Twenty years ago today was a pivotal, life-altering day in my life. I remember it like yesterday.
I remember going to school and sitting in the gym...feeling like an elephant was on my chest.
I remember making it to first hour, and just needing to go home.
I remember my teacher, Miss Smith, mocked me and said to me, "Next time, come to school when you are healthy."
I remember my dad picking me up from school in the little black Nissan-full of irritation because he was in the middle of a bathroom remodel. (He loathes house maintenance!)
I remember him sending me up to bed-you don't get to come home from school and play!
I remember where my bed was-against the wall, in the corner.
I remember hearing dad come up the stairs, thinking I was sleeping, and me making sure he heard me wheezing.
I remember the doctor's office. He checked my breathing, but no pneumonia, no pleurisy.
I remember him walking out of the office to check a medical book.
I remember sitting on the table, looking at my dad, begging him to ask a question to the doctor.
I remember the little cup of water.
I remember the finger stick-I even remember the big meter they used.
I remember the doctor walking out again.
I remember my dad's tears...my heartbreak for his pain...and my confusion.
I remember going home to pack.
I remember the suitcase I used.
I remember my dad's phone call (from home...this was before cell phones!) to my mom, telling her we were going to Children's.
I remember her response-thinking he was trying to cover for breaking one of the bathroom tiles she had bought!
I remember the plastic chair I sat in outside of the Admissions desk.
I remember the bed, and the sudden amount of flurry.
I remember my first IV, the veins rolling, me trying to be still, the pain!
I remember Joan, my nurse. "You can be anything you want to be, except a missionary...but why would you want to do that?!?"
I remember the intern doctor I thought was awfully handsome. (Give a girl a break...I was 13!)
I remember the visitors-I had a lot of visitors!
I remember the balloons-some even had my name on them.
I remember the teddy bear with the pacifier and the pens dad bought me.
I remember the praying bear Church bought, with satin angel wings.
I remember the hospital pull-out bed my mom slept in.
I remember the hourly arm or finger sticks they did.
I remember the team of doctors and nurses talking about how "lucky" I was-a few more hours, and I would have been in a coma, that would have caused my death.
I remember waiting to be "cured," for when this crazy roller coaster could be over, and I could go back to drinking a Super-sized Mello Yello without trying to figure out how many carbs were in it.
Like I said, a pivotal day in my life. What I saw as punishment, God used as a refining fire to draw me to His desires for me. To limit me, so I would have to listen to Him. To help me to see how many abundant blessings He poured out on me. To never take for granted life, and to appreciate the lives He graciously entrusted to me. I learned that faith is not measured, the body will fail no matter how "healthy" we appear, and that we are only sustained each day by His loving, gracious, and sovereign Hand. And I am grateful.
Friday, September 26, 2014
Monday, September 8, 2014
To Cry or Not to Cry
It was a rough morning. Saying anything different would be a pretty big lie. He didn't want to get up. He didn't want to get dressed. He didn't want to eat. He didn't want to brush his teeth or go to the bathroom. He let me know loudly and with tears. The list could go on, but I'm sure you get the idea. We finally got out of the door, into the car, and drove the two minutes to school...edging on the late side, but close. I prayed with him as we walked up to school, and he was settled for a moment. A police officer was on the sidewalk, making sure kids and parents were following the street crossing rules. I was going to stop and "introduce" Titus to him, I don't want him afraid of those who protect him! As we walked by, Titus said, "Oh! Hello Officer!" My surprise and joy bubbled right out of my mouth, and I didn't even care. I was thrilled to the point of verbal exclamation that my precious boy knew, respected, and acknowledged the officer. The officer greeted Titus, they shook hands (melt my heart!!!), and then we proceeded on.
As we neared his entrance door, things started going south. I got down on my knees, and held him. Another prayer, some back rubbing, and a few kisses to try to calm him and let him know how much I love him. Then, we sat on the sidewalk, waiting for his teacher. She came out along with one the extra staff assigned to the room. Titus was ready to run-pacing, crying, and verbalizing his desire to go home. I looked to one of them, and asked her what they would prefer I do. She told me to leave him there, and walk away. I cannot express the vice-grip fear took at that moment. If you've ever had a strong child run away, or watched an unknowing toddler run in front of a car, then you will know the almost paralyzing amount of fear I had. I walked away, terrified at any moment I would see him darting toward the street. As I walked down the sidewalk, other mom's were discussing their child's new friends in class. The majority were in his class, but no one brought up his name. So, I braced my shoulders, and walked as quickly to my car as I could. Don't cry, not yet.
