Category: Trust

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.

 

 

 

 

 

This is The Day……

This morning I read about the death of one of my most remembered college professors……Martha Grace Green.  Tiny little Mrs. Green was a powerhouse as she taught speech to hundreds of students over the years.  We quickly learned not to underestimate her due to her size, for behind that small stature was a take-charge woman who taught us the proper way to give a speech……and to speak – (NEVER say each and every!!!)…….and also to live.  For at the beginning of each and every class…..so sorry, Mrs. Green!…….the entire class recited Psalm 118:24.  “This is the day which the Lord has made; we shall rejoice and be glad in it.” 

Many memories of Martha Grace were coursing through my mind this morning as I went about my routine, getting ready to drive Aaron to meet his day group.  I wasn’t at all surprised to hear Aaron knock on my locked bedroom door as soon as I got out of the shower.  Aaron often stands outside my bedroom door when it’s locked, knocking and waiting on me to let him in.  He will sometimes stand out in the hall for many minutes, as he did this morning, while he waits for me to open the door. 

When I finally opened the door this morning, there stood Aaron, holding onto the two sides of the hallway wall with both hands, arms outstretched.  “Mom,” he said.  “I’m dizzy!”  He then proceeded to walk inside my bedroom to follow me as I got ready to dry my hair.  However, he was having a very difficult time staying upright.  He was more than a little dizzy.  He was flat out very dizzy, leaning to one side and then the next as he tried to steady himself.  He held on to my dresser and then to the bathroom door as he followed me. 

I knew right away what this severe dizziness was.  His Epilepsy doctor recently increased one of his seizure drugs, a new one that Aaron has been on for a couple months.  The doctor had told me that the most common side effect is dizziness.  I had hoped that we wouldn’t see anything of significance with Aaron, but my hopes were dashed as I watched Aaron try to walk back to his room…….looking like a drunken sailor. 

I made sure he was safely in his room, sitting at his desk watching a movie, and I returned to my bathroom to dry my hair.  As soon as I finished, I heard Aaron again.  This time I looked and found him crawling up the hall.  Yes, he was crawling up the hall and into my bathroom like a baby on all fours.  Poor Aaron!  It made me so sad to see him like that.  He lay on my bathroom floor, wondering why he was dizzy.  He listened to me explain about the side effect of the increased dose of his new seizure drug.  He was satisfied that he was experiencing a side effect……relieved that it wasn’t his movie that was making him dizzy. 

 
Eventually Aaron crawled back up the hall and into his bedroom, where I helped him into his bed.  “I wish I didn’t take that pills,” he said.  “I just wish I could take my other pills.”  My heart hurt for Aaron.  He dozed a little and I hoped that he would sleep off the dizziness and return to normal when he was awake.  I knew that he couldn’t go to his day group like this, so I notified them that Aaron would be staying home.  I called his doctor to report the situation and to see what he wanted Aaron to do.  And as I finished getting myself ready, I was mentally rearranging my day.  At this time of year especially, but really every day, I have my routine figured out for each day.  I know what I will do when I drop Aaron off to meet his group……what I will do first, second, third, etc.  I try to make the wisest use of my time as well as the wisest way to save gas as I plan what to do when.  What will I do today because I can’t do it tomorrow……because tomorrow is also planned out……and the day after that…..

The side effects of Aaron’s medicine today that showed up in his body also showed up in my schedule, and in my planning, and in my LIFE.  Which brought me to the point of remembering Mrs. Green and then inwardly smiling as I made myself quote her life verse once again.  “This is the day which the Lord has made; we shall rejoice and be glad in it.” 

I shall rejoice and be glad in it, I told myself.   A little change in my routine is no big deal.  I can readjust, reschedule, rethink, and be just fine.  Some days it isn’t so easy, granted, but today I can…..and I will……and I really have to…..just stop and be glad in it.  So as I put away mounds of folded laundry that I had set aside for too long……and cleaned both bathrooms……and talked to Aaron when he stirred…..I kept repeating Psalm 118:24.  I kept telling myself to heed its message…..to not complain or sigh…..but to rejoice and be glad in it. 

IN it…..no way around it or under it or over it.  IN the situation I was to rejoice.  And that included poor Aaron going to the bathroom after I had thoroughly cleaned his toilet and the floor……and finding myself on my hands and knees cleaning up an even bigger mess, with dear Aaron telling me he was sorry.  Dizziness and going to the bathroom when you’re a man don’t mix very well. 

