Joseph of Nazareth, earthly father of Jesus, was a special-needs dad.
Today that describes a father of a child with a disability: autism, Down’s, CP, or dozens of other conditions. (Those kids are easily overlooked, too, but that’s another story). I feel confident in giving Joseph that label, because I’m one, too, a special-needs dad of two sons with disabilities.
How does Joseph qualify? Think about it. The birth of his first child was anything but “normal,” taking place not in a hospital, but in a barn. Not attended by caring helpers, but by livestock. It certainly wasn’t the “normal” birth that Joseph had wanted or expected. Little did he know how “special” his Child was going to be.
We don’t know much about the early years for that family. A few odd stories appeared later about young Jesus turning mud pies into flying birds to impress his playmates. The Bible tells us that when Jesus was 12, on a family trip to Jerusalem, he went missing for three days. I heard from a father about his little boy named Austin who is eight and autistic. Austin loves to sneak out of the house to explore his neighborhood. One day his mom found him hanging out with a crew of workmen who were re-paving their street. Not exactly like Jesus’ three-day adventure in a Temple with religious scholars, but unnerving just the same.
Yes, Joseph was a special-needs dad. His son didn’t fit the norms. There were days, I’m sure, when that was hard for this father. Early on he wondered if he could handle all he was facing. “Maybe it would be better to leave Mary so I can get on with my life.” Very honest. Very normal. If you’re a special-needs dad, maybe you’ve faced similar crisis points.
My first son, Matthew, was born in 1980 with spina bifida. Decades of medical crises had me questioning my limits. I recently asked a long-time counselor of special-needs families how it looks today. “Very often now there’s no dad present,” she told me.
Through ups and downs, by God’s grace, I’m hanging in there. My hope is that dads like us—perhaps you are one or know one—will hang in there, too. Our kids need us. Joseph hung in there, becoming a quiet role model of perseverance. He didn’t get a starring role in that Nativity scene, but he was there and played a key part in making that Story happen. Thanks, Joseph and Merry Christmas.
If you’re a special‑needs dad, you might appreciate my book Dads Like Us: A Survival Guide for Fathers Raising a Child with Disabilities.
