Category: Devotional

Little Is Much

We live in a world where bigger is usually seen as better.  A bigger house; bigger job; bigger bank account; bigger TV screen; bigger stores; bigger selections; bigger sales; bigger churches; bigger buildings; bigger budgets.  It’s not that these things are bad, but I was thinking this morning about how God likes to use the little.

A little couple in the Garden of Eden; a little Joseph being thrown in a pit; a little baby Moses in a basket; a little David watching sheep and slinging little stones; a little Moabite girl named Ruth; a little Jewish girl named Esther; a little widow with a little flour and a little oil; a little servant girl of Naaman’s wife; a little young man named Daniel; a little town of Nazareth; a little couple named Joseph and Mary; a little dirty cave; a little carpenter family; a little boy with little loaves and fishes; a little woman of Samaria; a little group of disciples; a little man named Paul; a group of little churches; a little man named John banished on the little isle of Patmos………

It’s a pretty big list of little things and it isn’t nearly complete.  We could add some things today. 

A little mommy singing little songs to her little children.   A little daddy reading from a little Bible as they gather around a little bed at night.

A little smile to a little stranger.

A little card in the mail.

A little phone call to encourage.

A little hug.

A little prayer.

God uses the weak, the little, to confound the mighty.

Let’s remember the words to that old hymn:  Little is much, if God is in it.

God wants us to give Him our little and watch Him use it in a big way. 

Footprints in the Water

Israel was in bondage in Egypt when God raised up a deliverer, Moses.  The people watched with wonder as God performed miracle after miracle.  A staff that turned into a serpent;  water turning to blood; frogs; gnats; flies; locusts…..   So many signs and wonders God performed.  So many tangible evidences of His might and power.  Then at Passover, the application of the blood on the door posts, the deaths of the first born of the disobedient – more evidences of God’s working.  He was there with them, unmistakable, and working among Israelites and Egyptians alike.  The proof was everywhere to be seen.

Finally Pharaoh let the people go.  They left Egypt quickly, trusting in God’s power to protect them.  God led them by a pillar of cloud during the day, and at night a pillar of fire.  This was just even more evidence of God’s plan being fulfilled for Israel, and more proof to these weary people that God was leading them forward.  They were progressing onward, yes, but they had no idea of what was just ahead.

God told Moses to have the Israelites turn back from where they were and to encamp by the Red Sea.  I wonder how many Israelites had serious doubts about this decision that God had made.  Still they were safe, though, because there were ways around the sea.  That is, until they looked out on the horizon and saw the hordes of Egyptian soldiers bearing down on them.  There was no way of escape now.  They were surrounded by water that was impassable, and by soldiers that were impassioned, and by a situation that was impossible!

The people of Israel feared greatly at this reality.  Gone were the thoughts of locusts and frogs and water turning to blood.  Gone was the trust that we think they should have shown in the God Who had led them this far by performing so many miracles.  All they could see was the hopeless situation all around them, and the doom they knew was impending.  They cried out to the Lord and to Moses in their fear and anger.  “What have you done to us in bringing us out of Egypt?  It would be better for us to serve the Egyptians than to die in the wilderness!” 

Moses replied, “Fear not; stand firm, and see the salvation of the Lord which He will work for you today.  The Lord will fight for you and you have only to be silent.”  What?  Be silent?  We’re all going to DIE!!!!  Those are my words because I imagine I would say something like that in this situation……which is why I was so struck the other  morning as I read Psalm 77:19:  “Your way was through the sea, your path through the great waters; yet your footprints were unseen.”

God’s footprints were all over the place as He brought plague after plague upon the people of Egypt.  It’s comforting to have footprints to follow when you’re going through a hard time, even if you’re not exactly sure where they will lead.  The Israelites never dreamed that God would lead them to the Red Sea and then leave them there as they were surrounded by the blood thirsty Egyptians.  They forgot God’s power as they looked at their seemingly impossible situation.  They forgot to trust when God’s footprints were unseen in the water.

Yet God’s way for Israel was through the sea.  His path for Israel was through the great waters.  Sometimes that’s where my path leads, too – up against situations and events that are deep with trouble or fraught with questions.  God wants me to venture forward, trusting in Him even when I can’t see his footprints in the water.  You see, it’s not the footprints I need to be trusting.  It’s God Himself that I need to lean on with faith and obedience. 

And I can fully claim the promise of Isaiah 43:2:  “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you.”

 

 

When Questions Come

I’m sitting at the kitchen table on this fairly early morning, listening to the sounds of my day beginning.  It’s really a quiet morning, almost as if the outside fog is buffering all other noise.  I hear our Great Dane let out an occasional groaning sigh, so typical of him.  He just ate his breakfast and ran outside to do his business, so he is once again lying on his big pillow with his ever-present blanket close by his side.  I hear the swishing of the washing machine as it begins to wash the load I just piled into its tub.  I hear the quiet sound of the furnace running on this cool morning, and I am thankful for the privilege of heat for our house.     

