Category: Peace

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 Weedy Crepe Myrtles

Gary and I were working in our garden, tending the vegetables and yanking out the unwanted weeds earlier this spring when I looked over and noticed another area that needed tending.  We have several tall Crepe Myrtles that are on the street side of the garden.  It was early spring, and I saw that all of them were crowded with weeds.  The weeds had become so thick that I knew if there was any hope of the Crepe Myrtles growing then I would need to pull those weeds…..sooner rather than later. 
 

After we finished the garden, I grabbed my little shears and I walked over to the row of Crepe Myrtles.  It seemed that there were only weeds growing until I bent over to take a closer look.  That’s when I saw that there were small new shoots of Crepe Myrtle poking through the thick weeds, trying hard to thrive but having to fight the persistent, fast growing weeds that threatened to crowd out their future growth. 

I began to do some snipping here and some cutting there, but I soon realized that I would need to slow down and take my work to a more personal level.  I got on my knees and slowly, carefully pulled more weeds from among the tender shoots of the bush that was trying so hard to grow.  I didn’t want to pull the small green and maroon Crepe Myrtle growth from the ground, so I had to carefully identify each weed and then gently pull it from the ground by its roots.  This was slow going, but it was worth it when I finally stood and looked down to see only pretty new Crepe Myrtle growth, unhindered now by the noxious weeds.

 
Over the next few weeks I was very pleased to see the Crepe Myrtles getting taller and taller, thriving in the rain and the sun.  They could grow now and show their beauty.  And just yesterday, as I pulled weeds from around our vegetables in the garden, I looked over to our little row of Crepe Myrtles and was so happy to see how tall they were.  How healthy they looked!  They will bloom now any day, a little late this year, but we will enjoy their blooms regardless.  I think I’ll enjoy those pretty fuchsia flowers even more this year as I think of how carefully I had to remove what was threatening to kill their beauty.

 
This has been a rather difficult summer for me…..for our family.  My mother passed away on May 4 and we buried her the Friday before Mother’s Day.  Then in June Aaron was in the hospital for a week with pneumonia and other complications, and had a long recovery when he came home.  I got sick a week after he got home, and am still finishing up my third round of antibiotics for that infection.  Last week Andrea, in Houston, got pneumonia in both her lungs. 

Those have been big things, like the big weeds in the Crepe Myrtles.  Sometimes the big things that bring exhaustion and discouragement are easier to deal with because they are so evident.  We expect to be tired and downhearted from issues like death and severe sickness, or prolonged illness.  We can identify the big problem and hopefully understand it as we deal with it, or as we ask others to pray for us over those matters.  It’s out there for all to see, including us, and so we can talk about it and handle it.

But deep in my heart, I’ve had another problem.  It’s not out there for all to see, and is even difficult for me to adequately identify and then deal with as I should.  I call it a spirit of discontentment.  It’s a gnawing unhappiness that I find creeping up in my soul, threatening to choke out my joy and my growth.  People can say, “Oh Patty, you’ve had such a hard time the last few months.  It’s just so much to handle.”  And while some of that may be true, I know better. 

I know better because I know my tendency to become discontent.  I’m like the Psalmist who said, “Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me?”  (Psalm 42:5)  I know myself very well, but I don’t always want to admit the problem.  That’s when I need to get up close and personal, like I did when I was on my knees beside the Crepe Myrtles, pulling out each individual choking weed that was stunting needed growth.  Sometimes it’s painful to identify the issue and to then take care of it in the necessary way, but it’s the only avenue to becoming content and peaceful once more.

My discontentment begins when I take my eyes off of God and His sovereignty in my life.  It’s when I allow myself the “luxury” of a wandering thought life.  What if I had this?  What if life was like that?  Why don’t I do such and such?  Why am I a failure?  If only I did this or had that or accomplished something, then I would be happy.  And as a woman, especially, that ugly comparing game.  How often we do that, whether it’s about our house or our figure or our work or our children or our husbands…..

