The M&M’s

I was sitting at my desk the other morning when in rushed Aaron.

“Here, Mom!”             

And with that, he reached over to place a handful of M&M’s in a little pile on my desk.  Some stuck to his hand, so he wiggled his fingers to dislodge them as I winced…which of course he didn’t notice.

“Eat them!” he commanded as he stood there waiting for me to obey.

I never know where Aaron’s hands have been.  All I could see in that colorful pile was bacteria of all sorts.  And I’m supposed to put those in my mouth?!

This happens routinely in our home…Aaron sharing his food treasures with us.  And routinely I pray for God’s protection as I put a fake smile on my face and gingerly place the bacteria-laden morsel in my mouth. 

Aaron would not take no for an answer, so in went an M&M.  And Aaron laughed happily as he stood there rubbing those suspicious hands together, totally full of joy as he watched my reaction and then tromped out of the room, mission accomplished.

Thank you, Lord, for this strong immune system that you have given me.

Our day soon began with a visit to his Epileptologist, where Aaron always makes himself quite at home on the exam table and makes the doctor very nervous that he will fall off the table. 

Afterwards, we joined Aaron’s case manager at Carlos O’Kelly’s for his annual Person-Centered Support Plan meeting.  Aaron only loves chomping down on chips and salsa, enchiladas, and of course his “…side salad with NO croutons and TWO ranches!!”  All the talk of his support plan, likes and dislikes, behaviors, goals, and plans are of exactly zero interest to Aaron.  

As we left the restaurant, I asked Aaron if he needed to use the bathroom.  He said no.  So, we zipped into the Dollar Tree nearby for a few items…where Aaron did have a bathroom crisis…and I’ll leave it there.  

Sigh.

We got home in one piece but frayed and frustrated with the situation and with each other.  I wish I could tell you how to handle it all like I did, with grace and supreme patience and amazing kindness.

But I do know that lying is a sin.

Another sigh.

Later, I walked to my desk and saw that little pile of colorful M&M’s.  I sat down and ate a few.

And I remembered this verse:

“Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials.”  (James 1:2)  

Guess what that word “various” means?

Multi-colored.

In just the span of a few hours, Aaron shared himself in several varied ways…multi-colored, you could say.  Some fun…some pleasant…some stressful.

I don’t mean to suggest that living with Aaron is a trial, but sometimes it is.  Any parent/caregiver knows that the days can be long and full of many emotions.

I call it the highs and the lows.

That word “consider” means to make a mental judgment.  So I must, at some point, corral my thoughts and mentally choose to see the trials as having purpose in my life.  

And to choose joy, as this verse says and as I have written about even recently.

“Our Sovereign oversees the trial itself and oversees us IN the trial, so it strengthens and deepens our faith.”   (Daniel Doriani)

I stared down at that little stack of M&M’s after the challenges of this one day.  And I ate some of them…praying again.  

I partake of what Aaron gives to me, in all the colors involved.  

It’s up to me to choose how I respond, especially in my long-term endurance of daily life with Aaron.

Two days after our full day of ups and downs, Aaron and I stood in the home of a dear Meals on Wheels client.  Aaron began digging into his shorts pocket.  Soon he pulled out an M&M.  

ONE lone M&M.

“Here!” he excitedly said to Edna.  “I brought you this!”

And he laid the one little M&M on the table beside her chair.  Just one.

She laughed with delight and thanked him profusely while he grinned from ear to ear, rubbing those hands of his together in pure joy.

Then yesterday, while Gary sat beside my desk and we talked, he looked down at the floor.

“What’s that?” he asked as he pointed to the floor.

There, beside a chair, was one little green M&M.  It had probably fallen off Aaron’s sticky hand.

Evidence that Aaron had been there, leaving me with his heartfelt gift.

The evidence of Aaron’s place and impact in our lives is scattered here and there over every page all through these years.  

One little piece, placed here and put there.

Multi-colored.

Designed by God.  

Producing a beautiful picture of joy and grace if I but choose to see it in that light.  

The Bitter Root

Several years ago, I had an experience with a small weed in one of my front yard flower beds. 