There is another sound I hear, as well as one that I hope I do not hear.  I hear the sound of Aaron’s soft breathing coming from the couch where he is now lying.  Every little bit I hear the soft fluttering sound of an almost-snore coming through his lips.  His head is on his very fluffy black pillow that he often perches behind his back when he watches TV or when he reads in bed at night.  And he is all snug under his new animal print blanket that he received from Paradigm for Christmas.  This is his new favorite blanket that has now been added to his growing list of bed covers at night……..and it is put on his bed in just the right order, which is on top of all the other covers so the fun animal print is visible.  I hear his slurred speech as he just stirred and asked about his coffee, and then was asleep again in seconds.  His throat is swollen and sore from probably the same virus that I had after Christmas, so I empathize with his pain and discomfort, and I wish he could have his warm coffee.

The sound I do not want to hear……..and the reason he is not drinking his coffee………is the sound of another seizure.  Aaron had two hard seizures during the night.  He has a bad headache right now, is very slow both physically and mentally, and will probably sleep for quite some time.  Yet his seizures usually occur in his sleep, and so I sit here listening and waiting and praying that he does not have another episode. 

I’m amazed at Aaron’s strength……at his ability to even get out of bed and make his way downstairs when he obviously feels so awful.  I’m amazed at his desire to keep his routines going even though he can barely stand.  He really wants to begin his day…..to get out of bed……to shower and drink his morning coffee…..and to talk, of course!  But none of this is very possible for him on this morning, so he clumsily made his way over to the couch and lay down.  I got his fuzzy pillow and animal print blanket, and he was asleep before I finished wrapping him all up in soft warmth. 

I don’t know why Aaron has to suffer like this.  His sore throat kept him from going to a basketball game last night with Barb, and that made me sad.  Now he also has seizures piled on top of feeling miserable anyway.  It’s very easy for me this morning to ask those ever-present questions……..the ones that lurk near the top of my mind on days like this.  Why does Aaron have to suffer?  Why is life so hard for him?  Why are things so complicated?  We’ve added a new drug to help with Aaron’s autistic behaviors, but is this why his seizures are increasing?  Now what?  One thing helps but also hurts, so here we go down this path again.  It can be overwhelming and frustrating and deeply hurtful to watch Aaron endure all of this. 

From the time our children are growing in our womb, our hearts are entwined with theirs.  We cannot, and would not, separate ourselves from their pain and their trials……but also from their joys and triumphs.  It’s just that poor Aaron doesn’t have a lot of joys and triumphs, it seems.  At least that’s how I feel on a day like today.  The poor guy is even color-blind! 

Yet I know from years of experience that when Aaron is suffering, like today, that I need to especially guard my heart.  It’s easy to keep trudging down that path of defeat and unanswered questions.  I will probably never know until eternity why Aaron suffers.  Why does Elijah, and so many others, suffer on such a great level?  Why did Paul, and Ben, and Katy not live past their young adulthood?  I could name so many families who are suffering from ongoing hurts and trials.  We all can.  Why?

Just like Job did, we question God sometimes.  I am convinced that God wants to use Aaron to point me more to Him.  To learn to give God my complete trust and my praise even on these days when Aaron is seizing and has a bad sore throat and wasn’t able to go have some fun at a basketball game like everyone else does.  Oops, there I go again……….letting my mind focus on the sad and the negative instead of on God. 

I opened my Bible here at the kitchen table while listening to Aaron’s sleeping sounds.  I sometimes just open it and see where my eyes land, and what God has for me in those verses.  This morning it was Job 9, where Job talks about God’s power revealed in nature but also questions God’s bruising and wounding in his own life.  Job couldn’t figure out what God was doing at all, and neither can I.  Oh, I know what God was doing with Job because I have the whole picture as written in the book of Job.  But I don’t see that whole picture in my life as it relates to Aaron’s sufferings. 

Reading Job 9 today reminded me of how God led me one morning in a hotel room in Missouri to read Isaiah 40.  Reading those verses about God’s mighty power in creation impacted me more than anything had in a long time.  I was reminded that this powerful God Who holds the oceans in His hand can certainly heal Aaron……..or do any number of other things that would mean a lot to me.  Yet He is also worthy of my complete trust when He does NOT choose to heal or to rescue immediately…..or ever.  I trust God because I know Him, even when I don’t understand Him.

Those surrounding chapters in Isaiah are rich with promise.  God does not become weary; His understanding is unsearchable; His strength is there for me; He will hold my right hand; He tells me not to fear.  He doesn’t say I won’t hurt or that I won’t question.  But my thoughts are to not dwell on those questions as much as they dwell on the One Who has the answers……….revealed to me now or not. 