It’s all so defeating.  And the bottom line with me, the very damaging weed that I need to get rid of the most, is an attitude of unthankfulness.  Paul tells us to be thankful in everything.  That means EVERY THING!  Every situation, every day, every person in our life, every moment, can and should prompt us to be thankful.  Even when we don’t feel like being thankful, there is always a reason for which to give thanks.  We may have to look hard, but it’s a command to be thankful.  Even if I can’t find a reason, I am still to be thankful to God for what He has allowed.  For me, a thankful heart is like pulling out many weeds that are choking me.  A thankful word on my lips and a thankful thought in my brain often takes a very conscious effort, but it does so much to sweep away that discontentment that makes me so down and miserable.

After the Psalmist asked the question about his turmoil in Psalm 42:5, he finished by saying, “Hope in God!  For I shall again praise Him, my salvation and my God.”  Sounds simple, but we know it isn’t always so.  Down on my knees I will go again and again, I am sure, to weed out the attitudes that are causing my discontent.  Remembering to hope in God and not in my surroundings.  And then knowing that I SHALL again praise Him, even if it’s while I’m on my knees doing that weeding and I don’t really feel like praising.  But praise I should, for He is my salvation and He is my God.  What a gift!  There it is.  Something for which to be thankful!

I want to be growing into the beauty that God has for me, like my Crepe Myrtles are now growing.  But I know it takes effort on my part to be obedient to what God tells me to do…..to be on my knees pulling out those weeds that are trying to destroy my joy.   

Oh, there’s more to that verse.  More to help me when I mess up.  “My soul is cast down within me; therefore I remember You from the land of Jordan and of Hermon, from Mt. Mizar.”

In other words, when I am cast down again….and I will be…..then I can remember the God who has strengthened and enabled me in the past.  He is still here in my present situation, whatever it may be. 

Weeds always grow, but God is always faithful, too.  And for that I am…..very thankful!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In The Blink of An Eye

I’m thinking of my dad today for some very special reasons.  It’s been 6 ½ years since he went to heaven after fighting cancer for 8 years.  Dad was the one of the godliest men I have ever known.  He was so kind, selfless, and loving.  He was firm in his faith, never wavering through all the ups and downs of life, including his two bouts with cancer which finally took his life.  Yet despite his strong faith and his deep trust in the Lord, Dad seemed to have a great fear of death. 

None of us looks forward to dying, so on many levels we could understand his dread.  As he weakened and the end was coming nearer, he still seemed to struggle more and more with his uncertainties.  Finally one evening my brother John spent some time alone with Dad, talking to Dad about what was on his heart.  It was during this conversation that John was able to gently lead Dad to really express his concerns about dying.  One of Dad’s biggest issues was that he wondered what he would say to Jesus when he first saw Him.  We all just smiled and shook our heads when we heard that.  There he was again, not worried about his own pain but instead concerned about what he would say to his Lord.  And how like Dad that was!  He was always the ultimate planner and organizer, so for him to face this uncertain encounter with no plan or idea of what it would be like was very hard for him to handle.  Plus it very much showed his humility as he felt completely unworthy to stand before Jesus. 

Something else that was heavy on my Dad’s heart was the fact that he would be leaving my mother.  They had been inseparable during the 22 years of retirement they had enjoyed together.  Then when dad was put in a hospital bed, Mom slept in their bed right beside him and they held hands through the rails.  Dad knew that Mom was really showing the signs of Alzheimer’s in ways that we hadn’t seen.  He kept trying to find ways to tell us about it without Mom hearing him because he was so worried about what she would do when he was gone, and he wouldn’t be there to help her.  Part of his letting go was hearing our words of assurance that Mom would be cared for and that he didn’t need to worry about her.

But it wasn’t just that Dad was burdened about leaving Mom alone.  It was also that he was very concerned, almost fearful, of him being without her in heaven.  He was so close to her, so dependent on her in many ways, that the thought of being without her……even in heaven…..was nearly unbearable to him.  So on the night that John talked to Dad, he told Dad to remember that God said a thousand years to Him is but a day.  John said, “Dad, I really believe that when you go to heaven it’s going to be like you blink a couple times and then Mom will be right there with you.”

I don’t know that anything comforted Dad more than those words and that thought.  Later that night, as Mom and I sat with him in their family room, he very softly and slowly shared that thought with us…..and he sweetly smiled as he said it.  His soft, gentle smile….full of the hope that the separation from his Beth wouldn’t be so long after all.  We all know it was that night when Dad felt released to go on to heaven.  He knew that everything would be all right, and that Mom would join him in the blink of an eye.  Several days later he left this earth for heaven.