 I had become so busy with my other gardening that I had put off the task of pulling that little weed.  It didn’t seem like such a big deal. The outward growth, though, hid what was happening under the ground, out of sight.

 Here is what I wrote:

One hot day as I worked among my flowers, I looked down and saw that this little weed had grown significantly. Still, it wasn’t huge but it sure was larger than I had noticed before. Silly me, I thought. Why have I been waiting to pull this once-little weed? I just need to get rid of it now, I reasoned. I reached down and gave the weed a pull, and nothing happened. I pulled a bit harder, and still the weed didn’t budge. I gripped harder on the small growth, gave a firmer yank, and still it sat firm in its place in the dirt. This small, harmless weed was certainly being stubborn! It wasn’t letting go of its foothold very easily at all! I was so deceived by the small growth that I could see that I was in turn shocked by its apparently deep growth in the soil. I once again got a firmer hold, jiggled the weed back and forth, pulled with all my might and finally out came the root. What a surprise! The root was very long – much longer in proportion to the rest of the plant. While I had procrastinated about getting rid of the little weed or argued with myself about how harmless the little weed was, this small weed was growing a deep root system that could have damaged or killed my pretty Coreopsis. There was no excuse for my neglect – a wise gardener knows better.

Sometimes I let attitudes fester in my heart…attitudes that are, quite frankly, sin.  It’s easy to say, “Well, now, you have every right to feel that way.  Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

And every time I give myself that little pep talk, I am letting that root grow deeper and deeper in my life until it’s not so little anymore.

I have been keenly aware of this fact as Gary and I care for Aaron.  Usually after a stressful period, often involving Aaron’s anger, we find ourselves talking together as we try to understand him and handle his issues in the right way.  So often, solutions are hard to come by.  The effects of living long-term with him spill over into every area of our lives.  We go back 17 years to the time we were making decisions about his future.  

Did we make the right choices?  We were headed in one direction and the doors closed.  Or did they?  

I am constantly reminding myself that all those years ago we were seeking God’s will and we were desiring to walk in that path of God’s choosing for us and for Aaron.  I must consciously trust God today with our past decisions…decisions that touch us in ways today that we never dreamed.

The impact of having Aaron with us now affects our “golden years” in so many unforeseen ways.  We know that future decisions will be upon us some day, but there is a bigger issue for me right now.

That issue is bitterness.  How easy it is to find ourselves saying, “If it wasn’t for Aaron, we could do this or that, go here or there, etc., etc., etc.”  

And soon my eyes are on the hindrances of life with Aaron rather than the joy of being in God’s will…of doing His work within the walls of our home…of loving Aaron and caring for him.

We are physical creatures.  We get tired.  We get discouraged.  

And sadly, we compare ourselves to others in those vulnerable moments when we’re scrolling through social media or having conversations.

Before I know it, the bitter root is taking deeper root in my heart.  And while I understand that my feelings are normal, I also know that I cannot let myself perch there.  

I must not settle for a life of bitterness.

These verses spoke to me so deeply this morning:

“O Lord, lead me in Your righteousness because of my foes; make Your way straight before me.”   (Psalm 5:8)

My foes…my enemies…are those attitudes within me that contradict what God says is right.  A big one is this issue of bitterness over the result of God’s past leading.  

We trusted Him then to put us on the right path, and so we can trust Him now to provide all we need to face the results of walking on that path.

I need God’s leading and His righteousness to overcome that bitter root that seeks to take hold.  Here is the result of trusting Him:

“Let all who take refuge in You be glad; let them ever sing for joy; and may You shelter them, that those who love Your name may exult in You.”  (Psalm 5:11)

Paul told the believers in Ephesus that through the power of the Holy Spirit, they could be rooted and grounded in love.  

Not rooted in bitterness but rooted in love…the love of Christ seen in their lives.

I must stop and check where I am allowing my roots to grow.  We all do, right?  We have so many hurts in life…so many stresses that pile up around us.  

O Lord, lead me in Your righteousness.  Do not allow me to lead myself into bitterness.  

