The Scar

It’s been an interesting week.  I guess that’s one word to describe it.  Other words would apply as well.  Stressful…..demanding…..concerning…..worrying.  In case you’re wondering what I’m talking about, you can read about it in the blog I wrote.  Here’s the link:

 http://hesaidwhatks.blogspot.com/2016/01/a-little-understanding-please.html

It hasn’t just involved Aaron, though.  Yet he certainly does take center stage in our lives.  All the above descriptive words certainly can, and do, apply to him.  I’m reminded of our bad beginning to our week now every time I walk into his room and see this.

“This” being the place on his wall where a picture similar to the one hanging USED to hang.  Used to hang before he yanked it off the wall in a fit of anger on Tuesday….after fits of anger on Monday.  Anyway, read my last blog, like I said.  It explains more about what happened.

Now we’re left with the ugly reminder there on his wall.  A reminder of a bad day….of hurt….of anger….of events that led up to this ugly scene and this ugly spot on his wall.

A scar. 

It would be easy to see this scar and to focus on the bad things that happened that day.  It would be easy to see this scar and to remember the awful feelings….the frustration….the anger…..the failures.  Both mine and Aaron’s, for sure. 

However, there are other parts to this whole story, too.  There are other pictures that I can choose to focus upon if I just will. 

And there it is.  It’s a matter of my will, of my choosing, as always.  I can choose to only conjure up the depressing thoughts of those two days, and of this past week generally, or I can instead choose to ponder also on the bright spots. 

On Monday evening, after Aaron’s really bad day, he suddenly asked if he could write our friend Atha a note.  He knows Atha, and he has heard us talking about her stroke.  Aaron rarely offers on his own to write anything to anyone, unless it’s what he wanted to write on a sticky note about me on Monday.  It wasn’t nice, either.

So this idea of his to send Atha a get-well note in his own words was just a very special, unexpected warm moment in the midst of a terrible time for him and for us.  That made it a double blessing.  A very needed blessing, double at that!!

I can look at the scar on Aaron’s wall and I can remember this precious note.

Also to be remembered are the prayers of friends and family….the kindness shown when aware of our need….the time spent with friends and the encouragement of warm hugs.  There was Julie, an employee at our Dillon’s, who asked me out of the blue if I needed any more one dollar bills for Aaron.  It’s not easy to get the ones when I need them, and I had forgotten in my stress that I was running low, but Julie saw me and asked me….said she thought I might be running low….said she was looking out for me.  She has no idea, though I told her a little, of how much that meant to me this week.

The scar on Aaron’s wall can remind me of all those blessings.

And there is the recliner at Dillon’s – two recliners, actually – that Aaron sat in the first time he saw them.  They were something new.  Something fun!  But probably not something that Dillon’s wants everyone to sit in and enjoy like Aaron does.  J  So the next time we saw them, in front of the registers, each chair held a huge stuffed animal.  I laughed and told Aaron that now he couldn’t sit in them since they were already occupied.  I figured that Dillon’s had a motive for putting those animals there.

On Friday, Aaron and I were there after I picked him up from Paradigm.  We were ordering him his favorite Cheddar Pasta Salad when suddenly he took off walking briskly toward something.  I thought he was headed to the Chinese side of the deli.  He LOVES looking at the Chinese food, and having the workers ask him what he wants while he laughs and says he’s just looking.  Every time.  But on Friday, when I looked up to see him walking away, I soon saw where he was headed.

Yep.  He spied the recliner, moved to a new spot in the store.  The empty recliner….but not for long.  Look at his smile.  How could I not smile? 

I see the scar on Aaron’s wall and I see the choice I have to make.  Aaron knows he did wrong and he knows he must wait for the wall to be repaired.  I don’t need to keep hammering that home to him.  But there are some issues that sometimes need hammering into my brain as I look at his scar.

What will I allow that scar to teach me?  What will I allow that scar to do to my heart and to my spirit?  Will I use that scar to remind me of the bad, or will I use that scar to let me remember the blessings in the midst of pain and the lessons learned in the hard times?

We all have them, those ugly scars of life.  We can wallow in anger and unforgiveness….regret and guilt…..pain and sadness.

Or we can choose to do what God said and forget those things that are behind, and press forward.  I know we can’t really forget, but we can forget in the sense of clinging on to them and letting the defeating thoughts control us.  What’s done is done.  Let God handle it as you pray and trust.

And as you forgive those that have hurt you, whether they know it or not.  Like Gary said on Monday night, our relationship with Aaron is much like God’s relationship with us.  It’s one of constant sin on my part and constant forgiveness on God’s part.  How can I do less? 

I want my scars to be touch points for memories of God’s grace in my life, and then for me to extend that grace to others…..including….especially!....Aaron.