I’m thinking of my Dad today, and definitely my mom, for another very special reason.  Today my mother also left this earth for heaven.  She and Dad are finally together, whole and healthy at last!  I can’t imagine the joy they’re both experiencing right now to be with Jesus, and to be together for eternity.  Jan told me that Mom opened her eyes, eyes that had been shut for days.  It was as if she saw something.  Then she closed her mouth, closed her eyes, and was gone.  Did she see heaven?  Did she see Dad, grinning from ear to ear?  Did she see her Savior?  What precious and awesome thoughts those are!   

So while we cry at having to say goodbye to our last parent, we can’t help but smile and be so happy for her and for Dad.  Oh my goodness, I would love to have seen that reunion!  Someday we’ll join them there, and we’ll have so much joy and so much fun.  But until then, while we will sometimes weep and we will often miss them both, we can smile at God’s sweet goodness and rejoice over the certain hope we have of life together in heaven.  
 

Hey Mom, you and Dad have a great time up there! 

When we all get there, I do hope the Lord lets us sing “Oh, It Rained, Rained, Rained” again, just to torment dad. 

We’ll all see you in a couple blinks of an eye.    

Because He Lives

While enjoying a dynamic Easter service this morning, I was struck with the words from the familiar song, Because He Lives.  This old song by Bill and Gloria Gaither, written in 1970, can be sung by memory for most of us.  As I joined the congregation in singing the words to the second verse, my mind thought of Aaron.  It struck me forcefully and yet sweetly how much these words give me comfort concerning Aaron, in a way I hadn’t really contemplated this deeply before.  The reality of what a living Savior means to us as we deal with Aaron’s future and the seriousness of his seizures washed over me with great peace and hope. 

 

How sweet to hold a newborn baby,

Aaron, soon after birth
 

And feel the pride and joy he gives;

Aaron
 

But greater still, the calm assurance,

Aaron – Video EEG
 

This child can face uncertain days because He lives.

Seizure day
 

Because He lives, I can face tomorrow;

 

Because He lives, all fear is gone;

Seizure day
 

Because I know He holds the future.

Newborn Aaron
 

And life is worth the living just because He lives!  (Bill and Gloria Gaither)

 

No matter what each of us is facing, we can face it with the calm assurance that Jesus lives, and in Him we will have all we need to face whatever the future holds

Shaky, But Not Shaken

Yesterday Aaron rushed in the house when he came home from his day group.  He had a huge smile on his face, but he had something else, too.  He was wearing bright yellow shades, as he calls them, and he was quite happy with his new look.  His huge smile was as bright as those sunglasses that Bryan had bought him that afternoon.  He let me take a picture to send to Andrea, Andrew, and Megan, and he was happy with their responses. 
 

Now today we’ve gone from that happy scene, to this:

 
Most of you know what this picture means.  Seizures.  How quickly things can change.  Poor guy!  Such awful seizures…….and all the awful side effects and results that go along with them are what he’s facing today.  Gary knew before bed last night that it would be a seizure night for Aaron, but I wasn’t so sure.  Well, he was right so here we are again as I listen to Aaron breathing deeply while he sleeps on the couch, his fourth seizure over as I hope there are no more.

It’s a beautiful spring morning here.  I’ve opened some windows, enjoying both the gentle breezes and the sweet sounds of birds outside.  In our front yard, just off the front porch, we have a large Golden Rain tree.  I noticed the other day, after some stout winds, that we had some small twigs scattered around the yard under the tree.  Nature had once again done her pruning work on our tree.  At other times, during strong storms, we have had very large branches scattered over our yard.  I was thankful that this wind only brought down small twigs that I will rake and throw away. 
 



















Yesterday morning, as I finished reading Psalm 21, I was struck with verse 7.  David wrote, “For the king trusts in the Lord, and through the lovingkindness of the Most High he will not be shaken.”  Pondering that verse, my mind went to our Golden Rain tree.  That tree has been shaky, many times, as it’s buffeted in the Kansas winds.  Yet while it’s been shaky over and over again, it is not shaken.  That tree still stands tall and strong, minus some branches and many twigs, but not destroyed. 
 

