Exceptions

Yesterday I worshipped next to a dear friend of mine. She is a friendly, bubbly, sweet, kind friend and she is dear to me for many reasons but one of the main ones is because I know her story. She stood next to me yesterday singing praises heavenward while her youngest child fell asleep in her arms. The reality of it caused me to stop and reflect as tears ran down my cheeks because I know how precious a moment I was witnessing. Part of her story is that her arms are without one of her babies because she worships for eternity in heaven and is surrounded, not by my friend's arms, but by all of the heavenly hosts. A pain too deep to understand, a script she would not have chosen, but my friend still worships.

It was later that same day when I put the boys to bed that they shared with me Garrett's distracting behavior during storytime at children's church that morning. As I listened to their take on the events, I felt my faith weakening with every word. Thankfully, Ryan came to my rescue and we got everyone to bed with prayers prayed and songs sung even though my heart was aching. As we returned to the living room and our comfy chairs a few minutes later, Ryan wondered exactly what the boys had said. I couldn't even repeat the story. My heart felt too heavy and defeated.  Our conversation went on in a sweet and sorrowful way where I admitted that I don't love autism and what it has brought to our life all the time. It struck me then how hard it is to live a life of exceptions. Garrett is the exception to every rule. As a whole, I really like rules and I don't like exceptions to rules. I live a fairly black and white life if I can, not perfect, but a life where boundaries are clear, except with Garrett. Autism wasn't in our plan and doesn't fit my mold. There are exceptions to his behavior. There are exceptions to his diet, to his sleep, his dress, his discipline. The parenting book, the living life book we may have written was thrown out the window the day he was born, we just didn't know it yet. And, to be frank, we didn't ask for it. It was not a part of our original script. Heaven knows, I can find the joy in most moments but there are times when I want to shake my fists heavenward and ask why. Is this doubt? Fear? Lack of faith? I don't know. What I call it is honesty. I love Garrett more than I could ever put into words but loving him, raising him can be very hard at times. There are tremendous victories but and there are failures that crush and battles that exhaust. There are worries without answers. For my older boys I can hope and plan for their future but for G we work day by day and experience by experience. Sometimes I feel completely overwhelmed by all of it. I think of the boys' memory verse this month, Luke 16:10-"Whoever can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much." G is much, sometimes too much. What my dear friend went through, losing a child, was much, too much it seemed. I know the Lord never gives us more than he can help us bear but what about the crosses we never wanted to bear? What do we do when we feel like sinking under the waves of life's storms. I think of Peter. Loving his Savior, Peter stepped out of the boat and walked confidently on water toward Jesus until.... What happened in Peter's heart? I'm not completely sure, but for me it might have been that I started thinking too hard. Maybe he realized that it was against the rules to walk on water or that he hadn't planned on all this going down like it was. Maybe he doubted or feared or felt like it was a bit too much this walking on water thing. Whatever happened, Peter started sinking. I am grateful for this part because Peter made a life saving, split second decision when he was in over his head. He looked up. He said, "Lord, save me". When I feel like God has given me too much and I am ready to drown, I too can ask for Him to save me and know that He will. I think that needing rescued is part of His plan sometimes, not mine, but his "good, pleasing, and perfect will".

The reality is that we all go through things that we didn't plan on.  My life is full and my blessings are many but there are always the exceptions. My friend would not have written her story the way that she has lived it. I know that she has shaken her fists and many times wept and pleaded for things that God didn't give her. I have also seen her joy, felt her love, and even relied on her strength from time to time. Knowing her story, reading Peter's plea for rescue, they remind me to keep going. We may not ask for all that we are given but with hands wide open we can accept whatever He has for us. He is the Author. He is the beginning and the end. He is ready, waiting to rescue us and it may even be a part of His plan.