An eternity later, I got to the car. Breathe deep, don't cry, be tough. I kept thinking this to myself over and over. A moment later, a still and small voice chastened me. Bring your tears to Jesus. I think it will be one of those moments I will never forget. For the first time in my life, I realized Jesus was waiting for me to crumple into His arms. He completely knew and understood the heart-wrenching pain of a hurt child who is not relating to his peers. I did not have to bare them alone. I didn't even have to just, "take His hand." I could fall-weak, broken, afraid...terrified, into His waiting arms, and He would comfort as only He can. So, I cried. Not the puffy-faced "poor me" cry, but a joy-filled release that let Jesus heal. I'm sure I cannot put into adequate words how freeing it was to know that I am incredibly "not tough" and Jesus wants me that way-and meets me right where my knees fail (even when I'm sitting up and driving a car).
As we neared his entrance door, things started going south. I got down on my knees, and held him. Another prayer, some back rubbing, and a few kisses to try to calm him and let him know how much I love him. Then, we sat on the sidewalk, waiting for his teacher. She came out along with one the extra staff assigned to the room. Titus was ready to run-pacing, crying, and verbalizing his desire to go home. I looked to one of them, and asked her what they would prefer I do. She told me to leave him there, and walk away. I cannot express the vice-grip fear took at that moment. If you've ever had a strong child run away, or watched an unknowing toddler run in front of a car, then you will know the almost paralyzing amount of fear I had. I walked away, terrified at any moment I would see him darting toward the street. As I walked down the sidewalk, other mom's were discussing their child's new friends in class. The majority were in his class, but no one brought up his name. So, I braced my shoulders, and walked as quickly to my car as I could. Don't cry, not yet.
An eternity later, I got to the car. Breathe deep, don't cry, be tough. I kept thinking this to myself over and over. A moment later, a still and small voice chastened me. Bring your tears to Jesus. I think it will be one of those moments I will never forget. For the first time in my life, I realized Jesus was waiting for me to crumple into His arms. He completely knew and understood the heart-wrenching pain of a hurt child who is not relating to his peers. I did not have to bare them alone. I didn't even have to just, "take His hand." I could fall-weak, broken, afraid...terrified, into His waiting arms, and He would comfort as only He can. So, I cried. Not the puffy-faced "poor me" cry, but a joy-filled release that let Jesus heal. I'm sure I cannot put into adequate words how freeing it was to know that I am incredibly "not tough" and Jesus wants me that way-and meets me right where my knees fail (even when I'm sitting up and driving a car).
Thursday, June 12, 2014
Taken For Granted
I began a list. This list is slightly different, and not necessarily inspired by a quite famous book circulating among Christian ladies at the moment. (NOT that there is anything wrong with her list!) I think sometimes, in the mundane/the "normal" it is easy to take for granted things that don't come to every parent (or child). As I have written about "several" times before, the Lord in His gracious sovereignty has given me two special boys who have truly helped me see amazement and wonder in the normality of daily life.
Things I will never take for granted:
1. Shoes-and the ability to wear them
2. Socks-whether they have Spiderman (his first pair ever!), Avengers, Skylanders...and now just plain ole' white ones...a little boy willing to wear them.
3. Cookies-you would be amazed at how helpful a cheap, off-brand oreo can be to encourage a will to bend.
4. Giggles-there was a long time in which screaming was a LOT more prevalent than a belly laugh in our home.
5. Hugs-After a meltdown.
6. Hugs-spontaneous, for no reason at all.
7. A loving teacher-we have been abundantly blessed to have two years of amazing teachers who have loved our (sometimes unlovable) son.
8. Words-they took SO long to come! Whether the word is simple and a statement in and of itself, or a whole sentence-amazing! The words are different than others' might be, but they are his, and they communicate...and it is awesome.
9. A wave-the releasing of me. The "it's okay momma, I'll stay here" kind. The "I trust you to come back, and I'll go in" gesture...that sometimes comes with a blowing kiss.
10. A hug and a kiss goodbye-sometimes two or three times before he can walk into school...making sure that I know he loves me...and wanting to be reassured in my love for him. And I love it each time. Sadly, I've seen other mom's on their second round of "goodbyes" get irritated at their child-yelling at them to get into school/back into line. I hope his last forever...but when he hits that age that boys do...when it's just not "okay" to show physical affection to your momma anymore, I'll have some sweet memories. And yes, other mom, I see you scoff...and I'll take your scoff any day to have an extra moment with my boy.
11. A hand slipping into mine-melts me EVERY time! He has just finally reached the point where he doesn't run away with every glimpse of freedom, and will actually slip his hand into mine, walking right beside me. I'm not going to lie...it has caused me to tear up more than once.
12. Siblings playing happily together-SO much training has gone to get even a few minutes of this wonderment. The grace displayed by (especially) the older two at times to achieve happy harmony is amazing evidence of the Lord's love of our family.