Aaron is better now.  The doctor’s office called with new dosage instructions.  The bathroom is clean again.  Aaron even got some Sonic for lunch! 

I am better, too.  Better for having learned years ago a most valuable lesson from Martha Grace Green.  She had no idea…..or maybe she did……of the many ways that her many students would use that life verse in our own lives.  I certainly never dreamed that I would be helping my 30 year old special needs son crawl up the hall to his bed on the morning I learned of Mrs. Green’s death……and had her life verse repeating in my head over and over, giving me great encouragement.  I never imagined that this would be my life when I was a young college girl sitting in Mrs. Green’s speech class.

But Martha Grace had lived enough life to know that all of her students needed to have one thing ingrained in our heads when we left her class.  God has made each of our days to be what they are, and we are to rejoice and be glad in each and every one.  Sorry again, Mrs. Green!

“This is the day which the Lord has made; I shall rejoice and be glad in it.” 

Thank you, Mrs. Green.  Somehow you knew.

Martha Grace Green with her son, Steve
 
 

 

When the Unexpected Becomes Reality

 

I was at my neighbor’s house last Thursday morning as her movers were loading all of her belongings that she was moving to her new assisted living home.  I had run back over to our house to get Aaron and deliver him to meet his day group.  That’s when I got the text from Gary…..as I got Aaron off his computer, let Jackson out to do his business, and quickly checked to see if Aaron had taken his pills.  Gary’s text said, “I’m OK.  Small plane crashed on our building.”

 

What?!  I looked at the picture he sent, but the seriousness of the situation didn’t hit home with me even then.  I had no idea of how tragic and awful it really was.  But later, as we got Nora moved into her apartment, our other neighbor hooked up her television and turned on the local channel.  There was live coverage for the rest of the day……and I was so thankful that Gary had taken the time to text earlier to let me, Andrea, and Andrew know that he was safe.

 

Four people were killed, we found out as the day wore on……the pilot, and three people inside a simulator where the plane had crashed.  I couldn’t imagine the fear I would have experienced if I had not known that Gary was safe from the beginning.  My heart goes out to the families of those who died.  Who would ever imagine that you would go to work one day in Wichita and have your building hit by a plane?   Who would ever imagine getting that horrible visit from a chaplain bearing that terrible news?  And I knew it could easily have been me that received that news…..me that was left without a husband…..my kids left without their dad.

 

We don’t know, do we, what a day will hold.  A couple days before the plane crash, I was nearly involved in a serious car accident…..but it didn’t happen.  Gary could have been killed on Thursday in the FlightSafety building……but it didn’t happen.  What if it HAD happened, though?

 

Like it happened with Mary…..a mom I know who is in her early 30’s.  Less than two weeks ago, she was leaving a movie theater with her four young children, one a two month old, and she had a major stroke.

 

Like it happened with our good friends, David and Jennifer, the day after the plane crash.  David’s dad was scheduled to come home after routine pacemaker surgery, but instead that morning he suddenly died……without warning…..totally unexpected.

 

Like it happened that same day with other good friends whose daughter-in-law and two grandchildren were involved in a serious front end collision on their way to spend the weekend with a friend.  They survived, thank the Lord.

 

What do we do when the unthinkable DOES happen?  What do we do when the unexpected becomes our reality?

 

When we feel like we’ve been hit in the gut and we can’t breathe, the only thing to do is fall back into the arms of God.  How do we do THAT?  By making a conscious decision to trust Him, and to remember Who He is and what He has promised us.  Alec Motyer says, “When the trial comes that prompts the unbelieving ‘Why?’ we must rather drill our minds to hear the call for faith, to recall the Lord’s promises, and cast ourselves utterly onto the reliable rock of His Word.”

 

A couple days after the plane crash, a friend called me.  She was so thankful that Gary wasn’t killed or injured.  She made the comment that we all often hear…..”God is so good.”  And I have to ask myself…..if Gary had been killed or badly injured, could I still say, “God is so good?”  I pray that I could and that I would still declare the goodness of God no matter my personal outcomes, for God’s goodness doesn’t change because He might allow me to go through some tough times.  Paul told Timothy that God remains faithful, and I hope that through my pain and grief I would be able to say and believe the same.

 

This is why it’s so important to learn who God is now……to know his attributes BEFORE the traumas hit.  Our Wichita first responders had just participated in a mock plane crash drill a month before the plane hit FlightSafety.  This drill helped them be better prepared for the real thing.  Likewise, I know that I need to daily trust God in the many events of my life and to learn His character, so when the really hard times come I am better prepared to draw on what I have already learned about God.

