Welcome to Our World

It is April folks, and around here that means lots of things, baseball season starts, spring is springing up (or at least we hope!), and, a special one for us, AUTISM awareness month. Ryan and I were reflecting just the other day on how different our life is than what we thought it would be. Let me transparent, we didn't know much about autism and we didn't have a plan for it affecting our world. We figured we did not fit the at-risk group and so we were good. We think about my pregnancy and we wonder when and how and why. We look back now at baby pictures of G and we don't see an autistic baby. Then toddlerhood, that's where the seed of suspicion took root in my mama heart. He had a crazy high pain tolerance. He was too easy. He didn't throw fits (those were the days!) He didn't talk and didn't care to. He had a couple sensory issues, nothing major but we wondered. I made our own referrals and sought our own answers and I refused to not smile for my boy. I cried silent tears, in my car, over laundry, always by myself. I educated myself without google or webmd but, instead with real people in waiting rooms and books that told real life stories and professionals and experts who saw the good, despite the hard. We decided to talk about it and not hide it or cover it. We were open and honest and "ok". Gradually, our circle became educated and aware and accepting. We laugh now that what we didn't expect became, in some way, how we would be defined. We are an Autistm Family. We wear our blue and we light up our world with G as our guide. Two of the people most affected by autism in our world are not Ryan and I, but our older boys. Parker and Carter are advocates of something that is so much bigger than them. They are G's biggest fans and the most accepting and awesome brothers that he could ever have. They really don't remember life before autism. They were just little when we spent hours waiting for G to finish therapy and they often have worked along side us and his therapists to help G reach his next milestone. They laugh with him and help him and they keep Ryan and I sane in the midst of the insane. They hurt when he hurts and they have to sacrifice and serve in ways that we could never have prepared them for. They are compassionate and kind and two of the most important people in Garrett's life and ours. So this blog, kicking off a month of autism awareness, is written mostly by them, from their point of view. 

Recently, the older boys and I read a book that was written by an nonverbal autistic child. It was an easy read and it consisted of  questions about autistic behaviors and common misconceptions, followed by answers from the mind of an individual with autism. It was funny and enlightening and we really enjoyed it. Because of it, I decided to give my older boys a list of questions about autism, how it affects their lives, how they see it, and have them answer from their perspective. Here are their answers...

1. How would you define autism?  Autism is a learning disability that makes G act and think differently than other people. I’ve never heard of a cure, but I have heard that they can diagnose people earlier now.

        I think autism is a thing where you aren’t crazy or anything but that you just have a different way of approaching things which sometimes looks different or weird.

2. What is the best part about having brother with autism?  The best part about having a brother with autism is that he can be super funny sometimes and I never forget a movie quote with him repeating them all the time.

     We get to have cool things in our house like egg chairs, swing chairs, and cool fidgets. Also, we get to do special things like fun club, stepping stones, and sometimes we get to go bowling.

3. What is the worst part about having a brother with autism?  Sometimes people think that I have autism like G. Other times people will tell me that my brother is weird and I kind of get offended.

     The worst part about having a brother with autism is that while he is funny it can sometimes get annoying and he is a little weird to some of my friends.

4. Why do you think G does some of the things that he does (ex. stims, repeats, dislikes babies, etc)?  I think G does stuff-stims because he gets a little overexcited and does that to calm him down. I think G dislikes babies because they are loud and messy, and he finds that very annoying.

     I think he does stuff-stims, repeats, dislikes babies, etc. because he is comfortable repeating movie lines. He does stuff- stims because it calms him down when he gets excited. He dislikes babies because they are loud, they cry, and they do things that G thinks are strange.

5. What do you think is the hardest part for G in living with autism?  The hardest thing for G to do with autism is learning. It is just hard for him.

     I think the hardest thing for G about living with autism is that sometimes he doesn’t understand what people are saying to him and that can make his life a little harder

6. Has Garrett's autism ever embarrassed you?  When I was younger I never used to think G was very weird. I mean he went to a special school and had a bunch of sensory things, but it never bothered me at all, or at least until other kids started meeting G. I swear in my second-grade year I explained autism 20 times and it started to become a conscious thing. But then G got older and all my friends think he is the funniest kid ever.

