Category: Trials

From God’s Heart to My Lips

Was it just last weekend that I flew home from a wonderful vacation week in Alabama?  It seems much longer than a week.  There are reasons for that.  But first, I did enjoy a great time of relaxing with my dear friend Glenda in her beautiful home.  Bruce and Glenda are friends of ours from way back.  Gary and I met them at Gary’s first assignment following his graduation from flight school in 1983.  We did lots of life together in Colorado Springs while stationed at Fort Carson, and then later as we both lived in Germany.  It had been 23 years since we last saw each other.  Bruce and Glenda very kindly flew me to Alabama for several days of rest and relaxation.  We took up right where we left off, too, not missing a beat.  Glenda and I talked a blue streak last week, and I think we pretty well caught up on everything.  It was really a refreshing time for me.

In the airports and on the planes, I finally finished reading Ann Voskamp’s book, One Thousand Gifts.  What a challenging book this has been for me!  Challenging me to be thankful….grateful…..in all situations.  Our friends, Kurt and Jill Grier, gave me this book while Aaron was in the hospital last June.  What a perfect setting for this insightful book to be given! 

So flying home last Saturday, I finally finished this book.  At the very end, Ann wrote this:  “Every breath’s a battle between grudgery and gratitude and we must keep thanks on the lips so we can sip from the holy grail of joy.”  There is a reason that God let me read that line on that day…..the day I was flying home…..to life at our house.

I heard him before I saw him.  I was near the escalator in our beautiful new Eisenhower Airport here in Wichita.  Home at last.  I was focused on that down escalator when I heard, “MOM!!!” 

I looked over to my left, and there was Aaron.  He had just bounded off of the comfy chair where he was sitting near Gary as they waited for me to round the corner.  How appropriate that the very first word I heard when I reached home was that word that Aaron says the most.  Mom!

His smile was huge as he came toward me, rubbing his hands together in great delight.  Delight to see me?  Yes, in his own way.  But more delight, I believe, in the fact that he could finally tell me in person what he was anxiously waiting to say.  “MOM!!!  I finished watching…..”  And he was off, words tumbling over each other as he told me about the latest movie he had just completed.  Aliens and battles and robots and laser vision…..all of it, coming out in a loud rush. 

He had no interest in my trip home.  He only cared that I WAS home.  He did give me a hug as I reached out to him, but he didn’t stop talking.  Gary and I hugged and kissed to our typical background music of Aaron’s constant talking.  We’ve learned to jump in quickly between his words in order to say our own to each other. 

There is no slow re-entry into life with Aaron.  He blows in with no interruptions allowed, words and hands flying, expecting us to show great interest.  And we opened the door at our house to our large dog, to Aaron following and talking, to trick-or-treaters, to the time change, and to me coming down with a stomach bug that evening.  Interesting.  What was that quote I had just read?

It gets better.  And let me again quote dear Alice Zwemke:  “I’m not complaining.  I’m just reporting.”  This week….

On Monday I took Aaron to the dentist for a cleaning.  A small cavity was found.  On Tuesday, I took him back to the dentist for a filling.  He was a little sullen and quiet (thankful for the quiet part!) on Monday, but on Tuesday he was full of smiles and talk.  He even carried in his Happy Spider from Hawaii that Glenda had sent him, and kept Happy Spider on his lap while he got his tooth repaired. 

 
By that evening, Aaron still had a crooked smile from his tooth procedure.  The dentist said not to worry, and sure enough by that night he had returned to normal.  So on Wednesday he was able to finally return to Paradigm, his day group, even though he complained of not feeling well.  That afternoon he had a big seizure there, so I went to pick him up, carrying clean clothes since he was incontinent during this seizure.  He had another seizure shortly after going to bed that night. 

On Thursday, he woke up with my stomach virus that I was kind enough to share.  Between bathroom visits, he slept nearly all day.  No Paradigm.

