Lessons From the Beetles and Worms


It’s been an interesting June here in Kansas.  We’ve had lots of rain…..over 10 inches!  It’s been really nice.  Our grass is so green, flowers are pretty, and our vegetable garden is thriving.  But looking closer the other morning, as I was finally able to gingerly walk on the muddy ground among the vegetables, I was very disappointed to see a familiar sight.  Some of the squash plants had a familiar wilt about them……sagging leaves that point to that old squash beetle that attacks the roots.  Sometimes you really have to look to find the beetles, but you don’t have to look hard to see the evidence of their destruction. 
Then over the past several days, Gary and I have made another discovery in our pecan tree in the front yard.  Caterpillars.  I know there are technical names for the variety of caterpillar they are, but suffice it to say that these web worms are destroying the leaves on our pecan tree.  We fight them every year, but this year they have just multiplied tremendously in a short time…….and now we have quite a mess.  We can definitely see these ugly worms, and can surely see the damage they are causing.
This morning I walked out to the garden to take a quick look.  It was still too muddy to venture in yet after receiving several more inches of rain night before last, so I just stood there at the edge in the wet grass, looking at the summer squash and the zucchini and the cucumbers.  The summer squash plant that I first saw made me really stop and think.  The right side of the plant was droopy even in the morning coolness.  Not just droopy, really, but downright wilted……gone…..dead, I do believe.  You could definitely see the tall weeds growing up around the dead leaves………weeds that had been able to proliferate because I had been unable to spend time fighting them.  Weeds that were clearly seen now because the leaves were hanging over, dead as can be.
The other part of the plant looked healthy and strong.  Its leaves were upright and vibrant in the morning sun, belying the fact that right beside it was its wilted half.  It’s like a fight was going on there…..life and death……good and evil.  Again, I couldn’t see the culprit……the squash beetle was hidden from my sight.  Yet I sure could see the result of the battle that was taking place there.
I later walked around to our pecan tree, checking once again on our worm situation.  There they were, thousands of worms doing their dirty work for all to see.  Both of these plants need our attention if they’re going to live and grow.  Both are in real danger if we don’t do something soon.  


I’ve been feeling like my squash plant looks lately.  Part of me is all vibrant in my walk with God, and some days I feel strong and spiritually productive.  But on other days, no matter what, I have a heaviness around my heart and feel like I’m wilting.  What are the culprits on those dead days?  Why is it that I can spend time reading my Bible and praying, and still feel like I’m just getting nowhere? 
Like the squash beetles, out of sight, I know that Satan is trying to eat away at my roots.  I find it hard to concentrate, find it difficult to pray, and often can’t really put my finger on the problem.  It’s easy to just want to give it up…….to wilt and say there’s no use in continuing to try.
Other times, I’m like the pecan tree.  I can see the problem for sure, just as we can see the worms crawling all over that tree bark.  I can point to the sin that so easily besets me and then confess it.  
I feel like some of you are like me.  I know that God warns us to be alert.  Satan is slinking around, working overtime to discourage us.  Sometimes we can’t identify the cause of our weaknesses, and other times we can see the cause very clearly.  Either way, we need to take action.  Paul told the Ephesians to “be strong in the Lord and in the power of His might.”  He told them to put on the full armor of God in order to stand against the schemes of the devil.  Paul told the believers in Ephesus that they were in a battle against spiritual forces in dark places, and he told them how and what the armor of God is……how to take it up, put it on, and use it to its full capacity.  God’s Word…..faith….truth…..righteousness……the gospel.
And to pray at all times while being alert.  Pray…..when we don’t feel like it.  Pray…..when we’re wilting.  Pray…..when we see our sin outright.  Pray….when hidden sin is eating away at us.  Pray…..when we don’t understand why we’re weary and tired.  Pray…..when we do understand why we’re weary and tired.  Pray anyway.  Pray always.  Just pray……faithfully pray, with thanksgiving……with confidence……every day.
We’re going to fight our beetles and our worms that are trying to destroy our squash and our pecan tree.  And I’m going to fight, with God’s power, the schemes of Satan that are trying to bring me down. 

The Issue of……..Lasagna


Aaron has always been easy to please when it comes to food.  He’s never been a very picky eater.  You can tell that by looking at him.  🙂   Probably his very most favorite food is lasagna.  He loves, loves, loves lasagna…….pretty much on a scale with Garfield.
In fact, I found a new recipe last weekend for Garfield’s Skillet Lasagna.  It looked so delicious that I decided to try it.  I cook mostly low carb but an occasional treat like lasagna never hurt anyone, right?  Especially Aaron!
This past Monday I told Aaron that for supper I was fixing Skillet Lasagna.  All Aaron heard was the word “lasagna” and so he was all about it.  I informed him that it was a new recipe and was made in the skillet, but that didn’t mean a lot to Aaron because he still only heard the lasagna part.  Until he walked into the kitchen when I was making this new Skillet Lasagna……
He peered down into the large electric skillet that held the Skillet Lasagna.  He backed up then, like he does when he sees something new and suspicious.  He kept staring.  Then he finally spoke.
“It’s not gonna look like lasagna.”
That was it.  I knew we were in trouble.  Therefore I embellished the wonderful attributes of this new Skillet Lasagna.  The hamburger……the tomatoes……the seasonings……the noodles……the CHEESE!!
But Aaron left the kitchen deeply disappointed because this new dish was not the lasagna that he loves.  Skillet Lasagna is not Oven Lasagna.  Period.
He ate the Skillet Lasagna with Gary and me for supper that evening.  He liked it, but he didn’t love it.  Skillet Lasagna just wasn’t Oven Lasagna.  I had to agree with him on that, though I didn’t let him know it.
The next day Aaron stayed home because we had a meeting here at the house with a coordinator for his new state insurance.  After our meeting was over, as Patrick and I stood on the porch talking, Aaron bounced out the front door with a question.
“Mom!  What’s for supper?  Can we have TRUE lasagna?”
I explained the story to Patrick as he laughed, and I told Aaron that we weren’t having lasagna that night……..Skillet or True Lasagna.  
But yesterday, Friday, was a different story.  Aaron was having a good morning because he knew that his day group was going to go see the new Transformer’s movie.  He was happy and compliant.  He also knew that he would get his Friday surprise if his last weekday went well.  This day was looking good!
So to make it even better, I had one more surprise for him.  “Aaron,” I said.  “Would you like me to make lasagna for supper tonight?”
And immediately, with great hopefulness in his voice, he said, “NORMAL?”
I laughed as I told him that yes, I would fix normal lasagna for supper.  No more of that silly Skillet Lasagna that is far from normal.
Having things normal is very important to Aaron.  Of course, sometimes his normal is anything but………to us.  But not to him.  So this week Skillet Lasagna vs. normal Oven Lasagna was an issue to our Aaron……and therefore to me, the cook.  Such a minor thing, except to Aaron.  
Don’t mess with Aaron’s normal!  Especially not his normal TRUE lasagna!
Another lesson learned in life with Aaron.    