     G has never really embarrassed me because all my friends know that he is a little bit different.

7. How has autism made you or your family stronger? Autism has made are family appreciate one another better than other families I think.

     I think autism has made our family stronger because it has shown us that sometimes different is a good thing and that we should always treat people with kindness and respect.

8. What are your best and worst memories with G? One of my best memories with G is when he first started to go to school and he met all these other kids and he loved his teachers. One of my worst memories with G is when he had trouble in his second-grade year and we had issues with getting it switched. It all turned out ok, but it was kinda worrisome. 

     My best memory with G was when he asked Parker’s foot doctor the internet password was and said he had no idea. Then G said they needed to work on their internet connection. My worst memory with G was when one time he was clapping, jumping, and making his noise and I heard this kid say, I wonder whose brother he is, I bet he is weird.

9. What hopes, dreams, or fears do you have for G when he grows up? I hope that somebody will not be afraid to take G in as a person as well as an employee. I am afraid that somebody will not take G in because they think he will mess up.   

     I hope and dream that when G gets older he does whatever makes him happy and excels. I fear that some people will turn G away because they fear he will not do well at what they need done.

10. What do you love about G? I love G because he has given me many things in life that no one else has he is just a great person to be around.

     I love G because he makes us laugh all the time.

These boys....Life is full of worries and what ifs and tough times. There are no guarantees or plans or sure things. My boys, though so young and wild and far from perfect, remind me that there is hope and that some surprises are exactly what you never knew you always needed. All 3 of my boys are brave and smart and good. It is a challenge to live with autism, for the individual with the diagnosis and for their loved ones, but it is a worthy, strengthening challenge.  My hope for all my boys is that they always take life as an opportunity to grow and learn and love and, that they are always there for each other, laughing and loving all the while, lighting up the world around them.

Laundry Prayers of Bursting Praise

Laundry. It is one of those things. I do it every single day, several times each day. It is definitely a love-hate relationship with me and laundry. And yet, that is where I am starting today. Actually, it was a couple of days ago. I was back in my boys’ room sorting socks and putting away laundry. It was a quiet evening and I was remaking beds and being a mom and I was also praying. I was just really chatting with my Jesus. I was praying for my boys which led to praying for other folks too. I was praying for a few of my tribe that are going through tough things. Things that make us feel heavy and sad and make your eyes tear up. As I was praying I was specifically asking for God’s hand to work but even more. I was asking for the purpose to be clear and the strengthening and molding to happen accordingly. I was praying that months, years, decades later,  God’s hand would still be visible, and thanks would be offered for His work in the hard moments. As I prayed, I was just overwhelmed with how I have been able to witness that in my own life and in so many others. My laundry prayers were not necessarily all for bad, heavy, hard things, like biopsies and illnesses and unknowns, but they also included open doors, new opportunities, distant hopes in the hearts of people that I know and love. All of the requests still had questions unanswered and so they were scary because of those unknowns. Several things struck me in my prayer time, my boys have too many socks, just joking (kind of). I realized no one’s story is without detours and unknown roads, everything can be used for the good if we allow the Master to work the clay, and we really can give thanks in all things. As we celebrate 15 years of marriage this month, I can say that Ryan and I have certainly known the moments that we never dreamed would happen. We have seen those things bless us and, sometimes, scare us beyond ourselves and we have been and, continue to be, grateful for them every day.

 When I was caring for my first precious little 4 month old baby boy, I never dreamed or imagined that I was also carrying my next precious little baby boy and yet a cheap pregnancy test told me the truth. It was not on the spreadsheet of our life but we quickly realized that we needed to add it in there! A blessing, yes, but also something that rocked our world at that time and took lots of prayer and patience and grace to get used to and, even, be thankful for. I remember saying to God, “but, this isn’t how I thought it would be”. This is a happy detour but, of course, not all of the unexpecteds have been as joyous. We also spend everyday adjusting our life and our expectations around our special needs son, every meal, every experience, every. single. thing. It doesn’t always feel like a reason for praise in the hard moments of homework and stimming and just surviving, and yet, I know that I need to be thankful. Ryan takes meds that are ugly and battles a disease that we never knew existed until it flipped our world. My career has had to be adjusted to fit our reality and to meet the needs and demands of it. Life happens and we choose how we respond and adapt it every moment of every day. 