Yesterday, Friday, he still wasn’t feeling great so he stayed home again.  No Paradigm.  By the evening he was more himself, so I foolishly let him enjoy his pizza night.  I felt sorry for him because we had planned to have a pizza party at one of Paradigm’s residential homes with several of his friends on Friday, and we had to cancel it.  It was an early birthday celebration for him.  So pizza it was, at home……which he later threw up as he sat in his chair in the family room.  Poor Aaron.

And I now have a chest cold.

So here we are.  Life at its best, right?  That quote again….we must keep thanks on the lips.  I’ve been practicing that attitude this week as best I can, failing at times but also so aware of the power of gratitude that is so dear to God’s heart.  From God’s heart to my lips.

I’m thankful for our washing machine and our dryer; for bleach; for hot water; for Aaron’s excellent waterproof mattress pad; for Gary’s hard work in providing for us so that I don’t have to work; for our gorgeous fall colors to enjoy as I look out the windows or drive around town; for our large kitchen trash can last night during the throwing up episode; for not being in the hospital like some I know and love; for all of this happening while I am home and not out of town; for God’s forgiveness when I fail; for the love of friends and family…..and for so much more.

For Aaron, who just rolls with the flow….which is a pretty yucky saying right now, actually.  Sorry.  Anyway, he handles things better than most.  He’s more concerned with his routine than with his disappointments.  I’m carrying the disappointments.  He carries the changes to his routine.

“Mom, I’m going to bed now,” he said on Wednesday night.  “I’m not going to bed at 10:00.”  It was 8:23 when he laid down and I turned off his light.  But soon I saw the light from under his bedroom door.  I asked if he was ok.  He told me that he was fine…..that he was just writing down what time he went to bed in his log book.  Well, of course.

Aaron showers at 8:00 or a little later every night. He showered in the late afternoon on Thursday.  “Mom?” he asked.  “Because I just showered, does that mean I have to shower by 8:00 tonight?” 

Wheel of Fortune is still being turned on at 6:28, not 6:27, though….so that’s a good thing.  And Mom must be reminded to wait on the coffee maker to perk more coffee in order to fill that third cup before carrying them up to Aaron’s room.  One doesn’t take TWO cups of coffee to Aaron’s room.  It must be THREE cups, for crying out loud. 

Sometimes Aaron weighs us down on many levels.  But I’m thankful for the blessings that are many, the smiles that are frequent, and the laughter that comes unexpectedly. 

“Mom!!” he said the other morning as he stared down into his empty coffee cup.  “Why is there coffee bean powder in my cup?”

See what I mean?

 

 

Lessons From the Battered Pepper Plant

 

Weeks ago, we had a strong storm during the night.  It was a Kansas storm, full of bright lightning, loud thunder, and very strong winds.  When I was able to get out in the garden several days later, I was disappointed to find that my only pepper plant that had done any decent growing was now toppled over.  I stood there staring down at it as it lay on the nearby zucchini, whose leaves had also been tossed around during the same storm.  I stood there, tempted to just uproot the battered pepper plant and be done with it.

 

I bent over and gently lifted it, realizing then that the main stem of the pepper plant was unbroken and was still safely in the soil.  “Why not just leave it and see what it does?” I thought.  And that’s what I did.  I left it to grow if it would, knowing that if I messed with it and tried to bend it back up, I would just break it and kill it for sure.  So I let it remain where it was, bent over and not looking too promising at that point.

 

This past Saturday, I went out to the garden to harvest the last of the zucchini and squash.  They have now fallen prey to heat, lack of rain, and bugs.  Their brown vegetation only served to accentuate what I now found as I stared down at my pepper plant, still bowed down in the dirt.  Though my pepper plant was stooped low to the ground, its leaves were bright and green.  They were quite a contrast to the brown ugliness around them.  And there, under the leaves, were peppers……peppers that hadn’t been there when it first fell to the ground in the storm.  They had grown since the plant was blown over in the storm.  Firm, pretty green peppers that were the fruit of this plant that had been pummeled in the storm, yet still survived.  And not only survived, but was producing fruit there on the ground.