13. Obedience/Cooperation-Just last night, he obeyed when I asked him to pick up his cars (scattered all over the living room). This used to be an impossible feat. But, last night, he did it. He was excited to obey, and I was just so amazed at how far he has come-and hugged him tight enough to make him wince.
As I stated, this list is so far from exhaustive. So much of these improvements/advancements have come in the last year. It is so overwhelming (in SUCH a good way!) to watch him grow. Psalm 139 states that from the womb, God knit every person together-designing and forming in His perfect way. I get to stop and bask in the glow of His creation in my little ones. It is beautiful and wonderful and so many other adjectives. It is not easy, it is humbling, and it is unsure. I think that is one of the most amazing things He has taught me. I don't know what the future holds, but I know Who holds the future...and that is finally okay with me. (Not that it matters, since it is the truth.) As I've been teaching my older two, God designed our family in the perfect way. He knew we would all love each other better than anyone else in the world. He knew we needed the challenge to draw us to Him, and He loves us enough to want us to run to Him when it is difficult. And that is quite hard to take for granted.
Things I will never take for granted:
1. Shoes-and the ability to wear them
2. Socks-whether they have Spiderman (his first pair ever!), Avengers, Skylanders...and now just plain ole' white ones...a little boy willing to wear them.
3. Cookies-you would be amazed at how helpful a cheap, off-brand oreo can be to encourage a will to bend.
4. Giggles-there was a long time in which screaming was a LOT more prevalent than a belly laugh in our home.
5. Hugs-After a meltdown.
6. Hugs-spontaneous, for no reason at all.
7. A loving teacher-we have been abundantly blessed to have two years of amazing teachers who have loved our (sometimes unlovable) son.
8. Words-they took SO long to come! Whether the word is simple and a statement in and of itself, or a whole sentence-amazing! The words are different than others' might be, but they are his, and they communicate...and it is awesome.
9. A wave-the releasing of me. The "it's okay momma, I'll stay here" kind. The "I trust you to come back, and I'll go in" gesture...that sometimes comes with a blowing kiss.
10. A hug and a kiss goodbye-sometimes two or three times before he can walk into school...making sure that I know he loves me...and wanting to be reassured in my love for him. And I love it each time. Sadly, I've seen other mom's on their second round of "goodbyes" get irritated at their child-yelling at them to get into school/back into line. I hope his last forever...but when he hits that age that boys do...when it's just not "okay" to show physical affection to your momma anymore, I'll have some sweet memories. And yes, other mom, I see you scoff...and I'll take your scoff any day to have an extra moment with my boy.
11. A hand slipping into mine-melts me EVERY time! He has just finally reached the point where he doesn't run away with every glimpse of freedom, and will actually slip his hand into mine, walking right beside me. I'm not going to lie...it has caused me to tear up more than once.
12. Siblings playing happily together-SO much training has gone to get even a few minutes of this wonderment. The grace displayed by (especially) the older two at times to achieve happy harmony is amazing evidence of the Lord's love of our family.
13. Obedience/Cooperation-Just last night, he obeyed when I asked him to pick up his cars (scattered all over the living room). This used to be an impossible feat. But, last night, he did it. He was excited to obey, and I was just so amazed at how far he has come-and hugged him tight enough to make him wince.
As I stated, this list is so far from exhaustive. So much of these improvements/advancements have come in the last year. It is so overwhelming (in SUCH a good way!) to watch him grow. Psalm 139 states that from the womb, God knit every person together-designing and forming in His perfect way. I get to stop and bask in the glow of His creation in my little ones. It is beautiful and wonderful and so many other adjectives. It is not easy, it is humbling, and it is unsure. I think that is one of the most amazing things He has taught me. I don't know what the future holds, but I know Who holds the future...and that is finally okay with me. (Not that it matters, since it is the truth.) As I've been teaching my older two, God designed our family in the perfect way. He knew we would all love each other better than anyone else in the world. He knew we needed the challenge to draw us to Him, and He loves us enough to want us to run to Him when it is difficult. And that is quite hard to take for granted.
Tuesday, April 29, 2014
Four Mornings a Week
Four mornings per week, for three hours, my life is so calm. Calm, quiet, smooth...almost easy. My older two play...sometimes even quarrel, but all things considered, are not difficult. There is no screeching, little screaming, and even a little cleaning. Beds get made, teeth get brushed, clothes get changed, breakfast gets served-eaten and cleared, and then some schoolwork gets done. Richard gets his lunch made, we might even sit and have a cup of coffee (mine is decaf...but it still tastes a little like coffee...), and can actually have a small conversation before he heads to work. If necessary, I can even run to the store quickly with the older two, and we get in and get out with relative ease.
