Category: Trials

Set Sail!

 

It’s a good thing that I looked in the cabinet this morning, checking on a key ingredient that I needed for my chicken dish that we’ll eat for tonight’s supper.  I thought I had plenty but I didn’t, so I quickly added it to my short grocery list and was able to stop at the store later to pick it up.  Being prepared is important!

 

This small episode fit perfectly with what I read this morning during my quiet time.  I actually learned a new word…..a Greek word.  Well, most Greek words are new to me, but this particular word made a huge impression on me.  I hope it will do the same for you.  The word?

 

Pleroma.

 

Impressed yet?  Hang on.

 

Pleroma was part of the ancient world’s shipping vocabulary.  It has to do with being complete or being full.  Here is what Raymond Brown says about pleroma in his book The Message of Nehemiah:

 

            Pleroma….described the ship’s complement.  Before leaving port the vessel was carefully checked to ensure that there was an adequate crew and that the cargo included sufficient food, drink, medical supplies, spare cloth to replace torn sails, ropes, in fact everything necessary for its journey.  That was the ship’s complement or completeness. 

 

A departing ship today, and especially in ancient times, definitely had to be careful to have all necessary supplies before sailing.  No ship would leave for a journey until it was filled with supplies….filled with all it needed for the time on the open sea.
OK, so why was this word such a blessing to me today?  And why do I pray that it’s a huge blessing to each of you reading this as well?

 

Because pleroma is the word that John uses in John 1:16.  “For of His fullness (pleroma) we have all received, and grace upon grace.”  Again, Raymond Brown says:

 

            John’s Gospel began by assuring its Christian readers that, however great the pressures of life, all their needs would be met out of the abundant completeness and inexhaustible sufficiency of Christ.

 

You see, God doesn’t push His children out on life’s voyage without preparation.  Just like a ship being loaded up in the dock before setting sail, so God loads us up with all that we need for the ride that is ahead of us.  We don’t even know that He’s doing all that work on us most of the time.  All the equipping and the completing comes as we live day by day, getting to know Him better through His Word and through the growth that comes with each new trusting time in our lives.

 

Then the waves come crashing in and the journey is long.  The ocean is big and scary.  Don’t think that when you’re slammed in the face with an unexpected trial, God didn’t know beforehand that it would come.  He knew.  He in His sovereignty ordained and allowed it.  But not before He prepared you for it.  God completed you, and is still completing you, with all that you need for the rough waters all around you.

 

Pleroma!!

 

Grace upon grace.  Unmerited favor from God, over and over again.

 

Blessing upon blessing as we sail through the waters and as we experience God’s complete provision for all we need, before we even knew we needed it.

 

God prepared you, and me, for every single event in our lives before we needed it.  And He then stacks grace upon grace as we live through the tough times…..blessing upon blessing…..growth upon growth.

 

God loves His children.  He’s a good God.  He would never leave us incomplete, lacking what we need.

 

He alone is really all we need.

 

So even when we don’t understand our situations….or don’t like them….or are hurting….afraid….turned upside down….

 

Pleroma!

 

You are complete.  You are filled.  You are ready to sail!

 

Trust your Captain.  He’s got your course all charted, and He’s got you more equipped than you realize.

 

Of His fullness we have all received.

 

Can You Be Sure?

Aaron had a seizure at 4:30 this morning.  It was around two minutes long, shorter than some but always too long.  No seizures at all is definitely preferred, but that doesn’t seem to be what God has planned for Aaron in his life.  His nocturnal seizures are why Gary and I still sleep with a baby monitor on our nightstand.  Aaron knows that I go into his room when I hear a seizure and that I’m there to help him as needed. 

Aaron got out of bed around 7:00.  I would need to look in his log book that he keeps to see the exact time. 

OK, I just snuck in his room and took a peek.  He wrote down his getting out of bed time as 7:02.  Isn’t he funny and amazing?

He drank his three cups of coffee, as always…..and he bugged me about a fourth cup, as always.  He said his head hurt, too, as always it does after a seizure.  I can only imagine.

And as always after a seizure, he decided to go back to bed.  He told me his plan, but he wasn’t forgetting about that fourth cup of coffee.

“Can I have a fourth cup when I get out of bed?” he hopefully asked.  And I gave him some hope that he could.  He has no idea what all I would gladly do for him on these seizure days.  I try not to show my hurting heart generosity too much, either, because good old Aaron will jump on that like a tick on a dog.  Forget the fourth cup of coffee!  Let’s go for five or six!

After Aaron had the assurance that a fourth cup of coffee was a real possibility, he started to walk away.  But he came back to the top of the stairs, one more request on his mind.

“Can you make sure I don’t have another seizure in bed?” he asked me.