Unto The Least: A Man Named Richard

I remember him so well.  Richard……….nondescript, uneducated, stinky, and often unwelcome Richard.  Our paths crossed because Richard attended the same church where I grew up and where I worshipped.  Our paths also crossed because God ordained it to be so.  God ordained it to be so………so that I would learn a lesson.   It was a lesson best taught by the method that God loves to use – the weak things of the world confounding the mighty. 

Richard was a very short little man.  I often think that he was our version of Zaccheaus there in Princeton, West Virginia where I was raised.  Richard didn’t have much education and he was also very simple minded.  Today I’m sure he would be classified as being developmentally delayed, at the very least.  Yet he had served our country in World War 2, returning to Princeton when his time was up.  I remember hearing the story of how Richard wanted to help build the parsonage for our pastor at Johnston Chapel Baptist Church.  The men decided that Richard could dig the sidewalk, and so they used twine and little posts to outline the walkway that Richard should dig.  As Richard dug, his shovel cut the twine and it veered off to the side……..and Richard continued to follow the twine with his digging.  I’m not sure if the men let Richard dig anymore after that or if they found another safer job for him to do. 

I remember Mom and Dad loading us five kids into the old station wagon and then leaving for church.  We never missed a service unless we had a fever or were throwing up, or maybe if blood was involved.  This was in the day of services every Sunday morning, Sunday night, Wednesday night, and anything in between.  This was also in the day of revival services that lasted at least a week, and sometimes longer if the Spirit led.  There were mission conferences, too, as well as other special services thrown in here and there.  The Kings did not miss church.  If Dad was working, then Mom loaded the station wagon and off we went. 

I loved going to church, but I always dreaded that drive up Thorn Street because often we would see him………..Richard, standing on one of the corners of Thorn Street, not far from his house.  Richard, standing there waiting for a ride to church from one of the church members that he knew would drive by in our little town and see him, and offer him that ride.  Richard, whom I was sure never, ever, ever took a bath.   The smell was just awful!  We kids would strain our necks to look ahead to see if he was still standing there, hoping against hope that some other family had come by before us and picked Richard up.  If we saw him, we would beg Mom or Dad not to stop for him………..to let someone else have that privilege on this day. 

But no……..Mom and Dad would always stop for Richard.  He would hop in our already crowded car and immediately we would be assaulted by that odor.  We girls learned a trick.  We would take a small purse-size container of perfume and try to hide it in our hand as we held it up to our nose.  Or at least have some perfume on our wrists that we could sniff in the hopes of blocking out that smell.  I’m not sure what John did to combat the odor but at that point it was each King for himself.   If no one was able to give Richard a ride, then he would walk to church, regardless of the weather……and that was probably a five mile walk.

Richard would talk, talk, talk.  He had a very fast, clipped speech.  I can still hear him make a comment and then say, “Isn’t that right?  Huh?  Isn’t that right?”  Then he would laugh and launch into something else, and ask again if that was right.  If he wasn’t talking, he was making a clicking sound with his tongue, as if he was getting food out from between his teeth.  He probably was, since I also doubted that Richard ever, ever brushed his teeth……….which just added to his unique smell. 

At church, Richard would lean up on the pew in front of him and talk to whomever was sitting there.  His eyes would dart between the people as he rapidly talked, and clicked his tongue, and laughed, and said, “Isn’t that right?   Huh?  Isn’t that right?”  The large church helped to spread his odor out some and keep it from being as strong……….unless you were the fortunate ones who were sitting in front of him and with whom he decided to engage in his mostly one-sided conversation.   Needless to say, when I was older and had the opportunity to sit in front of Richard……….I tried to find another seat.

Richard, though, was good at math.  I remember how that always surprised me.  On Wednesday nights, four men would count certain sections of church and then give the number to the pastor out loud as they were called upon to do so.  Richard almost always added those numbers faster in his head than Preacher Jimmie could do on paper, and he was usually right.  Amazing indeed!  And also amazing was the fact that Richard loved the Lord in his own simple way and was one of the most faithful church members that I have ever known.    I don’t remember seeing Richard carry a Bible and don’t know if he could read, but he knew his Bible.

Time marched on.  We King kids grew up, went to college, married and had our own lives.  Mom and Dad both eventually retired from their jobs.  They continued to be active at Johnston Chapel, enjoying the freedom to spend more time visiting the sick and those who were shut-ins.  Among those that they cared for, none stood out more to me than their continued care of Richard.  He had aged, of course, and time had taken a toll.  Richard was not only feebler, but was also dealing with the ravages of cancer.