No matter how you slice it, four sinners under one roof can lead to issues...especially when I am one of those sinners... But, it is easy. Now, when I only had those two little cute ones, I had no idea how easy it was. I had never been pushed to my absolute limit-and beyond that limit. Frankly, I had never realized how completely and totally dependent I am on the Lord to parent each and every moment of my life. If you have already realized this-you have much more wisdom than I had...and probably still have. I had never realized how patient I could be when I had no other choice. If my older two had pushed me the same way, my reaction would not have been patience (to put it mildly).
I never worried about my kids learning and hearing the Gospel. Now, my understanding of the Gospel has been radically transformed in the past year-and-a-half, so I had some bad theology that needed to be fixed. In reality, though, I believed if I parented "well enough," said the "right things," and let them know church was where I wanted to be not had to be, they would get themselves right with God. Like I stated, I had some bad theology!
Honestly, as "easy" as those twelve hours are per week, I cannot wait for my boys to be home. I am so grateful for my little gifts from God, who stretch me so much more than anything ever has. The quiet distracts me after a few minutes. I keep turning around waiting for those little feet to step on my heels. I am so grateful that I know I cannot go to the Zoo or even the store without help-I am utterly dependent on others to make it through some of the "normal" things of a day. How prideful I was (and still am!), and how easy was it to be, when I could be so independent...aka dependent on myself. The Lord graciously gave me so much more than I could handle, so I would finally depend on Him. He also had to teach me the hard way that not everything is worth defending. It is quite difficult for me to let someone else think I am wrong on any matter-especially parenting. (Another area for pride to be prevalent!) In the not-so-spiritual words of Anna and Elsa, I had to "let it go!"
Parenting little ones with special needs is not easy. There are days I wonder if I am doing anything right. There are moments of utter heartbreak. There are also sweet, precious moments I would overlook or miss if I didn't realize what amazing miracles they are. I would miss so many blessings-they are there for everyone, everyday, but I would not have seen them. Somehow, God used "special needs" to show me my "neediness" and His love. That is a miracle.
No matter how you slice it, four sinners under one roof can lead to issues...especially when I am one of those sinners... But, it is easy. Now, when I only had those two little cute ones, I had no idea how easy it was. I had never been pushed to my absolute limit-and beyond that limit. Frankly, I had never realized how completely and totally dependent I am on the Lord to parent each and every moment of my life. If you have already realized this-you have much more wisdom than I had...and probably still have. I had never realized how patient I could be when I had no other choice. If my older two had pushed me the same way, my reaction would not have been patience (to put it mildly).
I never worried about my kids learning and hearing the Gospel. Now, my understanding of the Gospel has been radically transformed in the past year-and-a-half, so I had some bad theology that needed to be fixed. In reality, though, I believed if I parented "well enough," said the "right things," and let them know church was where I wanted to be not had to be, they would get themselves right with God. Like I stated, I had some bad theology!
Honestly, as "easy" as those twelve hours are per week, I cannot wait for my boys to be home. I am so grateful for my little gifts from God, who stretch me so much more than anything ever has. The quiet distracts me after a few minutes. I keep turning around waiting for those little feet to step on my heels. I am so grateful that I know I cannot go to the Zoo or even the store without help-I am utterly dependent on others to make it through some of the "normal" things of a day. How prideful I was (and still am!), and how easy was it to be, when I could be so independent...aka dependent on myself. The Lord graciously gave me so much more than I could handle, so I would finally depend on Him. He also had to teach me the hard way that not everything is worth defending. It is quite difficult for me to let someone else think I am wrong on any matter-especially parenting. (Another area for pride to be prevalent!) In the not-so-spiritual words of Anna and Elsa, I had to "let it go!"
Parenting little ones with special needs is not easy. There are days I wonder if I am doing anything right. There are moments of utter heartbreak. There are also sweet, precious moments I would overlook or miss if I didn't realize what amazing miracles they are. I would miss so many blessings-they are there for everyone, everyday, but I would not have seen them. Somehow, God used "special needs" to show me my "neediness" and His love. That is a miracle.
Wednesday, February 5, 2014
For the Sake of ONE Soul
For the sake of ONE Soul, would you:
*Risk your "reputation" at work to tell someone hurting the Good News?
*Spend a few thousand dollars to travel halfway across the Globe, giving up personal vacation time to give up sleep, comfort, and possibly your health to share the Gospel with the hungry souls looking for Hope?
*Spend hours each week preparing a lesson to teach those ungrateful, uncaring, badly behaved kids in your Sunday School class-with the hope of them FINALLY hearing the His Word?
*Spend thousands of hours, hundreds of dollars, beg people to show up, decorate, plan, re-plan, find new workers-all for ONE week (20 hours or so) of a Vacation Bible School-even if you have low attendance, and NO ONE wants to help-for the sake of that ONE LOST SHEEP?