Shaky sometimes, but not shaken.

I find myself there in life, over and over again just like our tree.  I’m especially thinking of that fact today as Aaron lays nearby, recovering from his latest seizures.  Things sure do get shaky sometimes in life.  I’m tossed around by the winds that come my way…..that come to all of us at one time or another…..or multiple times.  I know that God can use those winds to prune me, to take out of my life attitudes that I don’t need, and to shape me to love Him and serve Him more.  God’s pruning occurs best in the shaky times.

However, I’m not shaken.  That’s because I, like King David, have trusted the Lord.  I realize that through God’s lovingkindness……there’s that word “hesed” again……I will not be shaken.  God’s love is a covenant love, never ending and never wavering toward me, His child.  The Hebrew word for “shaken” here means to go off course or to waver.  That’s what I never need to do because I am wrapped in the unconditional love of God.  I know that He does what is best, always, even when I don’t understand it. 

I may look at life through tears.  I may look around me and see the tossed about twigs that come from going through the shaky times.  But I also know that because of God’s faithful, enduring love…..because He is sovereign and never makes mistakes……that I can still be found standing strong, unshaken.  Just like our tall, beautiful Golden Rain tree. 

Shaky, but unshaken as I watch Aaron sleep this morning.  I know that Aaron is in God’s loving hands as well.

Tomorrow?  Tomorrow will be a day for wearing bright yellow shades again. 

 

 

The Back Burner

Gary and I live in a house that was built in the 70’s.  We’ve done some updating throughout the house, but there’s still a lot we need to do.  In our kitchen, we have one remaining relic from the 70’s – our JennAir stovetop.  I’m sure that in its day, that stovetop was very current and perhaps rather expensive.  But those days are long gone, and now our JennAir is definitely past showing its age. 

Yet it still works just fine.  Well, except for the left back burner.  That burner died last year.  Gary worked and worked on it, to no avail.   So off we went to a reputable appliance dealer last year to look at other stovetops.  We had a contractor that they recommended come to our house to give us an estimate of what it would cost for a new stovetop to be inserted along with an exhaust system, and some new countertops while we were at it. 

As we tried to make our decision, we had some unexpected financial expense occur, so we put our possible kitchen plans on hold.  I’ve actually managed just fine as I’ve cooked with the loss of a burner….a large burner, to boot.  Even the extra Thanksgiving and Christmas cooking wasn’t a problem.  Yes, there are times I’ve missed that broken back burner but I’m very thankful for the one that does work.

 
 
I’m thinking of those stovetop burners today because this morning I read Psalm 13.  No, David wasn’t talking about JennAir stovetops, but in a sense he was talking about a saying we often hear about back burners.  We have a saying about something we will deal with later, or something that is put out of our mind for awhile.  We say we have, or we will, put that on the back burner.

But have you ever felt like YOU are what’s on the back burner?  Do you ever feel like your life has been derailed by events you can’t control, and that things are at a standstill?  Do you question why things have turned out this way, and why God seems to be either silent or not changing things the way you want?

If anyone had a reason to feel like he was on the back burner of life, David did.  He played music for King Saul, was beloved by the people, a champion in battle, and was to be the next King of Israel.  But David ended up running for his life from the murderous King Saul.  David slept in caves as he hid in the mountains with his rag-tag group of followers.  There seemed no end in sight for him…..no answers to his questions or his prayers.

“How long, O Lord?  Will you forget me forever?” David asked God in Psalm 13.  “How long will you hide your face from me?”

Then David does what he’s always done….he prays.  He prays even though he’s prayed many times before, and still seems to receive no answer.  I’ve been there.  Have you?  “You pray and pray and God does not pay attention; He hides His face, you say; you plead and cry and there is no relief.  So what do you do?  You go right on praying, of course!  To Whom?  To the God Who has not heard.  Is there any other?  This is lousy logic but excellent faith.”  (Dale Ralph Davis)

Sometimes all we have when we’re on that back burner of life is faith, even when we don’t feel like God hears us.  We know in our head that He hears, but we don’t see it and we don’t feel it.  After all, didn’t the writer of Hebrews say that “Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen?” 