So I wrap up my heart with God’s promises just as I wrapped Aaron up in his special animal print blanket this morning.  Once again I face my hurts and my pain for Aaron, propped up with God’s ever present love and his strong arms that are always under me.

Like Job I can say, “I have heard of You by the hearing of the ear; but now my eye sees You.” 

Experience does that, you know.  We can see God in ways we never have before. And that kind of experience is never wasted.    

It’s a NEGATIVE!

Aaron walked into the kitchen this morning around 7:20.  If I was Aaron, I would give you the precise time, such as he did with me after entering the kitchen.  “Mom!  Last night I went to bed at 10:42 and today I woke up at 6:53!”  This is always funny to me.  I never tire of hearing his precision with time like I tire of many other things that Aaron so often repeats.  He continued by wanting to know if he got enough sleep and then he volunteered to take his shower.  He sure was happy on this Monday morning, I thought………too soon.

It wasn’t long after his shower and after he was once again downstairs that I noticed a darkening of his once cheerful mood.  “Mom, do I have to go to Paradigm,” he asked?  I said yes and he proceeded to push a little more as he asked why he had to go.  He knew it was cold and that it was Monday, both of which were reason enough for him not to want to go to his group.  But his voice was getting angry now as he went downward on his path change.   Soon he answered me, as I was trying to reason with him, with a loud “NO!” 

Knowing that he was on the path of no return, I just turned around and marched up to his room without saying a word.  He quickly followed me and once again yelled as I started to unplug his keyboard.  As I turned and spoke firmly to him, he stared at me in defiance.  Then when I once again said that he would go to Paradigm, he sat on the edge of his bed and said, “NO!  It’s a NEGATIVE!!”

And then I knew.  I knew that Aaron had seen the outside temperature of -4 degrees on his indoor weather station.  This is a first, I thought.  There have been many reasons over the years that Aaron has refused to cooperate when it comes to leaving the house in the morning, but this was the first time that his reason was a simple, “It’s a NEGATIVE!”

Now in a way it was comical, especially with the way he phrased it.  It was once again hard for me not to laugh at him, but doing so would have only made him VERY angry.  It was a huge deal to him that it was a negative temperature outside.  Aaron is as particular about the weather as he is about the way that he makes his bed and places his pillows and covers just right………or the way that he meticulously clips the coupons………or reads his Handy Answer books at night………or how he watches all the credits on his DVDs…..ALL the credits.  Anyway, differing weather patterns, and definitely differing temperatures, throw him for a loop.  He cannot make the weather cooperate in his orderly world, so he will instead want to use it as an excuse for not going on about his day.

The negative temperature outside had quickly become a negative inside as well.  His attitude was negative, as was mine, and this whole morning was now headed down a very negative path.  It was enough to make me want to throw out those wonderful weather stations along with all the Christmas leftovers I was chucking in the trash!  Who cares what the outdoor temperature is?  Well, Aaron does………way too much!  Isn’t autism fun when a simple weather station and a simple negative temperature can cause such complex problems?  Good grief!

Well, to make a long story short, Aaron on his own started to have a definite mood improvement.  He eventually asked if we could use his Burger King gift card for another biscuit that he could take to Paradigm, so we did that.  Barb, at Paradigm, said that later Aaron had a little Burger King picnic on the floor of her office.  He was happy, despite the negative.

I’ve been thinking about myself today and all this negative business.  How do I let the negatives affect me?  Not the negative temperatures, but the other negatives in my life.  Will they make me angry, irritated, full of self-pity, aloof, bitter?  I often can’t control my negatives any more than Aaron can control the weather, but I CAN control my reactions to the negatives that come my way. 

We work and work with Aaron in his autistic state in order to better enable him to handle his reactions and emotions.  Likewise, I know that God works and works with me in order to better enable me, through the Holy Spirit, to handle the negatives of this life.  To not let them get me down and out………to not let them make me yell, “NO!” to God or to anyone else……….to not let them become an excuse for shutting myself inside myself and not opening up to all that God has for me.

God wants me to go about my day, just as much as we want Aaron to do likewise, without letting the negatives call the shots.  Let the negatives become positives, and decide to sit down and have a happy picnic.  I know it’s often easier said than done, but it is a choice that only I can make.  I hope Aaron has learned today that he did survive the negative……..and I want to learn that I can survive the negative, too. 

However, I do hope it’s a little warmer tomorrow.

 

I’ll Ask Mom

This past Saturday, I decided to make some Christmas cookies.  I knew right away the ones that I wanted to make as I pulled out my recipes.  There it was……Mary’s Sugar Cookies……….a family favorite for many, many years.  I was trying to remember where the recipe had come from.  I knew that Mom had gotten it from a friend when we kids were little.  I still use the original recipe that I copied from her file before Gary and I got married.  But there is no record about where Mom got the recipe.  Was it from Rose Stepp, who used to give Mom and us four girls perms at her house?  Or was it from Mary Underwood, another good family friend of Mom’s when we were growing up? 