This is true for every one of us. We have all experienced unimagined blessings and unexpected hardships. None of us are spared and we shouldn’t even desire that. I have friends who have lost loved ones, survived  broken relationships, dealt with health issues too young and too hard,  had to move away from loved ones. The list is unending. This week one of my devotional readings said this, “Thankfulness takes the sting out of adversity. That is why I have instructed you to give thanks for everything. You give me thanks (regardless of your feelings), and I give you joy (regardless of your circumstances)” It went on to explain our being thankful opens us up to God’s handwork in all of life. When we shine his LIGHT on our circumstances, the happy and the harsh, it is really like turning a flashlight on in a dark room. The entire perspective changes and the scariest things don’t look so bad anymore and the brightest things reflect His goodness.

The scripture for that day’s reading is one that I know and love and try to live every day. It is from Isaiah 55:6-12: 

“Seek the Lord while he may be found; call on him while he is near. Let the wicked forsake their ways and the unrighteous their thoughts. Let them turn to the Lord, and he will have mercy on them, and to our God, for he will freely pardon. “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, “declares the Lord. “As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts. As the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and do not return to it without watering the earth and making it bud and flourish, so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater, so is my word that goes out from my mouth:  It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it. You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and hills will burst into song before you, and all the trees of the field will clap their hands.”

I love and believe that the Lord’s thoughts and ways are higher than mine. I trust that and find peace in it, but that ending. Don’t miss it! It is where I am right now and where my laundry prayers led me. God’s words, His work, does not return empty. We can go out, wherever He leads, with JOY and PEACE. His purposes will be accomplished. His watering will produce fruit and that should cause us all to burst (love that word) into song, trees clapping our hands! That is praise! That is rejoicing! That is God’s work and it is always worthy!

As I folded the last of my boys’ clothes that night, I admit that the tears were flowing but they weren’t sad tears. They were tears of joy. In 15 years, Ryan and I have had our life’s plans be forever altered beyond what we ever could have asked or imagined. We have had gone through the good, the bad, and the ugly and we know that we will again. Today though, we rejoice, we clap our hands, and our hearts are full of bursting praise because God’s goodness is present and active in our marriage, in our lives. There will be rain and storms, but it is purposeful and yields a rich harvest. This is why I will keep praying for my tribe, my friends, my family, everyone who needs to see the hand of God at work. I will also keep being thankful, for the unknown, unplanned, unimagined. God is always working, and His work is always good. Let us be bursting with the praise that He so richly deserves.

The Dis-connect

Let me tell you all a little bit about myself, I am a stellar disconnector. I wasn't always aware that I had this uncanny ability but not long after joining Ryan in wedded bliss, I discovered "the silent treatment". I could win a gold medal in this event! I am epic at nodding and making eye contact, all while pretending my opponent doesn't really exist in my world. I will neither admit or deny to being able to survive multiple days of not speaking to those that I love if they so deserve it. The trouble of this is that somehow I have started using this in all areas of my life. When things start to rub me wrong, when I get jealous, or prideful, or hurt, or angry, I simply shut down. A few years ago, around the time of Garrett's diagnosis, I just silently stepped out of some friendships. All of a sudden things felt hard for me and I decided to shut myself off a bit, make my circle smaller. I later recognized my behavior for what it was, my embarrassment and fear, and have since reconciled those relationships but it took me entirely too long to make amends with myself.  I will sometimes find myself doing this to my own kids. They will start to try my patience and I will just sort of pretend they aren't really in my space, sharing my oxygen, desiring my attention. My oldest already attempts to get me back by talking more and more and more. It is both sad and funny and his incessant words will eventually break down my barrier or send me to my room with a good book. I also find that I do this with my Savior. Recently, I was feeling a little hurt and a lot of stubbornness in a couple of different relationships. I knew what I should do and I knew what I wanted to do and I chose the latter. I simply avoided, ignored, and disconnected. It was justifiable. It was necessary. It was wrong. The worst part was that the more I felt conviction over it, the less I spoke with my Convictor. I avoided praying and reading and even thinking about God because he was not on my side. I had my quiet times. I listened to my worship music. I even did devotionals with my kids but I also disconnected myself as much as possible. I refused to let my Savior anywhere near my soul, at least for a little bit.