 

I don’t remember a time when I’ve seen so many people suffering in one form or another as I have in recent months.  I routinely communicate with or receive prayer requests from those dealing with serious health issues themselves or with someone they dearly love; others are going through divorce and single parenting; parents are struggling with children who are living apart from the Lord and how they were raised; others are very lonely and are feeling set apart; some are grieving the death of someone they love; and of course, I know many families who are weighted down by the particular challenges of raising a child with special needs.  So many heartaches from so much suffering!  What’s a person to do?  And primarily, what’s a follower of Christ to do?

 

James opened his book of the Bible with this very issue.  He didn’t waste time in laying the subject of suffering out on the table.  “Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials.”  James said what?  Consider it joy when we suffer?  I love that the word “various” here means “multi-colored.”  Doesn’t that describe our life’s struggles so well?  We all encounter many different forms of suffering in our lives on earth…..many multi-colored afflictions.  Sometimes I wish my life was a bland, constant egg shell color myself.  Yet we all know that bland isn’t how our walk on this earth turns out.

 

James goes on to tell his readers why we should consider our trials with joy.  He explains, “Knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance.  And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.”

 

When James talks about testing producing endurance, he uses a Greek word that means to bear up as we abide under difficulties.  Notice the word “under.”  Not to bear up as the trials are removed, or the suffering is lessened, or the answers are made clear.  No, we are to endure UNDER the suffering…..while the suffering is going on in our lives.  Then James says that this endurance will produce maturity and full development…..its perfect and complete result in our lives.

 

Considering suffering to be joyful is not a trait that comes naturally.  How do we do that, anyway?  Like my pepper plant, down in the dirt and buffeted by the storm, we sometimes find ourselves bent over with the storms of life.  Tired, defeated, scared, and just lying in the dirt.  But our roots are in Christ, and it’s from Him that we draw the strength to “consider it all joy.”  We may not feel joyful on many days, but we can in obedience thank God for our trials and for what they are teaching us.  We can say the words even if we don’t feel it in our hearts.  That’s called faith.  Faith that God is indeed working all things out for our good.

 

I saw those green peppers growing on that pepper plant, despite its pitiful condition.  And despite my pain and my doubt, when I trust God with my situation and I praise Him in the storm, it won’t be long before I’ll also see fruit growing.  James talks about some of that fruit as he mentions maturity and development.  He also says that I will lack nothing.  My faith will grow, my thankfulness attitude will mature, my patience will increase, and peace will rule my heart.  Maybe not every second of every day, but for most of the time I’ll see the fruits of being joyful in the bent days of my life…..the hard times…..the days that seem unending.

 

Like the hymn writer said:

My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus’ blood and righteousness.

I dare not trust the sweetest frame, but wholly lean on Jesus’ name.

 

When darkness seems to hide His face, I rest on His unchanging grace.

 

 In every high and stormy gale, my anchor holds within the veil.

 

On Christ the solid rock I stand.  All other ground is sinking sand.  All other ground is sinking sand.

 

So when we are tossed around by all that we meet in this life…..when we see for real that the ground around us is just sinking sand and that nothing in life is constant…..when the winds of deep trials come our way…..let’s consider it joy.  Let’s lean into Jesus even as we lean down with the weight of our circumstances.

 

And just like my bent pepper plant, we can still see that we are alive in Christ and that He has not left us alone.  He is still using us and still producing His fruit in our lives……..fruit which will benefit others, and give us joy and maturity.

 

It’s so good to know that God is in control.  He both sends the wind that sometimes bends me down, and the strength to be joyful as I stay rooted in Him.  May all of us grow fruit for Him and for others to see as we live in the struggles and storms of life.