As I was getting everything ready to make the cookies, a thought crossed my mind.  A very natural thought…….one that I have thought hundreds and hundreds of times over the years.  “I’ll just ask Mom where she got the recipe,” I thought.  But just as quickly as that thought occurred, I had a second thought……..a very sad realization.  I can’t ask Mom where the recipe came from because she won’t remember.  And if she did give me a name I would honestly not know if she was correct. 

It seems like a small thing – the fact that she most likely wouldn’t even remember Mary’s Sugar Cookies, much less where they came from.  But this inability to solve my cookie question is only the tip of the iceberg for Mom.  Her Alzheimer’s has taken such a toll on her memory now that it’s really shocking to talk to John and Jan about how she’s doing.  It’s also very telling to talk to Mom on the phone, and to realize that she doesn’t know who I am…….and even when I say that I’m Patty as we first start talking, I know right away that she probably doesn’t even know that Patty is her daughter.

It’s been totally surprising, too, to hear about how she doesn’t know John.  He and I talked yesterday, and the things he told me were so sad.  We thought that she would remember John for a lot longer.  He’s her only son, and he’s also her pastor.  But she is always surprised that the man in the pulpit is her son, and she talks about how she had no idea that John the pastor is John her son. 

Perhaps most stunning of all, though, is that she doesn’t seem to recognize Dad as she looks at pictures of him.  Mom will point to pictures of her and Dad, and then refer to him as her father.  She did recently, with John, point to her wedding picture and refer to Dad as her husband……but not as Jack.  She rarely if ever talks about him anymore.  We just shake our heads in disbelief.  I’ve never known another couple as devoted to each other as Mom and Dad were.  They were inseparable during their retirement years.  But now this awful Alzheimer’s has taken him out of her mind, it seems.

Maybe, though, in some ways that lack of memory is a blessing for Mom.  Tomorrow marks five years since Dad went to heaven.  I was with them the month before he died.  I saw Mom’s total commitment to him as he declined.  There was nothing she wouldn’t do to make his days more tolerable.  At night he would lie in his hospital bed and she would be lying in their bed beside him with her hand through the rails, holding his feeble hand as they fell asleep.  She cleaned him and nursed him as best she could and made sure he was warm and comfortable and happy.  She was getting very confused at that point, and Dad knew it.  He was so worried about her, but we assured him that she would be fine.  I think he needed to know that before he was ready to leave.

Nearly every night during that month, Mom and I would ask Dad what he wanted to eat for supper.  She and I cooked a main meal for lunch, so supper was lighter.  And nearly every night he would think for a few seconds, then smile his incredible sweet smile, and softly and slowly tell us that he wanted scrambled eggs.  But he wanted Mom’s scrambled eggs, made by her hands.  I have the plastic cooking fork that she used for those eggs.  The thoughts of those nights, watching Dad slowly and contentedly eat Mom’s scrambled eggs, washed over me the other day when I scrambled some eggs…….and knew they were not nearly as good as Mom’s.  Or as Mom’s used to be, for I doubt that now she could scramble an egg at all. 

 
It’s truly a blessing that Dad isn’t here to see her like this.  We kids don’t know if he could have survived the sadness.  He was so dependent on her, and so we see God’s mercy in taking him on first.    Just like we can also see God’s mercy in the fact that Mom isn’t grieving his death or missing him daily like she used to do. 

 
But we’ll remember him for her, especially tomorrow.  And we’ll remember their love for each other, for each of us kids, and for the Lord.  We have so much for which to be thankful that even through some tears we can smile and even laugh at the memories.  Christmas was their favorite time of year, so now in some ways it’s bittersweet.  Yet Dad is so very happy in heaven, and Mom will one day join him there.

We have hope through it all.  Hope!  That’s a wonderful word that carries wonderful promise.  Dad’s death wasn’t the end and Mom’s Alzheimer’s is not the end.  We have eternity to anticipate, where nothing will ever be forgotten again. 

I can find out where that cookie recipe came from, too.

LESSONS FROM THE HIDDEN FIELD

Our daylight this morning was muted and as I opened our blinds I could see the reason.  Fog.  We had the same scene yesterday as well, but I believe this morning’s fog was even thicker than the day before.  Opening even more blinds didn’t do much for letting light into our house on this foggy morning.  The sun was completely hidden.  Something else was hidden too.  I noticed it as I stood in Andrea’s room and looked out of her windows.  I love the view from this vantage point.  I can see our entire back field and then look across the road to the farmer’s field.  It’s a view that I’m so accustomed to that I hardly recognize the comfort it gives me until it’s gone……..like it was today. 