 

“How blessed are all who take refuge in Him,” David said in the Psalms.

 

Not spared…..but blessed and held.

Stability

Now there’s a good, solid word for you……stability.  I believe that all of us crave stability even in the midst of changes in our lives.  Some changes are exciting……new friendships, marriage, a new job, a new house, new baby.  Yet even in the midst of these positive changes, we desire an inner stability….a steadiness in our lives at the core of our being.  If we find ourselves facing unhappy changes, then our inner stability can be threatened and we can become very unbalanced.

I remember losing my balance a couple years ago on our stairs in the middle of the night as I let our dog out to go potty.  I hung on for dear life as I rocketed down the stairs after losing my balance.  Our thick wooden door at the foot of the stairs was my stopping point, my shoulder slamming into it full force.  That instability resulted in major shoulder surgery with months of recovery and rehab, and still today I have a shoulder that will never be the same again. 

I know a lot of people facing instability in their personal lives today…..we all do.  I just heard last night about a dear 33 year old mother of four that I know who had a major stroke on Saturday.  I’ve had several conversations in this past week with parents who are terribly hurt and worried about wayward children.  We and our other neighbors are helping our little elderly neighbor, Nora, move to assisted living after losing her husband to cancer in May.  A year ago she never dreamed any of this would be happening.  Actually, none of us knows what a day will hold for us when we climb out of bed in the morning, do we?

These kinds of instability, and so many others, can rock our world.  We can be shaken to the very inner parts of ourselves.  But I also know that even when we are surrounded by so much instability, we can…..deep, deep in our souls…..have a constancy that never changes and is never shaken.  Of course, I’m referring to our relationship with God.  When you have a personal relationship with the One Who is always constant, then you know that you can lean on him when life becomes unbalanced, for He never shifts or changes. 

The first part of Isaiah 33:6 jumped out at me this morning:  “He shall be the stability of your times.”  I know this chapter is talking about the future, but I also know that we can apply this truth to our lives as believers right now, today, because it’s a truth about God that never changes.  What are your times?  What are my times?  What times are we each living in at this point in our lives?  Whatever it is….wherever we are…..if we know the Lord, He will be the stability of our times.

And I think of our Aaron, who in so many ways forces Gary and I to fall back onto the stability of God.  Aaron’s Epilepsy and autism are issues that we deal with every day of our lives…..and just when we think we’re somewhat coasting along in our version of normalcy with Aaron, something changes.  It could be a behavior or a health issue, but change is fairly certain to be constant with Aaron….if that makes sense. 

Gary and I were slapped in the face with this reality on Saturday night.  Aaron had one seizure during the night before, which is not at all unusual.  He has had seizures in his sleep for years after enduring all sorts of other seizures, day or night, during his young years and into puberty.   We have grown accustomed to rarely ever seeing a seizure when Aaron is awake…..except for one at the theater with his group in September and one at the YMCA a few weeks ago…..and then again Saturday night.

Gary and I were watching the World Series, and Aaron was sitting in Gary’s desk chair talking to us.   I looked down at my notebook on my lap, and in two seconds Gary called my name.  I looked up to see Aaron having a seizure, out of the blue and totally unexpected.  Gary was able to keep him from falling out of the chair, and when it was over and Aaron was a little lucid, we eased him onto the floor.

Aaron was conscious but he wasn’t with us.  His eyes were wide, his arms and hands kept lifting up awkwardly as if he was reaching for something, and he couldn’t speak.  He tried to speak, but all he could manage was a smile.  That was pretty heartbreaking.  Finally he was able to muster one word, with effort.  You can guess what it was.  “Mom?” he said.  I had to smile to keep from crying.  Aaron must say “Mom” at least a hundred times a day…..or so it seems…..so it was fitting that this was the first word he was able to say. 

We kept him with us while we watched the game.  I tickled his back, which he loves, while he recovered.  Soon he was talking again about aliens and wanting to go to his room to watch his alien movie, which we reluctantly let him do.  It’s just that we have this fear now…..that started a few weeks ago…..as we see him edging back into sudden daytime seizures while he’s up and around. 