The 10:59 and The 3:09


When Aaron watches a movie he doesn’t just watch the movie.  He also looks at YouTube movie clips of the movie that he’s watching, over and over and over.  He does the same thing with games that he’s playing.  YouTube clip after YouTube clip of his games is watched again and again by him.  I don’t mind him doing this.  It wouldn’t matter even if I did mind because Aaron would do it anyway.  What I do sometimes mind is how he wants me to watch these movie or game YouTube clips over and over as well…….with him hovering over my shoulder, bending over and rubbing his hands together in sheer delight……or clapping in my ear…..or squealing with laughter.  
I mean, really, 99.9% of those clips are totally uninteresting to me.  Aaron, however, doesn’t care about my disinterest…….or discomfort……or total boredom.  Nope.  All Aaron cares about is that he cares about those various clips, and so he thinks that Mom should care as well.  I figure it’s a small price to pay for Aaron’s happiness.  And trust me, a small movie or game clip is far, far, far more tolerable than watching a whole entire movie like Sharktopus or the super vortex movie that was German dubbed in English or the Japanese dubbed movie that Andrea and I endured…..I mean, watched…..with him.  I’ve paid my dues.  YouTube clips are what I endure…..I mean, watch…..now.
Aaron knows everything about these movie and game clips.  Everything.  Among other things, he has memorized their titles and also memorized how long the clip plays……down to the second.  One day he had me searching for that one clip that he wanted me to endure……I mean, watch……and when I thought I had found it and stopped at that one, Aaron said, “No.  It’s the 10:59.”
“10:59?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he answered.  “10:59.”
And my slow brain thankfully realized that he meant the clip was 10 minutes and 59 seconds long.  That’s when I told him that I was NOT enduring……I mean, watching…..this clip for the entire 10 minutes and 59 seconds.  He understood, knowing that he at least had me trapped for part of that 10 minutes and 59 seconds, and he was happy.  I was not.  Not until I had endured……..I mean, watched………enough to make him happy.  I don’t remember how many seconds it took for me to endure…..I mean, watch……that clip until he was satisfied.  Aaron probably knows, though, down to the second.
Sometimes it’s the action that he wants me to see.  Sometimes it’s a certain character.  And other times it’s the music.  Yes, he loves the varied forms of music that he hears on some of those clips.  Yesterday it was Star Wars Republic Commando.
“Mom, can you look up Star Wars Republic Commando?” he breathlessly asked me.  I put him off for awhile, but finally I gave in so that I could have peace once again.  This time I stood beside him at his desk as he found the certain clip and then clicked the play button.  There on the screen were little baby clones.  Cute little baby clones, newly cloned and so…….new.  The music was soft and sweet, just like you’d expect for this scene of new little baby clones.  Aaron knew that those were violins softly playing, and he smiled broadly as he listened.  Soon the scene changed.  I guess the baby clones were older now.  I couldn’t tell, but I wasn’t about to let Aaron know that.  I didn’t want a baby clone lecture.  With this new scene came new music, more upbeat and faster.  Again Aaron smiled, and then rubbed his hands together in excitement.
He then pushed stop and it was over.  That’s all he wanted me to experience…..the two different kinds of music, which had made quite an impression on him.  “Mom, first it was tiring music.  Then later it was heavy music!”
And we had a long discussion after that as he followed me around the house……a discussion about tiring music vs. heavy music.  And I thought about how lullaby type music really is tiring music if it’s able to make a new baby clone get tired enough to go to sleep.  
Brilliant, Aaron!
Yesterday evening, as we were cleaning up after supper, Aaron told me that he wanted me to look at yet another YouTube movie clip.  Sigh.  This time the clip was from Transformers…….Optimus vs. Megatron.  “Can we look it up on your laptop when we sit down to watch Wheel of Fortune?” he asked me.
I hesitated.  He continued.  “Well, maybe we can’t.  It’s 3:09.”
And Gary, smiling at me behind Aaron’s back, asked Aaron if that was 30 minutes.
Aaron walked away in disgust at our ignorance.  “No!” he exclaimed.  “Three dot dot oh nine!!”
Look at 3:09 and tell me if he’s right. 
 
And as he left the kitchen, he finished by saying, “Nobody understands me.”
Sometimes truer words were never spoken.  But yet, most of the time Gary and I DO understand him……which is even scarier sometimes than if we didn’t understand him, if you know what I mean.  
Are you guys smiling behind my back?