 
The field, that is.  It seemed to be gone.  I still had a view of sorts, but my pretty farmer’s field was not to be seen through the thick fog.  And I missed it.  I felt boxed in……cornered, in a way.  I’ve become used to expansive views living here in flat Kansas, and I love that.  I love seeing way out ahead, knowing what’s coming and what’s there just by one look.  But today, for the second day, my view was limited and my field was not there…..so it seemed. 

Oh, I knew the field hadn’t gone anywhere.  Fields don’t just up and leave.  But I couldn’t prove it was there by what I was seeing at the moment.  What I was seeing was…….fog.  Fog that seemed to be deepening by the minute, which obscured my view even more.  By the time I left the house to run my errands a couple hours later, the fog was still hovering low to the ground.  And my field was still unseen, at least by me.

I was gone longer than I had anticipated today.  Christmas shopping, you know.  By the time I drove home, the lights on the van were no longer needed.  The sun was shining brightly, the sky was blue, the temperature warm………and my view had returned.  I walked upstairs and into Andrea’s room to look out the window, and there it was.  The field.  Of course, I knew it would be there but it sure was nice to see it for myself.  My world looked entirely different in just a few hours…..bright and large and back to normal.
 
I got a lump in my throat this morning as I thought about the fog.  It wasn’t that the fog made me want to cry, but what the whole scene represented to me caused my emotion.  You see, I’ve had a life that I’ve been used to for a long time.  Really, ever since I was a little girl there are aspects of my life that have been pretty much the same.  The past few years have changed a lot of things for me, though.  Change has come in various ways.  Loss of parents.  Kids growing up and moving on.  Physical changes as I age.  Health decisions for Aaron.  And perhaps most significant of all, for the present, is the loss of a dear ministry that we loved and the fellowship with friends that went with it.  It’s put me……..us………in a place we have never been before. 

Loss and change of this type cause a season of grief and instability.  Like having my normal view disrupted by the fog, all this change in my life has been unnerving to me.  What I have been accustomed to no longer exists.  I look out the windows but I don’t see very far.  I can’t tell what’s ahead, not even a little bit.  I don’t have instant answers to my questions.  And honestly, just like not being able to see the field, I sometimes don’t even see God.

Don’t get me wrong.  I know God doesn’t just up and leave one of His children.   I couldn’t prove the field was there today by what I was seeing……or not seeing……but I knew it was there because I know about fields and I know they don’t vanish.  I can’t always prove God is here by what I see or how I feel, but I know God and I know He doesn’t leave me.  I know that God has allowed a period of fog in my life, if for no other reason than to teach me to walk by faith and not by sight………and not by emotions…….and not by clinging to that which is comfortable and familiar. 

Will my world someday be bright and large and back to normal?  I have a feeling that my normal will be forever changed.  But I do anticipate that God will clear away the fog and that my view will be enlarged.  I don’t know how and I don’t know when.  But I know God and I know He is with me.  He does not hide His face from His children.  Through the fog He is there, faithful and steady and sure even when I don’t see Him. 

I hope I’ve learned through all of this that I can’t trust the view.  It’s God Himself that I must trust, even when I don’t see Him. 

He never just up and leaves.
 

 

 

 

In Everything

Teaching our children to say thank-you was a lesson that we started at a very early age.  Most parents do, I’m sure.  It was so cute to hear their little voices say those words, and very gratifying as parents when they said them without prompting.  Like all of life’s early lessons, though, it had to be taught.  Very few children will just naturally be thankful.

Sometimes Aaron is demanding.  “Mom! Come here!”   “Mom! Look!”  Mom! Bring me my coffee!”  I remind him all the time to say please and thank you.  Why are those words sometimes so hard for him to say?  And how often, after handing him something, do I stand there and wait?  He might notice me waiting and he might not.  If he doesn’t notice, I’ll eventually say those words that all of us have said many times.  “What do you say?” I’ll ask.  Then comes the thank-you, but not without my prompting.  An unprompted, spontaneous thank-you would have meant so much more to me.

How often, though, do I do this same thing to God?  How like a child I am in my relationship to Him!  For me, it’s easy to say thank-you for the obvious.  My husband, my children, my home, my health, my friends, food………..   The list can get long.  But I know there are times when God stands beside me waiting for me to say thank-you.  Sometimes I just forget to say the words.  Yet many times the thing He wants me to thank Him for is not something that I necessarily AM even thankful for. 

There He stands, waiting.  Waiting on me.  The eventual stirring in my heart is when I imagine Him leaning down toward me.  “What do you say?” He whispers to me.  And He waits for me to remember that He has said, “In everything give thanks.”  Not just the obvious……….not just the pleasant……….but in everything.  And when I finally remember to say thank-you, or I finally get over my hurt or stubbornness and say thank-you, I know that He is very pleased. 