On the next day, Sunday, we let him sleep.  He woke up too late for Gary and me to go to church, but we wouldn’t have left him alone anyway at that point.  We later took him with us to Sam’s, which he loved, and on the way home I told him that I would fix the Lasagna that he had been wanting.  That made him very happy.  I invited Nora over for lunch and to watch some football, not knowing if Aaron would be nice to her this time or not…..but he was perfectly nice and funny…..and we had a wonderful afternoon.  Of course, we had to endure watching some of Aaron’s Mountain Monster show that he was watching before we could change the channel to football. 

For the rest of the afternoon, after Aaron had gone back up to his room, he kept bounding down the stairs and coming into the family room to ask Nora some important questions.  Questions like:  Would you eat an alien egg?  Did you know that those aliens have concentradik (concentrated) acid in their blood?  Why is there a Queen alien?  Have you seen aliens hang from the ceiling?   Would you watch the movie, Alien?

With each question, Aaron would bend over and rub his hands together with delight…..and Nora would laugh and laugh.  He didn’t really care about the answers to his questions.  He just wanted to talk and to share his alien discoveries and to be the center of things…..which he is without even trying.

Later, he and I played Skip-Bo.  You would never have known he had such a strong and unexpected seizure the night before.  Life with Aaron has returned to normal.  Just now he came downstairs carrying a little dirty carrot from the bucket of garden produce that I haven’t yet washed.  He was so excited to hold that carrot and to ask questions about the carrot….and to let Jackson sniff it, of course.  Typical Aaron. 
 

 
We have the continuity…..the stability…..of who Aaron is mixed in now with that cloud of fear concerning his unexpected seizure activity.  Instability is at the back of our minds.  I know that’s to be expected because we love Aaron and we are concerned for him.  But I’m so thankful that we can lean on God when we feel ourselves getting unbalanced with worry, and know that He is “the stability of our times.”  None of these developments surprise Him.  He is here with us and here with Aaron. 

We all learn the deepest lessons in the hard times.  We test the solidness of God when the ground upon which we stand is uneven and giving way beneath us.  Whatever you’re going through, I hope that you have experienced the stability of God in the center of your pain.  He is there for you, constant and sure.  I pray that I remember this truth in whatever lies ahead as well.  

 

 

Can’t You Be Nice?


Aaron stayed home yesterday because he had three seizures during the night.  I let him sleep in so that he could recover.  He got out of bed, drank some coffee, and took his meds along with some pain reliever for his headache.  I needed to make a trip to Sam’s but I wouldn’t leave him at home by himself, so I asked him if he felt like going with me.  He jumped at that opportunity, seeing visions of a cart full of items that he wanted…..not paper towels and toilet paper and boring meat, for sure!  And the offer of eating lunch there was too good to pass up, so off we went, listening to music and listening to Aaron talk about everything he saw…..of course!
We had settled at our table at Sam’s with our pizza slices and glasses of water, when I decided to take a picture of Aaron.  He agreed to the picture only if I let him pose as a Star Wars clone.  He told me to send the picture out with the explicit description that he was making the face of a Star Wars Republic Commando clone…..the PC game, not the movie.  OK, got it, Aaron!  
He then asked me if I was going to use the shopping cart that was big and flat…..because then he could ride on it like Barb and Brandy let him do when they take him to Sam’s.  I told him no, I was not using that flat cart, and he was disappointed.  He continued to ask me about this as we talked during lunch, pointing out how others were using the big flat cart.  But they weren’t pulling a big Aaron on their flat carts…..which didn’t matter to Aaron at all.  He didn’t think it would be at all unusual for him to be pulled on the big flat cart…..like Barb and Brandy do.  
We finished our lunch and then walked toward the carts.  Aaron decided to try one more time to change Mom’s mind, asking me again if I would get the big flat cart for him to ride on.  Again I said no.  “Mom?” he asked.  “Can’t you be nice?”
So I reminded him that I had been nice to let him come with me.  I had been nice to get him pizza for lunch.  I was being very nice, I told him.
And he quickly responded, “Well, can’t you be nice a SECOND way?”
I laughed as I walked and Aaron lumbered beside me on our way to claim our cart…..our normal cart.  And in that normal cart we placed some items that made Aaron very happy…..and walking made him feel better.  He really didn’t need the big flat cart at all. 
 This morning, as I prayed, I thought about the comment that Aaron made.  Sometimes I question God’s direction in my life…..what He allows and what He takes away.  In my own way, I am Aaron.  I don’t always recognize how “nice” God is to me because my eyes and my thoughts are instead on the things that He is not giving me.  I want Him to, in a sense, pull me along on that big flat cart…..doing everything my way.  
God, can’t You be nice to me a SECOND way?  I know You have done this for me and that for me, but I also want this other thing.  I think I NEED this other thing.  But God in His wisdom says no….and if I but look, I’ll see that His plan for me, a normal cart, can also be filled with many wonderful items and blessings that I might have missed had He given me that other cart……that SECOND way that I so wanted.  
Help me, Lord, to stop asking You to be nice to me a SECOND way, and to be thankful and trusting for the way that You have chosen for me each day. 