Mixed Emotions


Gary and I returned home last Monday after being gone for a week of vacation.  That’s a long time to leave Aaron and our Great Dane, Jackson, with caregivers.  Aaron loves the times that we leave because he gets to have others here with him, which means a change of pace for him.  He gets to eat out more, which he doesn’t need but which he does love.  He has someone to watch movies with him at home from his movie collection or a movie that they rent.  He and his caregivers might go on walks or go shopping……just normal things, really, but to Aaron they are more fun when shared with someone different.  
More fun up to a point…..and I think Aaron reached that point on Friday, and again on Monday at his day group.  He acted out a lot, being verbal and very angry.  Gary and I were actually dreading coming home, thinking we would have a rude awakening after such a wonderful time with family and with each other.  But Aaron was very happy to see us.  He called us several times every day that we were gone, but having us home was even better.  
How did he show that it was better?  Well, first of all, he gave us hugs!!  That was awesome!  And not just one hug, but several hugs spread out over the evening.  He was affectionate, on his terms, and it was sweet to experience.  
He also followed us all around, talking and talking.  He had happy talk of his time with Katie and then with Steven over the weekend.  He talked about what he ate, and where they went, and the movies they watched, and everything in between.  He followed us all over the house, and then followed us outside when we went to check the garden.  The dirt was a little soft from the recent rains, but not muddy, so I walked in to take a look at everything.  
Of course, Aaron followed, never missing a beat in his monologue.  His movie of the moment was The Blob, so most of what he said was Blob related.  He kept asking me questions about the Blob for which I had no answers, like exactly what is the Blob.  Finally he decided to analyze the Blob himself. 
“The Blob is just the size of water,” he said…..and I agreed without telling him that water doesn’t really have a size.  Instead I relished the way that Aaron sees the world, even the Blob.  We were both happy to move on to other things as we walked around the garden and I showed him some beans, as well as some zucchini and summer squash.  Aaron noticed the soft soil, though, as he notices everything.  “Mom, this sand is sinkable!” he exclaimed as he walked around.  
He wasn’t as chipper as the evening wore on.  It takes awhile to get things back to normal when you’ve been gone that long, and Aaron was ready for normal right then.   I had asked Aaron several questions about different matters, knowing that we have to be slow and careful with our questioning.  Finally, as we were getting his room ready for him to go to bed, I remembered that I needed to get the monitor out of Andrew’s room where Steven had stayed.  At first I didn’t see it on the other side of the bed, so without thinking I asked Aaron where the monitor was.
“I hate today!” he angrily answered.  “Things have been going on like, ‘Where’s your monitor?!!’”
I instantly knew that if Aaron was able to sit down and have a heart-to-heart with us, he would have said, “Mom and Dad, I’m really tired of you guys being gone.  I’m tired of things being so different and out of place.”
But no, all Aaron could do was erupt and say what he did………and I was thankful that right then I found the monitor and was able to be calm, so that Aaron could calm down.  He followed me to my bedroom even after we had successfully gone through his nighttime ritual……..blinds closed, blanket on the bed just right, his fish lamp turned off, the bright digital weather station clock dimmed, clothes for tomorrow set out, overhead light turned off, bedside lamp turned on……
But yet he followed me, talking, and asking me to come back to his room.  I was tired.  Aaron didn’t care.  I walked into his room, telling him I was going to bed, but he said, “Wait!!  I haven’t told you this.  I was reading in my Handy History Answer Book about writing.  First there were hieroglyphics, papyrus, then Guttenburg……and what else?  Chinese!  There was Chinese paper!”  
I really didn’t care one whit about any of this writing or paper business at 10:30 on the night we had just returned from vacation.  I really knew I wouldn’t care one whit about hieroglyphics or papyrus on any other night, either.  But wanting to make Aaron feel like what he said was important and that I was listening, I commented, “The Chinese also made the first firecrackers.”
He looked blandly at me and then flatly said, “I knew that.”
And so much for that, I thought.
Our week of re-entry into our real life with Aaron has had its ups and downs for sure.  Aaron has changed a lot over the past year.  He’s not always fun, funny Aaron.  He never has always been fun or funny, but he’s more volatile now than he used to be.  He has more anger now than he used to have.  Age?  Medicines?  Influences?  We don’t really know.
Gary and I have taken three trips recently, and it’s been so nice on several levels.  We realize how refreshing it is to get away……to be a couple……to have freedom to enjoy what we want to do……to enjoy our other children without Aaron interruptions.  Does that sound awful? 
I watched Aaron walking in front of me the other morning as we left Dillon’s.  There went Aaron, his bag of cheddar pasta salad and his croissants in hand.  He was large and in charge, so typical of him.  I realize what a large part he plays in Gary’s and my life.  Some positive…..some negative. 
And I read an article this week, written by a dear mother of a child with special needs.  Her child, a girl, is still young and is very sweet………or else this mother chose on this day to just write about the sweet.  After reading that article, I wanted that little girl to come live with me!  This mother was talking about never wanting her daughter to leave……never wanting to be without that sweet little girl.
I look at Aaron, like this evening on another trip to Dillon’s.  His passing gas noises as we checked out, his incessant loud talking, his whistles as we leave the store………where he tells me once again that at least he wasn’t making the farting noises.  How many times have I heard that?  And how many times has he heard me tell him to stop?  I see people look at Aaron, and it’s not like looking at a sweet little special needs girl who smiles at them and makes them feel warm all over.  Large Aaron is looked at with curiosity, to say the least…….especially when that gassy noise passes his lips………..at least I hope people know it came from his lips.
Oh well.  My mixed emotions are normal, I know.  I love Aaron and I know that he is ours to raise.  Ups and downs, good and bad, demanding and pleasing……it’s all part of this life.  God gives grace, and I know He will give direction to Gary and I as we face Aaron’s future, and ours.  
And if I had not had Aaron with me tonight, after I turned down his request to go to Sonic, I would not have heard him say, “So why did you say that Sonic is more fatfull?”
He didn’t see me smile, and he didn’t know how delightful yet another saying of his was to me.  Just like he doesn’t see my heart and know how much I love him…..even when I don’t exactly like him. 
And here’s what he said last night as I walked into his room just before bed.  He was finishing a movie, and those of you who know Aaron know that Aaron finishes a movie by watching the credits and everything else that scrolls down that screen….to the very bitter end, when the screen is either dark or goes back to the home screen.  Every.  Single.  Word.  He watches it.
“That was a short movie at the ending,” he said.
“The movie was short?” I asked for clarification.
“No,” he answered.  “The rest was long.  Just the ending was short.”
And I’m left to ponder what he just said, to realize its brilliance in an autistic kind of way, and to laugh…….behind his back, of course.
See what I would miss if not for Aaron?

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. 

