Category: Brokenness

All I Need to Know

He threw the glass across the kitchen this morning.  At least it was a plastic glass……and at least it was empty.  So began our morning.  Aaron got up just in time to go out to Gary’s truck in the driveway and hug him goodbye.  He was happy and I was hopeful.  Yesterday was up and down with Aaron.  He didn’t like me for awhile but then settled down and we had a nice evening.  We watched Wheel of Fortune, and played Skip-Bo later while eating strawberries.

Simple pleasures, but not always such a simple life with Aaron. 

This morning as we walked back into the house after his goodbye hug for dad, he decided that Mom was the bad guy again.  He told me he wasn’t going to go to Paradigm today, and on and on. 

Oh, the complexities of his mind!  The challenges of autism!  Physical issues I can handle so much easier because the flesh and blood of those special needs is right there to see and somehow grasp.  But the workings of the autistic mind are sometimes anyone’s guess, and this morning I was in no guessing mood.

So I launched back after his verbal barrage got to a certain point.  I pointed my finger at Aaron and I very firmly put him in his place.  But Aaron rarely stays in the place I put him.  I may feel better for a few seconds, but then he opens his mouth and his resolve is more set than ever……his resolve to win the war, even if he loses a few battles in the process.  I know this about Aaron, but I sometimes act despite what I know.  I act on my feelings, and I often regret it. 

The rest of the morning was filled with Aaron telling me he wasn’t going to talk to me anymore, all the while talking to me to tell me that he wasn’t going to talk to me.  Over and over and over.  He also didn’t want me to talk, so I mostly remained silent, which actually drives him crazy.  There was no winning for either of us at that point.

Aaron went to Paradigm, wanting me to come in with him so I could tell Barb to be sure he was nice……and Barb told him the same thing I had said earlier, that he was the only one who could be sure he was nice.  I don’t know for sure how his day has been.  I don’t know for sure that I want to know.

We’ve had lots of storms in Kansas lately.  On our way back from Topeka recently, Gary and I drove through the beautiful Flint Hills.  There on the horizon were storm clouds, and we were headed straight into them.  There was no avoiding the storm.  No matter what road we took, the drive home led into the storm. 

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And again yesterday, driving Aaron to his day group, we were facing storm clouds.  There they were, dark and threatening. 

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Driving into a storm reminds me of living with Aaron.  It also reminds me of Moses.  I’m reading the book of Exodus, and in chapter 3 God spoke to Moses in the burning bush.  He told Moses of the job He wanted him to do…..to lead the children of Israel out of Egypt.  And Moses said, “Who am I, that I should go to Pharaoh and bring the children of Israel out of Egypt?” 

The first part of God’s answer was simply this: “But I will be with you…..”

God didn’t say, “Oh come on Moses, you’re the man!  You’re so great!  I know you can do it!”

Moses’ sufficiency rested only in those six words that God first spoke: “But I will be with you…..”

Moses’ sufficiency rested only in God.  Not in himself…..not in his family…..not in his royal connections from years past.  No.  The strength and wisdom and courage that Moses needed rested only in God.

I’m not proud of the times I blow it with Aaron.  I’m not proud of Aaron’s behaviors on the bad days.  I often feel like Moses.

“Who am I, that I can parent Aaron?  Who am I, that I can have patience enough on the bad days to tolerate the behaviors?”

And God’s answer for me is just the answer He gave to Moses: “But I will be with you…..”

It’s no mistake that I am Aaron’s mother.  God put me on this road because of His sovereign plan for me and also for Aaron.  I may feel on some days that I can’t do this correctly, or do it at all, but this is where God has put me.  God doesn’t make mistakes.

So here I am, driving on this life road and headed into yet another storm.  I know I’m not alone in this.  I know of others who are feeling the pressure of the dark clouds on their horizons, and are soon overcome with rain and lightning and thunder.  But if you’re God’s child, He is with you.  He promises you strength, wisdom for the asking, peace in your inner being, and joy deep down.  Whatever your situation…..your worry……your pain…..your secret turmoil……your fear…..your failures, God’s word to Moses is God’s word for you…..for me…. “But I will be with you….”

I don’t always feel this fact.  But I know this fact to be true, this fact of God being with me, and so I can rest in that knowledge even when I don’t feel it.

After I dropped Aaron off and drove home yesterday, this was my view.  All the time I was driving into the storm, just behind me was the lifting of the clouds. 

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It’s true of my life, too.  God will relieve the burden, even if the situation remains.  He relieves my burden by reminding me of Who He is, like He did to Moses.  And reminding me that He is with me, always. 

Even when I say, “Are you sure, God?  Did I take a wrong turn somewhere?  And look how I’ve messed up!!”  And He answers once again, “But I will be with you…..”

Dark clouds, or bright sky.  Angry Aaron, or happy Aaron.  God is with me.

On some days, that’s all I know.  But on every day, that’s all I need to know. 

 

Fixing My Broken

 

I sit here at the kitchen table, one ear on the washing machine and the other on the baby monitor. Our washing machine was having some trouble two nights ago, so yesterday when Gary got home from work he opened up the back and got it all fixed. At least we hope it’s all fixed. That’s why I’m listening as it washes a second load this morning, wanting to be sure it’s working as it should.   A broken washing machine is no fun!

And my other ear is on the baby monitor because Aaron had two hard seizures last night. He’s been out of bed this morning, drinking his requisite three cups of coffee and then back to bed. He will sleep off and on today as he recovers. I’ll continue to listen for further seizures, which he often has during the day following his night episodes. Poor Aaron. He and I are still hoping to take supper over to Shawna and Aaron’s other friends at the house in which they live. He keeps asking if we can still go and I keep hoping that we can. Why do seizures have to so often mess up his fun times? It makes me sad for him. So in a sense a broken Aaron is no fun, either…..for him, certainly.

