The bee sting

I have been asked before and it happened again recently. Someone asked me a question, a well-meaning, slightly personal question and it was whether I take medication. No, they didn't mean it as funny. They were serious. It was during a conversation about a bee sting. Just a tiny little poke from a tiny little bee that was messing up my life. Of course, a bee sting is a not a big deal except when it happens to my little Garrett. It ruins that day and it ruins the next, and the next, and the next, until it heals. How annoying! I was describing this to a few of my friends. I was laughing, instead of crying, about the tantrums and screaming and fighting and testing that we were living through because G had been stung a few days before. One of friends simply asked how do I do it? It struck me as funny. I don't drink, except too much coffee. I don't take medication, except an occasional ibuprofen. I do something different. Something more powerful and harder and sweeter and simpler. I laugh and I smile and I thank my Jesus.

Don't we all know too well the feeling of defeat? The belief that we can't do it. That it's just too much. I know it. I live with it some days. There are the mornings where my little man climbs into my bed and asks for his milky juice in a tone that tells me that the day is going to be long and hard. There are moments when I walk away or take a very real deep breath because it's all I can do. We all feel and know personally what panic feels like as it wraps itself around our hearts. There are many ways to combat that enemy but for me it is finding the joy. I say that to my boys a lot and it always serves to remind me as well. I often, in their and my moments, when we just want to cry and scream and vent all that yuck inside, will say, "find the joy, guys". This week as the bee sting dominated our household I had to find the joy. I remember specifically driving home from school one day, with my Garrett wailing in the backseat, naming the joys and the biggest one was that Jesus knew my tears. None of the people driving past, not the other moms who looked on me with pity as I man handled a screaming kindergartner into my car, not even Garrett, knew my tears, but Jesus did. That thought made me smile and before I knew it I was laughing at the irony of a bee sting being such a powerful influence and how frustrating and hilarious that was. Let me tell you, there is nothing like the joy the Lord to combat anxiety. 

 I recently heard a podcast that challenged the listener to find in our toughest battles how God can be glorified. How can God be on display in autism? That's a tough question when I'm in the battle, when the bee is stinging, but really, it's the obvious. It's the love that exists and overwhelms the ugly. It's the giving thanks, celebrating victories, and choosing to laugh instead of cry. That's where God is displayed and it is the light that I shine often for Him. God will always make Himself known, sometimes we just have to try a little harder. Sometimes, we feel like we want to quit or we feel like we are loosing our battles. Those feelings are real and legitimate but God has hidden His joy somewhere, we just have to seek it out. There are times when I hunt it down like a crazy lady because I know it is all that will get me through. It a world where anxiety and stress and failure are so common, there is no better way to display Jesus than with His joy.

Yes, my life is stressful and if I needed medication or counseling, I would be grateful that God has made them available for me. For now, though, it is enough if I can just find the joy. I will dig in and laugh out loud as often as I can. When I need to cry, I will, but then I will move on and enjoy the comfort of my Jesus. There is a scripture in Psalms that says, "You have taken away my clothes of mourning and clothed me with joy." Like picking out what to wear for the day, wearing joy is a choice I make. I choose joy, over bee stings, over tantrums, over panic. A nice big serving of gladness, piled high with hope and topped with a dollop of laughter. That's my joy.

Best supporting role goes to.....

We live a crazy life. On any given day you could find our dog eating our mail, our youngest son tying himself to the neighbor's porch, our middle son clad head to toe in lime green, a cackle of boys in the side yard, and Ryan in black dress socks and crocs pitching to them. This is us. Yes, we're crazy. I often say that our life is like a sitcom that anyone would love to watch because it isn't real life. The only thing is, it is our real, everyday life. The nutty part is that we love our crazy life most of the time. 

This past week was parent teacher conferences and an IEP meeting for Garrett. Now a parent teacher conference for a special needs child is not where you go in and wait for them to tell you what a good reader your child is and what a joy he is to have in class. We knew it would be different. We knew there would be the good and the bad but what we didn't expect blew me away. As we sat first in his special Ed class and listened to the teacher and aides, I was excited to hear how well they were understanding my little man. They saw his strengths clearly. They saw his struggles and they genuinely wanted to help. They weren't offended by his yelling at them. They didn't care that he asks everyday about the fire drill. They complimented his skill of verbalizing what he was feeling. They wanted to help deal with his struggle of noise control. They laughed at his obsession with riding the bus. They find joy in giving him "bear hugs". I didn't expect them to be "ok" with his quirks but they embraced them and loved him because of his individuality. 

As we waited for our turn in his regular ed classroom, we both wondered aloud what we would hear there. Once again, we were pleasantly surprised. One of the first things that his teacher said was how much she enjoys bantering with G. She said, "I totally jive with Garrett".  I could have hugged her! She told story after story where all Ryan and I could say was, "yep, that sounds like him". She was fine that he announces himself when he enters a room. She wants to help him increase his focus instead of criticizing his lack of it. She recognized his need for control and predictability and she explained how she gently helps him adapt as necessary.  She explained how she is working with him to not feel left out but fully engaged in every aspect of school. She told us his favorite songs and laughed at how he tries to give everyone, including himself and her, time on the wall at recess. In just a few short weeks these lovely ladies met and fell fast for my crazy little man! What more could I have asked for?

The next day, after the IEP meeting, one of the main takeaways for me was that from his teachers, to his speech therapist, to his principal, Garrett spends his school day with people who like him just as he is and want to help him continue to grow and achieve. They weren't critical or negative. They laughed with us and shared with us and joined with us for the sake of our son.They discussed ways to help him socially, emotionally, and physically adapt to this new phase of his life. It reminded me that prayers are answered and that God knows what my kids need more than I do. I was very hesitant to even send Garrett to school and if I hadn't he would have missed having these wonderful people walking this new road with him.

Raising, loving, living with a child who has special needs is one of the toughest things I have ever done but God has blessed me with an awesome support system. It takes more than a village to get through some things and I am constantly in awe of, and overwhelmingly grateful for the people that God has given us has along the way. Our crazy life promises surprises and difficulties. It is fun and completely exhausting. It is impossible not to love it and fight through it daily. I could never do it on my own. That is why the award for best supporting role goes to each of you who has ever loved my boys. Maybe you wiped their noses or held their hands. Maybe you gave a bear hug or listened to a story. Maybe you shared a chocolate sucker or laughed at one of their crazy antics. For the smiles, the lessons, the love, I can only say thank you. You are an answer to this mother"s prayers and may you blessed abundantly beyond how you have blessed us.