Lessons From the Fire Ants

We just returned from a trip to Houston to see our daughter, Andrea, with a side trip to Dallas to see our son, Andrew, in an NHRA race there.   Oh, and I mustn’t forget to mention that we also enjoyed seeing our Granddogs, Darcy and Oakley.  Hey, it’s the closest I have to grandkids right now, so humor me.  In fact, the story I’m about to share involves these cute little doggies, in a way.

 

On our first evening there we headed right away to the dog park with Andrea so that Darcy and Oakley could have some outdoor play time before the park closed for the night.  Darcy and Oakley ran and jumped and rolled, and spent lots of time romping and splashing in the water.  They were so much fun to watch.  Soon we meandered off the gravel path and stood in the cool thick grass, talking to another dog owner and enjoying the happy dogs.  I had worn sandals instead of tennis shoes, and the grass felt damp and pleasant on my feet in the humid air. 

As we stood there talking, I noticed a faint stinging on my feet……especially my left foot.  I moved my foot a little, but the stinging persisted.  I thought that this grass must be pricklier than it seemed at first.  Before long, the stinging was increasing.  I again wondered why, but couldn’t see a reason as I looked down at my foot buried in the thick grass.  Finally, I was uncomfortable enough to raise my left foot up out of the grass……..and to my surprise, I saw tiny little ants crawling all over my foot.  The same was true of my right foot, though not as many ants had found their way to that side.  

Fire ants!  The stinging wasn’t coming from irritating grass, but from tiny fire ants.  I shook as many off as I could, and then went to the path, where I took my sandals off and continued to brush little ants off as quickly as I could.  They were between my toes, going up my legs, and caught in the folds and crevices of my sandals, as well.  Yuck!!!  When I was convinced that I had rid my feet and sandals of these attackers, I put my sandals back on and we continued to walk around the park.  Yet every now and then I would feel another sting, and would look down to find one miniature ant still on my foot.  

It was hard to believe that those sharp stings could come from such little creatures, but those tiny guys can pack a wallop.  I hadn’t been stung by fire ants since we lived in southern Alabama, when Gary was in flight school at Fort Rucker, over 30 years ago.   It was a memory I was wishing not to re-live.  However, soon the stinging sensation was gone, and other than a very few little dots on my feet, I was none the worse for the experience.

Or so I thought……and hoped.  Over the next few days, my foot has increasingly shown the effects of those small prickly bites.  The little dots on my feet have turned into larger and larger bumps.  They sometimes itch.  They sometimes sting.  And they look very large and ugly today…….like pimples on my feet and even between my toes.  I just thought I was escaping that experience largely unscathed, but not so.  I am reminded of those fire ants and their damage, both in the discomfort I feel and the unpleasant sight I see every time I look down at my feet.

Isn’t this just how sin is in our lives?  We set out on a path that is safe and protected as we follow God and obey His commands.  Soon, though, it’s so easy to veer off that path into a life that isn’t what He desires.  It feels good, though, just like that cool grass felt good to my feet.  What could be so wrong about this little diversion?  Isn’t everyone else doing this?  Come on!  Lighten up!  Don’t be so serious and intolerant.

Then we feel the first little sting, but we ignore it.  A few more stings…..and maybe we look around a little to see what’s causing that feeling, but we choose to disregard it.  Nothing appears very alarming, anyway.  Over time, though, the little stings become increasingly painful and more of our life is affected by the discomfort caused by our decisions.  And hopefully, we run……we run away as fast as we can from our sin.  We change our direction, we confess to the Lord our wrong, and we set out on the right path once more.

Yet sadly, even though we are forgiven, we often will bear the consequences of our sin……sometimes for the rest of our lives.  At first it may not seem like our sin is any big deal, but it is.  Like Moses told the people of Israel in Numbers 32:23, “Be sure your sin will find you out.”  In other words, you will suffer for your sin.  Sorry.  I didn’t say that.  God did.  The longer we stand in that grass and let the ants crawl on us, the more we will bear the results of our choices.  Days, months, even years later, the choices we made yesterday can……and often does……greatly affect us and those we love.  