I love this old hymn.  The lyrics speak well to each of us, wherever we are in our life of following Christ.

He leadeth me, O blessed thought!
O words with heav’nly comfort fraught!
Whate’er I do, where’er I be
Still ’tis God’s hand that leadeth me. 

Refrain:
He leadeth me, He leadeth me,
By His own hand He leadeth me;
His faithful foll’wer I would be,
For by His hand He leadeth me. 

Sometimes ’mid scenes of deepest gloom,
Sometimes where Eden’s bowers bloom,
By waters still, o’er troubled sea,
Still ’tis His hand that leadeth me. 

Lord, I would place my hand in Thine,
Nor ever murmur nor repine;
Content, whatever lot I see,
Since ’tis my God that leadeth me. 

And when my task on earth is done,
When by Thy grace the vict’ry’s won,
E’en death’s cold wave I will not flee,
Since God through Jordan leadeth me. 

(Joseph H. Gilmore)

My Choice

Well, I can tell you right now that this blog subject won’t be what some people think it’s going to be.  I just realized how this title sounds as I typed it.  Hmmmm…

Anyway, let me pop some bubbles right at the beginning by sharing this sign that is hanging directly above my quiet time/study desk where I sit nearly every morning, coffee in hand and Bible open.

It reminds me that every day I have a choice to make.  Throughout my day I can choose how I will allow the events of the day to affect me. 

And no single person creates more events in my life than Aaron.

In one sole day you might very well find me laughing, crying, yelling, sighing, worrying, cringing, thanking, guessing….

That’s just the condensed version.

 Last week on our Wal-Mart shopping trip, Aaron took off at a fast trot to go check out the candy and nut aisle.  

“Don’t run!” was all I managed to remind him before he was out of earshot.  

I hurriedly completed my shopping.  I then took off at my own fast trot to see what was occurring on aisle 20.

I rounded the corner to this scene.

Add blushing to the list above.

There sat Aaron cross-legged on the floor as he searched the very bottom shelf for something.  Red Hots, I soon learned.  Beside him he had stashed jelly beans, peanuts, and cashews that he hoped I would buy for him.  Also beside him was a very kind associate named, very appropriately, Joy.  

Joy had found Aaron sitting on the floor.  Being concerned, she walked to Aaron and asked if he needed help.  Boy, was Aaron glad to see her!  Usually when he needs (or just thinks he needs) help, he barges toward an associate and pretty much yells, “HEY!!”  

I’m usually found nearby, or a few steps behind, hissing, “AARON!  Don’t say HEY!!  It’s rude!”

By this time, said associate is typically a mix of alarmed and annoyed which soon is replaced by amused. Maybe more amused by the look on my face rather than by Aaron’s?  Very likely.

Back to the candy aisle.  Joy soon found Red Hots up on the very top shelf, which gave Aaron much joy.

Me too.  Oh, my joy didn’t come from the Red Hots.  My joy came from Aaron being so unabashedly Aaron. Aaron’s going to do what Aaron’s going to do, no matter how many times I correct and redirect and follow him around hissing out instructions that he mostly ignores.  

I thought it was just the most perfect thing that this very sweet associate’s name is Joy.  I do believe that God was smiling.  

And again, I was too.  Others around us were very understanding as they waited or turned around.  Aaron has lots of lessons to teach everyone around him, like it or not.

I posted a little piece about this on Facebook and our neighbor across the street sent me this picture.

Here’s what she said:  “Seeing your Facebook post about Aaron sitting on the floor in Wal-Mart reminded me that I took this the other day.  He was excited to come tell me something.  He really does bring joy.  It’s always fun to hear what he’s going to say!”

Aren’t we very blessed?  Our neighbors all around us are great with Aaron.  

I thanked Gina for being so good to listen to Aaron.  I also reminded her that because of this, Aaron will just keep going over.  HaHa!

Well, we had lots of joy going on and it was really sweet.  I was reminded of this verse:

            “A joyful heart is good medicine…”.  (Proverbs 17:22)

And that’s a very good thing because I know my blood pressure was getting somewhat high on Aisle 20.    