I know that others helped with Richard, too, but Mom and Dad did a great deal for him in his old age.  They helped him find a better house to move into, and then helped him move his meager belongings.  They were shocked at what they found as they cleaned his house.  Such filth was hard for them to imagine!  And there in his closets and throughout his house were stacks of Christmas presents that church friends had given him over the years, still wrapped and unopened.   Inside were clothes and toiletries that he surely could have used over the years, but when questioned about it Richard said that he didn’t open them because he didn’t need anything.  Mom and Dad bought him clean clothes and new things, but Richard still preferred his old belongings and his old way of living.  Mom would take him home-cooked food and encourage him to eat better than he was.  She and Dad bought him a small refrigerator to keep his food from spoiling, but Richard refused to plug it in because he didn’t want to waste electricity. 

Dad helped Richard obtain his VA benefits, and then made sure that Richard started going to the proper doctors at the VA hospital.  He took Richard for many of his doctor appointments.  This was no easy task in many ways, but none more so than just the pure embarrassment of being in a public waiting room and doctor’s office with poor smelly Richard.  Mom and Dad tried countless times to teach Richard and to urge Richard to use better hygiene, but I don’t know that Richard ever took it to heart.  Dad would explain things to the doctor, but the people around them that they encountered must have wondered about Richard and about Dad.  Eventually Richard’s cancer became more complicated than what the local VA hospital could handle, so Dad took him to the nearest major VA hospital………..in Richmond……….a six hour trip one way.  Twelve hours confined in a car with Richard, as well as the time at the doctor appointments.  The smell……..the constant talking……….the clicking tongue.   Yet Dad just smiled and did what he knew that God would want him to do………..to take care of this little unwanted and unwelcome man. 

When Dad tried to see if Richard qualified for any other assistance such as Medicaid, it was discovered that Richard had money.  In fact, he had too much money to qualify for any government help.  Richard never offered to give Mom and Dad, or anyone else, any money for the things they did for him.  They wouldn’t have taken the money anyway.   That was not the motive.  A brother that no one knew about showed up at Richard’s death, and Mom and Dad walked quietly away from any further involvement……..but not before they gave Richard one of their burial plots since he didn’t have anywhere to be buried.

Mom and Dad didn’t want any public acclaim for what they did for Richard.  They just loved the Lord and they let the Lord’s love fill their hearts and direct their actions.  I know at times their service to Richard was tiring, was frustrating, was annoying, and very thankless.  Yet Mom and Dad, and the others who served Richard, did so because they lived out their faith and they believed Jesus when He said, “When you do it unto the least of these, you do it unto me.” 

 

Dad is with Richard in heaven now.   I sometimes try to imagine it, the two of them together up there.  Both have new bodies and are totally equal physically and mentally.  Did they hug when they saw each other?  Are they ever beside each other as they sing and as they worship?  Richard doesn’t smell anymore and Dad doesn’t have to explain him to anybody, or be embarrassed.  I wonder if Richard still talks fast, and does Dad still smile patiently at him?  I doubt it, but it’s fun to think about. 

And we kids are left with not only memories, but more importantly, we are left with a real example of selflessness that my parents demonstrated.  They loved the unlovely in more than word…………they loved also in deed.  I know that each of us has taken this lesson to heart in our own lives in various ways.  But I doubt that anyone could be any more kind and any more patient than my sweet parents were to Richard.

I can’t wait to see Richard in heaven!  I’ll give him a hug……….and no perfume bottle needed!

 

Lessons From the Random Garden Phlox

In our back yard, Gary and I have two flower beds that I haven’t done much with for the past two years.  Plenty of our perennials still grow there, but some have died that I haven’t replaced.  Gary is planning a patio remodel at some point, and knowing that those beds would be downsized or moved caused me to just let them grow as they will.  Our tall Tiger Lilies bloomed out there recently, but now those bright orange blooms are gone. 

This morning I looked outside as I worked at the kitchen sink.  There among the flowerless Tiger Lilies I saw the bright pink blooms of a random Garden Phlox.  The pink was very noticeable now that the lilies weren’t all in bloom.  What a pretty sight that Garden Phlox was as it stood among all the green leaves of the lilies!  The Phlox is shorter than the all those giant lilies surrounding it, but it stands out beautifully because of its bright, pretty flowers.

 

 

As I looked at that Garden Phlox, I thought of a nurse…..a nurse that I have never met and whose name I don’t even know.  Andrea, our daughter, told us about her last night.  Andrea has moved to a new area of the big city in which she lives, so yesterday she had her first appointment to get established with a family practice doctor there.  The doctor’s nurse who worked with Andrea was not only very nice, but Andrea said that she also gave a clear testimony of her relationship with the Lord.  She was definitely born again, a follower of Jesus, so she and Andrea shared that common bond as they talked together.  She then gave Andrea the name of two good churches in the area for her to visit.