I don’t look at Aaron as broken, but I look at his seizures that way. They interrupt his life so often and so it breaks my heart for him. They break into his routine and into his plans, mess up his sleep and his following day, make his bitten tongue so sore, his head hurt, and all the rest that goes along with these awful things.

It makes me think about how we live among so much brokenness. There are so many broken issues and broken people all around us. Just this week I visited my dear friend, Atha, who is still struggling as she recovers from a stroke. Our friends in Texas, Steve and Dona, are working hard on his stroke recovery. Another friend’s son died from cancer early this morning. A friend is undergoing heart tests this morning. Our own daughter will soon have more medical tests run as her body continues to show a problem as yet unfound. Scrolling through Facebook…..looking at my prayer list……visiting with others on the phone or at lunch only confirms the deep hurts and problems that many are facing.

Our broken world is marred by sin, fractured back in the garden as Adam and Eve willfully disobeyed God. We and our world continue to bear the consequences of that sin in a universe imperfect now, not as God planned. But it’s not hopeless. Not at all. God made a way for each of us to come back to Him through His own Son. Jesus paid the price of sin, and for all who are called and respond to God through Jesus, there is life and hope.

God fixes our broken.

But we still have this life here, lived in broken bodies and in a broken world.

I watched Aaron on Sunday morning as he cut the Sunday coupons for me. This is his Sunday routine, performed faithfully for me as only Aaron does. In fact, he won’t let me come near the coupons with a pair of scissors because I don’t cut them correctly. Aaron cuts on the dotted line as best he can. Not near it. Not beside it. Not close to it. He cuts ON the dotted line.

Then he takes the little strips of paper that he has cut off and he meticulously snips them into tiny pieces as he holds the strip over his special trash can that’s just for that purpose and no other. It takes lots more time than necessary, but he doesn’t care about that. He has always, and will always, clip coupons and paper strips in this fashion. It’s very fascinating to watch.

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After the coupon is cut, he slowly and methodically places it into the coupon box. He doesn’t just toss it in. He slowly and carefully puts each coupon in its position, all neat and orderly. Look at the coupon box from this past week.

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As I think of the brokenness of life and of our world this morning, I’m reminded that for believers God is much like Aaron as he clips my coupons. God is full of purpose and planning for my life. He carefully cuts, always ON the dotted line, and He puts events and people and order into my life in the exact way that He knows is best. He is structured and precise as He takes each individual element of my life and places it exactly where it needs to be. His timing is perfect. His placement is always on spot. I may not understand it all. I may not like it all. But I know the One Who is doing the clipping and the snipping and the placement of each single area of my life, and of those I love.

And I know that I can fully trust Him to do it right. It’s called sovereignty.

“The Lord will accomplish what concerns me; Your lovingkindness , O Lord, is everlasting. Do not forsake the works of Your hands.” Psalm 138:8

Someday, maybe not until heaven, I’ll be able to open that box that holds my life events. I’ll see it all together, clearly, and I know that I’ll see order. I’ll see the plan of God. I’ll see each piece of my life put down just where and how God wanted it, always for my good and for His praise.

Even when I mess it up, God brings order back into it as I allow Him to do that. He loves me that much, like the verse above says.

So I’ll let God do the clipping, even when I don’t understand it or even agree with all of it. Because I know I can depend on Him to do it right, every single part and piece.

He keeps His ear on us, and He fixes our broken. He’s the only One Who can.

It’s My Choice

“I am NOT going to Paradigm today!!” Aaron yelled at me. 

Here we go, I thought.  This will be one of those mornings.  And it was.  It all happened last Friday.  I’m not even sure what set Aaron on that anger path, but he was on it for sure with no apparent sign that he would exit anytime soon. 

“Go away from me!” he loudly said. 

Yet he kept coming into my room while I got ready, standing there telling me angrily that he wasn’t going to his day group.  But he knew the consequences of that decision without me uttering a word.  No Friday pizza.  He was in quite the dilemma as he stood there asserting himself, knowing that the further he dug his own hole, the further away he would be from his pizza supper.  Plus I wasn’t responding back to him the way he wanted.  He wanted anger from me, which would only feed his anger.  Aaron was ready for a verbal fight, and Mom wasn’t cooperating.  I stayed as calm as possible while still being firm, even though I wanted to yell every bit as loud as he was. 

Finally Aaron stomped away, walking up the hall to his room.  And then I heard it.  Aaron threw something up the hall, where it landed on the floor outside of my bedroom.  I knew what it was without looking.  It was his watch…..his broken wrist watch.  He had broken it at Paradigm almost two weeks earlier, although the details are still unclear. Nevertheless, it was broken and I didn’t replace it immediately.  So on this anger morning, Aaron decided to focus his anger on his broken watch….demanding a new one once again and complaining about how much he needed his watch. 

Aaron could tell that I was getting ready to leave the house, with or without him.  “OK!!  I’ll go, if you’re going to MAKE me!!” he said, dripping with frustration.  I silently went to the van, where he followed me and then stopped.

“Wait!” he said.  “I have to get my watch.”

He went back into the house and retrieved his broken watch, stuffing it in his pocket.  He couldn’t wear it on his arm, but every day he had put it in his pocket and taken it with him anyway.  Today was no different.  We were mostly silent on the way to Paradigm.  It was later than usual.  Aaron was sullen and still steaming.  I was deflated and tired. 

Earlier, as my friend Atha and I texted, I had said to her, “There are times I truly wish for a normal life.”  I always feel guilty after expressing myself that way, for I know that this life is what God has somehow allowed me to have.  I want to be like Esther, who came to realize that God in His sovereignty had put her in the place she was for that particular time.  Yet sometimes the place of us special needs moms seems to just be a place of frustration and dreary sameness.  We do get tired, especially on the angry days such as I was having with Aaron.