He loves me.  He wants me to know that “in everything” He has my good in mind.  Saying those words isn’t a magic formula.  It’s instead an acknowledgement of trust on my part.  Even when I don’t feel thankful, just saying the words to Him opens my heart to a level of trust that I hadn’t known before.  I trust that this thing…….this situation…….is sent from God for my good and for His glory. 

What do you say?  Thank You, God.  Thank you.

 

 

My Purpose

It was a Saturday afternoon several weeks ago when my phone jingled, and I picked it up to see that my good friend, Atha, had texted.  We exchanged greetings and then she asked how my day was going, wondering what I was doing.   So I told her what I was doing.  Ironing.  Yes, I was ironing on a Saturday afternoon.  Immediately Atha texted back and as I looked down at my phone, I read these four words.  Established in your purpose. 

That simple phrase jumped off of my cell phone screen and ingrained itself into my heart the very moment that I read it.  Wow!  In fact, I told Atha how I loved what she had just said.  And knowing me as she does, she told me to feel free to use it someday.  I could just hear her laughter. 

Part of the impact of those words came from who said them.  Atha…………Dr. Athalene McNay to be precise……….is highly educated.  She has also started a business coaching those who have ADHD, and she is a college professor.  I respect her abilities and insights.  Yet more importantly, she is my dear friend.  God allowed our paths to cross over ten years ago, and both of us are so thankful that He did.  So her words were both professionally uplifting to me and encouraging to me as a friend.  Atha and I are very much alike in some ways, but our paths at this time in our lives are very different.  We both have purpose, and Atha values my purpose as much as she does her own.

I’ve been dwelling on that phrase more and more lately……..established in your purpose.  Established in MY purpose.  So what is my purpose?  In what am I to be established; to be firm and stable? 

I remember when Gary and I were dating 35 years ago.  As we became more serious in our relationship we were discussing many things.  One important thing that I was thankful that we agreed on was the fact that if we got married, and if God gave us children, I wanted to be able to stay home with them if at all possible.  Gary and I both had the same mind regarding that issue, and as the years passed and our three children were born we were able to see that desire fulfilled.   That was a purpose that we had together, but it was definitely my purpose for as long as I could remember even before I knew Gary. 

I feel blessed to still be a full-time homemaker, and to be able to stay home with Aaron.  I never dreamed, and neither did Gary, that we would have a special needs child.  Aaron has certainly kept me more confined, should I say, and for longer, than I ever imagined.  Oh, he has his day group every weekday and is gone for several hours.  But taking care of Aaron is a purpose that is mine for this time of my life, and in that purpose I know that I should be stable.  It’s a good thing that I love this life, but there are those days………

Days of tiredness.  Days when I feel guilty for not spending more time with him, or for losing my patience with him.  Days of resentment.  Days of routine boredom.  Days of such intense empathy for him that I feel like my heart will explode.  Days of such love for him that I fight the tears.   Days of wishing I had any other life but this one.  Up and down, up and down. 

But isn’t this just life for all of us?  Whatever your purpose is……….whatever road God has set you on………can have many potholes and speed bumps.  It’s always tempting to compare our road’s journey to someone else who does it better or easier or more exotically.  I often have to force myself to look straight ahead as I refocus on my priorities.  My purpose, like Atha said.  And to be established in that purpose.  Firm and stable, as the definition says. 

Even if it means that I’m ironing on a Saturday afternoon, struggling to keep that one crease in Gary’s pants in the place where it belongs.   Ugh!  Even if it means listening to Aaron say the same things over and over and over……and clap……….and yell……….and get angry……and chew with his mouth open as he leans over the third bowl he thinks he MUST have with his snack.  The mundane purposes of life can really stretch my ability to be established, let me tell you! 

Sometimes I think, “Oh, if I was speaking or teaching or singing before large crowds, I would be so blessed and enthused.  What an impact I could have!”  

Or, “Oh, if I could figure out how to write and publish a book, just think of how many people I could reach!”

And, “Oh, if I had such-and-such a ministry or job, it would be so fulfilling!”

Maybe someday that will be God’s purpose for me, but for now it is not.  So for now I will be established in my purpose…….the purpose that God has planned for me this very day.  And I will seek to, as Paul said, do all things to the glory of God.  Don’t even ask how many times I fail in that purpose alone, but God is so patient with me and for that I am ever thankful. 

Being established in my purpose.  It may not be dazzling and exciting, but this purpose that God has for me is just right.

And so is yours.  Be established in YOUR purpose.   