I Think I Should Know You


Today is my birthday.  I’ve been enjoying special messages and phone calls and cards and gifts.  It’s wonderful to be remembered on this special day, even though I don’t expect all that kind attention.  But on this one day, this day of my birth, it really is nice to know that I am thought about and loved.  
I’ve heard from friends, some old and some new…….even some that I have never physically met.  Facebook has opened up some friendships with people that I feel like I know well but have actually never seen face to face.  I’ve had messages from friends that I have known from all the different places that we lived during our military career.  Of course, I’ve also heard from family in various ways today. 
The person I have not heard from today, and that I know I will not hear from at all on this special day, is the woman who is responsible for this day of my birth.  My mother.  I no longer expect a card from her, or a gift, or even a call.  The woman who gave birth to me no longer even remembers that day years ago that she came in from mowing the lawn while Dad was at work, and ended up in labor at our local hospital.  Not only does Mom not remember that day, she no longer remembers me.
Gary and I went home to West Virginia last week for a brief visit.  It had been far too long since we had been home to see family.  It was past time to go.   And it was also past time for my mother, who has Alzheimer’s.  I knew from what family said that Mom wouldn’t know me.  To experience that reality, though, is far different from just hearing about it.
Jeanie, my sister-in-law, took Gary and I to see mother at her assisted living home.  She lives in such a beautiful setting in those West Virginia mountains.  We’re all thankful for the good care she receives there and for how happy she has been……she and her precious cat, Princess.
We walked in to her apartment with Jeanie just as Mom was coming out of her bedroom, pushing her walker in front of her.  Mom realized that somehow she knew Jeanie, although she doesn’t really know how she knows Jeanie or who Jeanie is or what her name is.  But as for me and Gary…….there was hardly a glance in our direction, for Mom had other things on her mind as soon as she saw Jeanie’s familiar face.  She and Jeanie talked for a minute, and went to check on Mom’s concerns, with still no notice of Gary and me. 
When they returned to the living room, I went over to Mom but still she didn’t have any reaction to my being there.  No hello…..no “How are you?”………no “It’s so good to see you.”……..no hug…….no emotion at all.  And certainly no recognition.  I patted her shoulder, wondering if I should hug her, and still she hardly acknowledged me.  
Jeanie and I sat on the couch, Gary sat on the recliner, and Mom sat in her chair with the ottoman in front where she could lift her legs, her feet somewhat swollen.  It was then that Mom seemed to realize that we were there and that she didn’t know who we were.  I felt strange, as if I had entered the home of a casual acquaintance or was visiting a shut-in for church or something.  I didn’t really feel like I was sitting with my mother whom I hadn’t seen in way too long.  It was the first time in my life that my mother had not seemed glad to see me.  There was no rudeness, just distance and unfamiliarity.  
Mom was so polite, so gracious to these people that she didn’t know.  Again that feeling of unfamiliarity hung over the room.  Here sat the woman that I had known for my entire life, who loved me like no other…..like a mother loves her child………yet who at this moment was puzzling over who we were and why we were there.  
She talked about her concerns over her colitis issues, although she doesn’t understand that it’s colitis.  To her this is new and serious and has never happened before until recently, and so Jeanie kept assuring her that Dr. Pam knew all about it and that there was no cause for alarm.  I listened to Mom as she tried to talk about other things as well, seeing that many words were lost to her.  Common words like window or cat or bed.  She struggled to express her thoughts in every area because the words escaped her, and I could tell that this frustrated her.  She knows that she doesn’t know, to some extent, but the ability to bring up the correct words is largely gone.  
And there was still the matter of this strange couple sitting in her living room, smiling and talking as if we knew her.  Mom would stop and shake her head, and then say, “You just seem so familiar.  Now who are you?”  
“I’m Patty, your daughter,” I’d hear myself telling her.  Telling my mother that I was her daughter…….how odd.  I was prepared for this.  I wasn’t really surprised, but still that feeling of unfamiliarity was hanging over the room like an unwelcome presence.  It dawned on me as we repeated the introductions over and over that what I wasn’t prepared for, totally, was that when we told her who we were……….when I was identified as her daughter and Gary as my husband…….that she basically showed no joy at that revelation.  Again, she was polite and she smiled and even showed some surprise……but she didn’t show the joy that a mother would show at seeing her long absent daughter.  The connection to that emotion was gone.  Again, unfamiliarity.
“Your voices just sound like someone I should know,” she said several times as we talked.  And she would again shake her head, trying to piece together in her mind what she very vaguely remembered but what was mostly lost.  She was especially fascinated with Gary, more so than with me, and this made us smile. 
“You’re so tall and so handsome,” she said to this new man in her living room.  “Now who do you belong to?” she asked him.  Gary would point to me as his wife, and Mom would look at me and say, “So you’re his wife?”  I laughed and wondered why she was surprised.  She wanted to know, over and over, if Gary worked.   “What is it you do?” she would ask.  And over and over, in various ways, he tried to answer her question as simply as possible.  
Later, as we got up to leave, I hugged and kissed this dear woman who is my mother…….though she didn’t know that she is my mother.  That evening, we picked her up for church.  Jeanie had asked me to curl Mom’s hair.  Mom sat in her chair as I carefully rolled her fine, baby-soft hair around the hot curling iron……so fearful of burning her.  I thought of how many times this dear woman had no doubt curled and cut and combed my hair.  Now here I was, doing the same for her…….except she had no idea who this nice woman was who was fixing her hair.  It was a sweet time, mixed with the bittersweet.  My mother and I…………the once cared-for now doing the caring.  
We walked into the church foyer, Mom rolling her walker in front of her.  Her body is more stooped and frail now, which makes her even shorter than she always was.  She motioned for me to lean down close so that she could say something to me.  She pointed to John and said, “Look at that one.  I think I should know him.”  I just smiled as I told her that that one was John…….her son.   The preacher.  And she was surprised and she smiled at that news……….as she has now for months when she is once again told that the preacher is her son.  
John later motioned for me to come over.  He told me that Mom had come over to him, pointed to me, and said to John, “Look at that one.  I think I should know her.”  So we laughed.  Poor Mom.  That one……and that one……and that one.  Who are all these people that I think I should know?  The familiar is now so unfamiliar, yet she is aware that she should know.  
The next day we had a family gathering at Bob and Jan’s house.  It was a wonderful time of talking and laughter, of catching up with each other and enjoying time together.  Mom still asked who that one was or who that other one was, but eventually she just settled in to enjoying the commotion and the conversation.  As the day wore on, I came to the conclusion that Mom doesn’t really even know what the word “son” or “daughter” or “grandchild” means.  I don’t believe the relationship those words conveys really registers with her anymore.  
She, in typical Mom fashion despite her lagging mind, called a little family meeting in order to talk to us about her colitis concerns………though she didn’t refer to it as that.  She just told us that this worries her and she thinks it might be the end of her, but then she showed that spirit she’s always had as she firmly said, “But I’m not going to let it get me down!”  That’s our mother!
We sang hymns, which I want to write more about in another blog.  It was incredibly sweet and touching to all of us.  And before I knew it, I was hugging my mother good-bye and kissing her soft cheek.  She had no clue whom she was kissing or why, but she welcomed the love and she returned it to this woman that she no longer knows.  And she once again noticed Gary before she left to return to her apartment…….that tall, handsome man.  “Now, are you married?” she asked one more time.  We think Mom has her eye on Gary!
My dear little sweet mother.  She doesn’t remember Dad.  At least she is not grieving his death anymore.  None of us can change this disease of Alzheimer’s or the sad effect it has had on her.  She is lively, yet vacant.  She is kind, yet reserved.  She is talkative, yet clueless.  She is aware, yet at a total loss. 
John and I talked on Wednesday night.  He said that Mom is gone.  Yes, the mother that we’ve known and loved is indeed gone.  What made Mom our Mom is forever gone.  We love and honor this dear woman that is in our lives now, and we remember her as Mom.  But she is no longer in that role in our lives.  
Mom said it well, too, when we were visiting her in her apartment.  She was talking about her physical worries, and she said, “I just don’t know why this is all happening……but I know I’m going to a better place.”
John has said that he sees evidence of the Lord in Mom’s life……..of the work of the Holy Spirit……..even when she’s not aware of it.  I saw it then, in this truth that Mom spoke.  Such a blessing!  “I know I’m going to a better place.”  
We have hope, despite the ravages of Alzheimer’s.  And someday, in that better place that Mom talked about, that unfamiliar feeling will be gone……..forever!…….to be replaced with healing and wholeness and love. 
She’ll know us all.  That one…..and that one…..and that one, too. 