My Wormy Cucumber…..and Aaron


Last night was a seizure night for Aaron.  We are so thankful that he doesn’t have constant daily seizures like our friend’s son, Elijah, has.  I told Wendy this morning that I don’t know how she does it apart from God’s grace.  I know that each of us who know the Lord depend on His grace for the many circumstances that we face in this life.  Having a suffering child is tough.  When Aaron has seizures is when I feel most vulnerable emotionally.  His autism is high functioning, though in its own way debilitating, but he at least can function.  His autism makes him at times very frustrating and it causes him to be in trouble more than we like, both here at home and at his day group.  Or then he can also be very endearing and funny, even hilarious.
But his seizures……they make me sad.  They show me the seriousness of Epilepsy…..the danger.  I may be vulnerable emotionally on these days, but he is vulnerable physically.  And as his mother, that scares me….and makes my heart hurt. 
However, I know from experience over the years that I cannot dwell on the scary or on the negative, even when it comes to my son…..my first born.  Being aware is one thing.  Being defeated with constant worry is quite another.  And constant regret……that’s one thing that I very consciously pull my mind away from when it starts down that path.  I would love for Aaron to have a normal life, a job, a wife and children…but he doesn’t and he probably never will.  Living with regret over those issues only pulls me down and doesn’t do anything to help Aaron.  Plus it’s not honoring to God, Who wants me to trust Him in all things.  That means ALL.  Even Aaron, my son, and my hurt over his pain and difficulties. 
 
Aaron slowly made it downstairs this morning after his three seizures.  He tried to stay up and awake but as is typical for him, he laid back down on the couch and fell promptly asleep.  I covered him with his favorite blanket……the animal print blanket…..and he slept deeply until he had another large seizure.  Now he is awake off and on, talking about wanting his coffee that he missed this morning……will it still be hot…….when can he have it……worried that he won’t get to drink it……typical Aaron.
 
Earlier, while he slept and with me being unable to leave this area of the house for fear of another seizure, I stood at the kitchen sink.  I was washing the produce that I had gathered in the garden yesterday evening before dark.  Some tomatoes…..okra…..a red pepper……one pear that I was able to reach from our pear tree……and a few stray cucumbers.  On one of the cucumbers I saw the unmistakable signs of worms.  The brown, crusty spots on the outside of the cucumber were my clue, so I grabbed a paring knife and cut into the peel.  Yep, there it was…..a yucky worm……and then another nearby.  It was tempting to just throw the whole cucumber away, but I’m pretty thrifty about my garden produce that we’ve worked hard to raise.  There was still plenty of good left in that cucumber, so I washed the remainder and put it with the other healthy produce.  Aaron loves cucumbers, so he can eat it later.
 
This might sound strange, but Aaron’s a lot like that wormy cucumber.  He has his issues…..his “worms”……..that disrupt his life.  The autism….the Epilepsy……they have completely changed his life from what we thought it would be.  When placed beside his sister and brother, we can see a stark contrast.  Andrea, a scientist and geneticist in a major lab……and Andrew, working on a professional NHRA pit crew.  Their lives are dreams come true for both of them.  We love hearing about their work, even when we don’t understand half of it.  It’s exciting and fulfilling for them.
Aaron is like that cucumber, yes.  He has some chunks removed……some expectations that we had for him that had to be removed.  But he has amazing value if we but stop and look.  God does NOT create mistakes.  Aaron has tremendous worth.  He draws us to God in ways we probably never would have been drawn otherwise.  He keeps us humble.  Oh, does he ever!!  He keeps us at times bowed down with worry or frustration or embarrassment.  But listen to the verse God gave me this morning:
“But You, O Lord, are a shield about me; my glory, and the lifter of my head.”  (Psalm 3:3)
I love how God gives me what I need, when I need it, from His Word.  He lifts my head to look not only up to Him, but to look at Aaron with new eyes……eyes of faith and trust in the God Who loves Aaron and loves us.  God has a plan for Aaron that is every bit as important and amazing as the plan He has for Andrea and Andrew.  We just don’t always measure Aaron’s value that way, but God does.  And He reminds me on these days that I need to as well.
Aaron……my wormy cucumber……just in this little area of my house, God has once again spoken to my heart.  
Friend who is suffering today, never doubt God’s plan and His love for you.  Let Him be the lifter of your tired head.  He does care…..He does have a plan……for all of us.
Including my wormy Aaron.  My perfect Aaron, with lots of good in him that God is using. 

