It has been, to say the least, a very rough 2 months. Since Evan's hours were cut at work...it has been so hard. The bottom fell out and we were left with so little. We scrambled to put ourselves on a TIGHT budget. Some weeks I just cannot believe we still have food to eat...but we do. It amazes me as I stand back, throw my hands in the air, and tell God we can't do it alone...that the cabinets remain full. Our meals are certainly creative most of the time but our plates are full and we are fed. I have seen the kindness of others come to our aid without ever asking...God provides.
I began searching for a job in October. Lets just say...the pickings are SLIM for a woman who chose to stay home to care for her children. I have gotten so very discouraged. I made Evan promise not to tell anyone in his family. Why, you ask...because I am afraid of failing. I am embarrassed when I am not hired after each interview. I am ashamed and I feel like I am not good enough. Then came December...
In almost an instant I knew why my Father had not provided a job yet! I was constantly bombarded with orders from friends and online customers for my sewing. I was even invited to bring items to sell at a local drug store. I was just too busy to worry about the next month. My personal goal was to have a job by the end of December...but that was 30 days away. But, as each day passes my fear continues to grow. What are we going to do?
As a way to save money in giving gifts to our friends and family (along with my making 99% of the gifts) we decided to make cookies to put in tins. It was during the final 2 batches that the inevitable happened...my mixer burned out. That familiar panic began to bubble up inside. What were we going to do? We can't afford a new mixer! We can't afford to buy other gifts! WHY does this stuff happen??? But, it just happens. Things break! I told myself, God will bring me another mixer. God knows we don't eat out anymore. God knows I need a mixer to make food for my family. God will bring me a mixer. In the meantime, I employed my husband to mix the rest of the cookie batter...he needed to work those muscles while on his vacation!!! And...the cookies were baked...given...and enjoyed!
I knew God would have to provide...we simply needed this tool in our kitchen and often! I foolishly began to daydream that a red or black Kitchen Aid Stand Mixer (you know the one;-))...but that was unrealistic...possible but not likely. I threw my hands up, God, I need a mixer...and went back to work. It just so happens that my sister-in-law had recently been given her own Kitchen Aid for Christmas (swooooon!!!!) and had her old one ready for a new owner. BAM...my new (used) mixer!!!
December is almost over. I am still unemployed. I don't understand what God is doing. I am afraid...very afraid. I have prayed and prayed and cried and prayed some more. Still no job...no light at the end of this tunnel. I am afraid of living on so little. I am afraid of what we might lose if this financial situation continues. I am scared. I don't know what to do. But never once in these last 2 months have we gone without a meal. We have not been late on any bill. We have had unexpected blessings all along...making life a little brighter. God provided all the way. It was never a "kitchen aid mixer" but it was good enough to keep us going. I don't know what will happen and I am so afraid. But I know...I know we will be taken care of. Although I would like to have abundance I have to be okay with enough.
God, I will try. I didn't want to say this but, I will walk this road...if you want me to.
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Monday, October 10, 2011
The aroma of home...
I made chili today. I make it the good way...I let it simmer all day in the crock pot. Slowly the entire house smells like my chili. It was cold and rainy outside but inside it was the perfect toasty warm. It it one of those nights when you want to cuddle up in your favorite sweats under a blanket and just enjoy whatever is going on around you. It is times like this when I can feel so so so far away from home. Nights like this are what make up a Pennsylvania winter. What I am trying to say (without feeling the shame and disgust that rush toward me) is that I miss my mother. I know that I don't miss being mistreated...I miss the mother that she should have been. It is the smells of fall, winter, Thanksgiving, and Christmas that are reminders of what was lost...they echo in the void in my heart of what will never be fulfilled. My mother will never be my mother. She will never welcome me home. I feel much like an exile here in Georgia. My heart aches to be able to look forward to going home...if even to celebrate holidays. I ache to just have a home there to go...like I am a "home" to my children. I am someone who will praise your scribbles, or your buttoning up your pajama shirt...I am a good mom in the ways that matter. My failings will never overshadow my victory and my love for my children. I will never regret cutting my mother out in order to become who I am today and who I will be years from now. Cutting her out was necessary and it was not a mistake. I mourn what should have been. I love my husband and my children and wherever I go I want them with me and where they go I want to be...but why do I feel a gaping need to have our home somewhere else. I want to go home. I find myself with teary eyes often this season...more so than the seasons past...homesick just doesn't seem to cover the pain that I feel. I want what was taken. I thought the longer I stayed on my journey to healing the less and less I would feel this way come the holidays and the cooler weather. Yet every year the longing and the pain are deeper and deeper. I catch myself saying to my husband, "I want to go home." too many times. I try to keep it to myself so I don't make him feel that he hasn't already given me whatever I need because he sure has. I guess those times I lament to him are when the pain just becomes too much and it spills out. God, I want to go home. I feel empty now. I try to be content, you know I do!! I still feel empty.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Grace and Forgiveness?
I wonder what God would say if I asked Him...if this, my life, is how it was all meant to be. Is the past what is in the script? I mean, I know it can't be changed...it is what it is...but, since He knew all that would happen even as He was hanging the sun in its place...is this all as it was meant to be? Maybe, maybe not. I know that He knew...He gave me a way out either way. Other's made the choice not to love me. As sad as that is and as painful a reality it is...there was a way out. Certainly not an easy way...but a way from the darkness into the light. God was always in control. He never let them kill me...both physically and emotionally. I still breath, though some days I feel like any breath brings pain...as if my body should be black and blue...but there is life still. It hurts to know my parents thought nothing of me. It hurts to realize I wasn't enough to make them change or choose me...to love me. But it was never my fault. They made choices and I am separate from that...now. Don't ever think I didn't let it take me over. Don't ever think I didn't let them harden me. I believed every lie my mother told me. I believed I was what little she thought of me. I believed my father wouldn't want me as I was. No one could penetrate those lies because it was much safer to believe a lie. It is safer to live the lie than to ever have to take a chance...to have hope and trust. I guess I almost let them kill me.
My father, the man with half the credit for my existence and I have never seen his face. There is an emptiness still because there is so much I do not know. To all those who have sat with me in "recovery" know that I never speak of him much. I would no sooner let you stand on an actual open would either. My father's abandonment cuts me deep. It brings as much shame as it brings pain. I often wonder if people think that I must not be worth anything if my own father saw nothing worth sticking around. I know it seems ridiculous but I grew up with that as if it just...was. I ache to know what it must feel like to be a daughter...let alone to say, "this is my father". What do those words taste like? It must feel so comforting, so peaceful to point to a man and know he stood over you during your most tender years. What does it feel like to be a daughter...to be looked at with pride? No one I know can say, "she is mine!" about me. I know God does...but oh to hear an other's audible voice say to me, "My daughter, I am so proud of you." I feel such a great great sense of loss. A stronger person might say that all this is what God will say to them when they reach Heaven, and I know that He will...sweet Jesus! But I would be lying if I said that I don't want these things here on earth. I want my mother to love me. I want my father to come back and just...hold on to me. I want to sit in his lap (who cares if I am over 30 and a mother myself!!) and listen to him breath and hear him tell me...that he is proud of me. Why do other people get this and not me? I sometimes walk through a day and do what needs to be done. I sit with my husband and my children and I think...everyone near me is someones child. Everyone near me sits (or has sat) in their father's lap and will never know a life without it. I feel so alone sometimes. Evan has family, good and strong family scattered all over. I just don't. It is funny how in the same instant I can feel alone but so grateful to have what I have.
I have been thinking about forgiveness and what that might mean. I think of the things my husband has had to forgive me for and I know that it would ruin me if he let those things keep him from me. If I only function in our marriage because of his grace...should I not give grace in return? If I only know love and truth and eternity because God has cast my sins as far from me as the east is from the west...how can I hold onto such things?
I have to say that I don't really know what this forgiveness would look like. As you can tell, I still hurt over what was done. But that pain comes from missing out on what every human being should receive from their parents, right? I don't think I could ever say that I am glad my parents didn't love me. It may always make me sad because I missed out on knowing that kind of love and being cherished. I would have to mourn a great loss. Am I supposed to not feel that pain anymore in order to say "I forgive you"? I would have to forgive my father for leaving me behind with a woman who beat me. I would have to forgive my father for not being there to give me away on my wedding day. I would have to admit that he isn't coming back. Can I do that? Can I let that go? Can I accept that on this earth...for the rest of my life I will never be a daughter? Can I go another 50 years with the spots of my father and even my mother just being...vacant? I want to be obedient and give grace because I have received it, but what does that look like?