Thank God for His grace, and His redemption, and His forgiveness.  Thank God that He doesn’t hold our sin over our heads and beat us up with it every day.  Thank God for His love, and for His patience in directing us back to the right path.

Yet what if I hadn’t gone off into the grass in the beginning?  What if I had worn the right shoes?  What if I had run away quickly when I felt the first sting?  Then today I wouldn’t be looking down at these painful, ugly bumps on my feet.  My story today would have been very different……much less harmful to me, for sure.

Don’t veer off God’s path for your life by walking into what feels good and looks great.  Don’t be wearing the wrong shoes.  Flee temptation, as Paul said to do.  Put on your running shoes!  Don’t linger in sin, enjoying the moment until they become many moments.  Don’t ignore God’s conviction in your heart.  Don’t let the stings of long-term sin leave you with irreparable damage.  God will forgive, but He won’t necessarily take away the natural consequences of our willful actions.  

Painful lessons.  May we all use wisdom in where we walk. 

What I Would Have Missed

I was busy last night.  How many days could I start a story with that same simple sentence?  Gary and I are leaving tomorrow for Houston.  We get to spend the weekend with Andrea…..YAY!!!......and she is going with us to see Andrew in a race on Sunday…….double YAY!!!  You know how it is before a trip.  So much to do….so much to remember…..and since we have a caregiver coming in to stay with Aaron and Jackson, it seems to double my busy load.  

I was checking items off my to-do list while thinking of others that I had neglected to write down.  Scurry here, scurry there…….and I heard a loud THUMP!  I looked out of the bedroom door and saw Aaron standing there at the head of the stairs, looking in my direction…..his animal print blanket slung over his shoulder and his back-scratcher in his hand.  He had hit the wooden door of the linen cabinets there in the hall.  We had a little “staring at each other” session before I asked him why he had hit the door.  I knew he wanted my attention, but I wanted to hear his version.  He then told me that he was bored……and I then told him a few things about not hitting the door, etc., etc.

He lumbered down the stairs while I continued my packing and organizing……my scratching off the to-do list and adding to the to-do list.  Finally, I was nearly finished with what I had wanted to accomplish for the evening.  I thought about slipping down to my computer to catch up on emails and Facebook.  Important stuff, you know.  But I thought of Aaron.  I thought of the real reason that he had hit the linen cabinet door.  He wasn’t just bored.  He wanted some time with me.  That loud bang on the cabinet door conveyed much more to me that he was able…..or willing….to say.

By this time he had gone back to his room.  I found him sitting there at his desk, headphones on and movie playing.  Godzilla…..the old version…..1998.  I knew what I was getting into as I leaned over and asked Aaron if he wanted to play a game of Skip-Bo.  I was going to hear all about Godzilla……every detail.  What kind of monster….where did he come from…..how he breathed fire……what his feet looked like……and his tail……and his ugly face…..

Aaron was so happy when I asked him if he wanted to play Skip-Bo.  There we were, him talking rapidly……about Godzilla……while I shuffled the cards.  We soon were playing our first game and I was feeling relaxed.  I ignored my tablet nearby and my phone close at hand. I simply focused on Aaron.  He talked and talked about a variety of things, happily and freely, as we played cards.  

And then he stopped and he looked at me, making direct eye contact and lowering his voice while he said, “Mom, do you know what Rosie is to me?”  Rosie is Aaron’s special friend.  So I just stopped and I looked back into his blue eyes…..and asked him to tell me what Rosie is to him.  

“She talks to me and she agrees with me,” he began.  He proceeded to tell me that he and Rosie say things to each other, like when they went to Burger King, he said…..and Rosie pointed something out to him as they were leaving the restaurant.  He told me that his other friend, Shauna, doesn’t do that.  She doesn’t point things out to him like Rosie does, and she doesn’t ask for Aaron’s opinion like Rosie does.  Shauna is sweet and wonderful, but Rosie is……well, Rosie. 