By definition, to disconnect is to break the connection of or between. When I feel I have been wronged or when I'm frustrated, hurt, or annoyed, it feels good and appropriate to disengage. Why continue arguing? Why put myself out there to be hurt more? Why not separate myself from what is bothering me? The answer, I have discovered over the last few days, is simple, we are made to be in relationship, with each other and, certainly, with God.  We are created by and for and dependent upon connections. The harsh, honest, hard answer is that life is not all about me. In fact, when trying to live a life of faith,  it kind of never is. There is a part of me, the fleshly part of me, that wants to think that in separating, in refusing to engage, I win and I will be better, but that part is always wrong. It is selfish and it is wrong, especially when I do this with my Lord. He is the Vine and I am the branch. All of my nourishment, all of my strength, all of my life, comes from Him. He is the Light and without Him, I feel the darkness. At first, I can justify and it doesn't feel too bad but soon I feel lost and alone and ugly on the inside. The same thing happens if I try this in my other relationships. It doesn't feel good and right to cut off myself from my kids and my husband and my friends. It doesn't heal. Instead it hurts, divides, and wounds.

In praying about this, God showed me some wonderful insight in a devotional that I have been going through. Here is a excerpt from it, "When your sins weigh heavy upon you, come to me...Stay in the light of My Presence, receiving forgiveness, cleansing, and healing. Remember that I have clothed you in My righteousness, so nothing can separate you from me...Man's (or Rachel's) tendency is to hide from his sin, seeking refuge in the darkness. There he indulges in self-pity, denial, righteousness, blaming, and hatred. But I am the Light of the world, and My illumination decimates the darkness. Come close to Me and let My Light envelop you, driving out the darkness and permeating you with Peace." Wow! Doesn't that just feel like a big heavenly hug. God never leaves us and always, always desires relationship with us. Hiding in ourselves, we will only be enveloped in our own selfish darkness. The scripture reading for that day was from Psalm 32:1-5 and here is a part of it..."When I kept silent, my bones wasted away through my groaning all day long. For day and night your hand was heavy on me, my strength was sapped as in the heat of summer. Then I acknowledged (spoke) my sin to you and did not cover up my iniquity......and You forgave the guilt of my sin".  God knows my stubbornness all too well and really beat his point into the ground. I get it! I need to speak, talk, share, stay connected. But not just me, we all do.

In closing, here is a prayer from my prayer journal. Not because I have it all right, but because I absolutely don't. This one is dog-earred, just in case I might happen need to review it later (like daily!).....Yep, Lord, I get it. I have a major tendency to shut off and shut down whatever I don't want to hear and that includes with you. Forgive me. Speak to me and help me to listen. Soften my heart and help me to obey. Don't give up on me. Thank you for never forsaking me. I feel heavy because I won't give you my burdens. Help me to turn my hardness over to you and let your grace and mercy mold and shape me. Amen and amen.

Old faithful

Ryan has this old, ragged, favorite red, hoodie sweatshirt. It was gifted to him many moons ago by his aunt Connie. I can even remember him opening it that Christmas because I thought that it would look nice on him. I like him in reds. It is from American Eagle and was given to him back when we were still cool enough to shop there. He wears it ALL the time. It has holes in the front pocket, holes in the cuffs (and we are not talking about the cool thumb holes). It is frayed and battered and he loves it. He hates when I steal it for a quick wash and keeps it on the bottom of our bed so he can slip it on in moments. That sweatshirt, he wore it in the chilly hospital rooms when we had our babies. I remember him off to the side with wide teary eyes in his red sweatshirt. He wore it for his first scope, that dreaded day when our lives tilted a little. He wore it for his first treatment where he received a 5 hour infusion to kill his immune system so it couldn't attack his belly anymore, hopefully. He wears it to play Mario kart, to watch his boys play ball. He has worn it on walks on the beach and to take the trash out. He wears it worship practice and for lazy evenings at home. It is his go to and has been for a very long time.  It is woven into our memories and our days and our lives.  This red sweatshirt has been with us through our greatest joys and also through some of our worst moments. He loves it and, oddly, I do to. It's old. It's comfortable. It's useful. It's faithful.