My father, the man with half the credit for my existence and I have never seen his face. There is an emptiness still because there is so much I do not know. To all those who have sat with me in "recovery" know that I never speak of him much. I would no sooner let you stand on an actual open would either. My father's abandonment cuts me deep. It brings as much shame as it brings pain. I often wonder if people think that I must not be worth anything if my own father saw nothing worth sticking around. I know it seems ridiculous but I grew up with that as if it just...was. I ache to know what it must feel like to be a daughter...let alone to say, "this is my father". What do those words taste like? It must feel so comforting, so peaceful to point to a man and know he stood over you during your most tender years. What does it feel like to be a daughter...to be looked at with pride? No one I know can say, "she is mine!" about me. I know God does...but oh to hear an other's audible voice say to me, "My daughter, I am so proud of you." I feel such a great great sense of loss. A stronger person might say that all this is what God will say to them when they reach Heaven, and I know that He will...sweet Jesus! But I would be lying if I said that I don't want these things here on earth. I want my mother to love me. I want my father to come back and just...hold on to me. I want to sit in his lap (who cares if I am over 30 and a mother myself!!) and listen to him breath and hear him tell me...that he is proud of me. Why do other people get this and not me? I sometimes walk through a day and do what needs to be done. I sit with my husband and my children and I think...everyone near me is someones child. Everyone near me sits (or has sat) in their father's lap and will never know a life without it. I feel so alone sometimes. Evan has family, good and strong family scattered all over. I just don't. It is funny how in the same instant I can feel alone but so grateful to have what I have.
I have been thinking about forgiveness and what that might mean. I think of the things my husband has had to forgive me for and I know that it would ruin me if he let those things keep him from me. If I only function in our marriage because of his grace...should I not give grace in return? If I only know love and truth and eternity because God has cast my sins as far from me as the east is from the west...how can I hold onto such things?
I have to say that I don't really know what this forgiveness would look like. As you can tell, I still hurt over what was done. But that pain comes from missing out on what every human being should receive from their parents, right? I don't think I could ever say that I am glad my parents didn't love me. It may always make me sad because I missed out on knowing that kind of love and being cherished. I would have to mourn a great loss. Am I supposed to not feel that pain anymore in order to say "I forgive you"? I would have to forgive my father for leaving me behind with a woman who beat me. I would have to forgive my father for not being there to give me away on my wedding day. I would have to admit that he isn't coming back. Can I do that? Can I let that go? Can I accept that on this earth...for the rest of my life I will never be a daughter? Can I go another 50 years with the spots of my father and even my mother just being...vacant? I want to be obedient and give grace because I have received it, but what does that look like?
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Weeps for you
As my husband and I face the fact that we need a serious budget and we have decided to use Dave Ramsey's material I am faced with some hidden scars. Scars that I have let control our finances and my spending. We are certainly not living in poverty but are not well-to-do. We find ourselves somewhere on the far side of comfortable. As my husband has been pushing this whole budget stuff I have begun to realize the deep hole I have dug. I am one of those emotional spenders. Much like a person who eats their emotions...I am one who enjoys "retail therapy". In the 7 years now that I have had to face my past and cut my mother out, etc. I must have been filling the loss up with what was taken...mainly just things most people enjoy. "Take that you evil, greedy B**CH!". But to make up for "lost time" I went overboard!! My mother didn't spend money on me. If she did HAVE to she did it begrudgingly and poured out guilt all over what was purchased. To this day, when I purchase something for myself it has guilt woven into it. I wear it (or use it) with this guilt "defect" running through it because it is all that I deserve. It almost feels like a lie. "You think I look nice but you don't know the truth...I don't deserve to look nice or have nice things." In these 3 years or so we have been in our struggle with Eli I have been so angry that I cannot control what is happening to my son. How does a mommy out of control ease her child's pain? She buys him a toy after every doctors appointment...and there have been so many. I couldn't face the truth so I soothed both of us with a toy. I fought the invisable foe with my credit card and it felt good!!! "Take that you friggin autism, speech delay, severe developmental delay...or whatever you are!!!". I needed to see some joy on my son's face after his turmoil. That in itself isn't always so bad, I know, but there is just a point when it is literally too much. Now, I have to fess up and come clean about the mess I have made. I have to stand in front of my husband one more time and make a painful confession. That man deserves many mansions, I am telling you!!! As I prepare for a very pain filled confession I am reminded of the many times I have felt the weight of facing truth throughout this journey. Right now I feel that familiar weight in my chest as if this time it will kill me. This time it is too much. I remember standing outside the home where we had our group counseling sessions (Cindy's) and begging myself to just get back in the car and drive away. What waited in that house was sure pain...it was as if I were going to be stripped naked in a room full of people. It was as if the tears would sting and all the bruises from my mother would be felt all at the same time. But I always went back. Of course I drove away a few times...but I went back. I believed that the battle was the gateway to being rid of all that S**T!!! I was promised that this journey was the way. I was promised that there was a different Ashley on the other side of the dark swamp. It was the hardest time in my life. Facing the truth made the time being my mother's victim seem easy. Continuing to live as a victim even after she was long gone would have been easier than walking through the threshold of that house. The times I went were out of obedience...simply knowing that was the right thing to do. I didn't like it but it was better than feeling guilt over not going. It took so long but each time I went...each time I faced even small truth, I chipped away the crusty shell my mother, my father, and any other person had poured out over me. I "kicked it in the crotch", if you will. And here I am! This debt crap is certainly not the highest mountain I have ever climbed. If my husband can find forgiveness (and it may take some time), the sting of the truth will soon fade.
After my last post I got so many emails from you all. Ha ha, it is as if you all know that I obsessively check email to see your validation which always comes from my faithful! Anyway, I knew it would touch you as women because AS women we all seem to deal with the weight issue. Some of us it is a choice...some of us it was not so much. For some of us weight is our dark swamp...a journey through "fire" to clean up the mess someone else made for us. And in every swamp there are hidden dangers. As we tackle the surface the hidden dangers (the forgotten memories...the painful triggers) threaten us...to the very core. We feel the threats, the pain, the truth in our bones. To those of you in that very swamp...I love you. It isn't fair...but it still is... If only my soul could be as beautiful as yours. Your body is only temporary in this life...(or maybe not;-)) For you my heart is tender and my soul cries out for you as you tackle your swampy future. I don't care what that person looks like on the outside because on the inside she is healed...she is clean...she is redeemed!!! There IS a promise of a different you at the other end...take that to the bank. And as for those that have or will threaten your life...give them a good kick in the "you know what's". It will sting and you will cry, curse, etc. but it is now you and God...those other jerks are just dust. You know what threshold you need to walk through...sweetie, that is half the battle!!
I am so thankful for music, once again. I am refreshed whenever an artist can produce a song that can remind me of where I have come and make me thankful I am not there any longer. I was telling a friend a few weeks ago that I feel like there are two kinds of faith. Faith that some have breeded into them. Faith that is as much a part of them as their arms or legs. They think faith and cannot part from it...it is their firm foundation. There are those of us who have to break down the lies and build up a firm foundation often through some kind of recovery. Things in this life threaten us and we have a choice...we may not have Truth as our first reaction. We can fall back to the lies (easy) or we can choose (sometimes painfully) to "have faith" and remember what happened the last time we had to make such a choice. No faith is better than the other...no faith is rewarded more. Both carry us to an eternity with our Father. An eternity without being fatherless...oh, God, yes please!!! Anyway, I always sort of resented when people said that Jesus cried with me all those years. It kind of pissed me off to think of Jesus crying when I was being molested...um, INTERVENE!!!! As a parent I can understand a little more. There are things that happen to our children that cannot be helped. Sometimes it was our choice or even an other's choice and to intervene would make a mess. I wonder what makes God weep more...when we are being molested or knowing this is what will bring us to His arms eventually? Or which tears at Him more...love for the victim or love for the perpetrator? God loved my mother and still does. God loved my step father and still does. That is okay with me...today anyway;-) ...Oh, the song, right! I heard this song and it made me realize that thinking of Jesus crying isn't that He isn't intervening...love, true love, opens us to pain and joy...often at the same time. Maybe Jesus cries because he cannot send lightening bolts!!! Maybe Jesus cries about the day we will lay that very moment at His feet.
Weeps For You by Jonny Diaz
She's sitting in the pew on Sunday morning
Praying what the pastor says can change her broken life
And the rain outside has really started pouring
But the darkest clouds of all are the ones she feels inside
She looks up at Jesus carved in stained glass
And her heart feels as heavy as the sky
She wonders if he hears her desperate prayers
And is that rain or are those tears he's crying
Did you know that He weeps for you
Cause he knows what you're going through
Even when you feel lost and scared
He promises that he'll still be there
Did you know his heart breaks for you
and there is one thing that's always true
that in your worst of times you'll never cry alone
Did you know he weeps for you
He's sitting in the waiting room at St. Jude's
Holding his wife's hand and what little hope that's left
But when the doctor enters in his head is shaking
He says I am so sorry... but we tried our very best
Out of the corner of his eye he sees a painting
Of Jesus cradling a baby lamb
And he can see as he looks through his own tears
That the savior is now crying along with him
Did you know that He weeps for you
Cause he knows what you're going through
Even when you feel lost and scared
He promises that he'll still be there
Did you know his heart breaks for you
and there is one thing that's always true
that in your worst of times you'll never cry alone
Did you know he weeps for you
He never did promise that it would be easy
There are bumps in the road, no matter where you go
But he went before us..so we don't have to go alone
Did you know that He weeps for you
Cause he knows what you're going through
Even when you feel lost and scared
He promises that he'll still be there
Did you know his heart breaks for you
and there is one thing that's always true
that in your worst of times you'll never cry alone
Did you know he weeps for you
After my last post I got so many emails from you all. Ha ha, it is as if you all know that I obsessively check email to see your validation which always comes from my faithful! Anyway, I knew it would touch you as women because AS women we all seem to deal with the weight issue. Some of us it is a choice...some of us it was not so much. For some of us weight is our dark swamp...a journey through "fire" to clean up the mess someone else made for us. And in every swamp there are hidden dangers. As we tackle the surface the hidden dangers (the forgotten memories...the painful triggers) threaten us...to the very core. We feel the threats, the pain, the truth in our bones. To those of you in that very swamp...I love you. It isn't fair...but it still is... If only my soul could be as beautiful as yours. Your body is only temporary in this life...(or maybe not;-)) For you my heart is tender and my soul cries out for you as you tackle your swampy future. I don't care what that person looks like on the outside because on the inside she is healed...she is clean...she is redeemed!!! There IS a promise of a different you at the other end...take that to the bank. And as for those that have or will threaten your life...give them a good kick in the "you know what's". It will sting and you will cry, curse, etc. but it is now you and God...those other jerks are just dust. You know what threshold you need to walk through...sweetie, that is half the battle!!