Lessons From the Lone Tiger Lily


In our back flower beds we have two patches of Tiger Lilies.  They were there when we bought this house 15 years ago.  Every spring they faithfully poke their shoots out of the ground and quickly grow.  Sometime in early to middle July they burst into bloom, with their bright orange color taking center stage for several weeks.
 
This year was no exception, but somehow I thought they didn’t appear to be as strong and as vibrant as in other years.  They bloomed later this year, too.  They just didn’t seem to be the same old Tiger Lilies that we had enjoyed in previous years.
A couple weeks ago we had a thunderstorm during the night.  Between having the windows closed, the air conditioner running, and the dulling effect of sleep, it was hard to tell just how strong the wind blew or how hard the rain fell.  I got up that morning, and as soon as daylight hit I opened the kitchen blinds.  Instantly I saw it……the patch of Tiger Lilies, stripped bare of their pretty petals and standing there with nothing but their fading leaves.  The storm had blown off all the petals.  They looked stark and ugly in the morning light.
Every single Tiger Lily stalk was stripped bare of its beauty……except for one.  There in the midst of all the sad stalks was one lone Tiger Lily that still carried its orange petals.  It was actually only one part of a stalk, but there it was, alone with its blooms…….standing tall in the midst of all the damage surrounding it.
 
That lonely Tiger Lily stood there for days, even through several other storms, with its petals intact.  And every time I looked at it I thought of a verse and I pondered the lessons that this little Tiger Lily was teaching me.  The verse:  “Be strong in the Lord and in the power of His might.”  And the lessons are many.
I’ve never seen a time when so many are so burdened.  I see it in the world……ISIS, Syria, Gaza and Israel, Ferguson…..I don’t need to keep that list going.  Even the death of Robin Williams hit many people deeply.  It’s exhausting to watch the news.
And then closer to home, in our own families and lives, so many are facing issues of deep concern.  Death, illness, financial hardship, marital stress, worries about children, pressures of all sorts, hurts and disappointments……
I don’t mean to sound depressing, but this is just how life is right now for so many.  And even for those of us who walk by faith, who trust in the Lord, who try to lean on Him for our needs…..we can find ourselves overwhelmed and ready to just give up.  We feel as battered as my bare Tiger Lilies……like our beautiful petals are just about to turn loose and leave us stark and alone.  Why read our Bibles?  The words seem empty.  Why pray?  I don’t feel like God is listening and my mind wanders.  Why obey?  Where has it gotten me?
These are lies of Satan.  These are his ways of stripping us of our beauty that Christ has given us, just like my ugly Tiger Lilies that I saw that morning.  I find it very interesting that Paul, when he was encouraging the Philippians to keep maturing in their faith, told them to press forward……to forget what’s behind and to reach toward what lies ahead.

Listen to this contrast in Isaiah 1, where Isaiah was describing sinful Israel.  He said that they had abandoned the Lord and turned away from Him.  Guess what that phrase “turned away” means?  It means to estrange themselves backward.  Going backward…….pulling away from the Lord and going backward instead of forward.

 

There’s my single Tiger Lily again……standing up and standing strong no matter what was going on around it.  Even when all the other Tiger Lilies let go and gave up, this one stood strong…….like he was pressing forward instead of going backward.  And that’s what we need to do.  Don’t give up when things get tough!  Stay true to God…….keep reading His word…….keep praying…….keep obeying…..keep walking in His ways…….keep trusting.  We may not feel like it.  We may be tired and discouraged.  We may even doubt God.  But don’t go backward…..keep going forward.
It reminds me of a verse from the old hymn, The Solid Rock:
          His oath, His covenant, His blood
          Support me in the whelming flood;
          When all around my soul gives way,
          He then is all my hope and stay.
Stand tall.  Stand strong.  Look forward.  And keep your petals on!
         