What’s So Best


I haven’t been doing much writing lately.  Part of it is that I’ve been very busy.  Gary and I traveled to Ft. Worth for Andrea’s graduation, and then to Topeka to watch Andrew in an NHRA race.  But I’ll admit that another reason I haven’t been saying a lot is that Aaron has taken a lot out of me, and of Gary, as well.  He’s been extra grouchy for a few weeks, and so I haven’t had the energy or the desire to sit down and write. 
He came in the room where I do my quiet time early one morning.  “Are you ready for a good day today, Aaron?” I brightly asked. 
 
“No,” he flatly answered as he turned and walked away.  And that is just how it’s been lately.   It seems that he’s just decided not to have good days. 
Why has he been grouchy?  If only we knew the answer……   Is it medicine related?   One of his new seizure drugs can have irritability as a side effect.  Aaron wrote the book on being irritable, trust me, so I was alarmed when I heard about that possible result of taking this drug. 
Is it seizure related?  He had a seizure episode this past week and since then has been markedly better.  Did the seizures rearrange things in that brain of his and calm him down?  Who knows?
Or is his grouchiness game related?  Since we let him have an old Star Wars game to play again, several weeks ago, his anger episodes have increased.  We can’t help but think it’s partly related to that, but how to get the game back has been an issue.   Then the most amazing thing happened.  When we got back from Topeka, Aaron told Gary that his game wasn’t working right.  Gary sat down to have a look and found that the only thing wrong is that the hologram image in one part of the game was messed up.  The image appears and the game works right, but the image has changed some and most of all…….Aaron can’t see the eyes of the hologram.  To Aaron, this is beyond unacceptable.  If he can’t see the eyes, he refuses to play the game.  He handed the game to Gary when he saw that Gary couldn’t fix it, and that was that.  No more game.  What a tremendous blessing!!
While Aaron was in his prolonged grouchiness he broke some things.  Aaron usually breaks things that are important to him.  In addition to a few items in his room that got banged up, he also broke his watch and his glasses.  The glasses, of course, were the worst.  He’s been wearing an old pair for several weeks as we hope to teach him a lesson.  And he’s not had a watch on his wrist for awhile now.   Will this teach him a lesson?  That’s hard to tell, but we keep trying.  Even with something like autism, we think it’s important to keep trying to reinforce positive behaviors.  And there are some days that I wonder who needs that reinforcement more……Aaron or me.
He was showing improvement last week, slowly, but still had a morning when he was not wanting to go to his day group.  As we pulled up beside his ride in the Quik Trip parking lot, he got out of the van and voiced his anger at me for making him come.  Then he took off for the store instead of getting in the other van.  He walked all the way across the parking lot very slowly, head down and looking as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders.  It was a little funny and a little sad and a lot frustrating.  I have no idea what people all around there thought.  It’s probably good that I don’t know.
Yet that afternoon Aaron bounded in the door after his day group, very excited to tell me about the barbecue in the park that he had gone to that afternoon.  “Mom!  Guess what?  At that grill thing I ate a LOT of hamburgers!!”  I asked him how many he ate and he breathlessly replied, “FIVE!!”  
“Man!!” he continued.  “You can guess I’m stuffed!!”  
And that night, or early morning, he had his seizures and was out of commission for most of that day.  But the next day, Friday, he was happy and was like our old Aaron.  He was bright and funny and wanted to talk a lot.  Even when I went out to the garden for an hour, I looked up to see Aaron coming outside.  The grass was damp, so he just walked to the end of the brick walkway and sat down, where he could still talk and talk to me.  This did my heart as much good as I think it did to Aaron’s.
He had a nice weekend, too, alternating between another game he’s playing and videos he’s watching and going outside and watching taped shows and Wheel of Fortune and even a little racing.  Gary and I also took him to Wal-Mart, where he couldn’t pass up the music display with the buttons that said, “Push”……….because if the button says push, then Aaron will push it, and love every single push.  He also got to pick out a new watch, paid for with his own Christmas money, and is happily wearing it pushed up his arm the way he likes it.  
Aaron’s been watching a movie that I don’t like.  He came into the kitchen on Sunday and found me watching a race clip on my notebook.  He immediately started asking me to watch a clip of his movie, so I suggested that he watch some racing videos….knowing that he wouldn’t want to do that and so I could make my point.  
“You don’t enjoy racing and I don’t enjoy your movie,” I reminded him.
“If I enjoy that,” he asked, “then will you watch my movie?”  
   