David’s assurance in his life, as he sat on that back burner, began as he said in Psalm 13:5, “But I have trusted in your lovingkindness.”  That word is the Hebrew word, “hesed.”  It’s love that refuses to let us go.  So no matter where we are, and no matter what we’re going through, as God’s children we can count on His love that keeps on keeping us, never letting go of us. 

What’s your back burner today?  Is it a chronic health condition that has you sidelined?  Do you have a difficult marriage?  Are you lonely and forgotten?  Have your children disappointed you deeply?  Have others been given the jobs or ministries that you used to do?  Is age catching up with you? 

Whatever your back burner experience is…..whatever is making you feel trapped or useless…..whatever is making you question God…..don’t allow this time to be wasted.   Don’t be like my left back burner, cold and dead.  Be like the other back burner, working away back there.  Keep praying, even if you feel like David and wonder if God is hiding His face from you.  Know that God loves you with a firm love that won’t let go. 

And know that being on that back burner doesn’t mean you’re abandoned.  It means that God has set you there for a time and for a purpose.  And during that back burner time, be working in whatever way you can for God.  Be like David, who wrote some of his most profound Psalms during his time on the back burner. 

Just see what God can do through you and with you during your time on the back burner of life.  God can cook up something amazing on those back burners!     

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. 

 

 

Lessons From the Rooted Redbud

We have three Redbud trees out in our back yard, standing alone in a little row.  Every spring they bloom beautifully and give us a lot of joy as we look at them from the house.  However, we began to notice over the past couple years that they were struggling.  They just weren’t as vibrant and full, especially the tree in the middle.  Finally, last year, we had to cut down that middle tree.   We felt it was just too far gone to have any hope of survival.

Weeks went by, and one day as I stood at our kitchen window, I noticed something between the two remaining Redbuds.  It looked like a clump of some sort.  Was it a pile of dead grass left from Gary’s mowing?  I soon forgot about it, but once again several days later I noticed it in the distance.   This time my curiosity got the best of me, so I walked down to the two trees to investigate.  I was a little surprised to see some small twigs poking out of the ground, complete with little leaves on them.  Could it be the Redbud still growing? 

Of course, I shouldn’t have been so surprised.  The following few weeks proved my guess to be true.  The chopped down Redbud was indeed growing again, and why shouldn’t it?  The Redbud roots were still in the ground, undamaged and alive.  Those roots were doing what Redbud roots do.  They were growing a new little tree, or at least the beginnings of a new tree.  So there between the two tall Redbuds stood this living, growing small tree.  It wasn’t showy…..it wasn’t big…..it was hardly noticeable…..but it was growing faithfully.

A couple weeks ago I was reading Daniel 6, the story of Daniel in the lion’s den.  Yet what captured my attention this time, more than the den of lions, was what brought Daniel to this point in his life.  Daniel had shown maturity and faithfulness over the years as he was held captive in Babylon.  There he was, along with his friends……young Jewish men in the middle of their enemies.  They continually obeyed God while living in very difficult circumstances, all the while being mature and respectful.  God blessed them for their faithfulness.  He gave them protection and He gave them responsible jobs within the Babylonian government.

Darius decided to appoint 120 assistants that would be in charge of his kingdom.  He appointed three commissioners to be in charge of the 120 assistants.  Daniel was one of those three commissioners.  As time went on, Daniel distinguished himself so much among the other commissioners and the assistants that Darius planned to appoint him over the entire kingdom.  This made the other commissioners and the assistants very angry.  They were jealous of Daniel, and so they decided to plot against Daniel……to find some corruption in him concerning his government job, and then to use that as grounds for expulsion.  However, they could find no grounds of accusation, so they went to Plan B.

Plan B was to devise a plot of some sort concerning Daniel’s religion that would at last give them grounds to be rid of Daniel.   They approached Darius with praise as they stroked his ego, telling him how almighty he was.  In fact, they managed to talk Darius into believing that he was so majestic that he should build an image of himself, and then enforce a law that everyone must bow to his image and pray to him for thirty days.  If anyone prayed to any other god during this thirty day period, then they would be cast into the den of lions.  Darius, full of himself, signed this law…..a law of the Medes and Persians that could not be revoked. 