Oh, if only I could!  I might have to think about granting a fourth cup of coffee, but if I could grant that my son have no more seizures then I would do it in a flash. 

I knew what Aaron meant.  I try to get him to express himself more clearly, so I asked him how I was supposed to do that.

“Can you hear if I do?” he clarified.

“Yes, I’ll hear if you do,” I answered.  I assured him that I had the baby monitor on right beside me and that I would be listening.  He was satisfied with my answer and with the knowledge that Mom was keeping her ear open, so off he went to bed. 

It’s sad to see that Aaron shows this fear of having a seizure.  I don’t blame him one single bit.  He doesn’t remember the seizures, but he’s seen friends at his day group have them and so now he knows what they look like.  And he certainly knows what they feel like when he wakes up with a bad headache, sometimes a bitten tongue, losing his sense of taste, and other complications.  It’s a very hard thing to see your child endure this.  Harder still to see your usually unexpressive adult child begin to verbalize his fears. 

Victory in the verbalization…..sadness in the expressed reality.

I am Aaron’s strength right now.  I am his comfort and his hope.  Me….and the baby monitor.  Aaron is depending on us to be there for him and to help him if he has another scary seizure.

This morning I had planned to write about Nehemiah and the guarantee that he gave the children of Israel as they built the wall of Jerusalem.  I didn’t know I would have this illustration from Aaron.  I would rather not have it.  I would rather use another example from some other scenario in my own life that doesn’t involve him.  But this is where God has us.  This is His sovereign plan, one that I trust even when it hurts.

The Jewish people were rebuilding the wall of Jerusalem, but there were enemies who didn’t want them to succeed.  These enemies used words of discouragement and ridicule, but when they saw that the Israelites were serious about rebuilding the wall they changed their tactic.  The enemies became intimidating, threatening to kill not only the workers but their families as well. 

The Jews became scared.  The enemies’ threats were working.  In Nehemiah 4:10, it was said that the worker’s strength was failing.  That word, “failing,” meant to stumble or totter.  The workers were literally tottering under not only the physical work they were doing, but especially they were stumbling emotionally and spiritually under the continued threats they were facing from their enemies. 

They were scared.  And in verse 14, Nehemiah said that when he saw their fear he spoke to them….to the nobles, the officials, and to all the people who were so afraid.  Here’s what he said:

“Do not be afraid of them!  Remember the Lord Who is great and awesome, and fight…..”

This verse has been on my mind for a couple weeks now.  I’ve had some fears and concerns in my life.  Health issues for Aaron, for Andrea, for Gary.  Aaron’s behaviors that impact him and us so much.  Andrew adjusting to a difficult new job.  So many other things that jump around in my brain during the dark night hours when I’m unable to sleep…..

I could name fears that I know so many of our friends are experiencing.  Life has changed in a moment for some.  Then there’s the continuing impact of those changes.  Strokes….dementia…..upcoming surgeries…..serious infections…..the diagnosis of a child with a potentially life changing syndrome…..ongoing multiple children with special needs….exhaustion…..job uncertainties…..

Our life stresses are like the enemies of the Jews in Nehemiah.  They surround us, threatening us with their potential or certain life changes.  We sometimes stumble under the burden of it all.  Fear is very debilitating.  Our mind goes places it shouldn’t but it’s so hard to keep from doing that.

This is why Nehemiah’s words have meant so much to me lately.  I need to refocus my focus.  I need to choose what I allow my mind to dwell upon.  The answer is simple, but difficult, because the enemy wants me to stay glued to my fears and my worries…..both the known and the unknown.

But…..REMEMBER!!

Remember the Lord!!

The Lord Who is GREAT and Who is AWESOME!!

God’s got this….all of this.  Whatever the enemy is throwing at us, whatever we see around us, whatever we hear in our head in the dark of the night….is NOT what we are to remember or to dwell upon.

Our God is great and He is awesome.  The battle is His, not mine! 

And so I fight, but I’m not the one fighting.  I am allowing God to fight for me as I pray and give Him my battles and my fear and my worries.  When I feel that familiar fear being thrown at me from the enemy outside the walls of trust, I remember and I remind myself that God is the One Who will fight for me.

The Lord Who is GREAT!

The Lord Who is AWESOME!

I’ll hear you and I’ll be there if you have another seizure, Aaron.

“Can you be sure?” he asked.  “Yes.  I’ll be sure,” I answer.

I’ll hear you and I’ll be there in your fears, God says to me.  

“Can you be sure?” I ask.  “Yes.  I’ll be sure,” He answers.

“Our God will fight for us!”  (Nehemiah 4:20)

Remember!  The Lord!