*Give up your hopes of ever being "rich" to go to Bible school, spending half of your life studying to Preach the Word, only to have many people tell you what a "waste of talent" you are-for the sake of His Kingdom?
*Go on nationalized television to debate a known atheist-knowing FULL WELL he will NOT change his mind-because one of the people watching or listening might actually come to a saving knowledge of Christ?
*Decide to set aside your expensive college education to be home with your kids-hearing all the time what a "waste of talent" your life is-to make sure you devote your life to sharing Christ with your kids?
*Gasp-Move to a country where you MIGHT DIE just for speaking His Name-might be imprisoned for bringing HIS WORD into the country-might be tortured-might watch your family be destroyed-for the one whose ETERNITY has been forever altered by the Truth you were willing to share?
There are so many more examples of those who have willingly laid down their lives, their time, their "talents", their hopes and dreams for the sake of just ONE. I am passionate about this, because it is so easy to set it aside. If we truly, I mean TRULY understood the hell of hell, we might actually get fired up to do something about it. Yes, this post was brought together because of the debate-Ken Ham v. Bill Nye. But it was SO much more than that. I would believe Ham knew Nye was not going to change. But, if you listened to what Ham said, you knew who he was speaking to, and Who he was speaking for. Although I am quite certain Ham would love to see Nye come to a saving knowledge of Christ, there were thousands and thousands of people listening who are on their way to hell-and he KNEW it. Did you see his passion? Did you see his tears? I did. Ham has to walk around with a security team because those who hate God want. him. dead. He knew what he was facing. Do we? Do we see the sheep JUMPING OVER THE EDGE every single day-to a certain eternal death? So, instead of criticizing those who would sacrifice something or everything for just one sheep-perhaps we should hit our knees for them-then get up and get to work ourselves.
*Risk your "reputation" at work to tell someone hurting the Good News?
*Spend a few thousand dollars to travel halfway across the Globe, giving up personal vacation time to give up sleep, comfort, and possibly your health to share the Gospel with the hungry souls looking for Hope?
*Spend hours each week preparing a lesson to teach those ungrateful, uncaring, badly behaved kids in your Sunday School class-with the hope of them FINALLY hearing the His Word?
*Spend thousands of hours, hundreds of dollars, beg people to show up, decorate, plan, re-plan, find new workers-all for ONE week (20 hours or so) of a Vacation Bible School-even if you have low attendance, and NO ONE wants to help-for the sake of that ONE LOST SHEEP?
*Give up your hopes of ever being "rich" to go to Bible school, spending half of your life studying to Preach the Word, only to have many people tell you what a "waste of talent" you are-for the sake of His Kingdom?
*Go on nationalized television to debate a known atheist-knowing FULL WELL he will NOT change his mind-because one of the people watching or listening might actually come to a saving knowledge of Christ?
*Decide to set aside your expensive college education to be home with your kids-hearing all the time what a "waste of talent" your life is-to make sure you devote your life to sharing Christ with your kids?
*Gasp-Move to a country where you MIGHT DIE just for speaking His Name-might be imprisoned for bringing HIS WORD into the country-might be tortured-might watch your family be destroyed-for the one whose ETERNITY has been forever altered by the Truth you were willing to share?
There are so many more examples of those who have willingly laid down their lives, their time, their "talents", their hopes and dreams for the sake of just ONE. I am passionate about this, because it is so easy to set it aside. If we truly, I mean TRULY understood the hell of hell, we might actually get fired up to do something about it. Yes, this post was brought together because of the debate-Ken Ham v. Bill Nye. But it was SO much more than that. I would believe Ham knew Nye was not going to change. But, if you listened to what Ham said, you knew who he was speaking to, and Who he was speaking for. Although I am quite certain Ham would love to see Nye come to a saving knowledge of Christ, there were thousands and thousands of people listening who are on their way to hell-and he KNEW it. Did you see his passion? Did you see his tears? I did. Ham has to walk around with a security team because those who hate God want. him. dead. He knew what he was facing. Do we? Do we see the sheep JUMPING OVER THE EDGE every single day-to a certain eternal death? So, instead of criticizing those who would sacrifice something or everything for just one sheep-perhaps we should hit our knees for them-then get up and get to work ourselves.
Saturday, October 19, 2013
Confessions of This Momma
I actually had another post started a couple of weeks ago, but have been unable to finish it. Instead, that one got sent to the "drafts" box, and this one poured out. The following is a list coming from my heart about life with my special guys:
1. Walking behind another mom picking up her four-year-old, I get a little nostalgic...and a little sad. Your gabby little one is telling you all about her day. The friends, the blocks, the special parts of her morning, all in a whirlwind of quick speech and bouncing all over the sidewalk while gripping your hand. My sweet guy runs out of the school, grabs a hold of me, smiles, and hangs on tight. He is too tired to walk, so I get to carry him (perhaps I will eventually have arms like Hulk...my kids aren't so little!). He holds on tight, and I relish the few moments of walking to the Truck, slower than normal, because you and your little one are engaged in conversation.