It’s Aaron

After being out of town for several days, Gary and I returned on Monday afternoon.  Aaron was happy, happy to have us home.  But by Tuesday morning he was wishing that we were gone again, and our friends were back at the house watching him.  Re-entry to real life is often difficult for Aaron.  

And he is not the only one who finds it difficult!

Aaron was belligerent on Tuesday when faced with the reality of returning to his day group.  He was very verbal and confrontational.  It’s the side of Aaron that tests my mettle to the core.

It’s hard not to respond in kind to him.  Sometimes I do say more than I want to say, sadly.  As we drove to his day group, I really laid into him.  Not in a damaging or harmful way, but in a truthful way about how his words hurt us and why.  There are concepts that he needs to hear about how to love us even when he is angry.  How to recognize and acknowledge all we do for him instead of thinking only of himself. 

The night before, I had watched a video with him about a triangle UFO.  It’s the last thing I wanted to do.   He had called us repeatedly while we were gone, talking about this UFO video he wanted me to watch with him.

“MOM!!” he exclaimed, “it’s a triangle UFO video that’s 44:42.  Would you watch 44:42?”

Those are the minutes and seconds that he memorizes on each YouTube video that he watches, by the way.

He was ecstatic that I agreed to look it up and then to actually sit through 44:42.

So, on that next morning full of anger, he was full of remorse as I spoke truthfully to him.  As we neared his day group, he spoke softly.

“I’m glad you looked up the triangle UFO video.”

I was quiet.

“I’m glad you looked it up,” he repeated several more times before getting out of the van.

It was Aaron’s way of trying to say he was sorry.

A few hours apart worked wonders for both of us.  He was very happy when I picked him up and I was responsive once more.  I took him to the lab for some bloodwork, where he had to be poked in each arm and he flinched…something he rarely does.  My heart went out to him.  He deals with so much, even more internally in that brain of his than outwardly sometimes.

The technician gave him the plastic tourniquet to keep.  He was delighted.  I watched him walk around WalMart later, both arms with band aids and the tourniquet dangling from his fingers as if it was a prized possession.

I thought of how those small gestures…those items insignificant to us…bring him such joy. 

And it hit me that there are countless times that the seemingly insignificant, daily actions of Aaron bring us such joy…of how much I need to focus on those moments rather than the outbursts that bring hurt.

It’s Aaron at Walmart trying to hide from me because he has BOTH crescent rolls and biscuits in his hand that he wants me to buy.

It’s Aaron sitting on the floor of the store, totally oblivious to anyone around him as he checks out the peanuts on the bottom shelf.

It’s Aaron hardly able to wait until he could show me how much his sunflowers had grown while we were gone.

It’s Aaron helping clean under the kitchen table after supper.

It’s Aaron telling me he took his snacks to the snack drawer before bed.

It’s Aaron thrilled to pieces that I let him buy TWO boxes of Texas Toast.

It’s Aaron loving to do science experiments.

It’s Aaron super excited about his new volcano lamp.

It’s Aaron overjoyed because he won this light-up bouncy ball in Bingo, which he took today to show all our Meals on Wheels clients.  

It’s Aaron sitting alone in the mulch, breaking pieces into a container the same way he has done since he was a little boy.  There goes my heart.

It’s Aaron’s unique sense of style, unaffected by current trends or other’s opinions.

It’s Aaron’s unique impact on my life that I want to treasure and relish each day, even despite the hard times.  

After The Storm

Two nights ago, I awoke to bright lightning flashing outside our window.  Then came the crashing thunder.  Two hours later, we had a repeat as another storm roared through.

A few hours later, the sun was shining as I looked out my favorite window.  The view was so beautiful.  The leaves on our huge oak tree looked crisp, the grass was so green, and the sky was beautiful with unthreatening clouds.

Even though the storms earlier were loud and a little scary, the benefits were well worth the dark experience of the night.  We need the rain.  And I was so blessed by the very pretty view that morning.

So often, the aftermath of a storm carries with it refreshment and joy.

The same is true in the life of a believer.