Holding My Hand

 

She called two nights ago, our beautiful daughter who lives too far away.  She and I had our usual silly “answering the phone” routine, with our familiar teasing and laughter.  Then she said, “Wellll…..” and I knew something was coming.  Moms know these things.  “I saw the cardiologist today and so I thought I’d call and tell you…..”

 

Then I heard words like echocardiogram….stress test…..enzyme levels……blood work….   Possible this and possible that.  I was calm, because I just am that way, usually.  And because she wants me to be that way.  We’ve faced the unknown before with her, and here it is again, lurking like an unwanted intruder in the background.  Actually, red flags were raised after her double pneumonia last July when symptoms and tests weren’t adding up just right.  Doctor visits, multiple tests, many vials of blood…..then a rheumotologist…..now a cardiologist.  An answer would be nice.  I think.

 

But all she has right now are positive results….negative results….symptoms….and no sure diagnosis.  So that leaves us with still more questions than answers.  Leaves her juggling a demanding genetics job with multiple doctor and testing appointments.

 

Leaves me with a choice to make as I feel those icy fingers of fear around my heart.

 

It’s no mistake that a couple weeks ago, as I looked through a notebook stuck on a shelf, I found an old note from a friend written three years ago.  She wrote it after I had surgery on my right shoulder.  She ended the note by saying, “It seems that God’s message is often personal.”  And then she wrote down this verse for me:

 

“For I am the Lord your God, Who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you.”  Isaiah 41:13

 

I remember being a little girl at Knob Elementary School.  Every Friday, one of us King kids would get to spend the night with Grandmother and Granddaddy.  It was a super wonderful Friday when it was my turn to spend the night with them.  I thought the day would never end!  Finally, it was time to leave the school!  I would run outside and look up the hill.  Sure enough, there would stand Granddaddy, waiting for me patiently.  Up the hill I would run to his big smile and warm hug.  Then he would take my hand and we would walk to their house a few blocks away.  I felt totally safe and secure as we walked along with my little hand held securely in Granddaddy’s big, worn hand.  I had no fear…..just total trust.

 

How I need to be that way now with God!  God, Who takes hold of my right hand and speaks to me as a child.

 

“Do not fear,” He says.  “I will help you.”

 

He promises that to my girl, too, in a way that even I as her mother cannot do.  My words of comfort sometimes ring hollow compared to those of our God.

 

“Do not fear.  I will help you,” he says.

 

All around me are friends and family who are going through deep valleys.  Doctors, tests, dismal scenarios, dark diagnoses, uncertainty.  Exhaustion, worry, fear, guilt…..

 

Steve, our age, recovering from a sudden major stroke.  Atha, in the hospital and now rehab for nearly a month.  Scott, her husband, going through testing.  Nicholas, with ongoing life threatening infection and other issues.  A father and son, both with serious cancer.  So many others with cancer.  Parents with the daily heartbreak of children who have strayed from God’s way and are making bad, life changing decisions.  I could go on and on.

 

But like my friend said, God’s message is often personal.  Just for me, and for my Andrea, and for all of you who are struggling right now.

 

“Do not fear,” again God says.

 

No matter what happens, God tells me not to fear.  I don’t need to fear, because He is holding my right hand.  He is leading me.  He is leading you.  He loves us and He desires our best, even if we must walk through the painful times.

 

“I will help you,” He continues.

 

I won’t be left alone to figure it out and to handle it.  Never did God say, “Just handle it!”

 

No.  He said He would be there to hold my hand and to help me.  I don’t know in what form that help will come, but I do know that He has promised it.  He is right beside me.  He can’t be far away and be holding my hand.  He is near.

 

The battle is the Lord’s, and the battle is won through prayer.  I talked and talked to Granddaddy as we walked along after school, telling him about my day.  God wants me to do the same as we walk along, my hand in His.  He wants me to talk to him with familiarity and with the certainty that He loves me…..He desires my best…..He desires my daughter’s best…..He will be with both of us.

 

He will be with you, too.  Take His hand.  Trust Him to be right there, helping you every step of your uncertain way.

 

When you know Him, He is the Lord your God Who waits for you and Who takes your right hand, and Who says, “Do not fear, I will help you.”

 

What better words can I impart to my daughter than these?

 

What better words can I take to heart myself?

 

I’m letting God take my hand today.  I hope you are, too.

 

 

Disappointments

Disappointments.  Not a very catchy, interesting title, is it?  Not even encouraging!  But disappointments are universal.  We all have them in one form or another, nearly every day.  At my age, I’ve had enough serious disappointments that I now count my blessings when my disappointments are more along the line of a bad hair day, getting a cold, missing a fun day with friends, or not getting in on a great sale. 

Disappointments related to Aaron usually come in two varieties.  We are either disappointed IN Aaron for some reason, or we are disappointed FOR Aaron.  We are usually disappointed IN Aaron because of his behaviors.  We are usually disappointed FOR Aaron because of something that hurts his heart, and therefore ours as well.