Aaron continued trying to describe Rosie.  “She makes me feel great,” he said.  He spoke from his heart, not full of excitement but full of softness.  This whole thing was so unlike Aaron.  He wasn’t being loud or silly or using words he thinks are funny but aren’t.  He was sincere, and he was so normal.  Please don’t take that the wrong way, but Aaron rarely speaks like this.  I was just treasuring this moment and sitting there in amazement, hoping it would last awhile longer.

“Rosie and I,” he said, “we have a bond.”  There I sat, wondering what my face conveyed.  Then Aaron said, “Mom, what’s a bond?”  And then my face conveyed amusement as I laughed.  He was repeating what he had heard, but immediately showed that he didn’t really understand what on earth a bond is anyway.  He just knows that he and Rosie have one.  So once again I talked to him about special friendships, how sometimes we just click with someone, and that special bond is formed. 

“You know what?” he asked.  “I’m older than her and she still likes me!”  We laughed together this time and soon the moment was over.  Aaron had found my little plastic rooster that Mary Beth gave me.  It has special meaning and I keep it on my kitchen window sill above the sink.  Aaron had picked it up and was comparing the rooster’s feet to Godzilla’s feet……and soon was trying to sneak the rooster into his pocket so he could take it to his room, never to be seen again.

I told him no…..that the rooster was mine.  “That rooster is dumb for you but it’s cool for me, Mom!” he laughingly replied.  Yep, old Aaron is back.  Sincere, heartfelt conversation was over.  But I was still relishing that time, and enjoying the remainder of our game.

And you know what else I would have missed if I had not stopped for this time with Aaron?  I would have missed this.

 

See how Aaron arranges his cards in his discard piles?  Isn’t that so cool?  He laughed when I wanted to take a picture, and he was also quite proud that I thought this was important enough for me to want to photograph.  

Important enough to photograph…..and important enough to take the time to really see and to really listen.  I get tired, especially at night.  I want “me time” as much as anybody…..and I get plenty of that, trust me.  But last night I was once again reminded that it’s so worth it to stop……to focus on Aaron…..to listen and to absorb what this special son of mine is saying and thinking.

He teaches me……he delights me……he challenges me.  I need to accept it all……not to brush it off in the midst of my busy schedule or in my tiredness or frustration.  And when I do take the time, usually when it’s least convenient, is so often when I get those special blessings…..those glimpses into his heart, where he is real and sincere…..beyond all the gruff and the loudness.

God teaches me so much through Aaron….if I but take the time to listen.

Tennis Elbow?

I think the word that would describe our weekend with Aaron would be “fixated.”  In other words, “stuck.”  By bedtime last night, Gary and I were full to the brim internally and our ears were exhausted from all of Aaron’s talking.  How could he possibly have so much to say over and over about the Predator/Alien movie he’s watching?  And about his elbow?  

He woke up yesterday with a sore elbow.  “Mom, my elbow is sore,” he told me when he came downstairs after getting out of bed.  “I think I hurt it in my sleep.”  We discussed all the possibilities……or some of them…..as to why his elbow might be sore.  He was sure that he had slept funny, but it seemed more than that, so I told him about how it might be inflamed from repetitive motions……as he stood there bent over, rapidly rubbing his hands together in excitement because we were talking about HIM……and he asked, “What’s repetitive motion?”   So I pointed out the obvious one he was doing at that moment, and he grinned as he rubbed his hands together even more.

And then I made a mistake.  I told him that sometimes this condition is called Tennis Elbow.  I knew that I had just added a heap of confusion to Aaron’s literal brain as I lamely sat there trying to explain Tennis Elbow.  Of course, the first thing Aaron said after my expert explanation, was:  “I don’t play any games!”  Meaning games of tennis, of course, and so I had to back pedal and explain my explanation…….and finally I just told him that his elbow was sore and we didn’t know why, but we did know that it wasn’t from tennis……so just forget Tennis Elbow.  

I poured myself another cup of coffee.

He spied the Sunday coupons and he hovered over me as I looked through them, checking to see if I wanted to buy another Sunday paper.  He wasn’t thrilled about the number of coupons he had to cut, reminding me of his sore elbow, so  I asked him if he wanted me to remove the ones that I knew I wouldn’t use.  