We don’t often understand this side of heaven just why we go through trials of life.  But what we do know and understand is this:

“…I am the Lord and there is no other, the One forming light and creating darkness, causing well-being and creating calamity; I am the Lord who does all these.”   (Isaiah 45:6-7)

These promises to Israel continue:

“For thus says the Lord, just as I brought all this great disaster on this people, so I am going to bring on them all the good that I am promising them.”   (Jeremiah 32:42)

The God of Old Testament Israel is our God today, and His character and purposes have not changed.  He has a reason for every circumstance and event in the life of those who know and follow Him.

“And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose.”   (Romans 8:28)

There is so much work that God wants to do in us.  Even Jesus learned obedience through the things which He suffered.  (Hebrews 5:8).  How much more do I need to learn the same?

Let me close with sharing one recent experience.  We were having a particularly rough behavior evening with Aaron.  We couldn’t understand why.  Then after supper, while I was at the kitchen sink and Aaron was a few feet away, he suddenly went into a seizure.  These drop seizures are both terrifying and dangerous.  He falls like a tree and has been injured several times over the years…staples, stitches, a lost tooth, CAT scans to check for concussions, and so forth.

Because I was so near and heard the seizure start, I was able to turn to him and grab him as I yelled for Gary.  I lowered Aaron to the ground as he fell while Gary ran in and was able to help.

Later, feeling depleted and very emotional, I sat in a chair near Aaron as he slept and recovered.  And I prayed.  I was able to practice what God has taught me over the years.

“Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body; and be thankful.”   (Colossians 3:15)

I was able to be thankful…thankful that I was near Aaron when the seizure started…that Gary was able to help…that Aaron was not injured…and that later he was his happy self again.

Honestly, I don’t say, “I’m so happy that Aaron has seizures!”

No.  But I can, because of what I know about God, be thankful for both the ways that God takes care of Aaron and for all that God has taught me over the years as I have learned to completely trust Him with this son whom we love so much.

It’s like looking out that window after the storm and seeing that the storm has brought to me another layer of growth and beauty despite the fear and struggles.

I pray the same for each of you today as you gaze out the windows of your life at the works that God has done because of, and after, the storms.  

The Reluctant Uncle Aaron

You can probably tell from the title that not a lot has changed in Aaron’s attitude about being Uncle Aaron.  

Sigh.

Aaron will still talk it to death, this idea of Uncle Aaron.  Like the day we were chatting with someone.

“My sister had a nephew!!” he suddenly exclaimed.

“Ummmm…your sister had YOUR nephew, Aaron,” I corrected.

Can’t have that unclear fact just hanging in the air, right?

The reasons for Aaron not being thrilled about his little nephew continue to mount.  To many people, the idea of not wanting to meet this sweet little guy just doesn’t make sense.  

But when you understand all the layers that make up Aaron, then it does compute.

Aaron does not like to travel.  Leaving his normal behind at home is a huge stretch for him.  He had adjusted pretty well to being at his sister’s house when we would travel there before all this Uncle Aaron business.  Andrea and Kyle had an extra bedroom that Aaron used, where he could escape to read or play a game or listen to his music during the day.  That room is now Ryker’s nursery. 

We were planning a trip with him in April, but we knew we needed to tell him about this not-so-small detail.  That, and the fact that we planned to fly, was a deal breaker for Aaron, Uncle or not.

Ryker had taken over Aaron’s room, usurping Aaron’s place in their home.

Then there is all this baby-talk silliness that Aaron hears when we facetime with his nephew.  I was having a Gramoo moment with little Ryker one day, speaking with that special baby voice that we all know.  Aaron was standing behind me.  

Softly under his breath I heard him say, “You’re weird.”  

It hit me that we have another element of just how huge this is for Aaron.  He does not like any talking that he considers unusual or, as he often says, is weird.  

Baby talk from Gramoo is most very definitely…weird.

So Ryker, in Aaron’s mind, is responsible for this weirdness. 

We often find ourselves, or others, saying, “If Aaron just…”. 

If Aaron just this or if Aaron just that.  