I laughed and he continued.  “Can I bargain you?” he excitedly asked. 
There’s Aaron, expressing himself in that unique way of his.  Like when he saw another Eggland’s commercial.  “Mom, Eggland’s say they have the best eggs.  What’s so best about them?”  And I laughed and nearly forgot to answer his question, put in that awesome way he has.
When I took him to his group on Friday, after working in the garden and having Aaron sit there like a Buddha talking to me across the yard, I was so relieved to see him still in a great mood.  I didn’t even mind that he picked out his Elvis tape to listen to in the van.  It’s not my favorite, but Aaron has been so unhappy lately that he hasn’t even wanted to listen to music.  Very unusual!  So when he wanted music, I would not have said no to Elvis………but I did change CD’s when he left the van.  
After I dropped him off, I drove to the eye doctor’s office.  I had decided to go ahead and order him those new glasses.  It was time.  I know that things may change again, and that I may be doing this same thing several months from now.  Picking up the pieces, repairing the damage if we can, and moving forward.  
It’s what all parents do.  It’s what we do often with Aaron.  We can’t always fix him or fix his situations.  Sometimes it works out for the best, like with the unfixable computer game.  Other times we try to teach a lesson in the brokenness, making him wait and hopefully learn, not knowing if he will learn or not.  But we must try. 
And so I come to my day today.  I was in Wal-Mart when my phone rang and seeing the number, I knew that it was Aaron calling from Barb’s phone at Paradigm.  “Mom!” he said.  “You told me to have a good day and so I am!  Except for that girl’s arm that has a red mark.”  
The girl’s arm with a red mark?
And Aaron told me that he got excited and was just playing……….and I know just what that means.  Aaron’s way of playing when he gets too excited is to whack someone with those big beefy hands of his.  He did that, and the poor girl had a red mark to prove it…….and Aaron had to stop having so much fun. 
Then later he got home and was downstairs talking to me when the doorbell rang.  There stood Miss Rosa, who brings him home, and who had a question for Aaron.  She had just gotten a text asking if Aaron had some keys of Barb’s, so there at our door Aaron pulled Barb’s keys out of his pocket……….keys he was just trying to guard from Victor, he said. 
That’s why Aaron and I just drove to Quik Trip to meet Barb and return her keys.  He also showed us the mandarin orange that was in his pocket.  I really do need to frisk him when he comes home.  
And that’s why Aaron and I were listening once again to Elvis.  “Hey Judy?!” Aaron asked as Elvis belted out Hey Jude.  We got to see the baby bulls in the field, and I had the rare pleasure of Aaron putting his arm around my shoulder.  Things I would have missed if Aaron had just had a perfect day and not tried to guard Barb’s keys.  
Well, that’s the way it is.  I can’t fix Aaron much of the time, though there are areas in which I do try. 
I’m just thankful for the days that I can enjoy Aaron……..for seeing the silver lining on the cloudy days.
That’s what’s so best!

Who Did He Ask to Dinner?!


I was a senior at Piedmont Bible College in January of 1978 when this tall, handsome student came walking across the parking lot on a Wednesday evening.  We had a tradition at PBC on Wednesday evenings.  The guys would wear suits and it was a night for asking a girl to dinner.  Girls would sit in the windows watching to see who would walk over to Lee Hall, and if the guy didn’t usually accompany a girl to dinner then the tongues would fly as the girls tried to guess each new young man’s date.
 
On that night the new male student who walked into the sight of all those wondering girls was Gary Moore.  And walking back across the parking lot with Gary was me!  I would say lucky me, but I don’t believe in luck so in keeping with this being Bible college I’ll say that I was blessed!  HaHa!  But I was and I still am today……..blessed to still be walking with this wonderful man, Gary Moore.
My eye had been on Gary ever since I walked into the student center on our small North Carolina campus in January a year earlier and had instantly noticed this new second semester student.  He fit several of my very serious future husband requirements, the first two being:  1) he was tall  2) he was handsome.  Very spiritual, huh?
It was also convenient that I was the student council secretary/treasurer and that I had access to the student mail boxes………in which I inserted special announcements……and in which I also took a look at Gary’s mail to see if he was getting letters from girls.  Yes, I did that.  And yes, he was getting such letters.  So I gave up hope on ever attracting Gary’s attention.  I decided that it would be friendship that we would share.  But I sure did still notice him.
Things happened……I dated another guy during the fall of my senior year.  And Gary kept going home to Bryson City on the weekends….to see girls, I thought, but in reality he was helping out in his home church.  He actually attended a mission’s retreat that Piedmont held at Groundhog Mountain that fall because I encouraged him to come.  I didn’t know that he thought I was wanting him to come so I could spend time with him, so when I drove up with the other guy that I was starting to date, Gary nearly decided that he had already had enough of me.  
My boyfriend and I broke up before Christmas.  And just before I left to go home for the holidays, Gary came in the dining hall and gave me a Christmas stocking!  Except he also gave one to my best friend Janet!!  Now I was confused!  But when I returned from Christmas break, Gary finally asked me to dinner on that Wednesday night……and all the girls sitting in the windows were surprised that it was me walking to dinner with Gary.
We never looked back from that point forward.  Love was blossoming for both of us.  But soon there was a big bump in the road.   A huge bump for me, and could have been for us……..except for the integrity of this man I was getting to know so well.  
I noticed that something weird was going on with my neck.  I couldn’t quite define it but things weren’t feeling right in there at all.  Before long I noticed that my neck was wanting to pull uncontrollably to the right.  I tried to hide it but eventually it became noticeable to everyone.  And the pain became severe.  My dear friend Janet talked to my parents, and I ended up going to different doctors in order to find out what was going on with my muscles.  It was a challenge to finish my last semester of college, especially writing my senior thesis, with my neck pulling and the pain being so bad.  Plus the drugs the doctors put me on were strong…….things like Valium and other calming drugs in an effort to quieten those muscle spasms.
Doctors didn’t have any idea about what was happening to me.  Several blamed stress, so they put me on some pretty strong drugs for that.  Nothing was helping at all.  I walked around most of the time with my right hand raised up to my neck.  Holding the back of my neck helped relieve the spasms a little.  I hung on for as long as I could, finishing my course work and knowing that I could graduate.  But the pain was so strong and the pulling so severe that just before I was to march in our graduation ceremonies I ended up in the hospital. 
 