 

 

 

 

Lessons From the Toad

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

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

 

 

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

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

Bumps In the Road


I don’t know that there is any one routine of Aaron’s that is more important than another, but if I was pressed for an answer I would say that his bed time routine is way up there near the top of his Important Routines List.  And by the way, it would be just like Aaron to keep a list of such things if he thought of it, in yet another notebook for which he would find the perfect spot in his room….and there it would stay, placed exactly so, every single day of his life. 
The strictness of his bed time routine, which includes going to bed at or very near the same time that I go to bed, is the reason I began preparing him for a change early Sunday evening.
 “Aaron,” I began, “I need you to prepare yourself because I may go to bed a little early.  I’m getting a cold and I don’t feel well.” 
I could tell right away that he didn’t like this idea.
“What time?” he asked with a frown on his face.
“I don’t know exactly what time,” I replied.
Aaron thought for a few seconds, pondering this unwelcome change.  Mom might go to bed before I go to bed?  
“Will it be before night?!” he asked with great concern.
I knew he meant before dark.  Would I go to bed before dark?!  How disruptive and awful…..for HIM.  Never mind about my cold or about how I felt.  Aaron is, without doubt, most often about Aaron. 
I assured him that I would not go to bed before night, and he walked away to think on this sudden turn of events.  But as it turned out, I ended up asking Aaron later that evening if he wanted to play a game of SkipBo.  That game took up part of the time before night, so Aaron was saved, and our bed time routine was really no different than any other night. 
During the night some storms moved through our area.  They were pretty rough storms, and we briefly lost power several times.  That meant that Aaron’s clock on his night stand was disrupted and probably flashing, I thought, as I reset the clock on the microwave that morning.  Sure enough, when Aaron walked in the kitchen later, the first words out of his mouth were about his messed up clock. 
“Mom, the clock by my bed shut down, so I can’t write in my book what time I got up.  Can you fix it now?”
Knowing the importance of this part of his morning routine, I followed him upstairs immediately.  He called out the time to me from his satellite clock by his desk as I pushed the buttons on his clock and got the time just right.  He then wrote the correct getting-up time in his notebook, and all was well for the moment.
Aaron dressed and came down to the kitchen again to take his pills.  Soon he was holding an object of great interest to him…..a summer squash from our garden that was very dark, bumpy, and tough.  Any item that is the least bit unusual holds Aaron’s attention, and for the moment this bumpy squash was what Aaron wanted to hold and feel and talk about.  In fact, he carried the squash up to his room and placed it on his chest of drawers.  I was tempted to bring it downstairs right away, but I decided to leave it there for the time being.  What did it hurt?
Aaron had a doctor appointment later that morning.  As we drove across town, he told me about a song from a movie he was watching.  He hummed the song for me to hear and to identify.  Usually I can’t really tell what he is humming, but this time he did a great job and I knew the song….except for the life of me I couldn’t remember the title.  I told Aaron about my Sound Hound app that would let me hum a few bars while it identified the song, so Aaron could hardly wait for me to do just that.  We found an area of the doctor’s waiting room that had no one sitting close, and so with a very excited Aaron sitting beside me, I sat there humming this song into my phone.  It was pretty funny!  And sure enough, Sound Hound told us that the song was “Joyful, Joyful We Adore Thee.”  Aaron bent over in his chair, his hands rubbing together quickly and with great delight, as I wondered how on earth I could forget the title to that song. 