This interchange may seem like no big deal, but it was very encouraging to Andrea…..and a huge answer to prayer for Gary and me.  As our two children that have moved far away get established in their new lives, Gary and I pray often that God will protect and lead them.  Part of our prayers for them is that God will bring others into their lives who are believers…..who will be there to encourage and befriend them.  It’s a rough world out there for all of us, but as parents we especially worry about our adult children as they navigate life far away from home and family. 

I just love seeing how God answers prayers in ways we don’t orchestrate at all.  Who would have thought that God would use this nurse to speak her testimony to Andrea, to lift her up in that way, and to give her the names of two churches?  But God knew just where Andrea needed to be yesterday morning.  The first doctor in that group couldn’t see Andrea, so she ended up with another doctor…..who has this nurse….and she was working yesterday when Andrea was there.  Thank you, God!

And thank you, dear nurse, for not being afraid to speak of your relationship with Jesus.  She truly let her light shine, just as Jesus told us to do, so that others will see the Lord in our lives.  This nurse was a huge blessing and an answer to prayers for us…and she may never know it this side of heaven.  But she was just walking in obedience, letting her light shine, and she sure did brighten Andrea’s day and ours as well.

Then I have to think about myself.  Often as I’ve prayed for those who will come alongside our children, I wonder if I might be on the other end of such a prayer.  Could I be the one that God wants to use to answer a mother’s prayer for their child?  Could I be that person who could encourage and bless a person for whom someone is praying?  Am I letting my light shine in the lives of others?  That thought has given me great pause over the years as I’ve prayed for our kids, and now even more so as I think of this nurse…..this random nurse…..who meant so much to our family yesterday in such a seemingly simple way.   

This nurse was like my Garden Phlox showing its beauty among the lilies.  She was a bright spot in Andrea’s day, and she was a bright blessing to Gary and me.  I need to be willing to do the same…..to grow where God has put me and to share the beauty of my relationship to Him because of what He has done for me.  I need to be careful to reach out to ones that God puts in my path, in whatever ways that I can.  Even the simplest acts can be just what a person needs at that moment, and just might be the answer to a parent’s or another’s prayer. 

So may I not let fear or selfishness or lack of caring grow around me so much that I don’t even try to help those who come into my life.  I pray that I will be open to God’s leading and obedient to his command to let my light shine so that others will see God, and thereby be uplifted.  May I shine like my bright pink Garden Phlox amongst all the tall, crowded lilies. 

I’m certainly thankful for that nurse who was a beautiful blessing in our lives yesterday.  May God bless her richly as she shares His beauty with others.

Lessons From the Weedy Crepe Myrtles

Gary and I were working in our garden, tending the vegetables and yanking out the unwanted weeds earlier this spring when I looked over and noticed another area that needed tending.  We have several tall Crepe Myrtles that are on the street side of the garden.  It was early spring, and I saw that all of them were crowded with weeds.  The weeds had become so thick that I knew if there was any hope of the Crepe Myrtles growing then I would need to pull those weeds…..sooner rather than later. 

 

After we finished the garden, I grabbed my little shears and I walked over to the row of Crepe Myrtles.  It seemed that there were only weeds growing until I bent over to take a closer look.  That’s when I saw that there were small new shoots of Crepe Myrtle poking through the thick weeds, trying hard to thrive but having to fight the persistent, fast growing weeds that threatened to crowd out their future growth. 

I began to do some snipping here and some cutting there, but I soon realized that I would need to slow down and take my work to a more personal level.  I got on my knees and slowly, carefully pulled more weeds from among the tender shoots of the bush that was trying so hard to grow.  I didn’t want to pull the small green and maroon Crepe Myrtle growth from the ground, so I had to carefully identify each weed and then gently pull it from the ground by its roots.  This was slow going, but it was worth it when I finally stood and looked down to see only pretty new Crepe Myrtle growth, unhindered now by the noxious weeds.

 

Over the next few weeks I was very pleased to see the Crepe Myrtles getting taller and taller, thriving in the rain and the sun.  They could grow now and show their beauty.  And just yesterday, as I pulled weeds from around our vegetables in the garden, I looked over to our little row of Crepe Myrtles and was so happy to see how tall they were.  How healthy they looked!  They will bloom now any day, a little late this year, but we will enjoy their blooms regardless.  I think I’ll enjoy those pretty fuchsia flowers even more this year as I think of how carefully I had to remove what was threatening to kill their beauty.

 

This has been a rather difficult summer for me…..for our family.  My mother passed away on May 4 and we buried her the Friday before Mother’s Day.  Then in June Aaron was in the hospital for a week with pneumonia and other complications, and had a long recovery when he came home.  I got sick a week after he got home, and am still finishing up my third round of antibiotics for that infection.  Last week Andrea, in Houston, got pneumonia in both her lungs. 