This sweatshirt recently reminded me of some important truths in life. It started out as a normal early morning at our house. Ryan and I were chatting while he got ready for work. He took his red sweatshirt off and placed it in his spot for it at the bottom of our bed and reminded me not to try to wash "old sweater" because he planned on wearing it that evening. It made me laugh and then the morning continued on as they all do. He left for work and I got busy having my quiet time. I was reading through Revelations and reflecting on how I tend to avoid that particular book. It is just not my favorite. It can be confusing and overwhelming to me but that day, I noticed how beautiful and powerful it really is. That morning the words seemed so fresh to my heart and spoke volumes to me of old truths that were being made new to John, a tired but faithful servant of God. John was in it for the long haul and he had been through much in his life and the last book he wrote was one of his greatest feats. It's truly unimaginable. How inspiring to have lived a life devoted to sharing the hope of the world and then to be blessed with the prophetic visions of the that hope being finally fulfilled. That particular morning, it left me feeling encouraged and yet also wondering where exactly my faith was taking my life right now. My heart felt distracted and not at peace. Between holidays and health and worries about the future, my footing felt weak and my vision was unclear. Life's road has been relatively smooth for us all in all but I wasn't feeling solid or comfortable. I confessed it and asked for God to open my eyes and my heart to His ways in my life. My journal reads it like this, "Help me to grow and to seek and to live in my faith and your faithfulness. I want to have old, full, fresh faith. Always. Constant. Never failing and always bearing fruit."

My next reading took me to Esther. Quite different from Revelations, the book of Esther doesn't even mention God but it clearly shows his hand at work. I knew this story well and I have always liked it, but as I read it this time, I heard an answer to my earlier request and struggles. In the words that I know like I know that old sweatshirt, "For such a time as this" said Esther 4. Right then and there I heard God reminding me that my faith, and the faith of all of us, is for right now. It's for the days we need to honor our spouses. It's for the snow days and the sick days and the sunny days. It's for the easy paths and the ones we would rather avoid. It's for the climbs up the mountains and the times when we are sinking deep. Esther's faith was old and steady and that day in her life, at that very moment, it was necessary to save the lives of her people. I heard God tell me that my faith needed to be like that red sweatshirt, old, worn, predictable, and constant. I need to wear it when I'm celebrating and when I'm filled with worry. It will get me through the coldest nights of my life and it will keep me through sunny breezes. Wherever I go, my faith goes too and it is necessary "for such a time as this" Whatever that time is! It is now, today! Somehow, yesterday's faith will still be fresh and necessary and enough for all the tomorrows yet to come. Just like Esther's and just like John's and just like that old sweatshirt, we have to wear our faith. We have to trust in it and rely on it and be comfortable to live all of life in it, the good, the bad, and the ugly. We need to know where it is and it needs to fit us in a moment's notice.  It might get a little threadbare in spots but it will never fail us.

As fate would have it, that same day, I heard a remake of a favorite old hymn of mine, Great is thy Faithfulness. In closing, I'm just going to write the words of it here. As you read the words, know that it is an old song meant for long ago and also meant "for such a time as this"-this very day and everyday. Let it warm you and wrap you up tight. Let it heal you and fill you with the great faithfulness of our God and may all of us find our faith to be old, full, fresh faith, perfect for such a time as this.