I am so thankful for music, once again. I am refreshed whenever an artist can produce a song that can remind me of where I have come and make me thankful I am not there any longer. I was telling a friend a few weeks ago that I feel like there are two kinds of faith. Faith that some have breeded into them. Faith that is as much a part of them as their arms or legs. They think faith and cannot part from it...it is their firm foundation. There are those of us who have to break down the lies and build up a firm foundation often through some kind of recovery. Things in this life threaten us and we have a choice...we may not have Truth as our first reaction. We can fall back to the lies (easy) or we can choose (sometimes painfully) to "have faith" and remember what happened the last time we had to make such a choice. No faith is better than the other...no faith is rewarded more. Both carry us to an eternity with our Father. An eternity without being fatherless...oh, God, yes please!!! Anyway, I always sort of resented when people said that Jesus cried with me all those years. It kind of pissed me off to think of Jesus crying when I was being molested...um, INTERVENE!!!! As a parent I can understand a little more. There are things that happen to our children that cannot be helped. Sometimes it was our choice or even an other's choice and to intervene would make a mess. I wonder what makes God weep more...when we are being molested or knowing this is what will bring us to His arms eventually? Or which tears at Him more...love for the victim or love for the perpetrator? God loved my mother and still does. God loved my step father and still does. That is okay with me...today anyway;-) ...Oh, the song, right! I heard this song and it made me realize that thinking of Jesus crying isn't that He isn't intervening...love, true love, opens us to pain and joy...often at the same time. Maybe Jesus cries because he cannot send lightening bolts!!! Maybe Jesus cries about the day we will lay that very moment at His feet.
Weeps For You by Jonny Diaz
She's sitting in the pew on Sunday morning
Praying what the pastor says can change her broken life
And the rain outside has really started pouring
But the darkest clouds of all are the ones she feels inside
She looks up at Jesus carved in stained glass
And her heart feels as heavy as the sky
She wonders if he hears her desperate prayers
And is that rain or are those tears he's crying
Did you know that He weeps for you
Cause he knows what you're going through
Even when you feel lost and scared
He promises that he'll still be there
Did you know his heart breaks for you
and there is one thing that's always true
that in your worst of times you'll never cry alone
Did you know he weeps for you
He's sitting in the waiting room at St. Jude's
Holding his wife's hand and what little hope that's left
But when the doctor enters in his head is shaking
He says I am so sorry... but we tried our very best
Out of the corner of his eye he sees a painting
Of Jesus cradling a baby lamb
And he can see as he looks through his own tears
That the savior is now crying along with him
Did you know that He weeps for you
Cause he knows what you're going through
Even when you feel lost and scared
He promises that he'll still be there
Did you know his heart breaks for you
and there is one thing that's always true
that in your worst of times you'll never cry alone
Did you know he weeps for you
He never did promise that it would be easy
There are bumps in the road, no matter where you go
But he went before us..so we don't have to go alone
Did you know that He weeps for you
Cause he knows what you're going through
Even when you feel lost and scared
He promises that he'll still be there
Did you know his heart breaks for you
and there is one thing that's always true
that in your worst of times you'll never cry alone
Did you know he weeps for you
Monday, July 11, 2011
A good week
What an interesting week since I last wrote. Needless to say the last time you heard from me I was mad!!! I make no excuses now. I was angry and I was hurt that God would ask my son to walk such a bumpy road in his little life. Before I get into that, let me walk you through a few things I experienced this week.
There is a woman at my church that is going through the diagnostic process with her child. Things are much worse for her. Her child is a teenager...able to speak...you get the picture. Anyway, we have been chatting off and on. She emailed me following our diagnosis apologizing over and over for venting her pains to me. She hadn't done that to anyone but her husband. She was sorry for burdening me. I was confused for about 12 seconds. It hit me (much like a ton of bricks) that not everyone knows the support that I have known for almost 7 years now. Just because people go to church does not mean they experience love, compassion, love, grace, patience, LOVE, and more patience like those of us reading this now. I have poured it all out several times in front of women who picked me up and nursed my wounds. I have cried, cursed, and yelled over these 7 years and have NEVER once been turned away. I have not met ridicule from those inside my trust. I have confessed sins in front of more people than those sins hurt an found love and forgiveness...no condemnation. What peace I have found. God's intended church is not in a building with stained glass...it has been found in you all...my trust. I thank you for listening to me over these years as I struggled to let go of the past and as I continue to walk this bumpy road.
I emailed a few college friends who also have children with special needs. It seems having to trust that God loves us even when we don't feel it is a common occurrence among Christian parents of children with special needs. The pain we feel over our children leaves a gaping wound. After many of us wrestle with God we are able to know He loves us and that that won't always make sense everyday. On friend told me that when she is home with her children they are who they are. There are no such things as delays or mental retardation. She can just enjoy her children for who they are and how they were created. When she takes them out in public she is reminded of how much they can't do. Then she feels the pain and is sad. What a relief I found in her words. It is okay to be sad when I see the gap between Eli and other kids his age but what a blessing to be able to enjoy him at home just the way he is. Things will be hard and there will be more trials to face in his life but we always have home where we can rest together.
This weekend we visited my husband's grandparents and went to church with them. You all will find the beginning of this story ironic. The Sunday School teacher opened with a question about how we were disciplined as a child...HA!!! I just kept my mouth shut and listened to those around me joke about the times their parents disciplined. As the hour was coming to an end one of the women said something I thought you all would have wondered about as I do. She is married with two boys. She is about my age and had a good income. She said that about a year ago she began to realise that she had had a pretty safe life. She had heard several testimonies from people that had walked through horrendous things and God had become more real to them. She marveled at having a testimony that would change someones life. She then proceeded to pray that if God saw fit to give her "rain". He did! I don't know the entire story but she is having a hysterectomy this week (she is my age), she'd had to quit her job, and her husband had had to change jobs when they had to move. WOW! I was laughing inside. Who would have thought that someone would ask God for what I am handed on, what feels like, a regular basis. I don't really know how to feel about this but I guess I don't really have to feel anything. She got what she asked for and God is more real to her. I take what I am given and we move on. My husband and I were discussing this on the way home. We know there are people in our lives who have never "suffered" and how sometimes that can cause us to wonder why is it all dumped on us. Here in our early 30's we have experienced more than some of those we know twice our age. Of course we never truly know what another is going through. Anyway, I mentioned my recent rant to God after Eli's diagnosis. My husband chuckled a little. I reassured him that I have always known deep down that there was a purpose. I know that this has all been scripted and mapped out. I let him know that I hate the purpose now. I want to stomp on the purpose and grind it into dust. I want to undo the purpose until it's presence has been forgotten. BUT I know there is a purpose. I wondered if my husband was ashamed that I always react in anger at things like these. He laughed again and told me I am much like David in that I am hot-headed! WHAT? ME?! Ha ha! We both agreed that I am not afraid to let God (and anyone in a 10 mile radius) know how I feel about something. I cry when I am happy and something touches me deep and I will scream when something makes me mad. In a word I am "passionate". I know my healing over these 7 years has opened the flood gates of my emotions, once locked away deep, DEEP inside. I am very self conscious of these things. They often overtake me an I am overwhelmed and vulnerable. I saw this as a flaw of someone very new to expressing what I feel. Little did I know that my husband has come to treasure this in me. Let's just say I can put another check on the bucket list...I always wanted to be treasured for being "every woman". Besides, in the last few months I have been on a search to define who I really am. Am I outdoorsy(yes)...do I like to cook/bake (no)...am I hotheaded(yes!!)? I wondered how God really made me. Did He grant me a personality of being outspoken? Does God really do that to people(HAHAHA)? It was always a source of shame in my childhood. Being loud and getting attention was a constant source of ridicule. I carry that still. But, is it futile to fight against that? Am I that woman who will volunteer for anything even before I am told what I am supposed to do? I am afraid so! Thank you Lord for making me this way! As Madeline says, "I 'yike' it!!". My next adventure is to see if I was created to be "sporty" or "outdoorsy". Growing up I wanted to play every sport and be a track star! Being forced to be a second care-giver to my siblings meant I was not allowed to do many extra curricular activities. I didn't ask to join anyway. It was common knowledge that I was not good at anything. HA! I am about to kick that untruth in the @$%!!!! I begin within the next few weeks to work up to running a 5K. I don't have my heart set on a 5K but more on having energy to enjoy activities with my kids and looking and feeling better. A 5K would just be some super sweet icing on the cake. We'll see. I hope I can do this...I HATE to exercise!!!!