Those have been big things, like the big weeds in the Crepe Myrtles.  Sometimes the big things that bring exhaustion and discouragement are easier to deal with because they are so evident.  We expect to be tired and downhearted from issues like death and severe sickness, or prolonged illness.  We can identify the big problem and hopefully understand it as we deal with it, or as we ask others to pray for us over those matters.  It’s out there for all to see, including us, and so we can talk about it and handle it.

But deep in my heart, I’ve had another problem.  It’s not out there for all to see, and is even difficult for me to adequately identify and then deal with as I should.  I call it a spirit of discontentment.  It’s a gnawing unhappiness that I find creeping up in my soul, threatening to choke out my joy and my growth.  People can say, “Oh Patty, you’ve had such a hard time the last few months.  It’s just so much to handle.”  And while some of that may be true, I know better. 

I know better because I know my tendency to become discontent.  I’m like the Psalmist who said, “Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me?”  (Psalm 42:5)  I know myself very well, but I don’t always want to admit the problem.  That’s when I need to get up close and personal, like I did when I was on my knees beside the Crepe Myrtles, pulling out each individual choking weed that was stunting needed growth.  Sometimes it’s painful to identify the issue and to then take care of it in the necessary way, but it’s the only avenue to becoming content and peaceful once more.

My discontentment begins when I take my eyes off of God and His sovereignty in my life.  It’s when I allow myself the “luxury” of a wandering thought life.  What if I had this?  What if life was like that?  Why don’t I do such and such?  Why am I a failure?  If only I did this or had that or accomplished something, then I would be happy.  And as a woman, especially, that ugly comparing game.  How often we do that, whether it’s about our house or our figure or our work or our children or our husbands…..

It’s all so defeating.  And the bottom line with me, the very damaging weed that I need to get rid of the most, is an attitude of unthankfulness.  Paul tells us to be thankful in everything.  That means EVERY THING!  Every situation, every day, every person in our life, every moment, can and should prompt us to be thankful.  Even when we don’t feel like being thankful, there is always a reason for which to give thanks.  We may have to look hard, but it’s a command to be thankful.  Even if I can’t find a reason, I am still to be thankful to God for what He has allowed.  For me, a thankful heart is like pulling out many weeds that are choking me.  A thankful word on my lips and a thankful thought in my brain often takes a very conscious effort, but it does so much to sweep away that discontentment that makes me so down and miserable.

After the Psalmist asked the question about his turmoil in Psalm 42:5, he finished by saying, “Hope in God!  For I shall again praise Him, my salvation and my God.”  Sounds simple, but we know it isn’t always so.  Down on my knees I will go again and again, I am sure, to weed out the attitudes that are causing my discontent.  Remembering to hope in God and not in my surroundings.  And then knowing that I SHALL again praise Him, even if it’s while I’m on my knees doing that weeding and I don’t really feel like praising.  But praise I should, for He is my salvation and He is my God.  What a gift!  There it is.  Something for which to be thankful!

I want to be growing into the beauty that God has for me, like my Crepe Myrtles are now growing.  But I know it takes effort on my part to be obedient to what God tells me to do…..to be on my knees pulling out those weeds that are trying to destroy my joy.   

Oh, there’s more to that verse.  More to help me when I mess up.  “My soul is cast down within me; therefore I remember You from the land of Jordan and of Hermon, from Mt. Mizar.”

In other words, when I am cast down again….and I will be…..then I can remember the God who has strengthened and enabled me in the past.  He is still here in my present situation, whatever it may be. 

Weeds always grow, but God is always faithful, too.  And for that I am…..very thankful!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Headed Down Pity Path

I’ve been trying to decide how to write this blog post….or if I even should write it.  Yes, I think I should.  But how to do it in a way that doesn’t make Aaron look “bad” or make me look selfish.  Yet the truth is, Aaron isn’t bad but I am sometimes selfish.  I’m human and I get tired, but I also have to acknowledge where my roots often rest…..and that’s sometimes in soil that grows some undesirable attitudes. 

Tuesday night saw Aaron having four large seizures, so I was up four times with him.  I did sleep some between the episodes, which I often am not able to do, but still I was tired that morning.  I stayed up after Aaron’s last early seizure, and later I did the usual clean-up.  I stayed close to him as he lay on the couch for the rest of the morning, waiting to see if he had another seizure.  I had the laundry going and was able to do some other things while I sat there at the kitchen table.  I was on Psalm 18 that morning in my study time, which was perfect for me.  My favorite verse is there….verse 29.  “For by You I can run upon a troop; and by my God I can leap over a wall.” 

I felt very thankful as I sat there.  God seemed to be prompting me to focus on thankfulness.  I was thankful that Aaron was for the moment seizure free, warm, and safe.  Thankful that this wasn’t the day I was to take Nora to an important doctor appointment.  Thankful that my washing machine and dryer were just steps away, convenient and functioning.  Thankful that Aaron’s seizures aren’t far worse, as so many of our friends experience with their children.  Thankful that I don’t have to work, because it would be nearly impossible for me to do so.  Thankful for coffee.  Very thankful for coffee!