But Aaron doesn’t JUST do anything outside of his norm very easily.  Autism rules his world.  He can’t tell you a thing about what autism is, but his life shows you many things that autism does…how it affects every facet of his life.  

We think little Ryker would get a big kick out of Aaron, especially the way Aaron runs his fingers together over and over when he talks.  We have told Aaron over and over how much his nephew would love Uncle Aaron, but Aaron is still unmoved.  

Aaron does often smile when he sees pictures and videos of Ryker.   When Aaron plays a Nintendo game he has about taking care of babies, he names his baby Ryker.  All these signs are encouraging.

But the hardest part for Aaron, and the saddest for all of us, is that Aaron wonders about his place now in our family.  This little interloper has come in and is, to Aaron, a competitor for our love.

We have had many conversations with Aaron about how nothing has changed as to how much we love him, and always will.

We have explained how hearts grow as a family grows…how we have room in our hearts for both Aaron and Ryker.  

“You mean I’m not being pushed out of the love?” Aaron asked after one such conversation.  

And my growing heart hurt for Aaron, for his inability to process all this change and for his fear of being replaced by his little nephew.  

It’s also been a lot for Gary and me to process and understand, to accept and to not be angry or bitter.  

We have our moments, our ups and downs with all of it, wishing that we could just be a normal family.  

Yet we also see God’s hand of grace in our lives and have learned to continue to trust His plan in giving us Aaron.  

I keep going back to the verse that God gave me the morning after Andrea and Kyle shared with us their wonderful news about a coming grandbaby.

            “…we have fixed our hope on the living God…”  (I Timothy 4:10)

I knew then that we would have some struggles, but I never knew just how many there would be.

But God knew.  

And I DO know that His knowing hand is all I need to know.

Ms. Edna’s Pillow

Aaron and I have a client on our Meals on Wheels route named Edna.  She is such a delight every single week.  And she takes great delight in Aaron, evidenced in her wide-eyed attention to every word he says.

Last week, Edna had a special gift for Aaron.  She leaned down to pick up a small and very pretty pillow.

“Here, Aaron,” she said, “I have something for you.”

She held the pillow for him to see.  Then she proceeded to point to each letter.

“This is an L,” she said as she showed him the first letter.

“This in the middle is an O,” she said, “and next is a V, and right here is an E.”

She stopped and smiled broadly at Aaron.

“It spells LOVE,” she finished.  

She let me snap their picture, giving me permission to share it.

Now, I don’t know about you, but right away I knew that the word on this pillow was not the word LOVE but was instead the word HOME.

I’m not sure if Edna really thought the word was LOVE or not.

I suspect, though, that Edna didn’t know Aaron can read.  I think she wanted him to believe that the word was LOVE because she wanted to show Aaron that she loves him, which is so precious.

I just held my breath, though, hoping that Aaron would not correct her.

I ran to the van to grab my phone and take some pictures.  I came back into the house to find Aaron talking to Ms. Edna about the planet Mercury.  

I figured he had not corrected her spelling error since he was more interested in having a captive…though hard of hearing…audience who would smile and nod at all the planet Mercury data and details. 

I breathed a huge sigh of relief as we drove away.

“Edna is real nice who lives on ______ Street,” Aaron commented.  

I smiled at his phrasing and attention to detail, being sure to include her street name.

And I smiled because he had not corrected Ms. Edna, allowing her to have her joy.

But later, as we returned to the van after another delivery, I held the pillow up.

“Hey, Aaron,” I asked, “what word do you see on this pillow?”

“Home!” he exclaimed without missing a beat.  🙂 🙂

As soon as we got HOME with the LOVE pillow, Aaron showed it to Gary.  Then I asked him if he wanted me to put it in his favorite family room chair.  Aaron was happy with that idea.

So, there it sits now, every day…reminding me each time I see it that really, HOME is LOVE.  

And so is Ms. Edna.

Act Happy, Mom!

Over the years of blogging about our life with Aaron, I have sought to inform and educate others about the complexities of autism.  There are so many parts and pieces to autism…so many ways that Aaron’s life, and therefore ours, is affected by how autism makes him function.