We waited to be called and Aaron, who can hardly keep his doctors straight by name, asked, “Is it gonna be that one who asked me if I use drugs?  That was dumb!”  No amount of explaining will ever change Aaron’s mind that it was very dumb for a doctor to ask him if he uses drugs.  The doctor soon called for Aaron to come, so we both followed him to his office.  He stepped back for us to enter, and he said, “Hi, Aaron!”  To which Aaron replied….with nothing.  Total silence.  I was glad that he smiled with what I hoped was understanding.  This is just our second time to see this doctor, who is supposed to have an understanding of autism.  I hoped that understanding of his was working today.
The doctor began asking questions about how Aaron was doing since the last visit.  How are his seizures?  So we discussed that issue at length.  How are his behaviors?  We talked about that as well.  I was talking and the doctor was listening, when suddenly on my leg came a big WHACK!!
Aaron had soundly hit me on my leg, right in front of the doctor.  And then Aaron immediately said, “Tattle teller!!”
That was what Aaron used to say when he was a kid if someone was telling something they shouldn’t, or something he wished they weren’t.  The doctor’s eyes were staring from over his computer screen as I talked to Aaron.  I knew very well why Aaron whacked my leg.  He was frustrated at being talked about.  He does have feelings.  So I explained why the doctor needed to know these things, and the doctor chimed in as well, and Aaron settled down.  Oh well.  The doctor may as well see Aaron as Aaron is.  And it was probably good for both the doctor and me to be reminded of Aaron’s sensitivities.  
I know that Aaron is facing another sensitive issue today, too.  One of his favorite Paradigm staff has left, and so Aaron’s life there will change a lot.  I know that if one thing in life is certain, it is that life will change.  Easy for me to say……far harder for Aaron to deal with in an appropriate way.  Of all days for Aaron to find this out, too.  Aaron was grouchy this morning about going to his group today.  Three days off sometimes does that to him.  He went willingly after working through it, but gave the van door a little harder shove closed than usual when he got out.  I have no idea how his day has gone or if he knows of his staff that has left, but I’m sure I’ll soon find out when he comes home. 
I thought of all this when I walked upstairs earlier and saw the bright yellow squash sitting in Aaron’s room.  That squash, so full of bumps.  The bumps are what fascinate Aaron.  They are also what make that squash somewhat tough. 
Aaron has plenty of bumps in his life, too.  I’ve seen several of them in the past couple days, much less all the years that he has dealt with so much.  Bumps in the road are a part of life.  Some seem to have more bumps than others, that’s for sure.  Gary and I are sometimes able to ease Aaron over the bumps, like I tried to do concerning the possible change in my bedtime.  Sometimes issues are easily solved, like changing the time on his clock or humming into Sound Hound.   Other matters are deeper, like the one evidenced by the whack on the leg that Aaron gave me.  He didn’t like being discussed, but it’s necessary.  It’s painful for us both, and is a bump that he and I both deal with at nearly every doctor visit.  
This new bump, of one of his favorite people being gone out of his life now, will be a huge new bump for us.  I don’t know how it will affect Aaron.  He may surprise us and do well.  He may have good days and bad days.  But it’s a bump that we will be forced to navigate one way or another.  I’m thankful for the wisdom that God promises to give to those of us that are lacking and that ask Him for it.  I have been asking today, that’s for sure!
Maybe I’ll just leave that bumpy squash in Aaron’s room.  It will remind me every time I see it of this time.  Hopefully I will look at it in the weeks to come and remember how God eased us over yet another bump in this road we travel with Aaron. 