That was a tough time for me, but it was also a relief to be able to rest.  It was so sad that I didn’t get to march with my class.  I’ll never forget Dr. Drake, Piedmont’s president, coming to my hospital room along with Dean Reinert to present my diploma to me as I lay there in bed.  I think that was a first for them!
Mom and Dad were there as well, worried about me and wondering what was wrong with their girl.  And also there by my side was the man that had come to pick me up for dinner on that Wednesday night four months earlier.  He wore a suit on my graduation day, much like the suit he had worn on our first date, except now he sat on the side of my bed and we both smiled broadly…….just as if I was standing in that auditorium along with the rest of my graduating class to receive my degree.
On a fairly superficial level, my illness was exceptionally hard for me as a young woman.  It changed my appearance, making me look weird as my neck pulled and as I held my right hand around my neck a large part of the time.  I didn’t feel pretty at all.  And pain took a huge toll as well.  It’s hard to be your best or look your best when you’re absorbed in pain.  So on that level alone, I wondered if Gary would stick by me or if he would be turned off.
And what about the future?  We didn’t even have a diagnosis and had no idea what the long term would hold for me……..for my body and my health.  What man would want to venture into that arena?  Gary and I were not engaged……he wasn’t bound to me in any way like that.  Yet there he was, faithful to me with his support and his love and his attention.  He never made me feel weird or ugly or a risk too great to take. 
I moved home to West Virginia to live with my parents, and tried to get well.  Doctors still didn’t know what was wrong.  Gary still wanted to be with me when he could travel from college to visit.  He saw the pain and the awful reactions to drugs and the huge unknown, but he stayed by my side.  And one day he even asked me to marry him!!  I didn’t waste a second before saying yes.  Time and rest helped me get better, but the effects of my illness were still somewhat visible……….and I could definitely feel them.  
We had a beautiful wedding, where I even sang a surprise song to Gary. 
            “God has given you to me, as my loving friend.
              From beginnings love has grown, may its growing never end.
              From beginnings love has grown, may it never end.
              God is joining here today, families and friends.
              Yours are mine and mine are yours, how the richness blends!
              Yours are mine and mine are yours, how the richness blends!
              You are handsome in my eyes, I treasure and adore.
              But my heart determines this, I must love God more.
              Though I love you oh so well, I must love God more.
              I love you where you’re strongest, your strength can help me stand.
              I love you where you’re weakest.
              There I’ll care, I’ll help you there, and give your heart a helping hand.
              God has given you to me, as my loving friend.
              From beginnings love has grown, may it never end.”
So we began our life together.  Today we celebrate 41 years of sharing this journey together and with God.  We have three beautiful children, and a wonderful son-in-law.  We have tons of memories.  We have each other still.
Doctors know now that I have something called Dystonia.  I will always feel the effects of this muscle disease in my neck but I am so very much better than I was back in 1979.  Gary didn’t know this would be the outcome, though.  Yet he loved me regardless, and he showed his strength and integrity when I needed it most.  He’s still doing that today, and I am forever grateful.  
42 years ago I walked across that parking lot with that tall, handsome man.  41 years ago I walked down the aisle to say “I do.”  And I am so thankful that I did!

GODZILLA!


Aaron went to see Godzilla with his day group on Friday.  He loved it, of course.  It’s a typical big monster disaster movie full of excitement and fighting and suspense and noise and water and fire and bombs……perfect for Aaron!  So perfect, in fact, that since he saw it on Friday he has wanted to see it again……with me. 
That is why I made the decision to let Aaron stay home today for a fun day with Mom.  The most fun part for Aaron, of course, is that we went to see Godzilla.  I was happy to do this as I also like disaster movies, up to a point.  I was game.  Plus I knew that school was still in session today, so hopefully when we went to see Godzilla it wouldn’t be very crowded.  That’s in case Aaron yells or laughs or claps or any number of other very annoying crowded theater behaviors he might exhibit.  I have experience.  Too much experience.
When I told him on Monday that he could stay home on Wednesday and that we would go see Godzilla, he was very happy.  And I was in no way surprised when he asked me what time the movie started.  I told him that it started at 12:30, and then as if on cue he asked, “So what time are we leaving?” 
“We’ll leave a little before 12:00,” I told him.
“So what time will that be?” he asked.
I told him I wasn’t exactly sure.   I was trying to stretch him beyond his normal I-have-to-know-an-exact-time way of thinking.  It didn’t work.
I was the one being stretched as Aaron repeatedly asked me what time we would leave.  An EXACT time, Mom!  Don’t you know anything?  
OK, Aaron.  We’ll leave at 5 till 12:00.  He was satisfied.
Then I heard, “So we’re leaving at 5 till 12:00?” an untold number of times.  Seriously.
And this morning, first thing, it was, “Mom, you said we’re leaving at 5 till 12:00.”  He said this as a matter-of-fact statement, but I knew he was also checking to see if the time was the same……..because sometimes he knows that Mom changes her mind.  So it was a question as well as a statement.
I told him yes, that we would leave at 5 till 12:00.  But just to be sure, he later walked into the kitchen and promptly asked, “We’re leaving at 5 till 12:00?”  I told him yes, and then he continued, “I need to take my glasses and my watch to the theater.”  
“Why do you need to take your watch?” I asked.
“To see when the movie starts,” he answered.  “If I don’t have my watch I get impatient.” 
This makes perfect sense to Aaron.
During the morning, he checked in with me several more times.  “We’re leaving at 5 till 12:00?”  I told him yes, but then I had to muddy the water a little by telling him that we might leave a little earlier than that in order to go by Wal-Mart to check on a DVD he wanted. 
Sure enough, it was about 11:40 when I asked him if he was ready to go.  “It’s not 5 till 12:00,” he flatly responded.  
Of course.
But I reminded him about the DVD search at Wal-Mart, so he was agreeable to that plan and off we went, with his glasses on and his watch pushed halfway up his arm in typical fashion.
Soon we were at the theater, tickets purchased as well as a large buttered popcorn and our free water…….and Aaron a little uncertain about sharing his large buttered popcorn with Mom.  The theater was very uncrowded so I was very happy.  Aaron sat down and then put his popcorn on the floor beside him…….away from me.  I didn’t say a word because I knew what he was doing.  He was waiting for the trailers of upcoming movies to finish.  He will not eat popcorn during the trailers.  Then came all the other preliminary stuff about the surround sound, etc……….and still the popcorn sat on the floor.
You do not eat popcorn until the movie starts, silly people.  Popcorn is for the movie……NOT for movie trailers and advertisements and whatever else is on before the movie starts.  He put a napkin on his lap just right…….and some on the empty seat beside him……and still more napkins in his pocket.  Aaron would glance down at the bucket of large buttered popcorn as if to see if it was still where he placed it, but not one kernel went into his mouth until the movie actually began to play.  Then he bent over and retrieved his large buttered popcorn, and grudgingly shared it with me.  We were off and running.
The movie was as I predicted…….loud, exciting, overly dramatic, unbelievable, and just a great old disaster movie.  Aaron’s favorite!  He did very well throughout.  I only had to hush him maybe 10 times.  Very good!
As we left the theater, Aaron pointed to the bathrooms, where he hurried in while I waited for him.  He didn’t use the bathroom, but had to wash his hands……because he had buttered popcorn grease on them, even though he wiped them and his mouth off repeatedly with the huge pile of napkins that he had strategically placed around him.  Doesn’t matter.  He will wash his hands after a movie, do or die.
We discussed Godzilla all the way to the car, and then all the way to CD Tradepost, where I took him to look for the DVD that is on his radar now.  At least we won’t be talking about 5 till 12:00 anymore, I thought.
The DVD wasn’t in stock, so I went ahead and ordered it from a store across town.  They will ship it straight to our house.  Aaron listened to me give our address, and then asked the clerk, “So when will it be delivered?”  She told him in two or three days.
“So what day is that?” he asked me as I stood there paying for it.  I told him it might be Friday or Saturday…….MIGHT!
Here we go, I thought.  We just finished with the 5 till 12:00 business and he’s already on another countdown.  
We got in the van and as I backed up he asked, “So it’ll be here in two days?  Or three days?”
Sigh.
“Will it be Friday, or Saturday?”
Oh brother. 
One thing I do know……it won’t come soon enough!