There is a woman at my church that is going through the diagnostic process with her child. Things are much worse for her. Her child is a teenager...able to speak...you get the picture. Anyway, we have been chatting off and on. She emailed me following our diagnosis apologizing over and over for venting her pains to me. She hadn't done that to anyone but her husband. She was sorry for burdening me. I was confused for about 12 seconds. It hit me (much like a ton of bricks) that not everyone knows the support that I have known for almost 7 years now. Just because people go to church does not mean they experience love, compassion, love, grace, patience, LOVE, and more patience like those of us reading this now. I have poured it all out several times in front of women who picked me up and nursed my wounds. I have cried, cursed, and yelled over these 7 years and have NEVER once been turned away. I have not met ridicule from those inside my trust. I have confessed sins in front of more people than those sins hurt an found love and forgiveness...no condemnation. What peace I have found. God's intended church is not in a building with stained glass...it has been found in you all...my trust. I thank you for listening to me over these years as I struggled to let go of the past and as I continue to walk this bumpy road.
I emailed a few college friends who also have children with special needs. It seems having to trust that God loves us even when we don't feel it is a common occurrence among Christian parents of children with special needs. The pain we feel over our children leaves a gaping wound. After many of us wrestle with God we are able to know He loves us and that that won't always make sense everyday. On friend told me that when she is home with her children they are who they are. There are no such things as delays or mental retardation. She can just enjoy her children for who they are and how they were created. When she takes them out in public she is reminded of how much they can't do. Then she feels the pain and is sad. What a relief I found in her words. It is okay to be sad when I see the gap between Eli and other kids his age but what a blessing to be able to enjoy him at home just the way he is. Things will be hard and there will be more trials to face in his life but we always have home where we can rest together.
This weekend we visited my husband's grandparents and went to church with them. You all will find the beginning of this story ironic. The Sunday School teacher opened with a question about how we were disciplined as a child...HA!!! I just kept my mouth shut and listened to those around me joke about the times their parents disciplined. As the hour was coming to an end one of the women said something I thought you all would have wondered about as I do. She is married with two boys. She is about my age and had a good income. She said that about a year ago she began to realise that she had had a pretty safe life. She had heard several testimonies from people that had walked through horrendous things and God had become more real to them. She marveled at having a testimony that would change someones life. She then proceeded to pray that if God saw fit to give her "rain". He did! I don't know the entire story but she is having a hysterectomy this week (she is my age), she'd had to quit her job, and her husband had had to change jobs when they had to move. WOW! I was laughing inside. Who would have thought that someone would ask God for what I am handed on, what feels like, a regular basis. I don't really know how to feel about this but I guess I don't really have to feel anything. She got what she asked for and God is more real to her. I take what I am given and we move on. My husband and I were discussing this on the way home. We know there are people in our lives who have never "suffered" and how sometimes that can cause us to wonder why is it all dumped on us. Here in our early 30's we have experienced more than some of those we know twice our age. Of course we never truly know what another is going through. Anyway, I mentioned my recent rant to God after Eli's diagnosis. My husband chuckled a little. I reassured him that I have always known deep down that there was a purpose. I know that this has all been scripted and mapped out. I let him know that I hate the purpose now. I want to stomp on the purpose and grind it into dust. I want to undo the purpose until it's presence has been forgotten. BUT I know there is a purpose. I wondered if my husband was ashamed that I always react in anger at things like these. He laughed again and told me I am much like David in that I am hot-headed! WHAT? ME?! Ha ha! We both agreed that I am not afraid to let God (and anyone in a 10 mile radius) know how I feel about something. I cry when I am happy and something touches me deep and I will scream when something makes me mad. In a word I am "passionate". I know my healing over these 7 years has opened the flood gates of my emotions, once locked away deep, DEEP inside. I am very self conscious of these things. They often overtake me an I am overwhelmed and vulnerable. I saw this as a flaw of someone very new to expressing what I feel. Little did I know that my husband has come to treasure this in me. Let's just say I can put another check on the bucket list...I always wanted to be treasured for being "every woman". Besides, in the last few months I have been on a search to define who I really am. Am I outdoorsy(yes)...do I like to cook/bake (no)...am I hotheaded(yes!!)? I wondered how God really made me. Did He grant me a personality of being outspoken? Does God really do that to people(HAHAHA)? It was always a source of shame in my childhood. Being loud and getting attention was a constant source of ridicule. I carry that still. But, is it futile to fight against that? Am I that woman who will volunteer for anything even before I am told what I am supposed to do? I am afraid so! Thank you Lord for making me this way! As Madeline says, "I 'yike' it!!". My next adventure is to see if I was created to be "sporty" or "outdoorsy". Growing up I wanted to play every sport and be a track star! Being forced to be a second care-giver to my siblings meant I was not allowed to do many extra curricular activities. I didn't ask to join anyway. It was common knowledge that I was not good at anything. HA! I am about to kick that untruth in the @$%!!!! I begin within the next few weeks to work up to running a 5K. I don't have my heart set on a 5K but more on having energy to enjoy activities with my kids and looking and feeling better. A 5K would just be some super sweet icing on the cake. We'll see. I hope I can do this...I HATE to exercise!!!!
Friday, July 1, 2011
I was hoping my "writer's block" would have lifted by now but I just can't find that soothe that I usually get from pouring my words out.
Good news an bad news, Eli does not have autism. He has two of the three markers but they could not diagnose him autistic because his anti-social skills are not so severe. Instead, the results of the testing show Eli falls into the category of being mentally retarded. Right now they call it a severe developmental delay because he is only four. Our IQ isn't firmly established until we are age six. Unless Eli can catch up to his peers in 18 months his delay will become something permanent and he will be considered mentally retarded. This, as I am learning, is a very broad category ranging from profound to mild. Eli is/would be considered mildly mentally retarded. Why does that not make me feel better?
We all know what happens to kids in the "special" class in schools. Oh God, not my baby! WHY, WHY, WHY???? I am pissed! Only 2% of children even fall into this category...but still my baby stands among them! Why, why is my son made to suffer this? God, have I not suffered enough so that my children might be looked over? Why this...why pile this pain on top of everything else I/we have been made to endure? How could you do this to Eli? How could you...a loving Father? I don't understand! How can I be expected to be so much for Eli? I am not good enough for this! I don't have what it takes to mother a special needs child! I can't do this...you can't do this to Eli! He deserves more and I don't know how to give him what he needs. I don't know what I am doing! How can I, who was never mothered have so much expected of me? How could you?! How is this love?? I can't fix Eli's brain and make it work better or faster...that is YOUR job!! I can't do this! If it is left up to me...what will happen to Eli?
I can hear you all correcting me out there! I know the truth in my head...I know it is not in my hands but I guess heartbreak wins out for this moment. It is all still fresh. I guess you could say the wound is still bleeding. Everyone is happy he doesn't have Autism and they tell me to have faith that he can catch up in 18 months. Right after I visualized slapping them in the face a few times I want to scream at them and tell them they are stupid!!! Right now, I need to be realistic. It isn't time to take the "hands off faith" approach! Right now Eli functions on a two year old level. Meaning all his accomplishments are the same as Madeline's. But not for long. Maddie begins to pass her brother as she continues to reach milestones. This is just the beginning of the pain in that area of their relationship...but one thing at a time. I don't feel wise in not preparing my heart and our future for the possibility that Eli will, in fact, be intellectually disabled. I guess it doesn't really matter how that sounds because I am the one preparing my child for the fight OF HIS LIFE! I am the one who will have to answer the questions from both my children when they ask me, "Why?".
I am angry...as you can tell. I still don't understand why God expects so much of young children. I don't understand why the pain continues to be piled on my family. I know that anger is a proper response to this news and I know that I will figure this out. I may never be someone who responds to these things with immediate praise to God but God loves me no less. I remember thinking a few months ago that my heart had been broken in all ways possible...that I might never have to know real pain again. HA!!! I have been mentoring another mom from our church who finds herself at the beginning of such a diagnosis for her daughter and I was actually afraid that I had lost touch with the pain I felt over "mourning" my child's losses. HA!!! I hope you can all hear me laughing over how ridiculous those thoughts seem to me now!!
Writers block...gone!
Good news an bad news, Eli does not have autism. He has two of the three markers but they could not diagnose him autistic because his anti-social skills are not so severe. Instead, the results of the testing show Eli falls into the category of being mentally retarded. Right now they call it a severe developmental delay because he is only four. Our IQ isn't firmly established until we are age six. Unless Eli can catch up to his peers in 18 months his delay will become something permanent and he will be considered mentally retarded. This, as I am learning, is a very broad category ranging from profound to mild. Eli is/would be considered mildly mentally retarded. Why does that not make me feel better?