Later, Aaron woke up and he struggled to get off the couch.  After a few minutes, as he sat with me at the kitchen table, he told me that his arm was hurting.  I think he sprained it during one of the seizures.  Soon I asked him if he would want to eat, and we figured out together that some Cream of Chicken soup would hit the spot.  He was worried, though, that with his right arm hurting he would not be able to lift the soup spoon to his mouth.  Therefore, I demonstrated to him how he could eat by bending close over the bowl.  Aaron sometimes doesn’t like us to use our hands to demonstrate some action.  Don’t ask me why, but sometimes it irritates him.  So when I bent over to show him how he could eat, he snapped at me.  “You don’t have to show me how to do it by going like this….” he said with irritation as he copied my movement. 

It was as if he had thrown cold water in my face.  I knew that he was feeling terrible…..I knew that he has never liked physical demonstrations like this…...I knew that his autism makes him very blunt…..but I also knew at that moment that I felt very hurt.  I just looked at him, and he knew very well that I was not happy.  I didn’t say a word, but got up and fixed his soup.  I got him all settled there at the table so he could eat, and I coldly told him that I was going upstairs to take my shower. 

For some time, my thoughts were headed down Pity Path.  How could Aaron treat me so rudely after all I’ve done for him?  It was very easy to rehash all of my sacrifices for Aaron, and very easy to nurse my hurt.  I was mostly silent toward him as the afternoon wore on around us.  He seemed to be fine, watching a movie, so I slipped down to Dillon’s to run an errand I had hoped to run that morning, but couldn’t because of Aaron’s seizures…..how I had to sit with him and didn’t get to accomplish what I wanted when I wanted……how my day was interrupted and my schedule trashed…..

See how it went with my thoughts?  Where was the thankfulness I had experienced earlier?  Where was my, “…..with God I can leap over a wall?”  I’ll tell you where it was.  It was buried under my self-centered thoughts, my tired body and mind, and my feelings of being very unappreciated by my son.  I had some major adjusting to do over the next hours, and some soul searching, as well. 

We all have many moments of feeling just as I did on Tuesday afternoon.   As a parent, spouse, sibling, friend, worker on the job, volunteer at church…..no matter where we are…..we will get our feelings hurt.  And as the mother of a special needs child who also has autism, it’s easy to be hurt a lot.  Aaron doesn’t have filters or feelings like we do.  He must be reminded over and over to be kind, to think of other’s feelings, to react in a nice way instead of a blunt or harsh way, and on and on.  He is very self-centered, and this is a huge reason why it doesn’t work if I am that way, too. 

I think it was important for me, personally, at that moment to step back and remove myself from Aaron and the situation.  The danger I faced, though, was in nursing my hurt instead of focusing on what God would do.  What I allow my thoughts to focus upon will determine my attitude, and will even determine whether I sin in the situation or grow in it.  To be hurt was normal.  To let my roots sink into the hurt as I planted myself in it would not be beneficial or right. 

Christ gave up a lot for me.  How often do I react to Him with unthankfulness or pride?  He didn’t hold on to his position as God’s Son, but emptied Himself of all that and became sin for me.  That’s the best example I can follow as I experience the hurt and the tiredness of being a special needs Mom….or any of the other many roles I have in this life.  It can’t be about me, or I will be continually frustrated.  It must be about honoring Christ, and caring for Aaron.

Understanding how Aaron feels after seizures…..understanding his autistic way of viewing the world….is very necessary, as well.  So is training him and reminding him of his actions, and how they can hurt or help others. 

Understanding how I feel after Aaron’s seizures…..understanding my sometimes selfish way of viewing the world…..is also very necessary.  Both must be recognized and dealt with before being allowed to get out of hand. 

Well, back to my verse in Psalm 18.  I didn’t exactly leap over that wall with God.  He more or less had to lift and shove me over it.  I wanted to sit at the base of the wall and lick my wounds, but He wouldn’t let me.  I’m glad for that!  Glad that He is patient and persistent with me.  Glad that He shows me His love.

Just like we have to be with Aaron.  It won’t be the last time, either.  For me or Aaron, either one. 

The Back Burner

Gary and I live in a house that was built in the 70’s.  We’ve done some updating throughout the house, but there’s still a lot we need to do.  In our kitchen, we have one remaining relic from the 70’s – our JennAir stovetop.  I’m sure that in its day, that stovetop was very current and perhaps rather expensive.  But those days are long gone, and now our JennAir is definitely past showing its age. 