Oh, if you only knew how many times I have thought or even asked this question of Aaron:   “Can’t you just…….?”  

Fill in the blank.

I have even had that question asked of me concerning Aaron.

“Can’t you do something with Aaron?!”

Or this one:  “Have you thought about….?”

Or:  “Have you tried….?”

Now, I do not mind helpful advice or constructive criticism.  However, one must be careful to truly understand a condition before offering advice on handling that condition.

Even Gary and I, with our years of experience, can at times find ourselves floundering amid Aaron’s stubbornness about certain situations.  

Aaron is very wrapped up in his own comfort and routine, sometimes to the detriment of everyone around him.  Anger on his part can set in quickly when his perceived needs are not being met in the way that he wants them to be met.  

It’s narcissism at its finest…or not…but is born out of Aaron’s deep-seated requirements of life, not out of pure selfishness.  Some incidents seem incredibly selfish, though, and there are times to handle that situation.

Such was the case one evening not long ago.  I was preparing a meal for supper when Aaron came into the kitchen and asked what we were having.  The meal wasn’t one of his known favorites.  And he let it be known right away that he was having none of it.

I did not budge when he asked if he could have something else to eat.  I reminded him that I do not run a restaurant and that he could eat what we were eating.  I told him I knew he would like it if he just gave it a try.

He was most unhappy!  

After several trips into the kitchen, where he angrily informed me that he hated that food and would NOT eat it, I knew that nothing I said was going to turn him around.  In fact, any words from my mouth just added fuel to the flame.

This is when I have learned to shut down and no longer respond to anything Aaron says.  I do not talk to him or respond to him.

And he detests that.  It makes him very uncomfortable when Mom doesn’t talk to him, but the silence is the best way I have found to defuse him and to show him that I am done with this scene.

As supper was nearly ready, he began to follow me around, talking a lot and hoping for a response from me.  Finally, he asked a question that needed an answer, so I responded in a very flat voice.  Aaron knows that this voice of Mom’s is still an indication that he has crossed the line. 

“Mom!” he urgently said, “you should answer like you’re happy that I’m telling you!!”

I had to smile at that one and was glad that my back was to him.

But you see, Aaron is clueless about how his treatment of us affects us.  It’s good for him to see the effect in a tangible way, as in my silence and lack of enthusiasm.

He did eat a little dinner with us, and we were able to talk to him some about his attitude.

Then later, Gary and I slipped out to the porch for a little time together.  We both needed a breather.

But we weren’t stealthy enough, for Aaron heard us and soon darted out the door and made himself right at home with us.  There he sat, seemingly oblivious to what had happened earlier, all primed and ready for a long talk with his captive audience.

Of course, he didn’t talk about his earlier behaviors.  He didn’t talk about his feelings, and he most definitely did NOT talk about our feelings.

Aaron wanted to fill our ears with his latest discoveries from reading his book on UFOs.  He wanted to talk and talk and talk about Area 51, asking tons of questions and waiting for our answers.  

Ah, Aaron…slipping into his comfort zone and unaware of the fact that this is not our comfort zone at all.  

Such is the give and take of living with autism.  My silence had pushed Aaron out of his comfortable place.  Now his talk of aliens and UFOs and Area 51 showed us that Aaron was ready to get back to normal…his normal, that is.

And yet his normal has in a strange way become our normal, too.  We know that Aaron is happy again when his conversation turns in these strange ways.

I guess Gary and I have become a little strange ourselves sometimes.  

And strangely enough, we didn’t have to act happy.  

We truly were just as happy as little aliens in a UFO!

Complaining in the Rain

It’s been terribly dry here in Kansas for way too long.  The wells out in our “used-to-be-country” neighborhood are running very low.  Some have dried up.  Some of the ponds used for cattle are just puddles now.  And the wheat crop is predicted to be the poorest in 60 years.

Therefore, I was happy to hear a low rumble of thunder early this morning.  As I sat on our patio and finished my quiet time, the sky began to darken.  I was very thankful for the rain that began to fall.  It was a gift from God!