We all know what happens to kids in the "special" class in schools. Oh God, not my baby! WHY, WHY, WHY???? I am pissed! Only 2% of children even fall into this category...but still my baby stands among them! Why, why is my son made to suffer this? God, have I not suffered enough so that my children might be looked over? Why this...why pile this pain on top of everything else I/we have been made to endure? How could you do this to Eli? How could you...a loving Father? I don't understand! How can I be expected to be so much for Eli? I am not good enough for this! I don't have what it takes to mother a special needs child! I can't do this...you can't do this to Eli! He deserves more and I don't know how to give him what he needs. I don't know what I am doing! How can I, who was never mothered have so much expected of me? How could you?! How is this love?? I can't fix Eli's brain and make it work better or faster...that is YOUR job!! I can't do this! If it is left up to me...what will happen to Eli?
I can hear you all correcting me out there! I know the truth in my head...I know it is not in my hands but I guess heartbreak wins out for this moment. It is all still fresh. I guess you could say the wound is still bleeding. Everyone is happy he doesn't have Autism and they tell me to have faith that he can catch up in 18 months. Right after I visualized slapping them in the face a few times I want to scream at them and tell them they are stupid!!! Right now, I need to be realistic. It isn't time to take the "hands off faith" approach! Right now Eli functions on a two year old level. Meaning all his accomplishments are the same as Madeline's. But not for long. Maddie begins to pass her brother as she continues to reach milestones. This is just the beginning of the pain in that area of their relationship...but one thing at a time. I don't feel wise in not preparing my heart and our future for the possibility that Eli will, in fact, be intellectually disabled. I guess it doesn't really matter how that sounds because I am the one preparing my child for the fight OF HIS LIFE! I am the one who will have to answer the questions from both my children when they ask me, "Why?".
I am angry...as you can tell. I still don't understand why God expects so much of young children. I don't understand why the pain continues to be piled on my family. I know that anger is a proper response to this news and I know that I will figure this out. I may never be someone who responds to these things with immediate praise to God but God loves me no less. I remember thinking a few months ago that my heart had been broken in all ways possible...that I might never have to know real pain again. HA!!! I have been mentoring another mom from our church who finds herself at the beginning of such a diagnosis for her daughter and I was actually afraid that I had lost touch with the pain I felt over "mourning" my child's losses. HA!!! I hope you can all hear me laughing over how ridiculous those thoughts seem to me now!!
Writers block...gone!
Friday, June 17, 2011
My soul cried out
I have gotten used to tears. For a long while I was unable to find tears but as I began my healing, and began to let go a little, tears found me. I can remember taking a walk with Evan in the beginning. We walked past a cow close by, it Mooed LOUD...it scared me and I cried. It sounds odd, but for those of us who have severed our souls from feeling know any tears or feeling is a sign of life!!
We traveled to Canada this past weekend for the funeral of Evan's Grandma, Lena. It was a surprise to be able to go. We took Eli with us. The Warden family loves to gather and share...any and everything they "feel". We arrived Saturday afternoon and were gathered with the family by Saturday afternoon. It was time for everyone to share their memories of Nana. Not being a blood relative I didn't feel comfortable sharing in the "mourning". It didn't feel like my place. UNTIL, someone mentioned Lena's leaving a heritage and a legacy. I looked up at great great Aunt Honor, the five great Aunts, two great Uncles, grandparents, and 16 second cousins to my babies...what a heritage! This was it...this is the better life I wanted for my children...all because of Nana. I could have been the only one in the room because I don't remember much else as I began to weep. I cried out joy and peace. I had finally come face to face with the reality of how far removed my children are from my past. That room was busting at the seams with people in love with me and my children. I was brought out of a pit...out of Jericho...and woven into family where love and acceptance run deep. We laid Nana to rest and again the Pastor mentioned her legacy as he counted to children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren surrounding her graveside. My body shook in sobs again in thankfulness for the Grace of God in giving me the best. How unlikely was it that I would end up standing there...with the status of grand daughter (in-law)? Who am I that I might take up space among Nana's children? Who am I that God would give me and my children such a gift...such a heritage? The past will not overshadow the future. I thanked Nana as we said our final goodbyes. As we drove off I looked back at the casket...sitting all by itself in the rain with no one around. The mother in me felt wrong to be leaving her alone. I thought I should stay until she was in the ground where she would rest but I remembered what Popop said as they lowered her a little ways, " She is not here, she is risen!!". Even the night before at the viewing, Popop remembered something he had heard, "The shell is here but the nut has gone to heaven!" (Warden Humor). Nana lives in a different place. May she not be burdened by the weight of her crown in Glory!! Will I live my life as well as she? Will hundreds of people travel thousands of miles to say goodbye to me because I leave a wide heritage? Heaven is not so far away! Am I living as a Faithful Servant? Will God say to me, "Well Done"?
We traveled to Canada this past weekend for the funeral of Evan's Grandma, Lena. It was a surprise to be able to go. We took Eli with us. The Warden family loves to gather and share...any and everything they "feel". We arrived Saturday afternoon and were gathered with the family by Saturday afternoon. It was time for everyone to share their memories of Nana. Not being a blood relative I didn't feel comfortable sharing in the "mourning". It didn't feel like my place. UNTIL, someone mentioned Lena's leaving a heritage and a legacy. I looked up at great great Aunt Honor, the five great Aunts, two great Uncles, grandparents, and 16 second cousins to my babies...what a heritage! This was it...this is the better life I wanted for my children...all because of Nana. I could have been the only one in the room because I don't remember much else as I began to weep. I cried out joy and peace. I had finally come face to face with the reality of how far removed my children are from my past. That room was busting at the seams with people in love with me and my children. I was brought out of a pit...out of Jericho...and woven into family where love and acceptance run deep. We laid Nana to rest and again the Pastor mentioned her legacy as he counted to children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren surrounding her graveside. My body shook in sobs again in thankfulness for the Grace of God in giving me the best. How unlikely was it that I would end up standing there...with the status of grand daughter (in-law)? Who am I that I might take up space among Nana's children? Who am I that God would give me and my children such a gift...such a heritage? The past will not overshadow the future. I thanked Nana as we said our final goodbyes. As we drove off I looked back at the casket...sitting all by itself in the rain with no one around. The mother in me felt wrong to be leaving her alone. I thought I should stay until she was in the ground where she would rest but I remembered what Popop said as they lowered her a little ways, " She is not here, she is risen!!". Even the night before at the viewing, Popop remembered something he had heard, "The shell is here but the nut has gone to heaven!" (Warden Humor). Nana lives in a different place. May she not be burdened by the weight of her crown in Glory!! Will I live my life as well as she? Will hundreds of people travel thousands of miles to say goodbye to me because I leave a wide heritage? Heaven is not so far away! Am I living as a Faithful Servant? Will God say to me, "Well Done"?
Thursday, June 9, 2011
See you soon, Nana!
Most of you know that Evan's grandmother passed away on Monday after a very short battle with pancreatic cancer. Of course, when someone so close to you passes away your automatic response is to look back lovingly (hopefully) over the memories you have of them. Evan has a lifetime of fondness when it comes to his Nana. Most of those memories have to do with food...Nana could COOK!! I am highly suspicious of her sugar cookie recipe...many of us have tried but failed to reproduce that taste Nana offered in her cookies. I guess love is a real ingredient! That reminds me of the first time I met Nana (which is also my favorite memory). Even though they lived in Canada, Evan's grandparents traveled to Toccoa, GA for our wedding. I had heard about Nana and her rather crass humor but we had never met. She came through the procession line, leaned in to me and said, "I saw what you did (or something of the like)!!" She was referring to "the Kiss". I just laughed as all the rumors I had heard about Nana became truth to me. There is even a picture taken of my face as she is whispering this to me. My face is surprisingly has a "warm" reaction to this "welcome" into my new family. I was thinking today about that moment and the love ingredient. It never occurred to me to be embarrassed at the comment from my new Grandmother-in-law. Here was a sweet woman who had been praying for me my entire life...as she prayed for the future wife of her (favorite ;-)) grandson. To her, I was already family...already an acquaintance. She had known me since before I was born. She has spent 5 years in prayer over my own children. I feel peace knowing her blood courses through them...diluting the bad blood they inevitably inherited from my mother and father. It almost makes their lives look new everyday...freshly picked from what would be a minefield. I also remember the weeks after I cut ties from my mother. I was gravely afraid I was disobeying God by not honoring my mother. I pleaded with Evan to let us write/call his grandparents and present my case. If they told me I was honoring God than I would be at peace. I could not yet trust God...but I could trust that Nana and Popop would not let harm come to me. They, of course, gave me their blessing and ushered me into the beginnings of a search for more truth.
Only God and Nana know what she is doing right now. So REAL is Heaven when you know for sure the one who has passed is now, at this moment, sitting (or running, skipping, etc.) at the feet of the Father she so patiently waited to see. I think it fitting that Nana would go before all the rest of us. She goes there to prepare a welcome for her many generations that will follow her. All those "Heavenly" sugar cookies need time to cool;-) So go now Nana and we will see you in a little while.
P.S. I don't know why but I have a feeling Nana whispers in God's ear a prayer for my little Eli!!!