Caterpillars and Butterflies


This morning I read another small section of Elisabeth Elliott’s book Keep a Quiet Heart.  In the chapter entitled There Are No Accidents, Elisabeth talks about interviewing Judy Squier.  Judy was born with no legs, so Elisabeth asked Judy to write a letter to the parents of a little boy born without arms or legs.  I quote from part of the letter that Judy wrote to these parents:
“’What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the Creator calls a butterfly.’  As humanity we see only the imperfect, underside of God’s tapestry of our lives.  What we judge to be ‘tragic – the most dreaded thing that could happen,’ I expect we’ll one day see as the awesome reason for the beauty and uniqueness of our life and our family.”
She goes on…….the whole section is excellent and struck a deep chord in my heart.  But my mind has been on that caterpillar and butterfly all day.  You see, last November I wrote a blog about how Aaron found a butterfly and how he wanted me to hold it.  It was a special moment for me that taught me such a sweet lesson.  Today I’m thinking of other aspects of that butterfly……who was first a caterpillar.
 
I’m thinking of the day that we first heard Aaron’s diagnosis of Epilepsy.  I remember how shattered I felt as I sat at my desk that night in Germany.  Our little blond headed blue eyed son had what?  Epilepsy?  What does it mean?  What WOULD it mean?  And I cried, deep sobs of pain and acceptance.  Nine years later……another doctor, another place, yet another diagnosis.  Autism?  Asperger’s Syndrome?  What does it mean?  What WOULD it mean?  And again, when the children were asleep, I cried deep sobs of more pain and more acceptance.
Pain and acceptance have been our familiar companions all along this journey with Aaron.  I know that many other parents feels this pain, some more acutely and more severely than we ever will.  The pain of medical tests….the pain of medicines for this and more medicines for that….the pain of hospitals…….the pain of IEP’s in school…..the pain of moving and having to introduce our child all over again in our new world…..the pain of his questions…..the pain of peer rejection……the pain of trying to understand what makes him tick and what just ticks him off, and why……the pain of my guilt when I blow it and I erupt along with Aaron…..the pain of questioning God……
Pain comes naturally.  Acceptance is a decision that I make.  Acceptance is usually slower.  It certainly has been for me.  Maybe he’ll get all better with time.  Maybe the seizures will go away after puberty.  Maybe this new drug will do the trick.  Maybe he can have surgery.  Maybe the VNS will kick in.  Maybe it’s not really as serious as all that.  Maybe the autism will improve with this diet.  Maybe those guys will be Aaron’s friend.  Maybe Aaron won’t move so much and talk so much during church today.  Maybe he won’t be grouchy when his bus comes to pick him up today.  Maybe he’ll just love his day group.  Maybe he can hold a job one day and be like everyone else.  Most of the maybes don’t happen…….and acceptance slowly sinks in.  Reality of life with Aaron has been slow going……very slow going.
But it’s not the end of the world.  It may the end of the world as we know it as far as our hopes for Aaron in certain areas……….but just like that caterpillar, there is beauty in this life that God has given us.  “What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the Creator calls a butterfly.”  I held a butterfly that day last fall as I stood outside with Aaron, and I hold a butterfly in my life as I look at Aaron.  That’s because God is sovereign, and He has a plan for Aaron and a plan for our life with Aaron.  It’s a plan of beauty, even when I can’t see it as such.  
 
I have to hold on to that truth on the bad days, the sad days, the worried days, the heart-rending days of this life.  Oh, we have laughter and delight with Aaron but underneath it all are the concerns and the frustrations and the weight of always thinking about our special son.  And I deeply feel the weight of so many other moms……friends that I love and friends that I hurt for as well as they fight this fight and live this life for their special children.  
I want to tell them that God is weaving a beautiful tapestry of their lives.  They don’t feel it or see it any more than I do on many days, but God truly is a God of purpose and beauty.  So we lift each other up, we cry together, we pray for each other, we try to encourage one another……and we trust our sovereign Heavenly Father even when He doesn’t seem to answer our prayers in the way we want.
Acceptance…..of Who God is…..and how much He loves me and He loves Gary, and Andrea and Andrew…..and especially our special Aaron.  I want to hug my other moms of special children…..Wendy, Goldie, Shikara, Cheryl, Trish, Louise, and so many others.  I want to say that I may not have great words of wisdom, but I do have the truth….as do you…..that God is in charge of making caterpillars into butterflies.  
And He can…..He will………bring beauty into and out of our lives with our special children. 