Home From the Hospital

Friday, June 19, marked a full week that Aaron had been in the hospital for low sodium and pneumonia.  He was feeling better that morning.  He still had a wicked cough, but his fever had been gone for over 36 hours and he was generally feeling much better.  In fact, the better he felt the grouchier he became.  As he felt better, he missed home more.  He missed his life and his routine.  He was more alert and aware of how abnormal this hospital life was for him.  So the better that Aaron felt, the harder he made life for those who were caring for him.  All he could talk about that morning was going home.  He didn’t like anything that anyone tried to do for him, including me.  He tolerated his chest X-Ray, his pills, and his other morning interruptions…..barely.

I saw his doctor in the hall and told her that she better put on her very thick skin when she came to see Aaron that morning.  She just laughed, and I told her I wasn’t kidding.  Aaron was grouchy, in all caps.  GROUCHY!!  And wanting one thing…..home!  So later she came in with a huge smile, and of course Aaron told her immediately that he wanted to go home.  She told him that she had good news for him, then, because home is where she said he could go.  Then he smiled along with her, for the first time that morning, and life was good again. 

Of course, when one of the aids came in a few minutes later, Aaron looked at her and said, “I don’t need you now!”  And I made him apologize, even as she just laughed and knew that Aaron was very happy to be leaving.  He just had a very blunt way of letting that fact be known.  The Occupational Therapist came in to give Aaron a shower and try to give him some shower pointers, but he actually just showed her how he showered and didn’t really listen to much of what she said.  Physical Therapy had Aaron walk up and down the stairs one time, which he willingly endured because it was just another block to check before he headed out the door.  

Soon the wheelchair containing happy Aaron was on the elevator, along with our cart full of a week of accumulated “stuff”, and before long we were in the van, waving goodbye to the nurses and driving away.  Going home at last!  But a stop at McDonalds was first as Aaron asked for a burger and fries on the way home.  We picked up lunch, and headed home to eat and to settle in to the life that Aaron had missed.  

Aaron was very, very weak.  He needed lots of help with walking, with stairs, and with the bathroom.  He was home, but life wasn’t going to be normal for some time.  He finally ate, and slowly we made it upstairs to his room.  He was so happy to be there at last.  He wanted to watch his new Tremors movie for real, on his DVD player instead of the portable player.  So he sat down in his chair, and he got his things around him fixed just right.  His clock next to his desk had to be positioned just so.  The items that he keeps near him on his bed were placed just right, with his stack of books on the corner of the bed.  On top of those was his notebook in which he kept his record of what movie chapter he was watching.  His pen was placed precisely on top of the notebook.  His back scratcher was set beside that pile of books.  His Gecko from Glenda was settled in front of his clock.  He looked around and checked to see that things were exactly as he wanted them as I stood behind him silently watching, and silently marveling at his precision with every item.

Then he saw a DVD that needed to be put on his shelf of DVDs.  He asked if I would put it there, so I leaned over and placed it at the end of the row.  He just stared at it, and I waited.  Nope.  It wasn’t right.  So I repositioned it several times before finally finding that he wanted it leaning a little at the top, and he wanted his special large rock to be placed near it so it wouldn’t slide out of place.  There!  It was finally according to Aaron’s specifications, and I was free to leave while he watched his DVD, content that all his things were in their perfect place as they should be.  At home.  Where he should be, and where he was so happy that at last he was there. 

Aaron spent much of that first weekend sleeping in his chair in the family room, his animal print blanket stretched over him.  He coughed a lot, and he tried to walk by himself, but it was very slow going.  He needed lots of help with everything.  Coming home was wonderful, but it didn’t mean that Aaron was well and strong right away.  For that reason, he was pretty disappointed.  He loved being home, but he wanted his old body back as much as he wanted his old life back.  Both would take awhile to return to normal, and despite our reminders and assurances, Aaron had some frustrations. 

 
“I’m just so tired of myself!” he blurted out on Saturday, overcome with frustration at his weak body.  That made us so sad, but we could only offer encouragement that every day would be better.  And it was.  He enjoyed visits from friends, including Rosa and her mother, Louise…..complete with pizza and balloons!  He enjoyed his room and his family room chair, watching Wheel of Fortune, and being with Jackson, and just everything.  And each day was better than the one before.  Each outing found him getting a little stronger, his stamina increasing slowly but surely.  After several days, he and I played Skip-Bo, with Aaron checking his watch to keep track of time, just like always.
 

Perhaps what he loved the very most, and what he had missed the very most while in the hospital, was his own comfy bed.  The first night back at home, when it was time for bed, I was helping him get everything ready.  Every blanket was perfectly placed, every wrinkle straightened out, the pillow put just in the right place, and then the sheets were pulled back so that he could place his snake and his skunk under the covers.  But now he had decided to add a new member to the mix.  He wanted to add the soft green frog that Andrea had sent him while he was still in the hospital.  So he rearranged Mr. Snake and Skunk in order to make room for Mr. Frog, stood back to observe and to rearrange, and finally he was satisfied. 