2. I love Church. A lot. It is the highlight of my week, and more anticipated than I can explain. It also carries some nerves. I don't know if he'll go in. I don't know if he will run, scream, or start thrashing, even though just a few moments ago he was just fine. We have a routine, but sometimes even the schedule of routine isn't enough. We know his teacher's love him, serve him, and want him to join in...it isn't them. It's just Sunday morning, and he is tired from his week, and that is that.
3. I love being outside. Shocking to some, I'm sure, but I love running. I used to take the kids on a walk everyday...sometimes more than one/day, just to be outside or go to the parks that are close. I honestly cannot remember the last time I walked with them. We can't anymore. He runs away, and has no fear of anything. That car that refuses to follow the speed limit threatens my guys' life. He will never be able to stop in time when my guy runs into the street. So we don't go. Controlled park times-we drive, and it is fenced, and I am vigilant at all times are our game, now. I can guarantee I am never the mom too busy on her phone... I am a mom who looks like she is watching an intense game of ping pong, constantly looking for the happy little heads bouncing around the playground, making sure a whim hasn't pulled him away.
4. I used to constantly be on-the-go. Going here and there, going everywhere. (Sorry, my daughter is deeply into Dr. Seuss right now!) No more. I just finally came to the conclusion that I cannot even go to the store with my guy. He just cannot handle it after school. He is too tired, too frayed, and at the first opportunity, he will become the screaming, flailing, Hulk that lives close to the surface, that this momma can barely keep safe. Break. My. Heart.
5. I have hopes and dreams. And those hopes and dreams have had to be turned over to the Lord and offered as a sacrifice. Because they are not His plans. Not for my life, not for my guys' lives, not as a punishment, but as a testimony of His Grace in our lives. Not the type of Grace I was looking for, either. His Grace is abundantly different and better than what I ever wanted, or thought I needed. I wanted "perfect" kids who would grow up and serve Him in the prescribed ways of service...pastors, teachers, missionaries, etc... Now, He may have some of those plans for our little ones, or He may not. ...And frankly, I have to pray each day to trust Him enough to let it be.
This is just a glimpse into my heart...unfortunately there are several more I could add. Honestly, though, I would never in all of eternity, change my life for what I thought I wanted. Sure, you can go to the fundraisers, or a special banquet, and being the mom of a special needs kiddo can seem almost romantic. It is not. For sure. But, as far as I still have to go, I would never be the woman/mom/wife I am today without the Lord's special design for our family. As much as I would wish my guys to wake up one morning with a full vocabulary and understanding of life (ESPECIALLY POTTY TRAINING!!!), that is NOT God's design for us. He has loved me and our family enough to not let it be what I wanted, but what He does. Not awesome, but blessed.
1. Walking behind another mom picking up her four-year-old, I get a little nostalgic...and a little sad. Your gabby little one is telling you all about her day. The friends, the blocks, the special parts of her morning, all in a whirlwind of quick speech and bouncing all over the sidewalk while gripping your hand. My sweet guy runs out of the school, grabs a hold of me, smiles, and hangs on tight. He is too tired to walk, so I get to carry him (perhaps I will eventually have arms like Hulk...my kids aren't so little!). He holds on tight, and I relish the few moments of walking to the Truck, slower than normal, because you and your little one are engaged in conversation.
2. I love Church. A lot. It is the highlight of my week, and more anticipated than I can explain. It also carries some nerves. I don't know if he'll go in. I don't know if he will run, scream, or start thrashing, even though just a few moments ago he was just fine. We have a routine, but sometimes even the schedule of routine isn't enough. We know his teacher's love him, serve him, and want him to join in...it isn't them. It's just Sunday morning, and he is tired from his week, and that is that.
3. I love being outside. Shocking to some, I'm sure, but I love running. I used to take the kids on a walk everyday...sometimes more than one/day, just to be outside or go to the parks that are close. I honestly cannot remember the last time I walked with them. We can't anymore. He runs away, and has no fear of anything. That car that refuses to follow the speed limit threatens my guys' life. He will never be able to stop in time when my guy runs into the street. So we don't go. Controlled park times-we drive, and it is fenced, and I am vigilant at all times are our game, now. I can guarantee I am never the mom too busy on her phone... I am a mom who looks like she is watching an intense game of ping pong, constantly looking for the happy little heads bouncing around the playground, making sure a whim hasn't pulled him away.