Yet it still works just fine.  Well, except for the left back burner.  That burner died last year.  Gary worked and worked on it, to no avail.   So off we went to a reputable appliance dealer last year to look at other stovetops.  We had a contractor that they recommended come to our house to give us an estimate of what it would cost for a new stovetop to be inserted along with an exhaust system, and some new countertops while we were at it. 

As we tried to make our decision, we had some unexpected financial expense occur, so we put our possible kitchen plans on hold.  I’ve actually managed just fine as I’ve cooked with the loss of a burner….a large burner, to boot.  Even the extra Thanksgiving and Christmas cooking wasn’t a problem.  Yes, there are times I’ve missed that broken back burner but I’m very thankful for the one that does work.

 

 

I’m thinking of those stovetop burners today because this morning I read Psalm 13.  No, David wasn’t talking about JennAir stovetops, but in a sense he was talking about a saying we often hear about back burners.  We have a saying about something we will deal with later, or something that is put out of our mind for awhile.  We say we have, or we will, put that on the back burner.

But have you ever felt like YOU are what’s on the back burner?  Do you ever feel like your life has been derailed by events you can’t control, and that things are at a standstill?  Do you question why things have turned out this way, and why God seems to be either silent or not changing things the way you want?

If anyone had a reason to feel like he was on the back burner of life, David did.  He played music for King Saul, was beloved by the people, a champion in battle, and was to be the next King of Israel.  But David ended up running for his life from the murderous King Saul.  David slept in caves as he hid in the mountains with his rag-tag group of followers.  There seemed no end in sight for him…..no answers to his questions or his prayers.

“How long, O Lord?  Will you forget me forever?” David asked God in Psalm 13.  “How long will you hide your face from me?”

Then David does what he’s always done….he prays.  He prays even though he’s prayed many times before, and still seems to receive no answer.  I’ve been there.  Have you?  “You pray and pray and God does not pay attention; He hides His face, you say; you plead and cry and there is no relief.  So what do you do?  You go right on praying, of course!  To Whom?  To the God Who has not heard.  Is there any other?  This is lousy logic but excellent faith.”  (Dale Ralph Davis)

Sometimes all we have when we’re on that back burner of life is faith, even when we don’t feel like God hears us.  We know in our head that He hears, but we don’t see it and we don’t feel it.  After all, didn’t the writer of Hebrews say that “Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen?” 

David’s assurance in his life, as he sat on that back burner, began as he said in Psalm 13:5, “But I have trusted in your lovingkindness.”  That word is the Hebrew word, “hesed.”  It’s love that refuses to let us go.  So no matter where we are, and no matter what we’re going through, as God’s children we can count on His love that keeps on keeping us, never letting go of us. 

What’s your back burner today?  Is it a chronic health condition that has you sidelined?  Do you have a difficult marriage?  Are you lonely and forgotten?  Have your children disappointed you deeply?  Have others been given the jobs or ministries that you used to do?  Is age catching up with you? 

Whatever your back burner experience is…..whatever is making you feel trapped or useless…..whatever is making you question God…..don’t allow this time to be wasted.   Don’t be like my left back burner, cold and dead.  Be like the other back burner, working away back there.  Keep praying, even if you feel like David and wonder if God is hiding His face from you.  Know that God loves you with a firm love that won’t let go. 

And know that being on that back burner doesn’t mean you’re abandoned.  It means that God has set you there for a time and for a purpose.  And during that back burner time, be working in whatever way you can for God.  Be like David, who wrote some of his most profound Psalms during his time on the back burner. 

Just see what God can do through you and with you during your time on the back burner of life.  God can cook up something amazing on those back burners!     

Lessons From the Rooted Redbud

We have three Redbud trees out in our back yard, standing alone in a little row.  Every spring they bloom beautifully and give us a lot of joy as we look at them from the house.  However, we began to notice over the past couple years that they were struggling.  They just weren’t as vibrant and full, especially the tree in the middle.  Finally, last year, we had to cut down that middle tree.   We felt it was just too far gone to have any hope of survival.

Weeks went by, and one day as I stood at our kitchen window, I noticed something between the two remaining Redbuds.  It looked like a clump of some sort.  Was it a pile of dead grass left from Gary’s mowing?  I soon forgot about it, but once again several days later I noticed it in the distance.   This time my curiosity got the best of me, so I walked down to the two trees to investigate.  I was a little surprised to see some small twigs poking out of the ground, complete with little leaves on them.  Could it be the Redbud still growing? 

Of course, I shouldn’t have been so surprised.  The following few weeks proved my guess to be true.  The chopped down Redbud was indeed growing again, and why shouldn’t it?  The Redbud roots were still in the ground, undamaged and alive.  Those roots were doing what Redbud roots do.  They were growing a new little tree, or at least the beginnings of a new tree.  So there between the two tall Redbuds stood this living, growing small tree.  It wasn’t showy…..it wasn’t big…..it was hardly noticeable…..but it was growing faithfully.