Great is Thy faithfulness, O God my Father

There is no shadow of turning with Thee

Thou changest not, Thy compassions, they fail not

As Thou hast been, Thou forever will be

Great is Thy faithfulness

Great is Thy faithfulness

Morning by morning new mercies I see

All I have needed Thy hand hath provided

Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me

Summer and winter and springtime and harvest

Sun, moon and stars in their courses above

Join with all nature in manifold witness

To Thy great faithfulness, mercy and love

Great is Thy faithfulness

Great is Thy faithfulness

Morning by morning new mercies I see

All I have needed Thy hand hath provided

Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me

Pardon for sin and a peace that endureth

Thine own dear presence to cheer and to guide

Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow

Blessings all mine, with ten thousand beside

Great is Thy faithfulness

Great is Thy faithfulness

Morning by morning new mercies I see

All I have needed Thy hand hath provided

Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me

The Red Trumpet (and a short introductory confession)

I need to make a confession. Or maybe a resolution. Maybe a confession that results in a resolution. Yep, that's it! I confess that I have had this blog on my heart for the last several months, I have had it on paper for over a month, and I have no excuse for why I haven't shared. I just haven't taken the time and the energy and I have felt less than confident about how much of myself to put out there lately. Not good reasons and yet the real ones. That being said, in my prayer time, I have resolved to share more regularly. I have decided that I want to be known as an obedient child of my living and active God and that requires actions and words and sharing real life. It's all out there now, so feel free to hold me accountable whenever you deem necessary. Now, onto the Red Trumpet.....
This year we have a trumpet player. Neither Ryan nor I were involved in the band, so this whole concept is new to us but we are always in support of trying something new. As school started, Parker began requesting we purchase his new trumpet. We questioned why a trumpet and not some other instrument. In true 11-year old reasoning, Parker made his decision on the instrument that his petite stature could easiest manage. As we shopped, we noticed not only several varying brands of trumpets but also several color options. Parker was psyched about this and kept pushing for a red trumpet. We said no. But, why not? Our answer was simple-you don't want to be known as the kid with the red trumpet. There are many things that you can be recognized for in life, don't let it be the color of your horn. This conversation about the appropriate trumpet color for our middle schooler morphed into a dozen more thoughts and conversations. What do we want to be known for? What should we represent? Where do we seek our value, our worth?
As I challenged my boys with this concept and these questions, I was equally convicted. I encouraged them to be known as lights in darkness. I want them to be bucket fillers and builder-uppers of the world around them. We have a saying of "choose joy" at our house. No matter the situation, you can always choose to see the good. I want my boys to love Jesus and love others and to be known as boys growing into godly men. I want them to be respectful and responsible in a world that doesn't always deserve it. I reminded them that we have other options.  We can be sarcastic, unkind, rude, lazy. We can be takers or givers in this world. I want them to be givers. 1 John 3:18-19 confirms these truths when it says,  "Dear children, let’s not merely say that we love each other; let us show the truth by our actions. Our actions will show that we belong to the truth, so we will be confident when we stand before God."  I desperately want my boys to feel confident in God's deep love for them. In return, I want them to be confident and sure in living that love out loud. Red trumpets are fine and fancy and great but I want us to be known as reflections and children of the King of Kings.
All of this was also very challenging to my own heart. I have found myself dissecting what exactly I, myself, am known for. Lots of kids will say they know me from church. I lead the kids' worship. I also sign my name with a "RN" afterward when I am working and so some folks know me as a nurse. There are still a few blessed folks who still call me a "Parker girl" and know me from my family. I am a wife, a mother, a friend to some. And yet, I know some would not say these things. I am convicted to say that some would say that I am not always kind and friendly. I know that my heart has been led too often by things like jealousy, selfishness, an, even occasionally, by anger. God forgive me.  This is not how I want to be known. As the discussion continued, my prayer journal and my Bible quickly became filled with red trumpet scribbles in the margins. God used a simple request by a 11-year old for a fun trumpet to show me ugliness that I have displayed for my world to see. I saw that I am not always reflecting my Jesus. I am not always choosing joy and promoting peace. "What am I know for?" became a daily reflection question and, quite honestly, sometimes I was ashamed of the answer. This "red trumpet" has become a new motto in my heart. I want to be known as a child of God and as on obedient disciple of his Word. It is a tall order and one that I fall short of all too frequently but I am a work in progress. My boys and I together are challenging each other to be known for goodness and righteousness and faithfulness. We want to reflect the God we serve who saved our very souls.
In closing, here is a prayer from my journal. The honest cries from a heart that loves and desires and struggles to live out the love I've been graciously given...Lord, let me be known as a source of love and, even, gentleness. (That second one is real hard for me!) Help me to be a safe and comfortable place for my tribe and my friends to visit and get encouragement. Let me seek you and then generously share you with the world around me. I love you and I want to be your light, your fruit, here in my world. In Jesus' name, amen.