Aaron was out of bed not long after and he sat with me to enjoy the rain as well.  Soon we were both ready to head out the door for our Meals on Wheels delivery.  The once gentle rain was now a downpour.

“Well,” I told Aaron, “we really need this rain so I’m not going to complain about it.”

We picked up our meals, loading them into the van as the rain came down and our clothes began to get wet.  At our first house, I opened the side van door and bagged the food.  Rain was a cold presence on the back of my shirt as I tried to lean in the van.  Aaron had already run to the client’s door, so I juggled the bag of food and my large umbrella, getting even wetter.

We chatted a minute with our friend, Aaron crunched in the corner of the small porch under a tiny awning and me under the umbrella.  Rain washed over us again as we got in the van, feet now soaked from the standing water.

As we backed out of the driveway, I happily made a little rhyme.

“Oh, the rain is a pain but I’m not going to complain!” I sang to Aaron.

Amazingly, he tolerated my silliness and off we went to the next house.  More rain, this time with some mud from the unpaved road as well as huge drops of water landing on us under the very low hanging branches at her uncovered door…branches that caught my umbrella and made it useless.

“This is great!” I exclaimed as we handed her the food.  “We do need the rain!  See you next week!”

By the fifth house, the rain was coming down even harder.  We ran up the wheelchair ramp, where our client was already at her door.  She was taking the dog bones that Aaron handed her for her two dogs.  I handed her the rather soggy bag of food and asked her how she was doing.

“I’m doing just fine,” she said, her face glowing with peace as she sat there in her wheelchair.  

She looked then at Aaron.

“Thank you so much for the dog bones,” she told him.  “My dogs love you for that.”

Aaron beamed.  Then she handed him one of the bones so that he could give it to her rambunctious dog himself.   She smiled as much as Aaron as he so excitedly watched the dog eat his bone.  

“Thank you and God bless you,” she said as we turned to leave.  I noticed how pretty she looked…how content despite her situation.  

At the next house we got to see our friend who had a serious fall a couple months ago.  She has been in the hospital and in rehab, and today was the first time we have been able to see her since her accident.  

Her smile was huge as she greeted us.  I wanted to talk about how she is doing but she wanted to focus on Aaron, hearing all about his recent seizure fall.  I finally managed to ask about how she’s doing, and she too said that she was getting along fine as she downplayed all that she has been through.  She is a sweet believer, and her joy is evident.

My joy was getting harder to muster as we went once more out into the rain.

“Whew!” I said, “I’m getting tired of this rain.”

“But I’m glad we’re getting the rain,” I quickly added as I remembered my earlier determination to be thankful.

My heart felt that little pinch of the Holy Spirit reminding me of just how much this morning is a picture of my life.

Oh, it’s easy to be all spiritual and thankful while I’m sitting on the patio, protected from the rains of life.  I can be an observer and have all the answers with all the right verses and attitudes as long as I’m not actually getting wet.

But let me step out into the storm and see what happens.  Getting wet and cold and muddy can quickly begin to take a toll on my patio attitude.  Soon I’m not so thankful for the rain that I had earlier said I needed.

The splashing of life’s trials has a way of diminishing my once-strong faith.

I feel cold.  Tired. 

And the path can make my feet muddy.  

Misery sets in, no matter how much I said I needed this weather sent from God.

No matter how much I quote Romans 8:28.

And while I may not be actively shaking my fist at God, I find that the flame of faith and joy in my heart is flickering in the rain.

It’s difficult to stay strong and positive in the downpours, especially prolonged storms that have no foreseen solution or resolve.

Honestly, I have been struggling some with Aaron issues over the past few months. Feeling discouraged more than I should.

“Lord!  I know I said that I need whatever you send, and that I can trust you.  But I’m getting tired and wet and muddy and uncomfortable!”

Yet the Lord, in His patience, used my experience this morning to prod my heart.  

And He used the most surprising people to touch my soggy spirit…people who have every reason to be extremely tired of the rains in their lives.

“Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice! 

 Let your gentle spirit be known to all men.  The Lord is near.  

Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication WITH THANKSGIVING let your requests be made known to God.

And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”

Philippians 4:4-7