He got out of the van, still irate but somewhat calmer.  I just drove away, weary.  But I thought about Aaron with his broken watch in his pocket, carrying it with him all that day.  He also carries something else with him, something that often feels broken.  My heart and spirit.  A mother is a mother, forever changed by the children that carry part of her with them for the rest of their lives.  Aaron isn’t the broken one, but I often am.  I need God’s grace and strength so many times on this road, and He never fails me.  But I still feel the pain in my heart, my heart that Aaron unknowingly carries with him…..tucked away, just like his broken watch.

 
Later, I walked in the house and my eyes were drawn to a very little porcelain figure perched on top of our DVD player.  Aaron and I had set it there a couple weeks earlier.  I thought of the story told by that little figure, the love it represents.

Aaron had been to the zoo on Friday of that week.  He came home, excited to tell me about his favorite animals that he saw.  When I asked him if he had bought anything to eat, he told me that he had not bought any food but had instead bought something for me.  But with regret he told me that he had left it at Paradigm. 

“I can’t tell you what it is, Mom!” he exclaimed.  “It’s a surprise!!”

So when I took him to Paradigm after the weekend, on Monday, he was very excited for me to come inside with him so that he could hopefully locate his surprise for me.  He barreled into Barb’s office with me in tow, and Barb immediately pulled out of her desk a small brown bag from the zoo.  Aaron couldn’t wait for me to open it as he handed it to me.  And there inside the bag, wrapped in bubble wrap, was….well, what was it?  It was so tiny that I couldn’t exactly tell.  Aaron was rubbing his hands together as I gingerly pulled out a little porcelain zebra.  Why a zebra?  I have no idea.  But I loved it.  I loved the fact that Aaron had spent all of his money on Mom…..even though I worried that he went hungry.  What a special, loving gift from my son!

Now it sits on top of our DVD player, where it’s mostly safe from being broken.  You can hardly see it from across the room, it’s so little.  But the joy on Aaron’s face when I opened it was huge, and so was the joy in my heart. 

My heart, like all mom’s, holds at times great joy and then at times great hurt.  As with every situation in my life, then, I have a choice to make.  I can’t ignore the hurt forever and I can’t capture the joy forever.  We all experience both.  But I can choose which to dwell on the most. 

I can linger on the brokenness and carry it with me, like the watch in Aaron’s pocket as he carried it there day after day.  Or I can choose to see the beauty, hard as it may be, that does often surround me in my life with Aaron.  Brokenness or beauty…..it’s my choice.  In every area of life, that choice is mine to consciously make.  As I deal with Aaron, it’s also a decision I must choose. 

Will I see Aaron as a blessing?  Or will I see Aaron as a burden?  Will I allow my grumbles and sighing and my desire sometimes for a “normal” life rule my thoughts?  Or will I pull back, take a breath and pray to my heavenly Father, and then choose to see the blessings?  Even at the end of the day, if all I can say is, “Well, at least Aaron and I are both still alive.”  Hey, I’ll take it!  It’s a blessing!!

On that angry Friday, that tiny zebra reminded me that I do have many blessings and joys in this life with Aaron.  Sometimes they’re harder to see than at other times.  Sometimes my spirit is very frustrated and tired…..but so is everyone.  Really, we all experience plenty of both in our lives. 
 

What will it be? 

Brokenness…..or beauty?

Burden……or blessing?

A text from Atha this morning was perfect:  “Enter His gates with thanksgiving and His courts with praise; give thanks to Him and praise His name.  For the Lord is good and His love endures forever; His faithfulness continues through all generations.”

 

 

Lessons From the Toad

I saw him out of the corner of my eye as I watered one of our back flower beds on a very hot afternoon. I wasn’t sure what it was that had drawn my attention and so I leaned down slightly to see what had created the slight movement that I had seen. And there he was, with his head and half of his body sticking out of his little underground home. A small toad! So now I knew what had been living in that mysterious hole that had been dug in the mulch among the pink Coneflowers. I was very relieved that it wasn’t a huge spider, for one thing, and I also thought that this wee fellow was pretty cute.

 As I gently sprayed the flowers in the summer heat, my small toad neighbor just stayed where he was. And as he sat there with a little mound of fresh dirt on his head, I observed some toad behavior that I had never seen before. He lifted his head slightly as the water softly fell on him and then shook his head a bit. He blinked his eyes but didn’t seem bothered by the water that fell over his face. In fact, I thought that he was enjoying the cool shower that was cascading over his hot, bumpy body. It certainly was a very stifling day and I could imagine that he was pleasantly relieved at this unexpected relief from the dryness and the heat.

 

 

As I watched my toad’s reaction to the cool water, I thought of the times in my life that I have felt completely worn out and depleted from the heat of life’s unrelenting ups and downs. At times I have felt dried up and burnt from the stresses that this life can bring. It seems that there is no relief as day after day of disappointments or worries beat down upon my unprotected head. Yet in my heart I know where relief can be found. I can say with David in Psalm 63:1 – “O God, You are my God; I shall seek You earnestly; My soul thirsts for You, My flesh yearns for You, in a dry and weary land where there is no water.”

Meeting God in His Word and in prayer is where my cool, refreshing relief is to be found. He is there to quench my thirst and His Word is there to revive my dry, parched soul. Then I can say along with the Psalmist, “This is my comfort in my affliction, that Your Word has revived me.” (Psalm 119:50) I want to let the refreshment that God offers me wash over my spirit. I want to lift my head, blink my eyes in wonder and praise, and let His Word revive me so that when the heat is on, my soul is calm and my spirit is renewed. Thank you, dear Lord, for the little bumpy toad You sent my way!