Firm Feet

Last night my oldest got out of bed. For all those parents reading this, you know that this is a near mortal sin, especially since it was the third night this week that he had reappeared after bedtime.  I was just getting comfortable with the remote in my hand and my final cup of coffee half emptied. My response was not kind, needless to say. It was something along the lines of GO TO BED and he was obedient in tucking his tail and heading back down the hall. Then Ryan brought a little wisdom into the situation and pointed out that this son of ours might just be a little nervous. You see, our oldest is having surgery this week. It is not a major surgery and we are always thankful for health in our family,  but he is having his feet operated on and it feels big to him and, honestly, to me too. This time it was my turn to do the walk of shame down the hall and into his darkened bedroom. I crept to his bedside and apologized for overreacting and asked what was wrong. My mom heart broke when he admitted with a quivering voice that his feet hurt and that he was a little scared. He said, "Mom, what if I limp?" Such a simple question but one that was too deep and too real for such a young soul. I tried to hold in my tears and offer my best mom comfort while internally begging Jesus to let my boy heal easily and to give me the right words and then I told him we would pray. So while I rubbed his ankles and feet with some Deep Blue, we presented our requests to God with prayer and thanksgiving. We asked Him to help us to not be anxious. We thanked Him for good doctors, for insurance, for better feet in the future. We prayed for peace and sleep and quick healing bodies. I did the talking and Parker silently agreed as we prayed that we would trust and hope in the plans that God has for him. It was heartbreaking and heavy and somehow those moments helped my boy find sleep, but not this mom. 

The next morning I felt myself still wrestling with worry over the situation. I had been trying to diligently pray and let go for weeks,  but the struggle was very real, not only was my child scared, but I was too.  As I sat doing my devotional that morning I kept going back to those anxious thoughts,  wondering why God gave him feet that ached and was I making the right choice for his little body. How could surgery ever be the best option and why couldn't he just have normal feet? I questioned if it would all really be ok, that is what I was telling him but how was I to believe it in my own heart. As I washed dishes and stared out the window at the trampoline in the back, all I could think of was the unfairness of it all. Then God spoke to me. He reminded me that walking, with or without a limp, in this life was not the walking that I needed to concern myself with for my boys. My greatest desire is really for them to walk closely and firmly rooted and established with their Savior, all other walking is in vain. Naturally, I want Parker's body to heal whole and well but, more than that, more than anything else, I want him to take his every step, his every decision, his every breath with Jesus. I can rub his feet. I can hold his hand.  I can buy him insoles and even, sign off for surgery. I can pray with him and try to help him in many ways, but his heart, his future is not in my control. My Parker knows his Lord and it is Jesus who is his true comfort and healer, not me. It is the the paths that the Lord has for him that I want him to walk in. I want his feet and his faith to rest solidly in Jesus and His ways, not my own.

Psalm 40:1-3 says this, 


1 
1 "I waited patiently for the Lord to help me, and he turned to me and heard my cry. He lifted me out of the pit of despair, out of the mud and the mire. He set my feet on solid ground and steadied me as I walked along.
He has given me a new song to sing, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see what he has done and be amazed. They will put their trust in the Lord."


Oh that this would be my hope, my cry for Parker, for all my boys, for my own soul. No matter what we face or what we fear, He is with us. He never leaves us. He never forsakes us. He never leads us down wrong paths and He always walks beside us. Let us wait and trust. He will take the pain and turn it into praise. He will steady us as we walk sure on solid ground. Let us sing a new song and may others see what He has done and be amazed. 

I will be tucking that little boy into bed tonight. I will have to remind him several times to take his allergy medicine and brush his teeth. I will go to the room that he shares with his brother and we will chat and pray and for our devotional, I will read them this verse. I will pray it and hold tightly to it and we will rest in certain hope that we can sing a new song as we walk steady and safe in the ways of our Lord.