Now Daniel knew about this law, of course.  After all, he was one of the three highest ranking rulers in the land.  So what did Daniel do?  We’re not told that he went into a rage, that he insisted on seeing the king, or that he stormed into the next commissioner meeting and demanded to know why he wasn’t involved in the planning of a new law.  Nope.  Instead, when Daniel knew that the document was signed, he just quietly went home.  Daniel 6:10 tells us what happened:  “…..he entered his house (now in his roof chamber he had windows open toward Jerusalem); and he continued kneeling on his knees three times a day, praying and giving thanks before his God, as he had been doing previously.”

In other words, Daniel just kept being faithful.  He continued to obey God.  He continued to grow.  He knelt as he always did, in front of his open window for all to see, including the hateful plotters.  And his conniving fellow workers came by agreement, we’re told – and just as they planned, they found Daniel praying before his God.  I’m sure they were beside themselves with satisfaction as they presented their evidence to Darius……evidence that Darius’ favorite was a law-breaker……along with the reminder of the new law, the one that couldn’t be revoked.  Darius was in a pickle, and soon Daniel was in the lion’s den. 

Just before Darius tossed Daniel to the lions, he said a most amazing thing.  Darius said to Daniel, “Your God whom you constantly serve will Himself deliver you.”  And we know the rest of the story, how God did just that.  He stopped the mouths of the lions, and Daniel was not the main course that night.  But what I noticed the most on my recent reading of this ageless story was the fact that Daniel was just quietly faithful.  He CONTINUED kneeling three times a day to pray, as he had always done.  Even Darius noticed as he said, “Your God whom you CONSTANTLY serve.”

You and I live in some pretty stressful times…..times that are particularly stressful for followers of Christ.  Our culture and our politics are full of craziness right now.  I’ve never talked to so many who are feeling burdened and even very worried about the future.  God’s Word is being rewritten by those who want it to say whatever would support their lifestyle.  Legislation is being enacted in order to legally defend their beliefs.  Christians are mocked, hated, ridiculed, and even arrested.  And though these times were prophesied and we have known that someday they would come, many of us find ourselves awake at night, wondering how bad it’s going to get. 

So I think of our little Redbud and I see a lesson.  I see faithfulness to grow….to grow from the roots that are deeply planted.  Just to grow, surrounded by trees much larger than it is.  To grow like Daniel, faithfully serving God in the midst of extremely difficult circumstances.  Daniel knew what he faced.  Lions…..very hungry lions!  Yet he just quietly and constantly obeyed God by praying as he always prayed, and trusting God to take care of him. 

So I want to say to all of us who are walking the narrow way, following God in this world where to be narrow is considered an insult, to just be faithful in the ways that you have always been faithful.  Be like Daniel.  CONTINUE to obey God, and CONSTANTLY serve Him, even if there might be some lions in our future.  Don’t bow to the pressure of this culture and to the pressure of large issues that we face.  Instead, let’s bow our knees to the one and only God in Whom we need to be deeply rooted.

The same God Daniel served is here for you and for me today.  And we do know the end of the story, don’t we? 

 

 

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.

 

 

 

 

 

Peace Among the Bumps

Today was the day for Aaron’s scheduled MRI, a test being done because of a change in his seizures and the additional worry of an annoying Parkinson’s-like tremor in his right hand.  Aaron, thankfully, has never minded medical tests or doctor visits of any kind, so today he woke up happy and ready to go to his appointment.  Of course, we all know that these appointments are just a side trip to Aaron.  The real purpose that he is going, in his mind, is our restaurant of choice for lunch, and the trip to Wal-Mart or some other fun store that also awaits.  Therefore, on this day, his brain MRI was a bump in the road on his way to his true destination.

He came in my bathroom to check on my hair and make-up progress.  He had showered, dressed, and enjoyed his coffee.  He knew that we would leave around 10:00, so he was trying to busy himself with a movie or a game in his room……until he remembered that Mom sometimes needs hurrying, no matter how many times she says that she does NOT need another hurry-up reminder.

As he stood there watching my progress…..or lack thereof, in his opinion……I told him that if it worked out, we would get his hair cut on the way to his MRI.  IF it worked out, I repeated…..and then I progressed through the usual disclaimer list.  IF I could get ready in time (which he seriously doubted)…..IF Aaron was ready (and he let me know that he was!)…….IF Great Clips wasn’t crowded. 