 

The Reality

I was awakened early Sunday morning to the unmistakable sound of Aaron having a seizure.  I turned the baby monitor on my nightstand down and mentally checked the time as I got out of bed and headed for his room.  I have to chart Aaron’s seizures, writing down the time they occur and the duration.  He would love the fact that I note the time so precisely………the seizure began at 4:57 and ended at 4:59.  The second seizure was two hours later, after we were already up, and again I heard it on the monitor that I had put beside me on the kitchen table.  After a while, Aaron got out of bed and slowly made his way downstairs, where he told Gary and me that his head hurt………and we told him about the seizures, which of course he never remembers. 

He had a normal day, but was lethargic and rather quiet.  Then at 2:30 he decided to take a nap, and around 3:30 I heard another seizure – unusual for that time of day.  After such a hard day, I was happy to take him to Sonic that evening for his favorite hot fudge milkshake.  When we got home, he put the milkshake in his blue bowl, of course, and sat there slowly enjoying it.  He was very quiet as he sat there sipping his milkshake.  He wasn’t doing his usual talking a mile a minute about everything under the sun……..and even though when he IS talking a lot I sometimes wish for quietness, this silence now was unnerving to me.  As I looked at him hunched over his favorite milkshake, I felt a keen sadness.  I knew that the reason he was so quiet was because he didn’t feel well……….and he didn’t feel well because of the seizures………and we don’t know why he has seizures………and we can’t take them away.  He just looked very alone and vulnerable as he quietly sipped his milkshake.

 
He wasn’t through with his milkshake when he stood up and groaned.  At first I thought he was just full, or maybe had brain freeze from drinking too quickly……….but he then told me that his stomach hurt.  Stomach aches after seizures aren’t unusual, so I wasn’t alarmed.  He lay on the couch, and I turned to go upstairs and get his blanket.  “Mom?” he asked as I headed for the stairs, “Will you get my black fuzzy pillow and my black fuzzy blanket?”  I didn’t correct him and tell him that his blanket is brown because I knew it didn’t matter at all.  When I brought the blanket back, he was giving Gary instructions about what to do with his milkshake.  “I don’t want it in the freezer.  Will you put it in the refrigerator?”  And soon Aaron was fast asleep, a little after 8:00 on a Sunday night.

As I sat there looking at him, with football on the TV screen………and Aaron having asked me before he fell asleep about which team I was “voting for”……………I again felt such sadness.  Sometimes the reality of Aaron………of his epilepsy and of his autism and just of his life in general…………sweeps over me in waves of sadness.  As his mother, too, I am pulled to him and filled with compassion for my son.  But sometimes it goes beyond compassion to just plain old sadness………..lump in my throat, tears in my eyes sadness.  This was one of those nights.

I sat there, aware of the football game that I had wanted to watch, but more aware of my boy on the couch……….sleeping when he should have been drinking his favorite milkshake…….having seizures when he should have been young and vibrant………..living at home with Mom and Dad when he should have been out on his own.  I know not to go there in my mind, at least not for long, for it serves no purpose.  Yet sometimes those thoughts do come and they do stay longer than I intend……….reminding me of Aaron’s reality, and ours as well. 

As I listened to Aaron’s deep breathing and watched him sleep, I thought of other families and other children and other situations.  I could list so many people that we know who have very serious problems in their lives.  I know that Gary and I are so blessed, for things could be far worse for Aaron and for us.  I wonder how some of our friends handle the stresses and the heartaches that they daily face.  So many people with realities that seem almost impossible to fathom. 

I remember being in Wal-Mart one day several years ago and coming upon a group of special needs adults on an outing with their staff.  It hit me almost like ice water in my face that now my son is one of these special needs adults who goes on outings.  He is one that you may see in Wal-Mart or the mall or at the theater.  And believe me, if it was Aaron, you would probably hear him as well.  But really, I mentally shook my head in disbelief.  I never saw it in quite that light before.  Our bright-eyed-at-birth Aaron who had all the promise in the world…….our first-born…………our son………was one that people now see with his special needs group out in town.  And while we love and accept Aaron, and we are very thankful for what makes Aaron  –  Aaron………well, mostly…………it was just a very firm reality check for me that day.

For the past few days I’ve been thinking about what I was like when I was young and life was full of promise.  High school and college days were wonderful.  All of us had so many good times with all the fun that goes along with youth.  I remember nights in the dorm with my girlfriends as we talked about boys and dating and marriage.  No one ever thought about facing life’s serious issues someday.  If such things ever did happen, it would be very far away……..and would probably happen to someone else……….never us.  Later, we were starry-eyed brides with our handsome grooms…….or single with a career or ministry.  Many of us shared news of babies and jobs and life. 

None of us ever dreamed about cancer…….saying goodbye to a spouse or child way too soon……..divorce………losing everything……….wayward children………a special needs child.  And I know that what we tried to teach our children, and what I tried to instill in girls I have taught in Sunday School, is very true.  We must have our knowledge of Who God is firmly rooted in our hearts before the realities of life hit us full force. Know God.  Know His character.  Know His love.  Know His promises. 