A couple weeks ago I was reading Daniel 6, the story of Daniel in the lion’s den.  Yet what captured my attention this time, more than the den of lions, was what brought Daniel to this point in his life.  Daniel had shown maturity and faithfulness over the years as he was held captive in Babylon.  There he was, along with his friends……young Jewish men in the middle of their enemies.  They continually obeyed God while living in very difficult circumstances, all the while being mature and respectful.  God blessed them for their faithfulness.  He gave them protection and He gave them responsible jobs within the Babylonian government.

Darius decided to appoint 120 assistants that would be in charge of his kingdom.  He appointed three commissioners to be in charge of the 120 assistants.  Daniel was one of those three commissioners.  As time went on, Daniel distinguished himself so much among the other commissioners and the assistants that Darius planned to appoint him over the entire kingdom.  This made the other commissioners and the assistants very angry.  They were jealous of Daniel, and so they decided to plot against Daniel……to find some corruption in him concerning his government job, and then to use that as grounds for expulsion.  However, they could find no grounds of accusation, so they went to Plan B.

Plan B was to devise a plot of some sort concerning Daniel’s religion that would at last give them grounds to be rid of Daniel.   They approached Darius with praise as they stroked his ego, telling him how almighty he was.  In fact, they managed to talk Darius into believing that he was so majestic that he should build an image of himself, and then enforce a law that everyone must bow to his image and pray to him for thirty days.  If anyone prayed to any other god during this thirty day period, then they would be cast into the den of lions.  Darius, full of himself, signed this law…..a law of the Medes and Persians that could not be revoked. 

Now Daniel knew about this law, of course.  After all, he was one of the three highest ranking rulers in the land.  So what did Daniel do?  We’re not told that he went into a rage, that he insisted on seeing the king, or that he stormed into the next commissioner meeting and demanded to know why he wasn’t involved in the planning of a new law.  Nope.  Instead, when Daniel knew that the document was signed, he just quietly went home.  Daniel 6:10 tells us what happened:  “…..he entered his house (now in his roof chamber he had windows open toward Jerusalem); and he continued kneeling on his knees three times a day, praying and giving thanks before his God, as he had been doing previously.”

In other words, Daniel just kept being faithful.  He continued to obey God.  He continued to grow.  He knelt as he always did, in front of his open window for all to see, including the hateful plotters.  And his conniving fellow workers came by agreement, we’re told - and just as they planned, they found Daniel praying before his God.  I’m sure they were beside themselves with satisfaction as they presented their evidence to Darius……evidence that Darius’ favorite was a law-breaker……along with the reminder of the new law, the one that couldn’t be revoked.  Darius was in a pickle, and soon Daniel was in the lion’s den. 

Just before Darius tossed Daniel to the lions, he said a most amazing thing.  Darius said to Daniel, “Your God whom you constantly serve will Himself deliver you.”  And we know the rest of the story, how God did just that.  He stopped the mouths of the lions, and Daniel was not the main course that night.  But what I noticed the most on my recent reading of this ageless story was the fact that Daniel was just quietly faithful.  He CONTINUED kneeling three times a day to pray, as he had always done.  Even Darius noticed as he said, “Your God whom you CONSTANTLY serve.”

You and I live in some pretty stressful times…..times that are particularly stressful for followers of Christ.  Our culture and our politics are full of craziness right now.  I’ve never talked to so many who are feeling burdened and even very worried about the future.  God’s Word is being rewritten by those who want it to say whatever would support their lifestyle.  Legislation is being enacted in order to legally defend their beliefs.  Christians are mocked, hated, ridiculed, and even arrested.  And though these times were prophesied and we have known that someday they would come, many of us find ourselves awake at night, wondering how bad it’s going to get. 

So I think of our little Redbud and I see a lesson.  I see faithfulness to grow….to grow from the roots that are deeply planted.  Just to grow, surrounded by trees much larger than it is.  To grow like Daniel, faithfully serving God in the midst of extremely difficult circumstances.  Daniel knew what he faced.  Lions…..very hungry lions!  Yet he just quietly and constantly obeyed God by praying as he always prayed, and trusting God to take care of him. 

So I want to say to all of us who are walking the narrow way, following God in this world where to be narrow is considered an insult, to just be faithful in the ways that you have always been faithful.  Be like Daniel.  CONTINUE to obey God, and CONSTANTLY serve Him, even if there might be some lions in our future.  Don’t bow to the pressure of this culture and to the pressure of large issues that we face.  Instead, let’s bow our knees to the one and only God in Whom we need to be deeply rooted.

The same God Daniel served is here for you and for me today.  And we do know the end of the story, don’t we?