On November 6, two days before his birthday, I was going to take Aaron to one of Paradigm’s residential homes so that we could celebrate with some of his friends.  We were going to take pizzas and have fun.  Aaron was so looking forward to it!  But he came down with a stomach virus and was unable to go.  How disappointing!  We were disappointed for Aaron, very much.

So a week later, this past Friday, we made the same plans again.  But on Friday afternoon, the plans were canceled once again.  One of Aaron’s friends was having a very rough day and it wouldn’t have been a good situation for us to be in the home that night, no matter how much pizza we brought.  It was going to take time for this person to calm down.  In fact, this client had some words for Aaron during the situation, much like Aaron does when he has a meltdown, and it really hurt Aaron’s heart.  And it hurt and disappointed us, too, for Aaron.

All of this made Aaron act out.  He banged on the car that brings him home, making a small dent in the front of the car.  He yelled at me when he got home, escalating as I tried to talk to him.  He looked in his Friday goodie bag that sat on the kitchen table, and then knocked it on to the floor.  This is Aaron’s way of handling his own disappointments.  Instead of talking about his hurt, he becomes angry.  Talking only makes him angrier, especially my talking to him. 

I had two disappointments going on that evening.  I had my disappointment for Aaron as I was hurt for him in his hurt.  And I had my disappointment in Aaron…..in his behaviors that can’t be allowed, but sometimes can’t be stopped.  His defiance was understandable but unacceptable.  I hid his goodie bag from him as a tangible sign that his behavior was wrong…..and I wished with all my heart that he could just verbalize his disappointment instead of acting it out with harsh words and defiant behavior. 

He finally settled down enough to show an interest in going out to eat dinner instead of yelling, “NO!” as he had earlier.  So before long we met Gary at Outback, where we enjoyed dinner together and especially enjoyed seeing happy Aaron return.  In fact, before we left the house to meet Gary, Aaron said, “I’m just disappointed.”  Wow!!  Victory in three little words!  Aaron expressed his disappointment verbally and I praised him for that as I told him that I understood, and that I shared his disappointment.  I shared it so much that I even watched The Blob movie with him that night.  That movie brought me to a whole other level of disappointment, trust me.  It was painful!!  But Aaron was happy!

He had a rough morning yesterday, Monday, as he returned to Paradigm.  But the afternoon was much better.  Today he got up very early, and at 6:11 I was in the kitchen listening to him talk about The Blob movie that we had watched.  I’m sorry, but 6:11 is a little early to be handling talk about The Blob.  I’m still not over that movie.

Our morning went well, and I was happy for Aaron to be so happy as I dropped him off at Paradigm.  But shortly before 2:30 I got a call.  Aaron was having a seizure.  I had just gotten home from spending the day with my elderly friend, so I was thankful that I was free as I drove to pick Aaron up at his day group.  Poor Aaron!  Another disappointment, this time more for me.  Disappointment for Aaron as he faces these awful seizures……his badly bitten tongue…..his headache…..the interruption in what should have been a good day.  He handles it so well, thankfully unaware of how sad I am for him.

This morning, as I had my quiet time, I did what I sometimes feel compelled to do.  I asked the Lord, as I turned the pages in my Bible, to give me a special word…..something He knew I needed on this day.  Today I flipped from Romans, where I have been reading, back to the first place my turned pages led….to Malachi.  And there in Malachi 3:6 I read these words:  “For I, the Lord, do not change.” 

Simple words, but I knew they were somehow for me today.  As I drove home with Aaron beside me, his breathing having that certain post-seizure sound, I looked up at the sky as very dark clouds rolled in.  There was a mix of bright blue, but coming in were the dark stormy clouds that promised rain.  Our day was changing from bright sunshine to dark cloudiness, just like my day with Aaron had gone from bright happiness to dark seizure concerns. 
 
Disappointments.  Changes.  We face so many of those, don’t we?  And I didn’t wonder anymore why God gave me that random verse this morning in the little book of Malachi.  “For I, the Lord, do not change.”  So in the middle of disappointments, whatever they may be…..and in the middle of the changes that those disappointments often bring…..we can as God’s children stand firm in God’s promise that He does not change.  Ever.

Just stop and think about what that promise means.  God never changes.  He is always the same, loving us and instructing us and being there for us.  No amount of world changes, of family changes, of my own changes….and the disappointments they bring….will ever change God. 

I’m very, very thankful for that promise today.  I’m very thankful that God gave it to me…..humbled, really, as I always am when God speaks to me so kindly and specifically. 

One more thing.  I’m never disappointed in God.  Never.  And I know that He will see us through all of our disappointments, including the ones IN and FOR our Aaron.     

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.