Then some night when you’re looking at your son laying on the couch, like I was, and you’re struck with the harsh reality of how things really are………….or you’re standing beside a coffin………or you’re looking at divorce papers…………or you’re reeling from yet another heartache caused by your wayward child………..or you’re voted out……….or you’re signing foreclosure papers…………you can reach out and grab the only absolute that is there for that moment.  God, and Who He is.  Maybe you’re even angry at Him, and don’t understand anything at all……….but you do know that God is Who He says He is, and that He will be all that you need at that moment, and for the moments still to come. 

Learn it early and learn it well, because if you live long enough you WILL need to hold on to this God Who loves us more than we can ever love another……….even more than we love our Aaron.   

Walking With Dad

Every autumn when we were young, when the leaves were vibrantly colored and the mountain air was crisp in my home state of West Virginia, Dad would set aside a Sunday afternoon for our annual long trek through the woods.  I’m sure that Mary Beth, John, Jan, and Kathryn remember that special tradition as well.  Dad would take us up in the woods behind our old house in the Elmore addition and off we would all go, following Dad as he led us on the road or the path through the trees.  Dad worked six days a week, so I know it was a sacrifice of his time  to take us on this outing.  He would point out the various trees by name, telling us interesting facts about each species.  He would stop and tell us to be very quiet as we listened to the forest sounds around us.  We would listen expectantly………waiting……….waiting……….until we heard the unique chirping of a squirrel, or the rustling leaves caused by a hopping rabbit, or the unmistakable shrill of a Blue Jay or a hawk.  Dad wanted us to not only have fun on this walk, but to see and to learn from all that was around us. 
 
Eventually we would end the day sitting on the ground of a sloping hillside, enjoying the wonderful sunshine and fresh air…………and time together as a family; although that is a treasure that is relished now, I’m sure, more than it was at that particular time.  I don’t remember how long we were in the woods.  Time was irrelevant as a child.  It seemed like forever, but I’m sure it wasn’t all that long.  I do know that if I had been in those woods alone, I would have been terrified.  But with my dad leading the way, and with my siblings around me, I never had a doubt or fear.  I was secure and carefree, loving the experience and trusting in the guidance of my dad. 
 
I’m thinking of all this because I was reading Psalm 5 this morning.  David is in a very bad predicament here, even dangerous.  He talks about the importance of preparing his prayers and the importance of knowing the God to Whom he is praying………and then in verse 8 he begins to pray.  “Lord (Yahweh), lead me in Your righteousness because of those lurking for me; make Your way straight before me.” 
 
David is asking God to lead him in the right way – that’s the first request he makes.  God, show me the way to go……..the right way.  And why?  Because all around there is danger.  There are enemies who want to trip him up, even to kill him.  But isn’t it interesting that David first asked to be led in the right way before he asked to be led in the safe way?  And that David didn’t ask to be delivered OUT of the way of the hard stuff, but to be led IN the right way IN the midst of the hard stuff.  “Make Your way straight before me” doesn’t sound like David was asking for a detour around the situation, but a straight way through it.
 
We’re all on a path, and many times it isn’t too rosy.  When it leads through the dark woods of suffering and anguish, we can easily lose sight of our Guide.  Sometimes we need to just stop and listen…………….listening for what it is God wants to say to us and to show us.  There may be times that we don’t hear anything at all, but we can pray.  Like Dale Ralph Davis says, “Sometimes we may not be fully aware of all the details – not know all the particular dangers or various pitfalls, nor even the precautions required.  Sometimes it looks like there are no roads in what’s ahead of us.  But we can pray verse 8.”
 
Lord, lead me in the right way………because of all the junk that is pulling me down.  Make your way straight……….through all the questions and the hurt and the loneliness and the darkness.  Step by step, just lead me on the straight path in front of me step by step.  There are times I wish I had all the answers, either for myself or for others, but I don’t.  Yet I do know that I need to take one step…….then another step……….then one more………and all the time, ask God to lead each of my steps in the right way.  I wish life was full of fun, but sadly that isn’t the case.  Yet in the hard times, there are things to learn and growing to be done. 
 
My Guide is totally trustworthy, even when He doesn’t explain why He’s leading me down this particular path.  I know that He loves me and that He’ll take care of me………even though at times I have fear of all the unknown that is around me.  Other times I’m even angry because the path is too difficult and I’m tired.  But still I can pray:  “God, lead me in the right way because there are so many enemies lurking on the other ways.  Make Your way straight before me.”
 
Someday I’ll sit down and rest, looking back on the path through the woods and thinking of all the lessons learned.  And realizing that God did indeed lead me in the right way and the straight way.

 

 

Just like my dad.