Too Loud For Quietness


My thoughts lately often turn to the subject of quietness.  I’m not talking about the external quietness that we so often desire.  I get more of that sort of quietness than many people do, especially you moms with young children or those of you that work outside the home.  No, I’m talking about the inner quietness of my heart…….the quietness of contentment and peace, no matter what distractions I have around me. 
This type of quietness is hard to achieve outside of having a deep faith and trust in God.  Yet even though I may give myself daily to the Lord, beginning each morning with a new resolve to stay totally in tune with God and trust Him completely, I often find my heart……my insides……..my thoughts……..churning and stewing over this and that until I drown out the still, small voice of God that calls me to quietness.  
Life happens.  The world keeps turning and the news doesn’t get any easier to hear on most days.  Friends are hurting, neighbors need us, obligations demand us, chores press in on us……….life.  Even the dog needs to be fed!
And for me, there’s Aaron.  Last Monday he was in a terrible mood, but with God’s help I was able to be calm and to defuse him.  A stop for cheddar pasta salad worked miracles, believe me!  I was full of thankfulness, and was thinking over and over about how much God speaks to me through these lessons with my son…………lessons about God’s great love to me when I am most unlovely.  Boy, was that ever driven home the next day when I exhibited my unloveliness!  I totally lost my temper with Aaron, and then was full of guilt and remorse.  That day, I was the one who needed extra love.  And my heart was anything but quiet.
We never know what a day will hold.  There was Wednesday, after the upheaval of Monday and Tuesday, when Aaron had a doctor appointment.  We went to lunch at Chili’s after his doctor visit and just had a delightful time together.  Who would have thought that two hours after this picture was taken, Aaron would be laying in his bed having a huge seizure during his nap?  As usual, there was no warning……..nothing to prepare me or him for that.  And there again was another disruption to my quiet heart.  
 
On Saturday, we had a funnier disruption.  I was sitting on the patio, taking a break after doing some yard work.  Aaron joined me as Gary continued weed eating nearby.  As usual, Aaron was talking up a storm……and the more he talked, the more he rocked in the patio chair.  I looked down for a second and suddenly heard a grunt.   Looking up, I saw that Aaron’s chair had fallen backwards and he was laying in the grass…….laughing, thankfully.  One minute he was rocking and talking……the next he was flat on his back, feet up in the air, and thankfully unhurt.   Funny, but unexpected.
 
I remember when our children were young that there were many times I thought, “Oh, if only I had a day to myself.”  Now the kids are grown and gone, except for Aaron……but he’s gone to his day group every weekday……..during a good week.  Anyway, now I find myself thinking, “Oh, if only I had a day with Andrew and Andrea.  Too bad they live so far away.”   Then there are those evenings now when I think, “Oh, if only Aaron wouldn’t keep talking to me or asking me to do something with him.  If only I had an evening with no expectations or interruptions.”  And many times when I think, “Oh, if only Aaron wasn’t so grouchy……or so loud……or so demanding……..or so whatever.”  In other words, I tend to be pretty demanding myself of what I think will make my life just as it should be.  And out the window goes any hope of a quiet heart as I try to manufacture the perfect life that will create the quiet heart I crave.
I just started reading the book Keep a Quiet Heart by Elisabeth Elliott.  She said, talking about developing a quiet heart in this loud world, that “The secret is Christ in me, not me in a different set of circumstances.”  Wow!
So often I want the different set of circumstances……when in reality, the circumstances I am in are the ones that God wants to use in order to develop in me a quiet heart……..a heart of trust despite what’s going on around me.  A heart of acceptance for what He has allowed and even ordained to be in my life.  
Elisabeth also said, “Every assignment is measured and controlled for my eternal good.  My assignment entails my willing acceptance of my portion.”  It’s how I respond to my circumstances that will dictate my level of quietness and peace………not the circumstances themselves.  Like Paul said, “I have learned in whatever state I am in, therewith to be content.”
I’ve walked with the Lord for a long time, and still I have so much to learn.  I sure am glad that God is patient, even when I’m not.  I still want to tell Him that He’s using the wrong measure for me.  “Lighten up, Lord!” I sometimes say.  Instead I should be accepting and even thankful for what He measures out in my life.  That’s when I know I will experience a truly quiet heart.  
For quietness really is surrender, even while life spirals around us.  It’s Who we surrender TO that makes the difference……not what we’re kept FROM. 
Be quiet…..and know that I am God.

My Chains


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