Everybody Breaks Things

Have I told you that Aaron doesn’t like for his world to be upset?  Yeah, I knew I had.  And I’ve also told you that when Aaron’s world is upset, Gary and I usually end up in the turmoil as well.  We were reminded of that fact last night, once again.

Yesterday was a fun day for Aaron.  He and I went to see Night at the Museum while Gary took care of some work around the house.  Aaron and I shared popcorn, which of course we couldn’t start eating until the movie had actually started. 

“Now, Aaron?” I asked as we sat down.

“No,” he answered.

“Now?” I asked again as the screen was showing all sorts of things to keep us entertained before the movie started.

“No,” he patiently repeated.

“Now?” I asked when the trailers began.

“No,” he said once more.  “Not until the movie STARTS!”

So when the movie started, he said, “Now!”  And I reached down for our bucket of popcorn, feeling like I was beginning a race.  Which it kind of was as Aaron ate fast and furiously, determined not to let me cheat him out of his fair share of popcorn with extra butter.  I had already confiscated most of his HUGE stash of napkins he managed to grab while I wasn’t looking, but he was NOT going to let me do the same with his popcorn!

After the movie, we ate a very unhealthy supper at Burger King…..but Aaron loved every bite, and I tried to eat mine without too much guilt.  We came home and watched Wheel of Fortune.  It was a nice day, full of Aaron’s favorites.  He went to bed happy, and ready to read a little in his Handy Answer Gardening Book.  He could care less about gardening and plants but it’s the next book in his order of books and so he MUST read it…..and he is…..Every. Single. Word.

We said our goodnights and Aaron finally settled in to read, after following me a couple times to my room.  Finally I was alone and able to start my bedtime routine.  Gary was still downstairs.  After some time, my door burst open and in stormed Aaron.  I was beginning my routine lecture about knocking before he enters when I looked up and saw his face.

His face looked flushed, and his eyes were wild.  He was breathless as he said, “Mom!  You have to come here!  I need you to see something!!”

I could tell that whatever the something was, I had better go see it now.  It didn’t matter about being tired and wanting to go to bed.  Aaron was desperate, and I could not imagine what was wrong.

He hurried up the hall to his room, with me following….full of dread.  We walked in his room and there it was.  Aaron had done something to his desk drawer.  His explanation wasn’t quite clear, but whatever he had done, the large center drawer to his new desk had broken.  All the items that were in the drawer were on the floor, as well as the drawer bottom and the front of the drawer with the handle. 

He was very, very upset…..a combination of wondering if he was in trouble to just being sick that his new desk was now broken.  He kept saying he was sorry, and saying he was scared, and trying to decide what to do, and if the desk could be fixed….and I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.  I felt very sorry for HIM, after the shock of what had happened quickly passed.  Gary came upstairs then, and we both assured Aaron that it was fine and that we would look at it tomorrow. 

Finally we were all in bed.  We hoped that Aaron would sleep.  He was so upset and agitated by what had happened.  Gary and I lay there, trying to go to sleep, when through the baby monitor we heard Aaron softly say, “I’m scared.”  I wanted to run in his room and assure him that it was OK, but I knew I needed to stay put and try to let him calm down.

After a few minutes, he spoke softly again.  “I should listen,” he said.  Oh dear!  I felt so bad.  How many times have I told him that he should listen when we tell him something?  Now he was saying those words as he lay there all alone, his mangled desk drawer a reminder of how he doesn’t listen.  Gary could read me even in the dark.  He told me that Aaron was all right.  I wanted to believe that.

Later, before Aaron went to sleep, he said something about a nightmare.  And I just prayed that Aaron would soon go to sleep, which he did, and finally Gary and I did, too. 

I heard Aaron stirring early this morning.  Once again, he spoke, saying something again about a nightmare.  When I got up soon after, I saw Aaron’s light on and so I went in his room.  He was sitting there at his computer, headphones on, with his feet trying to rest on the floor without touching any of the mess that was there from the broken drawer.  I patted his shoulder, and smiled at him as he looked at me.

He and I then picked up the items on the floor and put them in a plastic crate that was in his closet.  I placed the crate on his bed, and went on downstairs.  Soon Aaron followed, and in his arms he had the crate full of his stuff.  He set it on the kitchen table.  And I noticed how awful he looked.  His eyes were so tired.  He looked as if he had hardly slept.  All of this stress over a broken desk drawer!
 

As the morning wore on, he seemed a little better.  He clipped the few coupons that were in the paper, drank his coffee, and showered.  I carried his box of desk items back up to his room.  After his shower, he came back downstairs.  In his arms was the crate full of his desk stuff again, which he put back on the kitchen table. 

 
“You don’t want that in your room, do you?” I asked him.  He solemnly said no, so I left the crate there, knowing it wasn’t worth upsetting him further.  Gary told him that he thought he could fix the desk drawer, and I could see Aaron relax some.  Then I remembered something!

“Aaron, come look at something,” I told him.  He followed me into the guest room, where I showed him something that was laying on the bed.  It was the very nice frame from the beautiful framed piece that Megan, Andrew’s girlfriend, had given us for Christmas.  The frame I had broken one day, by accident…..but broken none the less.  I felt so horrible the day I broke that frame, but now I was almost thankful for it because I could use it to show Aaron that he wasn’t alone in how he felt.  He wasn’t alone in HIS brokenness.  So that’s what I told him.  I told him how I broke the frame and of how awful I felt about it.

“So everybody breaks things,” he quietly stated.

“Yes, we do,” I assured him.  “We all break things.”

And with that, Aaron was ok.  He went back to bed and slept for a couple hours, waking up fresh and happy once again, and with no talk of broken desk drawers or mess on the floor. 

He knows that Dad will try to fix the drawer…..and if anyone can fix the drawer, Dad can! 

And he knows that Mom recently broke something very special, and though Mom felt terrible about it, she was all right…..and he would be all right, too.