“I know, I know,” he exclaimed as he left the bathroom.  But in no time at all he was back again….standing there staring at me as I fixed my face, as if his staring could or would hurry me forward. 

Finally, as he turned to walk away, he said, “Tell me when you’re ready…..are you about ready?”  He barely took a breath between the statement and the question.  I laughed and told him, “NO!  I am NOT about ready!”…..and he knew it was time to leave Mom to her face, all by herself.

Finally, I WAS ready and so out the door we went.  I had checked Aaron in online and when we got there, he was taken right away to a booth.  Most of the girls there know Aaron by now.  He’s pretty unforgettable after one exposure, trust me.  As he sat down, he immediately launched into what movie he was currently watching.  Godzilla!!  Loud talk ensued about giant lizards and triceratops and saving the world and wanting to know if she had watched the new Godzilla yet.

 
She asked Aaron if he was ready for Christmas and he loudly replied, “MOM?  Are we?”  And I said we were close.  Then he told her that his brother and sister were coming over for Christmas.  She asked if they live far away, and he said that his sister lives in Texas and…..”MOM?  Where does Andrew live?”  So I answered, and was aware that everyone in Great Clips was learning a lot about us.  She asked him if his hair looked the way he wanted it.  “MOM?  Does it?”  Oh dear.

And then came her innocent question.  “So Aaron, what are you doing when you leave here?”

And very matter-of-factly he answered her.  “I’m going to the hospital to get an MRI.”

The words seemed to hang thick in the air.  He wasn’t talking Godzilla, or eating out, or shopping, or Christmas at that point.  I wondered if she was sorry she had asked him this question, but how could she have known?  And good old Aaron wasn’t the least bit fazed by his answer.  He told her he was getting an MRI as casually as he had told her that he was watching Godzilla. 

So I tried to not let my thoughts faze me, either.  My thoughts were how normal Aaron made it sound that he was going to the hospital for an MRI…..how casual he seemed about it…..because he really is casual about it.  He’s not worried or alarmed at all.  He’s not sad or embarrassed.  And I know I must not be either…..for his sake as well as my own.

Yes, I sat there wishing that Aaron could have answered her question on this day with nothing more than something normal and fun to be doing after his hair cut.  I’m going to a movie……or I’m going Christmas shopping……or I’m going out with my friends.  Yes, I was going to make sure that Aaron had some fun to look forward to today.  But first….the MRI.

The hair dresser told Aaron she hoped it went well, and as we checked out I made a comment about how the doctor was looking to see if Aaron had a brain.  Aaron laughed and everyone laughed, and we walked out the door with Aaron off on his next subject.

But on the drive to the hospital, my thoughts were back there at Great Clips and my heart was a little heavy.  Then there it was……playing on our Christmas CD…..Amy Grant singing “Silent Night.”  The song that somehow always reminds me of my dad and that always tugs at my heart was not the song I was sure I wanted to hear right then.  I blinked back tears.

            Silent Night, Holy Night

            All is calm, all is bright…..

Sometimes all is not calm.  Sometimes all is not bright. 

            Round yon virgin, mother and child.

            Holy infant so tender and mild……

But I knew then, as I have been greatly reminded over the past few days, that the coming of this holy infant Jesus makes everything in my heart calm and bright.  His coming makes everything right.  Not easy, but right and well.  Calm and bright, because of the hope that He gives.

            Sleep in heavenly peace,

            Sleep in heavenly peace.

Peace that only Jesus can give, because He did come on that silent and holy night long ago. 

 
And there on busy Kellogg Drive with traffic on both sides and Aaron chattering away happily beside me, I was seriously filled with peace.  We still had the MRI ahead; Aaron still has his special issues; life may still seem unfair to some.  But there is peace, more than I have sensed in a long time. 

I see, more than I believe I ever have, what the coming of Jesus means to me personally and to this world.  Peace in the midst of fear…..in the midst of pain…..in the midst of frustration.  Peace that’s unexplainable except as I look at that little infant Jesus. 

“Come on, Aaron!” I said as we got out of the car in the hospital parking lot.  Let’s get this bump-in-the-road over with and go have some real fun!