 
He climbed in his bed, after writing his “Time to Bed” in his log book, and I pulled his covers up around his face.  Then he smiled the sweetest smile in the world as he moved his legs back and forth in his wonderful bed that wasn’t a hospital bed.  He was the picture of utter contentment.  He pulled his arms from under the covers and held them up to me, so I leaned down and gave him a goodnight hug.

“Good night, Aaron,” I said as I hugged him.  I arranged the covers up around his face again, and there was that smile.  He looked at me for a few seconds.

“Mom?” he asked.  “Do you want to say good night twice?”

What a precious moment!  Of course I said yes, and so out of the covers came his outstretched arms.  I leaned down to hug him one more time, thankful that our Aaron was home in his own bed.  The hospital stay was scary.  His health was uncertain.  The outcome was unknown for days.  I had stretched my arms on this bed days earlier as I asked God to heal him.  Now here Aaron lay, smiling and hugging, wanting to say good night twice.  It was his way of telling me how very happy he was to be home.  I understood and I agreed.

I left Aaron to his dreams.  And I didn’t go to sleep until I thanked God that on this night, I got to say good night to Aaron in his own bed…..twice!

Aaron’s Hospital Stay

Aaron came home from his day group on Thursday, June 11, in his usual way, bounding in the hall door from the garage with talk of what he had done that day at Paradigm.  It was later, as I stood in the kitchen fixing supper and he sat in his family room chair, that I noticed him coughing.  It was just a dry cough, nothing major, but it was persistent.  So I leaned around the corner and asked him if he was all right, and he answered in his usual droll way that he was just fine.  But as we ate supper awhile later, Gary and I noticed that he was very slow.  A couple days earlier, on Tuesday, Aaron had four seizures.  That wasn’t unusual for him, but on Wednesday he was himself again.  To be more lethargic on Thursday was concerning to us. 

During Wheel of Fortune he wasn’t animated or excited at all.  I felt his forehead and noticed how warm he was.  Sure enough, when I took his temperature it was 102.4.  The next morning I called McConnell Air Force Base to make a same day appointment.  Aaron kept sleeping until I finally went in his room and roused him enough to take his temperature again.  It was still 102.4.  He had a very hard time waking up enough to take his morning pills, and then went right back to bed.  As I continued to check on him I became very concerned at how he couldn’t wake up, so I finally made the decision to take him to the ER.  McConnell agreed with me, so I worked to get Aaron awake enough to dress.  I then had him sit on the floor of the hallway upstairs and scoot down the stairs on his bottom.  He would scoot down one stair and fall asleep until I jostled him……then scoot down another stair and fall asleep…..all the way down the stairs. 

We slowly made it to the van, and later at the ER a male nurse helped Aaron out of the van and into a wheel chair.  Still he slept.  We got him on the exam table and he slept again.  Somehow he stood up for a chest X-ray, but he slept through the doctor’s exam, the blood draw, insertion of the IV, and even the catheter.  The doctor found an ear infection, so I thought that Aaron’s body was just fighting hard and the sleeping was his reaction to that.  I felt like we would soon leave with an antibiotic prescription, go home, and get Aaron well. 
 

 
Yet the concern on the doctor’s face as he kept coming in the exam room was raising my own concern as well.  Finally he told me that the blood work had shown Aaron’s sodium to be dangerously low.  It should be at 135-136, but Aaron’s was 121.  Then he said that Aaron would need to be admitted to the hospital to address the sodium issue, and to find out what else was going on with him.  My mind was whirling as I called Gary and as we tried to decide if Aaron would stay at St. Teresa Hospital or go elsewhere, although that decision was made for us by insurance.  We would stay at St. Teresa.  It wasn’t long before we were on an elevator headed up to the small ICU unit, my mind still trying to adjust to all this.  I looked down at my very sick son and wondered about the “what else” that the ER doctor had mentioned.  What else was going on inside his body? 