But most of all, Aaron knew that he was not alone and that he was forgiven.  And in that companionship and forgiveness, the world was right once more. 

Not just for Aaron, either.  It worked both ways, for Gary and me as well.  We share Aaron’s turmoil, yes, but we share the joy, too. 

Have I told you it works that way?  I’m sure I have. 

 

 

The Darkness

On Thursday evening, Gary and I noticed that Aaron didn’t seem quite like himself.  He became lethargic as the evening wore on, even falling asleep sitting up in his favorite family room chair.  Then he wanted to go to bed early…..and for Aaron to agree to a bedtime before at least 10:00 is very unusual.  It’s like his lunch at 12:00 mindset.  Bedtime should not occur before 10:00 in Aaron’s world, so his desire to head on up to bed at 9:30 combined with his tiredness made Gary and I wonder what was going on with him.  

Therefore, we weren’t too surprised to hear him having a seizure a couple hours later.  It was a very hard seizure, lasting about four minutes.  Three other long, hard seizures followed that one during the night.  He wet the bed after the second one, bit his tongue during the third one, and I walked in his room at his fourth seizure to find him on the floor.  We have no idea how that happened, because he was in a sitting position with his back against his night stand.  Blood was coming from his mouth as he bit his tongue again.  Gary and I eventually got him back in bed, and then later before Gary went to work he was able to get Aaron a little cleaned up before helping him downstairs to the couch.   

 
Aaron slept all day, with only a few short waking moments when I was able to give him his pills or something to drink.  At 3:30 he woke up and told me that he didn’t feel like going to Paradigm.  He was so shocked when I told him that it was 3:30 in the afternoon……that he had totally missed Paradigm that day and didn’t have to worry about it.  He had no memory and no idea of what had happened. 

I don’t tell all this to garner sympathy or to any way embarrass Aaron.  I tell these things in an effort to share with others the faithfulness of God in the midst of pain…..the pain of a mother for her son, in our case……the shared pain of parents bearing this burden together………and the pain of fear that often tries to settle its icy grip in our hearts.

This seizure episode for Aaron has been a bad one.  In fact, he had another small seizure early this morning.  He got up later but wanted to go right back to bed.  His tongue is extremely sore and damaged, and he also has a sore throat now.  Worry and sadness could easily be my companion this morning.

Sadness was definitely near me yesterday morning as I sat at the kitchen table while Aaron slept nearby.  At times like this, I desire to hear from God.  I know that the comfort He gives is like no other.  I don’t doubt Him.  I don’t question why he allows this to happen.  I’ve gotten to know Him over the years and I know that He is always loving, and good, and that His sovereignty is beyond my understanding.  I trust Him.  What I desire is His comfort during the moments when my heart is a little fractured, and my emotions are raw.

I would like to remain free of emotion when it comes to Aaron and his special needs.  Emotion hurts.  Emotion means that I’m thinking of Aaron and what he is enduring…..and what he’s missing in life……and what the future might hold.  But how can a mother keep her son at arm’s length and not at times deeply hurt over his pain?

Such was my morning yesterday.  I was hit with the reality of Aaron’s suffering.  I cried.  I just let myself feel the pain for a few moments and I cried in my hands.  And God saw His daughter crying and He comforted me.  I love, love, love how He speaks to me through His Word when I need it the most.  I’ve started reading Daniel, and there it was.  My eyes fell on Daniel 2:22:  “…..He knows what is in the darkness, and the light dwells with Him.”

Most of Aaron’s seizures are during the night as he sleeps.  I detest that sound coming out of the baby monitor on my nightstand…..the sound of Aaron’s seizure beginning.  It jolts me out of sleep and it always fills me with dread.  I never get used to that awful sound.  And the darkness.  Our room is dark, the hall is dimly lit, and Aaron’s room is very dark.  I turn on his light, not knowing what I will see, and I stay with him until the seizure is over and I know he is safe.

Then usually I will hear that gasping sound later again coming from the monitor as another seizure begins.  The scene is repeated…..the darkness…..the dread…..the fear.

So this verse from Daniel was very special to me.  Once again, God reached down to me in my particular situation and spoke especially to me as the loving Father that He is.  He knows!  He knows what is in that darkness that I face, whether it’s the physical darkness of nighttime seizures or the darkness that fills my soul with fear for Aaron.

And guess what else?  Listen to Psalm 139:11-12:  “If I say, surely the darkness will overwhelm me and the light around me will be night….even the darkness is not darkness to You, and the night is as bright as the day.  Darkness and light are alike to You.”

Those words are so sweet to me.  I felt overwhelmed yesterday with hurt and fear for Aaron.  It’s a darkness as real as the darkness I face when I am awakened with the sound of his night seizures.  But God is there in the dark.  He’s the light!  There is no darkness to Him.  He knows my dark fears and He knows my pain, yet He was there yesterday to remind me that He is light in my darkness.  He knows what is in my darkness as I hear Aaron seizing, and as my own heart is seized with sadness and with dread.

I can trust Him with my pain, and I can trust Him with my son.  He said that darkness and light are the same with Him…..and that the night is as bright as the day.  His promises and His peace are my light in the darkest dark.

So I took our beautiful bright sunrise this morning as God’s personal gift to me.  I relished it as His reminder that no matter how often I feel that the light around me will be night, God says, “No way!  The light dwells with me….and so do you, little daughter.  Now enjoy My light, even when it seems dark.”

We have a good God.