“No!” he replied.  “I want to cut them!”  I knew that’s what he would say.  I hadn’t been able to secretly remove them before he came downstairs, so now he had more to cut than usual……but cut them he would, sore elbow or not.   I asked him if he wanted me to cut them today as he mentioned his elbow again, but he told me that I don’t cut them right and so he would do them…..even with his sore elbow.  And I knew that his elbow was going to be one of his fixations on this day.

Another cup of coffee was in order.

The morning and the rest of the day was also consumed with his Alien vs. Predator movie that he was watching.  Gary and I have watched clips, listened to endless explanations of scenes, tried to answer questions, told him why we don’t care for that movie, explained that we don’t plan to watch that movie with him……and wondered why we let him have those movies.  I’ll admit that it’s hard to find good movies that he enjoys, and movies that don’t have some language are next to impossible to find.  

“Mom, they shouldn’t use cuss words.  They should just use WORDS!” he said.  He’s so right, and I question again the wisdom of some of our choices for him.  He enjoys some really good movies, but he also likes the alien ones.  On Friday, his group went to see Dolphin Tale at the theater.  Sadly, he was not impressed with this good movie for some reason.  He thought it was a “young child’s movie.”

He told me that some of the clients were crying after the movie was over.  I don’t know about that, but he was also not impressed with those “cry babies,” as he calls them.  But I told him that sometimes this is a sign of a really good movie.  He immediately connected to what I was trying to say.  

“But Alien vs. Predator is not like that?  It’s not a cry movie?” he asked.  I agreed, but he was still not convinced that Dolphin Tale was better.  And he continued with his alien fixation for the remainder of the day.  Exhausting.  No amount of coffee could compensate for that.

Aaron relaxing in the mulch

 

 

I took him out to a couple stores in the afternoon.  At each place he greeted the staff with this:  “I have a sore elbow!”  And then he stood there waiting for their response as they just looked at him in discomfort, unsure of what to say, and I tried to fill in the blanks.  But nothing stops Aaron, and he continued to tell them about his elbow and why he thought it was sore and repetitive motion and sleeping wrong and if he holds it like this it doesn’t hurt and if he holds it like this it does hurt…..

It’s one of those situations where I just look at Aaron in both amusement and embarrassment, honestly……and I am once again reminded, with great confirmation, that my son has autism and has no filters.  DUH!  Don’t I know that by now?  Well, yes, I do……but seeing it in full force like this never ceases to amaze me.  It amazes those poor store clerks as well.  

And laughter…..oh my goodness, does he make me laugh!  “Mom!” he said on the way home.  “Today I sneezed in the bathroom.  I got that sneeze thing on the mirror!”  

Gross.  I need to get my nerve up today to go in there and clean it.

Aaron relaxing while watching a little football

 

He laughed as he watched a court scene on television and as always, was amused as the lawyers yelled, “Objection!!”  And the judge responded with, “Sustained!”   “Mom?” he asked.  “Do they use scientific words in the courtroom?”

Speaking of using words……which Aaron does with great expertise…..sometimes…..I was reminded of how blunt he can be.  Again, no filters on that boy.  Like the day he got frustrated with me and then responded with, “Mom, did you notice how I stopped myself from saying ‘jerk’?”  In some strange way, that required praise from me.

So last night before bed, Aaron said, “Mom, Barb had some Jolly Rogers candy at Paradigm!”  

“Jolly Ranchers?” I asked with a smile.

“Yeah!” he affirmed.  “Jolly Ranchers!  She gave me some.  She said her children don’t like them.  I told her that her kids are weird.”

Thankfully, Barb understands Aaron…..and if he did indeed say this, then I know that she took it in stride.  But I still explained to Aaron why he shouldn’t say that Barb’s children are weird.   I didn’t say it was the pot calling the kettle black.  I wouldn’t want to hurt Aaron’s feelings.

Besides, he would just say that he doesn’t have a pot or a kettle.

Sigh.