4. I used to constantly be on-the-go. Going here and there, going everywhere. (Sorry, my daughter is deeply into Dr. Seuss right now!) No more. I just finally came to the conclusion that I cannot even go to the store with my guy. He just cannot handle it after school. He is too tired, too frayed, and at the first opportunity, he will become the screaming, flailing, Hulk that lives close to the surface, that this momma can barely keep safe. Break. My. Heart.
5. I have hopes and dreams. And those hopes and dreams have had to be turned over to the Lord and offered as a sacrifice. Because they are not His plans. Not for my life, not for my guys' lives, not as a punishment, but as a testimony of His Grace in our lives. Not the type of Grace I was looking for, either. His Grace is abundantly different and better than what I ever wanted, or thought I needed. I wanted "perfect" kids who would grow up and serve Him in the prescribed ways of service...pastors, teachers, missionaries, etc... Now, He may have some of those plans for our little ones, or He may not. ...And frankly, I have to pray each day to trust Him enough to let it be.
This is just a glimpse into my heart...unfortunately there are several more I could add. Honestly, though, I would never in all of eternity, change my life for what I thought I wanted. Sure, you can go to the fundraisers, or a special banquet, and being the mom of a special needs kiddo can seem almost romantic. It is not. For sure. But, as far as I still have to go, I would never be the woman/mom/wife I am today without the Lord's special design for our family. As much as I would wish my guys to wake up one morning with a full vocabulary and understanding of life (ESPECIALLY POTTY TRAINING!!!), that is NOT God's design for us. He has loved me and our family enough to not let it be what I wanted, but what He does. Not awesome, but blessed.
Tuesday, September 10, 2013
A Year of Grace
Last night my husband told me today is his dad's birthday. I looked at the date, looked at him, and said, "Yes. Yes it is. Do you remember what we were doing one year ago?" He stared at me, and asked several crazy questions. One year ago his dad was watching three of our kids (on his birthday, Lord bless him!) so we could take Titus in for his three hour diagnostic appointment. "That was ONLY a YEAR ago?!?" was his reply. Yes, one year. One crazy, overwhelming, growing-curve, scary, blessed year ago. In the last year, we've found clothes he will wear, gotten through the tedious paperwork for medicaid and waiver's, started school, gotten through a summer, and found some food he will actually eat. We also pack a wagon in the truck now, because his legs are too weak to walk far. My guy is the one on the ground at school, because the line is too much for him. My guy is the big four-year-old in diapers, because the concept of going to the bathroom is too much for him. My guy yells, screams, and grunts to help his body work properly. And those are just the tip of the iceberg. But, my guy is loved, cherished, and has no idea what the Lord has done in my life because of him.
You see, this year the Lord brought me to my knees in a new and very unexpected way. Not more than a year ago, I was strong. I could handle everything. It might be a little bit tough sometimes, but I "had" it. I never asked for help. I never let my emotions get the better of me. Ever. In college, I started building a wall around my emotions to protect myself from being vulnerable. I was not going to be hurt for crying or being imperfect (Hah! What a joke! I was hurt all the time!). The Lord revealed that my unwillingness to be vulnerable was ugly pride, and this pride was destroying my relationships, our kids, and our marriage. I kept people at arms length, took every sin my kids did as a personal affront, and refused to trust my ever faithful, dedicated and loving husband. All of a sudden, I realized my desperation. I needed help, I needed others, and I was finally willing to ask. I knew I was alienating my older two, and I asked for help. The Lord graciously provided a few ladies to confront my sin, offer solid parenting books to read, and to be Titus 2 women in my life. The Lord did similar, amazing, and miraculous work in our marriage, as He humbled us and gracefully worked in our lives.
The grace in all of this began with Titus. When you are a parent of a special needs child, your pride goes out the window, as they throw it out for you. As they are yelling and screaming in a store because their body has been overwhelmed by stimuli, there are three ways to react. 1. RUN!!!!
2. Look that uninformed, holier-than-thou commenting woman RIGHT in the eye and let her know how you feel, how hard this life is, and how you just need to buy stinking milk..and she SURE didn't ask if she could help! -or- 3. Let the Lord be your vindicator, your helper, your peace. I cannot tell you how many times I've cried to the Lord or Richard and asked why no one ever offers to help. Why do people just stare at me or scold the kids? Why hasn't anyone, ever, just asked if there was a way they could do something...anything? Even if they can DO nothing, would it hurt to ask?? And then came MY test. I watched someone very close to me this past weekend. Her child was a mess. Screaming, yelling, hitting, and being an all-out sinner. Several around her were "encouraging" her child to behave. Then, I looked at her, and I saw ME. She was tired. She had tried all she knew, and had obviously failed. It took me several tries to get her attention (by this point she was desperately trying to block out the voices), and asked if I could help. What can I do? I think she just about cried in relief, instead of frustration...and then she took my offer. The Lord did something amazing in my heart during those moments. He gave me a glimpse at the heart of my friend, and let me see her hurt. Frankly, it was shocking and painful. My friend, with one child, felt the same hurt I feel, and no one had helped her either. How many times have I been the one to "help" scold the child? How many times have I looked past the "least of these" thinking a few words could solve the problem? How prideful am I? Where is my willingness to offer the grace I have so pleaded for? Perhaps I will be a little more aware now.