 

 

 

 

 

My Chains


I had a huge reality check this morning as I read a chapter of the book The Message of Philippians by J.A. Motyer.  The apostle Paul was imprisoned when he wrote the book of Philippians.  He was suffering unjustly and painfully, simply for believing in Jesus and proclaiming the gospel.  He had suffered so much over the years in every area……physically, mentally, spiritually.  So here Paul sat in prison and what does he say?
“…so that it has become known throughout the whole praetorian guard and to all the rest that my imprisonment is for Christ; and most of the brethren have been made confident in the Lord because of my imprisonment, and are much more bold to speak the word of God without fear.”  (Philippians 1:13-14)
Motyer gave the visual then of Paul holding up his chained wrist, but instead of pointing at his chafed wrist he makes us look at what effect those chains are having in his own life and especially on the work of Christ in others.  The guards are hearing the gospel…….others are hearing the gospel……..the brethren are gaining confidence……….believers are becoming bold.  
And I thought about myself, and the puny little trials that I have gone through.  What do I often do when I hold my chained wrist up?  I know me, and I’ll tell you what I find it so easy to say and do.  I point to my bleeding wrist and I talk about my pain.  I wonder about why this or that happened, even when I know God is in charge.  I concentrate on the pain that my chains are inflicting on me.  I focus on the injustice and the ones who are responsible.  In other words, I so often do everything but what God wants me to do.
God wants me to look through the links of that chain into His eyes, and to trust Him totally.  He wants me to see Him instead of the chain.  And more importantly, He wants me to point others to what I see as I look at Him.  I see His love and I trust His character, and He wants me to talk about that instead of pointing to the chains.  
It’s not about me, as much as I want it to be.  It’s not about proclaiming my pain or the wrongs I may have suffered or the hurt I am enduring.  It’s so easy to do that, though…..to focus on me and on the suffering.  There is actually a strange kind of comfort in that attitude, but it’s so wrong.  
Speaking of Paul, Motyer said, “He did not see his suffering as an act of divine forgetfulness (‘Why did God let this happen to me?’), nor as a dismissal from service (‘I was looking forward to years of usefulness, and look at me!’), nor as the work of Satan (‘I am afraid the devil has had his way this time’), but as the place of duty, the setting for service, the task appointed.”
Even when God directly answers prayer I sometimes cringe, pull back in pain, and then act surprised by the route God has chosen for me.  Whatever the issue is in my life, I need to realize that God wants to be honored in it……..not questioned.  It takes time and practice and great trust to accomplish that attitude, which unfortunately sometimes means more time in the trial.  More time with those chains around my wrist.
So I hold up my wrist to others, and what do they see?  They see what I focus on……what I talk about……..what I point toward.  Will I be Paul and magnify Christ with my chains? 
“How that word ‘now’ needs to eat its way into our minds and hearts and wills!  It is now that we must show how great Christ is.  Never again will we have the chance to live for Him through this moment, to please Him in this circumstance, to gladden Him by trusting in this ordeal.”
It’s not easy.  It takes resolve to change my focus.  Every single day, many times a day, I know I must refocus my eyes.  My hurting wrist……the rusty chains…..the ongoing pain.  Whether it’s Aaron issues or hurt from others or sadness from those I love who are suffering or worry about our loved ones………it doesn’t matter.  God is there.  He has a plan and a purpose.  
Now…today…this moment – holding up my hands to God and not even noticing the chains.  That’s my desire. 

The Broken Rose

If I could push re-wind, I would.  It probably wouldn’t change much but at least I’d have another try.  Would I say things differently?  Would I just not say some things at all?  Better yet, could we just wipe yesterday off the calendar?  But if we were able to do that, we’d also pass up some wonderful moments and some good lessons learned. 

Have you ever had those thoughts as a parent, especially?  Or even as a spouse, or family member, or friend?  Yeah, me too.  Especially after yesterday…….but today has been a new day, a better day, for which I’m very thankful.  Who knows about tomorrow?

Gary and I have been so up and down with Aaron lately because Aaron has been so up and down.  He has been too fixated on a computer game that we wish now we had never let him have again.  When Aaron becomes this consumed with something, that something actually controls him.  Not every day is bad, but yesterday was……..

Aaron did go to his group in the morning, but with anger.  We were mostly silent on the way to meet his group, but the way he slammed the van door when he finally got out of our van told me that his day………and Paradigm’s day……..was going to be very interesting.

Aaron’s broken glasses, carried home in an envelope, told the story.  But so also did the big smile on his face when he came to the front door after being dropped off at home at the end of his day.  He rang the bell multiple times as I went to answer the door, which told me that this was Aaron at the door……….and I wondered why he came to the front door instead of barreling in the garage door. 

I opened our front door and there he stood, grinning, with four beautiful yellow roses.  Well, three beautiful roses…….the fourth rose had broken and was hanging limply among the other three.  Aaron didn’t care.  He was very happy to have brought me pretty flowers, which he always wishes he could do.  He looked so much like a little boy standing there with the three pretty roses and the one broken rose. 
 

He barged in the door and handed me the roses.  “Here!” he said as he thrust the roses toward me……..and then shocked me to pieces by giving me an unsolicited hug.  “These are because I’m sorry for today and I love you.”

Just knock me over with a feather, would you?

I could tell that time spent with Barb and Brandy at Paradigm had softened him.  They had taken him out to lunch and helped him work through his emotions and his anger.   Barb made sure Aaron had some flowers to bring to Mom. 

How about me?  I was very touched and very happy, but also very realistic.  I wish I wasn’t.  But as soon as Aaron started talking about the game again, I could feel my heart growing cold.  I was tired…….skeptical………not feeling the love at that point.

My lecture didn’t help matters at all.  Aaron and I both ended up with heated words……some even hurtful.  Did I say that I’m tired?  Not an excuse, but a reality as we deal with ongoing Aaron issues.  I just felt like part of my heart had shut down.  Feeling like, OK…….whatever…….I’m done.

Aaron knew this and he was very upset.  I think he was scared of several things……scared of mom being cold……….scared of mom not loving him…….scared of losing his game forever.  And I felt like losing the game was all that mattered to Aaron, yet I couldn’t deny the fear and the anger on his face as we ate supper and he lashed out verbally at me to Gary. 