Only God and Nana know what she is doing right now. So REAL is Heaven when you know for sure the one who has passed is now, at this moment, sitting (or running, skipping, etc.) at the feet of the Father she so patiently waited to see. I think it fitting that Nana would go before all the rest of us. She goes there to prepare a welcome for her many generations that will follow her. All those "Heavenly" sugar cookies need time to cool;-) So go now Nana and we will see you in a little while.
P.S. I don't know why but I have a feeling Nana whispers in God's ear a prayer for my little Eli!!!
Saturday, April 16, 2011
A hangover...
I don't even know how to begin. I tried writing an email to our friends and family but having to be somewhat guarded or just brief isn't what I need right now. Eli has Autism. We took him for testing and we were told he had too many "red flags" and would need further evaluation to see where he lands on the spectrum...or how severe the autism.
I was in a daze the rest of the day. It was hard to "feel" anything. I had suspected but there is something about a professional telling you this is what your son has in store for his future that can make you just...numb. I know God was there. I know He knew this long ago. I woke up the next morning feeling like I had a hangover. I was in shock and I couldn't seem to focus my mind in anything else. I just...I just don't want this for Eli or for our family. No one does, I understand that but the burden is so great. It makes life and parenting a little harder. It requires more patience and sacrifice...more, more, more. Do I have enough? I already feel like I have to borrow patience from my love...these don't come naturally to me, how will I ever have it when Eli needs it most? I know we will be okay, I know it! I wonder if this should have been given to a child with a sweeter mother...someone more mellow who doesn't get frustrated SO easily.
It is so hard to rejoice in this time. Eli is my blessing. I remember the first time I heard Eli after he was born, the first time I saw his face, and the first time I held him in my arms. Some days I feel like he never left the space in my arms that he occupied that early December morning. When he will let me hold him I often shift him to that same place. My baby boy...my first child...the first child my body sustained and nourished. We were forever connected physically...he was and is mine. I never wanted to let him go. I did give Eli back to God. I knew there would be things in his life that I would just not be able to handle or control. I thought those things would come in his teens but I guess I was wrong. I don't know why this happened. I don't know why God did not protect Eli from this as he developed in my womb. I am devastated. I don't like that I cannot take this away. I am weep at thinking Eli will struggle and may even suffer at the hands of people who don't understand him or his condition. I want to fight but the foe is invisible. No one can tough it or see it on an x-ray. It can't be operated on or removed. This is how it will be. I am so blessed though that this is not cancer...it isn't terminal. Eli will probably outlive me. This is no death sentence. I know all these things. We will make adjustments and help Eli in all the ways we possibly can. I guess now, I feel overwhelmed and unsure.
You can pray for me as I continue the severely stressful process of getting Eli put on Medicaid. The testing is extremely expensive. I began the process back in December and am STILL getting the runaround. It is all about to turn my hair gray!! I am a worrier and I HATE having to worry about something so superficial as money when I want to be focusing on how to help Eli.
I was in a daze the rest of the day. It was hard to "feel" anything. I had suspected but there is something about a professional telling you this is what your son has in store for his future that can make you just...numb. I know God was there. I know He knew this long ago. I woke up the next morning feeling like I had a hangover. I was in shock and I couldn't seem to focus my mind in anything else. I just...I just don't want this for Eli or for our family. No one does, I understand that but the burden is so great. It makes life and parenting a little harder. It requires more patience and sacrifice...more, more, more. Do I have enough? I already feel like I have to borrow patience from my love...these don't come naturally to me, how will I ever have it when Eli needs it most? I know we will be okay, I know it! I wonder if this should have been given to a child with a sweeter mother...someone more mellow who doesn't get frustrated SO easily.
It is so hard to rejoice in this time. Eli is my blessing. I remember the first time I heard Eli after he was born, the first time I saw his face, and the first time I held him in my arms. Some days I feel like he never left the space in my arms that he occupied that early December morning. When he will let me hold him I often shift him to that same place. My baby boy...my first child...the first child my body sustained and nourished. We were forever connected physically...he was and is mine. I never wanted to let him go. I did give Eli back to God. I knew there would be things in his life that I would just not be able to handle or control. I thought those things would come in his teens but I guess I was wrong. I don't know why this happened. I don't know why God did not protect Eli from this as he developed in my womb. I am devastated. I don't like that I cannot take this away. I am weep at thinking Eli will struggle and may even suffer at the hands of people who don't understand him or his condition. I want to fight but the foe is invisible. No one can tough it or see it on an x-ray. It can't be operated on or removed. This is how it will be. I am so blessed though that this is not cancer...it isn't terminal. Eli will probably outlive me. This is no death sentence. I know all these things. We will make adjustments and help Eli in all the ways we possibly can. I guess now, I feel overwhelmed and unsure.
You can pray for me as I continue the severely stressful process of getting Eli put on Medicaid. The testing is extremely expensive. I began the process back in December and am STILL getting the runaround. It is all about to turn my hair gray!! I am a worrier and I HATE having to worry about something so superficial as money when I want to be focusing on how to help Eli.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Today, mother, I HATE you!!
Today...well lets just say that I have not been this ashamed of myself for a long while! I was never taught how to handle stress, everyday life, in a good way. In other words, I was taught to take it out on other people. In the middle of days like today, I usually take the easier way out...to go back to what I know and not fight past it and be better than my mother. I go back to selfishness and believe the lie that it is all about me. I give in to thinking it is all being done TO me when it is really just life. Granted it is life happening ALL at once but still, nothing that is permanent. I rage all day, yell and scream...over-react...rant and rave and then end the day feeling like a huge ugly monster!! I sit here, thinking about my sleeping children down the hall and I just feel so very far away. I can't possibly be good for them. My body does not seem to be able to contain patience and calmness. I am quick to over react and become angry, something that is sure to pass to them. I can't seem to find a way to calm down or release my frustration in a way safe for all that come in contact with me. It isn't all about me. Thankfully they are still young enough not to remember mommy's temper tantrum from 5 min ago...but that will end too soon. I need to find a better way! Frustrations will come, but how can i seperate that from the way I behave?
Tomorrow we head to the Marcus Autism Center. With all the things going on these past few weeks, I really haven't had time to think about it. Knowing that this is just an introduction and an evaluation there is really no use in worrying about it. This is just the beginning. But that wounded heart of mine likes to pop up when I have a good handle on somthing I would usually freak out about. All the "what if's" like to echo in my mind. What if this is the calm before the storm? What if we get "bad news" tomorrow...we can never unhear that bad news! What if this is the last night before the rest of our lives are linked with Autism? What if this is REALLY what is in store for Eli? What if I am not a strong enough mother to help him through this? What if I fail him? Again, it is only a beginning. No diagnostic facility would give such a diagnosis after one session. But, what if...
Right now, I can tell you that I don't want this! I don't want to fight so hard just to feel human...to feel good enough. I don't want to be the one who was so abused. I don't want to have to learn to calm down and not over react. I want that to have been taught to me 30 years ago...the easy way. Today, mother, I hate you!! If you were to stand in front of me you wouldn't be on your feet very long. I hate you for what you have done to me. I hate you because I have to fix this now. I hate you, I hate you!! I am glad you are alone and suffering. I suffer what you did to me almost everyday. As hard as I try I KNOW it still touches my children...when things overwhelm me and I act almost like you. I hate you and I want to punch you HARD!!! I want to knock your teeth out and then mock you like you did to me. I want to make you feel ugly so the you are the one who walks through the rest of your life wishing you could hide unable to see yourself how God sees you. Thank Him that I am not the one who decides how you should pay for what you have done because I HATE you! If you were here I would scar your body so that you were never able to forget the pain! Tomorrow, I have to wake up and I have to be the one responsible for what you did. It is mine now and I HATE you! I will do it though, because in spite of what you did to me, I let love in. I am in love with the three people who sleep under my roof. Although I fail, and I fail miserably, I do fight. I remember to step outside myself and remember to look at reality. Reality is things break down...kids pee and poop and not always in the right place...things spill and things get dirty over and over...I am not always going to get enoug sleep and not everyday am I promised 5 minutes to myself. Bad days come and bad days go. Will I wake up tomorrow and assume it will be as bad as this one, nah!! It really couldn't be too much worse, well it could, but then it might be good. But I still hate my mother and I TOTALLY want to kick her HARD right this minute!!
Tomorrow we head to the Marcus Autism Center. With all the things going on these past few weeks, I really haven't had time to think about it. Knowing that this is just an introduction and an evaluation there is really no use in worrying about it. This is just the beginning. But that wounded heart of mine likes to pop up when I have a good handle on somthing I would usually freak out about. All the "what if's" like to echo in my mind. What if this is the calm before the storm? What if we get "bad news" tomorrow...we can never unhear that bad news! What if this is the last night before the rest of our lives are linked with Autism? What if this is REALLY what is in store for Eli? What if I am not a strong enough mother to help him through this? What if I fail him? Again, it is only a beginning. No diagnostic facility would give such a diagnosis after one session. But, what if...