Lessons From the Little Rose


Gary and I were ready to take Aaron to meet his group last Thursday morning, and then head down to Texas for Andrea’s graduation.  We were right on time as I walked past our thriving Carpet Rose bush and opened the passenger door of the van, ready to climb inside so we could leave.  A flash of red, though, caught my eye and caused me to pause.  I looked down and right away I spied the small red hue, nearly hidden by all the green foliage of the rose bush. 
I leaned down for a better look and there I saw the first little rose bloom of the season.  It was so small and nearly hidden that it was really a miracle that in my rush I even saw it.  The fragile bloom was probably several days old from the looks of it.  Yet I was delighted to see this wee flower, not only for its beauty but also for the sheer delight it brings to look upon God’s design, and to also see that my rose bush is still growing and producing.  
Lately I’ve had some thoughts go through my mind………some thoughts that are unwelcome and honestly, defeating.  Thoughts about what purpose I have in life at this stage………what am I accomplishing that is of any importance or value……..what else should I be doing or could I be doing………..or what should I have done differently in the past.  Sometimes these thoughts can spur me on to action in areas where I need to act, but I know that of late I’ve been discouraged more than spurred to action. 
I think I get caught up in bigness.  The ones who seem to make the greatest impact are the ones who are the most visible, right?  The teachers and the singers and the authors and on and on and on.  Nothing wrong with any of those things.  But what am I doing?  
Today the Lord has been gently reminding me of lessons I say I’ve learned…..but which seem to need repeating in my head and heart over and over.  It’s not the bigness of the act, or the public attention it may garner that is important.  God desires our obedience above all, and for most of us that obedience is in the daily moments of life that come our way…….unannounced and sometimes hardly recognized.
It’s listening to the dental receptionist tell about her sons and what they’re doing in their lives.  It’s thanking the hygienist for her work and telling her she did a good job.  How often does she hear those words?  It’s seeing a fellow mother of special needs sons……yes, more than one……..and standing in the grocery store parking lot under the sun, sharing our concerns and sharing a lingering, needed hug.  It’s showing the elderly woman how to put her grocery cart in the right line and get her quarter back, which meant so much to her.  It’s letting the young woman with only four items go in front in the grocery line, and seeing her deep appreciation for such a small act.   
It’s giving a listening ear to the neighbor whose husband is on hospice care, and then later taking them some homemade rice pudding………seeing their delight and watching her stand at the counter eating a big spoonful as she grinned from ear to ear.  It’s taking the time to enjoy an unexpected visit from an old friend of Andrew’s who unexpectedly stopped by the house.  It’s in the hug of my husband, welcome and loving.  It’s in stopping to listen to Aaron even when I’m tired……….really listening, and relishing the uniqueness that I would have missed if I had hurried on my way.  It’s in giving an ear to a friend’s call, full of frustration and desperation……….though I have no certain advice. 
It’s in finally climbing into bed and thanking God for the day, praying for my children and for others before I fall asleep.  It’s in pausing to recognize God’s leading in this day, when making rice pudding and sitting down for a surprise visit caused my plans to fall by the wayside……..but what a beautiful journey those wayside trips can be!
All of us wake up with a day before us, a day full of opportunity to serve and love and reach out in what seems like the simplest ways.   Just like my little rose shining there nearly hidden underneath all the crowded leaves of the rose bush, so are these basic acts of kindness that come to us in any given day.  Isn’t that what Jesus did?  Reaching out to the common people around him, meeting their needs and loving them in His name.  
That little rose caught my eye and made me pause in a moment of simple joy.  And our little acts of love and help to others can likewise cause the people we encounter to stop, their spirits caught by surprise perhaps by a kindness that will bless them deeply.  
Bigger isn’t necessarily better when it comes to living our daily lives.  God said that obedience is better than sacrifice.   I want to remember the little red rose, out of sight though it was.  I want to remember to be that rose in others lives.  To be a splash of joy, a beautiful color of blessing, in the most ordinary of ways………but the ways that often mean the most.