Thank the Lord for Gary’s calmness and wisdom as he stood strong to be the buffer between Aaron and me.  Finally, Aaron made two things very clear.  First, he wanted me to keep the flowers and put them in a vase, which I did.

Second, he gave me the ultimate insult.  “Mom, you can just watch Wheel of Fortune BY YOURSELF!!!!”   He paused for effect.

“I’m going to watch it in my room BY MYSELF!!!!” he said as he stomped away.

My cold heart stayed cold.  I told him that this was fine.  But his tears told me that he was sad and hurting, and before long I found that my heart was hurting as well.  Still tired……but now sad like Aaron. 

I told Gary that maybe Aaron would calm down if I took him for a milkshake from Sonic.  So Gary went to Aaron’s room to deliver this message.  We knew it would be sweeter coming from Dad’s mouth at this moment rather than from Mom’s. 

I heard Aaron give an enthusiastic yes, and soon he was thumping down the stairs……….in his pajamas and tennis shoes, which made me smile…..for a change.  He sat on the couch with me and was fine, as I held my breath to see how long it would last.

I also held my tongue, which is sometimes hard for me.  I knew that no more lectures were needed right now.  What was needed was a milkshake.  But before the Sonic trip, we sat there together and watched Wheel of Fortune.  Neither of us had to watch it BY OURSELVES!!!  Hallelujah, we got to watch Wheel of Fortune TOGETHER!!!

Aaron was happy and I was happy.  Aaron even got Tater Tots with his milkshake, just for good measure.  I sat there as we watched NCIS, and I glanced over at Aaron seriously eating that favorite milkshake.  Something in my heart felt broken as I looked at him on his favorite chair, sitting Indian style.  He wants things in his world to be right.  We want things in his world to be right, too, but we don’t always have the same definition of “right” as Aaron does.  Sometimes Gary and I have to be parents, with authority and rules, no matter how Aaron reacts.

 
And sometimes we’re tired.  Just tired of the ups and downs, the temper outbursts, the job of understanding and connecting for Aaron when he can’t.  Or won’t.  Which is it?  Who knows?

So I’ve looked at the roses in my vase on the kitchen table.  Aaron seems oblivious to the broken rose, but I am not.  To me, it’s a perfect picture of our day and sometimes of our life.  Broken…….tired……wilted.  Broken relationships at times……….broken words………broken promises…………broken hearts.

 
Keeping the broken rose in the midst of the perfect roses, though, also reminds me that our life isn’t all broken.  There is beauty all around us.  A laugh…..a hug…..some progress……..a game of Skip-Bo last night…….Aaron talking about hay barrels today, which always makes me smile. 

It’s also good to remember the broken things so that we can lean on God to fix them.  I sure can’t do the fixing.  I’m very thankful to know the God who can and who does, with great patience and love. 

Much more patience than I sometimes show to Aaron.  Infinite love.

And He never gets tired.  He’s there to hold me up when I am tired.

I love my broken rose.  I love my wonderful Aaron.  And I’m glad that Aaron loves me, broken and all.
 

Lessons From the New Sprouts

 

Yesterday was a beautiful first day of spring.   The bright sunshine belied the fact that we may get some snow this weekend.  Ah yes, spring is a fickle time of year for sure!  By this time of year, everyone is ready for the cold, gray days of winter to give way to the bright colors of spring.  We are ready to listen to the happy chirping of birds and to enjoy the fresh smell of spring that is somehow in the air.  Snow is not something that we look forward to when everything in us is longing for warmth and for open windows and walks in the great outdoors.
 
I’ve become used to looking outside and seeing our brown flower beds.  They are full of faded mulch and the ugly stubs of once pretty flowers.  I didn’t get the dwarf crepe myrtles trimmed back last fall, so those tall dead limbs stick up as a constant reminder that they have had no visible life for several months.  Crunchy dried leaves are piled among the straggly remnants of last year’s growth.  Almost everything is dusty and crunchy, a drab brown and gray palette that does nothing for the senses.  It’s a scenery that is a reminder of what has been……….of what once was………. but now of uselessness and decay and death. 

 

Yet as I drove to an appointment, I saw what looked like the beginnings of buds on some trees.  I saw some pale yellow daffodils blooming beside some one’s house.  Later, at home, I went out with our Great Dane and while he explored the yard, I decided to do a little exploring of my own in one of the flower beds.  I bent over and looked closely.  Then I gently moved aside some of the dry and faded mulch.  And there, under the all the dullness of the mulch and the dirt, I found the tender green shoots of our garden phlox poking through the soil.  Behind me, as I searched some more, I found the young sprouts of our tiger lilies coming out.  Jackson and I walked to the front yard, and there as I did some more gentle digging I found the fresh green of my salvia showing among the dead growth of last summer.  In the corner of that flower bed, without any digging needed, was the unmistakable soft and fuzzy newness of my lamb’s ear.  From a distance, the scenery was still dull and lifeless.  But when I took the time to look, I could see the beginnings of new life.  I could see the hope of a beautiful spring starting to emerge from the seemingly lifeless ground. 
My journey on this earth is full of ups and downs………..the seasons of life shift and change as time goes on.  There are seasons of growth, seasons of calmness, seasons of joy……….and then there are those seasons when I feel a chill in the air, seasons of storms when the sun is hidden, and seasons when I feel that around me I only see the fading of what was.  The drabness of my current sad situation threatens to overtake my vision.  Looking out the window of my life only reveals a dusty mess.  We all have these seasons of life.  Sometimes the seasons change suddenly.  In a flash, we go from happiness to despair.  At other times the shifting is more subtle.  Days and months flow by, and we begin to slowly realize that life has altered and there seems to be no way to get things around us back to the growing, thriving standard that we once knew. 
 