Right now, I can tell you that I don't want this! I don't want to fight so hard just to feel human...to feel good enough. I don't want to be the one who was so abused. I don't want to have to learn to calm down and not over react. I want that to have been taught to me 30 years ago...the easy way. Today, mother, I hate you!! If you were to stand in front of me you wouldn't be on your feet very long. I hate you for what you have done to me. I hate you because I have to fix this now. I hate you, I hate you!! I am glad you are alone and suffering. I suffer what you did to me almost everyday. As hard as I try I KNOW it still touches my children...when things overwhelm me and I act almost like you. I hate you and I want to punch you HARD!!! I want to knock your teeth out and then mock you like you did to me. I want to make you feel ugly so the you are the one who walks through the rest of your life wishing you could hide unable to see yourself how God sees you. Thank Him that I am not the one who decides how you should pay for what you have done because I HATE you! If you were here I would scar your body so that you were never able to forget the pain! Tomorrow, I have to wake up and I have to be the one responsible for what you did. It is mine now and I HATE you! I will do it though, because in spite of what you did to me, I let love in. I am in love with the three people who sleep under my roof. Although I fail, and I fail miserably, I do fight. I remember to step outside myself and remember to look at reality. Reality is things break down...kids pee and poop and not always in the right place...things spill and things get dirty over and over...I am not always going to get enoug sleep and not everyday am I promised 5 minutes to myself. Bad days come and bad days go. Will I wake up tomorrow and assume it will be as bad as this one, nah!! It really couldn't be too much worse, well it could, but then it might be good. But I still hate my mother and I TOTALLY want to kick her HARD right this minute!!
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Blessings
Wow, it has been a while! I feel like these last few months my mind, my body, and my soul have been rotating around Eli. Since December (when his pediatrician used the "A" word) I feel like I am racing against an evil clock. I know enough to know if Eli does have something as debilitating as Autism there is only so much time before the affects are irreversible. I can say I don't feel alone in all this. Eli seems to be surrounded by people who love him and want to help him in every way. So many have come to me and asked how we are doing. I wish it was socially acceptable to say that this isn't as hard for us as it should be. An Autism diagnosis would only do Eli good. It would open a whole new world of therapies and specific interventions that Eli would benefit from. Yes, it would follow him all his life...but he will never know anything different. If given the choice, I would tell autism to hit the road...I would tell all these things that haunt my son's abilities to evaporate. But I can't do that. I was not given the choice. I could be mad. I DO wonder "why". Why my son...why Eli? But we are so far past the "whys" it would be useless to allow ourselves to be stuck there. It IS the reality...Autism may be the reality.
You know, as I brave this...as we look for the best for our son all I can think is that this isn't permanent. It is permanent in this life. BUT, Autism has already been defeated. When my son loses his life on this earth his mind will be erased of all that holds him back. In Heaven, Eli will be like everyone else. He will measure up. It will all be gone. We will give him our all while we are here and Eli will find his voice...but in Heaven, it will just be gone. All the struggles of this life will be no more. We have missed out on being able to tell Eli about God. We pray at mealtime, but (to our knowledge) Eli doesn't know who God is or why we pray. I do believe God and Eli have a special relationship though. I can't help but be in awe when I think before the stars were hung in the sky, God knew my son. God thought of Eli Graham Warden. God knew the things he would be given to overcome. Eli has taken what has been given to him and just crushed it!!! God wove my son...piece by piece. It was always intended that Eli would struggle. Who am I to demand anything other that what is already in place?
I heard a new song I have been wanting to share with you all:
Blessings by Laura Story
We pray for blessings
We pray for peace
Comfort for family, protection while we sleep
We pray for healing, for prosperity
We pray for Your mighty hand to ease our suffering
All the while, You hear each spoken need
Yet love us way too much to give us lesser things
‘Cause what if your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears
What if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You’re near
What if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise
We pray for wisdom
Your voice to hear
And we cry in anger when we cannot feel You near
We doubt Your goodness, we doubt Your love
As if every promise from Your Word is not enough
All the while, You hear each desperate plea
And long that we'd have faith to believe
‘Cause what if your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears
What if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You’re near
And what if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise
When friends betray us
When darkness seems to win
We know the pain reminds this heart
That this is not, this is not our home,
It's not our home
‘Cause what if your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears
And what if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You’re near
What if my greatest disappointments
Or the aching of this life
Is the revealing of a greater thirst this world can’t satisfy
And what if trials of this life
The rain, the storms, the hardest nights
Are your mercies in disguise
What if our struggles in this life are really blessings? CRAZY, right? Think of it though. Those of us on a journey to heal from abuse of any kind...how on earth would we EVER learn the things that journey teaches us OTHER than to have been abused and fight for healing?? I have yelled at God...blamed Him...ran a billion miles in the other direction and DARED Him to come after me...done things just to spite HIM. And yet, here I am. It doesn't always have to be that way but for me it did. God was always there when I turned my back...waiting in patience and love. No one had ever waited for ME. No one had ever given me time. No one had ever considered ME. I made God wait but He was already there. He just knew. He knew each wrong turn would be a lesson...a bit of the truth that makes up the God He was always supposed to be for me. When those around me were fed up with "how long it took" it didn't matter because it was ALL FOR ME!!! And now I think, it was all for my kids. It is insane to think I would have ever been able to face all that has happened with Eli had I not had some healing in my own life...NO WAY!! There is no time now for denial...there is no time to cry over it and demand God change it. Eli needs me now!! It was all for Eli and Madeline! I would never be the mother I am had I not been broken and then healed...NEVER! I am so far from perfect but I give it my best. Hopefully that will be good enough. All the bad in my life has lead me to God in one way or another. Not everything had been vindicated or explained but God has filled me so there is no gaping wounds any longer. It still hurts...boy, does it hurt at times. But it is what it is. I live this life...full of holes and kind of dark at times...and then I can rest in the Son-shine for eternity. I hope there is a beach in Heaven!!
Friday, February 4, 2011
Leave...
Recently I have been feeling discouraged and weighed down. This August will be 12 years since I left my mother's house. Twelve years I have been an adult on my own...and yet she is still with me. Slowly, so slowly, I have been able to chop her up and toss the pieces away (in a figurative sense...I promise hehehehehehehe;-)) I rarely hear her voice and my body is safe from her ever touching me again. So why am I the way I am? Why do I struggle? Why do I feel fear deep in my bones and not even know why? A few times this week I have noticed "habits" that I have that I don't even think about as I am doing them. One night I woke to Eli opening his bedroom door to go to the bathroom. It had startled me from a deep sleep. As I lay in bed waiting to hear him finish and return to his bed I felt a small pain in my hand. It was clenched in a tight fist. I fell back asleep. The next morning I couldn't get that fist out of my mind. I have often woken up and seen that both of my hands are in fists as long as I am lying on my back. I have tried to lay my hands flat as I fall asleep but it is impossible. I feel exposed in that position. Of course I know why I do this. Nighttime was a particularly fearful time in my childhood. I think of the way animals will instinctively positionn themselves when they sleep so that they are safe or prepared in case a predator comes along. I was no different. Often I would wedge my body between the mattress and the wall to fall asleep. Bunk beds were an extra protection. I know I fell asleep under my bed a few times. When I was sure it was safe I would climb back into bed. I still feel exposed at night. I am afraid of being caught off guard....a surprise attack where I will be unable to defend myself. I am not sure I have ever been able to fall asleep without doing some protective ritual. It might be making sure my back is to the door...hitting me in the back wouldn't hurt as much as my front and I could collect myself before being struck again. I do this without thinking as if I were an animal and the simple truth was that my enemies would seek to devour me in the darkness.
A second habit I noticed just this afternoon. My sweet Madeline is so much different than my Eli. Eli's tantrums were rare even after he hit two. Either that or I have permanently blocked it from my memory. Madeline is so much more defiant. She will clench her teeth and growl at me until she turns red. Other times she will just scream. She has been known to try and wedge herself between me and whatever surface I am working on. It literally feels like she is taking a fork and scraping it across my nerves. I try to ignore but she is a persistent little girl. At the first sound of her screaming it is as if someone turns the burner on under the pot that is my anger. The longer she screams the hotter I get, even trying to ignore her, and then it boils over and mommy screams. This sequence of events was particularly bothering me today. I have noticed another feeling in the midst of that...it is a jolt of fear. I HAVE to keep her quiet! I was bringing in the groceries today. Madeline had wanted to go and visit with the neighbor's dog. I was trying to figure out what I could distract her with because I didn't want her playing with the dog because it was raining. I then reminded myself she doesn't NEED to see that dog and if I say No than I say NO! She cried, of course, and I asked myself why it was so so so hard for me to hear her cry without feeling I had to stop it. The answer flooded to my mind. I had to keep my brother's and sister's quiet whenever I was home. She didn't want to "hear" us. "If you all don't shut up I am going to come back there!" We knew what that meant. I can remember being hit on the side of my head when one of the babies was crying. As my mother left the room I was cradling a crying baby crying myself. So from the time they were babies I would jump at the sound of them crying. I reached for a toy or anything in desperation. I was afraid it would make her come to where we were. The only time I felt relief was when they stopped crying. It wasn't just crying that made her mad. I can remember playing in a bedroom with my brother and sisters. I can remember running and I must have been laughing or yelling something in play and my mother burst through the door with a strip of duct tape and put it over my mouth. I cried silently at the shame. What is worse is the memory of being home to visit while I was in college and someone had just gotten in trouble. My mother was pissed and told us all to shut up because she was going to go take a nap. The kids were being kids but I took the role of keeping them quiet. I got out the duct tape. In my love for them, not wanting to hurt their souls, I made a game of it. I drew funny mouths on the tape and we all took pictures together. They never knew I was acting in deepest fear. When my daughter cries I get a jolt of fear. I will often search the room for what she might need or what could distract her from her tantrum. Until today this was a subconscious reaction. I know babies and toddlers cry...but there were just another set of rules for me. I didn't know about them but my kids were just not allowed to cry. If they did and I wasn't enough to make them stop then that was proof I wasn't good enough. I feel exposed when I can't "control" my children...everyone will know I am not good enough. Thank you God for showing this to me. Thank you for giving me this chance to seek how to correct this in me so that I don't have to connect my children's behavior with my own worth. Thank you for showing me if I control them in this way...I become my mother and would devour the souls you gave them.