 
There Aaron lay, all hooked up to monitors and tubes, his body struggling against that unknown something that was making him so sick.  He tried hard to wake up enough to answer nurse’s and doctor’s questions.  He sometimes showed his definite personality, like when the nurse asked him a question about his bowel habits.  He gave her a rather disgusted look and just answered with a “Hhmmpf!”  When Gary was there, and I left later that evening to run home, Aaron asked me to bring him his watch and his glasses.  He didn’t wear his glasses a lot during those first few days, but he put his watch on his arm right away, pushed way up the way he likes it.  It was a piece of normalcy in this crazy place in which he found himself. 

 
Over the weekend, when friends came to visit, Aaron would cry.  He showed emotion that was rare for him.  He told me later that he was sad.  I told him that we understood, but I didn’t tell him about my own sadness.  Or about those icy fingers of fear that were trying to grab at me.  It was not only sadness but fear I was feeling as I watched the blood draws…..the strong antibiotics flowing through the IV into Aaron’s body…..the fevers that sometimes rose to 104.5……the CAT scan…..the X-rays…..the spinal tap……the kidney specialist and the infectious disease doctor…..the testing for West Nile and tick borne disease…..the low sodium issue. 

 
Early on Saturday morning, as I have done many times in the past during stressful times, I asked God to give me a special verse.  I asked Him to speak to me in the way that I needed at this time.  There in that hospital room, with Aaron sleeping nearby, God gave me Ecclesiastes 11:5:  “As you do not know the way the spirit comes to the bones in the womb of a woman with child, so you do not know the work of God who makes everything.”  That was it!  I didn’t know what was going on here with Aaron.  I didn’t know the work of God but I do know God.  I know that He loves us and I know that He has a work that He is accomplishing.  I know that I can TRUST Him, regardless of what else I don’t know. 

It was very hard to watch Aaron suffer.  Hard to see the pain in his face when he coughed….the struggle to deeply breathe and to talk……the pain of needles and tests.  It was easy for me to let fear take over as I helplessly watched our Aaron and wondered still about the “what else” that was so elusive to find in his body.  Soon another principle from scripture came to my heart.  “In everything, give thanks.”  I went home one evening while Gary sat with Aaron, and I knelt by Aaron’s empty bed in his bedroom.  His stuffed snake and skunk were still in the bed where he had left them.  I stretched my arms over his animal print blanket and I asked God to please heal our son.  I told God that I didn’t know about this work that He was doing, but I did trust Him.  And I thanked Him for this time.  That kind of thankfulness takes great trust in the One whom I was thanking, for sure, because I hurt for Aaron so deeply.  But I also know God and I know that He can be trusted.

It was a turning point for me.  My mother heart still hurt deeply all through that week in the hospital.  One night, with eyes closed, Aaron said, “This is not fun.”  There went my tears.  And later, eyes still closed, he said, “I love you, Mom.”  I leaned over his bed and he got as big a hug as I could give him.  But I purposely stood there and voiced thankfulness to God, hard as it was, for this work that He was doing and that I didn’t understand. 

 
Aaron’s chest X-ray finally showed pneumonia in his right lung.  It was determined that he had Aspiration Pneumonia.  Apparently, he aspirated some saliva during his seizures that previous week.  He responded to a new antibiotic, was moved out of ICU to a private room, began walking with the help of physical therapy, and was soon clamoring to come home.  I don’t know who had the bigger smile, Aaron or his doctor, when he was finally told that he could go home.  On Friday, a week after being admitted to the hospital, he was wheeled out to our van and we took off for home…..after picking up his choice of McDonalds for lunch on the way.  He is recovering his strength and his spirit, and some grouchiness, too. 

There is more to write about this experience.  About how Aaron’s autism affected his hospital stay, and about his tender return home to his world and his routine.

We’re so thankful for this outcome, but if it had been different, I pray that we would still be thankful.  Thankful for the work of God who makes everything, even when don’t know or understand His work.  When it’s all said and done, there is no better place to be than in His will as we watch His work and trust in Him. 

 

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!     

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.