I know that in the dreary days of winter, my perennials in the flower beds around our house are safe underground.  They are alive, though not seen, and they are being fed by the moisture that comes.  Even the cold, harsh snow will give them the sustenance they need in order to survive.  So it is in my life…….in your life…….as we follow Christ.  The seasons where we only see gloom and coldness are really the times that we have an opportunity to rest under the care of our heavenly Father.  Let Him nourish us with His Word, with how He speaks to us in the listless times through the Holy Spirit, and how He uses friends to encourage and lift us up.  The reasons for our dark times don’t even always need to be understood or explained.  Many times, God just wants us to be still and to let Him work as we lay buried in Him.

Then one day without even digging, we will see the sweet evidence of growth.  New shoots will be emerging from the gloom of our lives…………shoots of hope, of joy, of peace………the fruit of many lessons learned.  Isaiah may have been talking about the millennial kingdom in Isaiah 61:11, but I believe we can claim these verses for our lives as well:  “For as the earth brings forth its sprouts, and as a garden causes the things sown in it to spring up, so the Lord God will cause righteousness and praise to spring up before all the nations.” 
 
Just as sure as I know that my garden phlox and salvia and lamb’s ear will return, so I know that God will cause His righteousness to prevail and His praise to spring up in my heart once again.  No matter what stress and change and disappointment we face, we can know for certain that God has a season of growth ahead for us………a season of beauty……….a beautiful spring up ahead.  

Lessons From the Icicles

 

It’s been another very mild and very dry winter here in Kansas.  It’s felt and even looked more like spring than winter this year.  While it’s been nice not to find ourselves maneuvering over slick roads, we do need some moisture.  And boy, did we get it!  A huge storm plowed into Kansas this week, leaving us in our part of the state with at least 14 inches of beautiful snow.  We woke up to a world of glimmer as the sun shone brightly on the newly fallen snow.  The ground is encased in a sparkly white wrap, fresh and mostly untouched in our big back yard. 
 
I also noticed another result of our massive snow storm as I looked out of our upstairs windows.  There hang long rows of icicles.  They have their own unique beauty, all clear and shiny like hanging crystals.  No two seem to be the same shape as the once dripping water has frozen into various forms and sizes.  Icicles are fascinating to observe and can be very pretty when the sun is shining on them, causing them to gleam in the light.  But icicles also have another aspect.  They can be sharp and dangerous as well. 
  
This morning I saw that the icicles hanging on the front of our house were starting to drip.  They were melting because they were facing east, where the morning sun was beating down upon them.  There was not a cloud in the sky and even though the temperature was cold, the warmth of the sun was still able to reach into their icy coverings and begin the melting process. 
Soon I walked into another bedroom on the west side of our house, where the sun was not yet reaching.  There hung another long row of icicles, still firm and cold in the shadow of the morning.  The sun had not yet touched these frozen fingers of ice, so they were still solid and stiff.  They didn’t really even appear as shiny and beautiful as the icicles that were being touched by the sun.  These hanging jabs of ice seemed colder, even more harsh, than the icicles in the front that were warming in the sun.
 
These icicles reminded me of some of the lingering results of personal storms in my  life…….especially times that have involved the hurt inflicted by others.  I imagine that you have had those hurts as well.  We all experience that pain at some point in our lives.  If we’re not careful, those wounds can develop into icy slivers of bitterness in our hearts.  Where there was once the flowing warmth of relationship there is now the frozen stab of disappointment that has pierced our heart.  Sometimes the situation is private and no one knows about it but us.  Other times the hurt is very public and embarrassing, misunderstood and whispered about by others.  The results are the same, though.  The pain created by these wounds is still very intense regardless of how they occur.
 
Solomon wrote about these matters.  In Proverbs 14:10 he said, “The heart knows its own bitterness…..”  No one but us knows what is in our hearts.  We may appear to be fine and normal to others, but those icy shards of bitterness have frozen our hearts.  We dwell on the situation and rehash the hurtful words and scenarios over and over again.  Our heart knows its bitterness, so very well, and we become numb in our pain……….and numb to the other Person who also knows what is in our heart.  God knows…..and He does care very much about that chill that has encased us and frozen us. 
 
In Ephesians 4:31-32, there are several sins that God tells us to put away.  The first one listed is bitterness.  Then God says to “……be kind to one another, tender hearted, forgiving each other…..”  So how can I be kind and tender and forgiving to those that have hurt me so deeply?  How can my heart be warmed again when it is so frozen with injustice and pain?   Well, it’s not easy, but God tells us here that the first way to start is to remember that we are to forgive “……..just as God in Christ also has forgiven you.”     How can I be unforgiving when I have been SO forgiven by God?  I am forgiven……..and I must be forgiving to others. 
 
When I take this first step and realize my position in Christ, then His light will begin to thaw that immobile, cold heart of mine.  Forgiveness here carries the idea of releasing.  I need to constantly release to God the people and the situations that have so chilled my heart.  Let Him bear my pain and let Him warm my cold heart.  And if those people are still present in my life, then I am to show kindness and tenderness.  Look for ways to serve, to be kind, and to be tender hearted……..not hard hearted with a frozen heart but to be tender and loving.  It’s not easy, but God will enable and give grace to do what is the most difficult. 
 
Soon l will hear a dripping noise and realize that my once solid, icy heart is thawing out under the warmth of God’s love and His enabling.  He won’t force me to allow His light to shine in my inner being, but if I open that door and allow Him in, then the melting will begin.  Slowly but surely the damaging icicles will dissolve as I focus, not on the other person or on the pain that they have caused, but as I focus on the light of God’s forgiveness and love in my once cold heart.

 

 
Shine Your light in my heart, O God, and let the melting begin!