It is really gonna suck having to separate this one from my "self".
I found a new song for living inside a tutu. I had actually been able to forget just how much I had wanted to "leave" my mothers house when it was impossible to do so. I was seconds from cutting into my wrists a few times...I swallowed more pills at a time than I should have just to be able to "leave". Whatever "childhood" I had was spent dreaming of being 25-30 and living in my own house...I just wanted to leave. A full moon always reminds me of sitting in my bedroom window watch the cars drive by on the highway...wishing DESPERATELY that I would open my eyes and be sitting in one of the cars headed somewhere else. I would sit at the Post Office down the block after being dropped off by the school bus as long as I could without getting into trouble for being late. I needed to soak up every millisecond of "peace" before I walked through that door. Each step closer to the house was a reminder to put my guard up...protect my body and my mind...don't listen to what she says...walk in fast and get up stairs to "prepare" for whatEVER will come. Michael W. Smith sings this amazing song. I wonder if he found my missing diary before this song was written? I cried out to God like He were my only lifeline at times. I had NO concept of Him but I was so desperate to "believe". I wonder, can God be a safe place and give peace to those who don't or can't "know" Him? If God hadn't filled some of the darkness in my life as a child I would be dead. As I got older I had to take a more active role in my relationship with God. I had to study and seek...but as a child God comforted me even when I didn't know to give Him the credit. I can say it felt like God was farther away as soon as I walked on my college campus...a Christian campus at that. But I can see now why it felt like He had left. God wanted me to seek with all my heart...I needed to begin a journey that would reveal God as a reality instead of a "feeling". I believe God's soft spot for children is proof that I was never alone even when I felt so lonely.
LEAVE
Daddy's on the sofa, turning up another bottle to unleash when I get home
I pretend he doesn't hit me
Momma just pretends that she don't know.
I used to think of talking
Talking to my preacher
He says I should just forgive and forget.
Now my baby brother just sits and recollects the same regrets.
And I just wanna leave
Oh, God, please help me now, I wanna leave.
As if that's not enough
We're the new family around here
Guess that's all the reason some kids need
'Cause they all call me names, and say I should just take it on the chin.
If I'm overreacting, then why is it so cold here
Why is it so cold here, in this hell
Why would my friend Suzy
Tell me I should just go kill myself?
And I just wanna leave
Oh, God, please help me now, I wanna leave
And I, I just wanna leave
Oh, God, please help me now, I wanna leave
Oh, I wanna get out of here
Oh, God, help me now, I really wanna leave,
(oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, ohh)
And I, just wanna leave
Oh, God, please help me now, I wanna leave
Oh, but I, I just wanna believe
Oh, God, please hear me now, I wanna believe
I just need to know, that You're really out there
Tell me if You're really out there, 'cause I believe.
A second habit I noticed just this afternoon. My sweet Madeline is so much different than my Eli. Eli's tantrums were rare even after he hit two. Either that or I have permanently blocked it from my memory. Madeline is so much more defiant. She will clench her teeth and growl at me until she turns red. Other times she will just scream. She has been known to try and wedge herself between me and whatever surface I am working on. It literally feels like she is taking a fork and scraping it across my nerves. I try to ignore but she is a persistent little girl. At the first sound of her screaming it is as if someone turns the burner on under the pot that is my anger. The longer she screams the hotter I get, even trying to ignore her, and then it boils over and mommy screams. This sequence of events was particularly bothering me today. I have noticed another feeling in the midst of that...it is a jolt of fear. I HAVE to keep her quiet! I was bringing in the groceries today. Madeline had wanted to go and visit with the neighbor's dog. I was trying to figure out what I could distract her with because I didn't want her playing with the dog because it was raining. I then reminded myself she doesn't NEED to see that dog and if I say No than I say NO! She cried, of course, and I asked myself why it was so so so hard for me to hear her cry without feeling I had to stop it. The answer flooded to my mind. I had to keep my brother's and sister's quiet whenever I was home. She didn't want to "hear" us. "If you all don't shut up I am going to come back there!" We knew what that meant. I can remember being hit on the side of my head when one of the babies was crying. As my mother left the room I was cradling a crying baby crying myself. So from the time they were babies I would jump at the sound of them crying. I reached for a toy or anything in desperation. I was afraid it would make her come to where we were. The only time I felt relief was when they stopped crying. It wasn't just crying that made her mad. I can remember playing in a bedroom with my brother and sisters. I can remember running and I must have been laughing or yelling something in play and my mother burst through the door with a strip of duct tape and put it over my mouth. I cried silently at the shame. What is worse is the memory of being home to visit while I was in college and someone had just gotten in trouble. My mother was pissed and told us all to shut up because she was going to go take a nap. The kids were being kids but I took the role of keeping them quiet. I got out the duct tape. In my love for them, not wanting to hurt their souls, I made a game of it. I drew funny mouths on the tape and we all took pictures together. They never knew I was acting in deepest fear. When my daughter cries I get a jolt of fear. I will often search the room for what she might need or what could distract her from her tantrum. Until today this was a subconscious reaction. I know babies and toddlers cry...but there were just another set of rules for me. I didn't know about them but my kids were just not allowed to cry. If they did and I wasn't enough to make them stop then that was proof I wasn't good enough. I feel exposed when I can't "control" my children...everyone will know I am not good enough. Thank you God for showing this to me. Thank you for giving me this chance to seek how to correct this in me so that I don't have to connect my children's behavior with my own worth. Thank you for showing me if I control them in this way...I become my mother and would devour the souls you gave them.
It is really gonna suck having to separate this one from my "self".
I found a new song for living inside a tutu. I had actually been able to forget just how much I had wanted to "leave" my mothers house when it was impossible to do so. I was seconds from cutting into my wrists a few times...I swallowed more pills at a time than I should have just to be able to "leave". Whatever "childhood" I had was spent dreaming of being 25-30 and living in my own house...I just wanted to leave. A full moon always reminds me of sitting in my bedroom window watch the cars drive by on the highway...wishing DESPERATELY that I would open my eyes and be sitting in one of the cars headed somewhere else. I would sit at the Post Office down the block after being dropped off by the school bus as long as I could without getting into trouble for being late. I needed to soak up every millisecond of "peace" before I walked through that door. Each step closer to the house was a reminder to put my guard up...protect my body and my mind...don't listen to what she says...walk in fast and get up stairs to "prepare" for whatEVER will come. Michael W. Smith sings this amazing song. I wonder if he found my missing diary before this song was written? I cried out to God like He were my only lifeline at times. I had NO concept of Him but I was so desperate to "believe". I wonder, can God be a safe place and give peace to those who don't or can't "know" Him? If God hadn't filled some of the darkness in my life as a child I would be dead. As I got older I had to take a more active role in my relationship with God. I had to study and seek...but as a child God comforted me even when I didn't know to give Him the credit. I can say it felt like God was farther away as soon as I walked on my college campus...a Christian campus at that. But I can see now why it felt like He had left. God wanted me to seek with all my heart...I needed to begin a journey that would reveal God as a reality instead of a "feeling". I believe God's soft spot for children is proof that I was never alone even when I felt so lonely.
LEAVE
Daddy's on the sofa, turning up another bottle to unleash when I get home
I pretend he doesn't hit me
Momma just pretends that she don't know.
I used to think of talking
Talking to my preacher
He says I should just forgive and forget.
Now my baby brother just sits and recollects the same regrets.
And I just wanna leave
Oh, God, please help me now, I wanna leave.
As if that's not enough
We're the new family around here
Guess that's all the reason some kids need
'Cause they all call me names, and say I should just take it on the chin.
If I'm overreacting, then why is it so cold here
Why is it so cold here, in this hell
Why would my friend Suzy
Tell me I should just go kill myself?
And I just wanna leave
Oh, God, please help me now, I wanna leave
And I, I just wanna leave
Oh, God, please help me now, I wanna leave
Oh, I wanna get out of here
Oh, God, help me now, I really wanna leave,
(oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, ohh)
And I, just wanna leave
Oh, God, please help me now, I wanna leave
Oh, but I, I just wanna believe
Oh, God, please hear me now, I wanna believe
I just need to know, that You're really out there
Tell me if You're really out there, 'cause I believe.
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