Being a parent of special needs children is not easy. There is heartache like I could never have imagined. There are fears about some of the smallest things. Walking out the door is literally taking his life in my hands. (We have a walkway and then a parking lot for 40 cars...most of whom think we live at Indy...and he runs the second the door is opened if I don't hold him.) There are also finite views of God's love and grace I could never have seen without him. My love for Titus is fierce and unconditional. There is nothing he can do to make me love him less or love him more. Whether he is kicking and screaming or hugging me so tight I can let go and he doesn't move, I love him. How much greater, deeper, wider, and purer is God's love for us! There are joys over the simplest victory-hearing "yes" instead of "NO!" is a big little from recently. God does delight in each victory we have, and gives aide to obtain the victory! (How cool is that?!?) There is nothing "romantic" about my life. Hopefully, though, His grace is evident through us, in me, and during each moment (especially the ugly).
You see, this year the Lord brought me to my knees in a new and very unexpected way. Not more than a year ago, I was strong. I could handle everything. It might be a little bit tough sometimes, but I "had" it. I never asked for help. I never let my emotions get the better of me. Ever. In college, I started building a wall around my emotions to protect myself from being vulnerable. I was not going to be hurt for crying or being imperfect (Hah! What a joke! I was hurt all the time!). The Lord revealed that my unwillingness to be vulnerable was ugly pride, and this pride was destroying my relationships, our kids, and our marriage. I kept people at arms length, took every sin my kids did as a personal affront, and refused to trust my ever faithful, dedicated and loving husband. All of a sudden, I realized my desperation. I needed help, I needed others, and I was finally willing to ask. I knew I was alienating my older two, and I asked for help. The Lord graciously provided a few ladies to confront my sin, offer solid parenting books to read, and to be Titus 2 women in my life. The Lord did similar, amazing, and miraculous work in our marriage, as He humbled us and gracefully worked in our lives.
The grace in all of this began with Titus. When you are a parent of a special needs child, your pride goes out the window, as they throw it out for you. As they are yelling and screaming in a store because their body has been overwhelmed by stimuli, there are three ways to react. 1. RUN!!!!
2. Look that uninformed, holier-than-thou commenting woman RIGHT in the eye and let her know how you feel, how hard this life is, and how you just need to buy stinking milk..and she SURE didn't ask if she could help! -or- 3. Let the Lord be your vindicator, your helper, your peace. I cannot tell you how many times I've cried to the Lord or Richard and asked why no one ever offers to help. Why do people just stare at me or scold the kids? Why hasn't anyone, ever, just asked if there was a way they could do something...anything? Even if they can DO nothing, would it hurt to ask?? And then came MY test. I watched someone very close to me this past weekend. Her child was a mess. Screaming, yelling, hitting, and being an all-out sinner. Several around her were "encouraging" her child to behave. Then, I looked at her, and I saw ME. She was tired. She had tried all she knew, and had obviously failed. It took me several tries to get her attention (by this point she was desperately trying to block out the voices), and asked if I could help. What can I do? I think she just about cried in relief, instead of frustration...and then she took my offer. The Lord did something amazing in my heart during those moments. He gave me a glimpse at the heart of my friend, and let me see her hurt. Frankly, it was shocking and painful. My friend, with one child, felt the same hurt I feel, and no one had helped her either. How many times have I been the one to "help" scold the child? How many times have I looked past the "least of these" thinking a few words could solve the problem? How prideful am I? Where is my willingness to offer the grace I have so pleaded for? Perhaps I will be a little more aware now.
Being a parent of special needs children is not easy. There is heartache like I could never have imagined. There are fears about some of the smallest things. Walking out the door is literally taking his life in my hands. (We have a walkway and then a parking lot for 40 cars...most of whom think we live at Indy...and he runs the second the door is opened if I don't hold him.) There are also finite views of God's love and grace I could never have seen without him. My love for Titus is fierce and unconditional. There is nothing he can do to make me love him less or love him more. Whether he is kicking and screaming or hugging me so tight I can let go and he doesn't move, I love him. How much greater, deeper, wider, and purer is God's love for us! There are joys over the simplest victory-hearing "yes" instead of "NO!" is a big little from recently. God does delight in each victory we have, and gives aide to obtain the victory! (How cool is that?!?) There is nothing "romantic" about my life. Hopefully, though, His grace is evident through us, in me, and during each moment (especially the ugly).
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)