Wednesday, August 08, 2012

this is my life {and i ramble a lot}

like many breezy summer afternoons here, i'll take elijah out onto the stoop to play. 
you know, for the times i'm not energetic enough to attempt the park.
he'll rally up handfuls of dinosaurs and hotwheels, 
maybe a foam sword, then we'll hop out the door and breathe the fresh air. 
sometimes when we're out. i have elijah practice sitting. 
while his sitting indoors has drastically improved, 
when this kid is outside, it's a miracle if he sits for one whole minute.
usually it only lasts for a few seconds before he tries to r-u-n-n-o-f-t.

it's maddening. 
toss the runaway-ness in with the constant jumping, spontaneous shouts, 
forcefully throwing things, tearing things apart, and sleepless nights on and on and on...
and it's completely maddening.

earlier today, we had the blessing of three respite care workers coming to take elijah to the park. 
all three are autism specialists and have very targeted objectives in mind when playing with our sweet boy.
this was the first time i've sent him out with them. without me.
i thought i'd be jumping for joy. 
i thought i'd get a ton of stuff done in the precious two hours they were away.

instead, i felt nauseated and rather lost, here in the apartment alone. in the stillness. 
i've shared before that silence isn't my favorite. yet i crave it i am so weird like that.
and here i was, in the silence, able to breathe and not be hyper-alert to my surroundings.
i wanted to enjoy it. and really, i mostly did.

the truth is, sometimes i just don't want to be doing this.
and when the quiet does come, like today, i'm reminded that this is real life.
i'm tempted to be bitter that i'm not "over it" or totally embracing it.

this is my life. this is real. 
i want to embrace it. and i believe i will continue to grow in that direction.
but if i'm honest, right now i'm in the midst of really seeing my child. 
seeing his uniqueness, its beauty and frustration. 
i'm realizing that some things will change, and others will not.

the frustration isn't at all autism. my trouble is, 
i want to automatically know every thing about it.
i want to know how to reach my son, make him come alive and communicate with me. 
right now.
i'm an impatient soul, and i struggle with this slow move 
of therapy schedules and little bits of progress.
and at the same time, celebrate each little one! 
moving forward is moving forward, after all. no matter your pace.

i get angry at myself for feeling so crazy and needing any help.
i seem to be trapped in a typical mama brain, 
and parts of me are still trying to parent that way.
this only leads to more frustration. obviously.

don't we all want the easy road? or at least less difficult ones?

"if you are sure of omnipotent aid, 
what can be too heavy for you? 
begin the day joyously, and let no shade of doubt 
come between thee and the eternal sunshine."

i shared that from spurgeon on my other blog.

praise jesus my life doesn't depend on me and my attitude.
because too many days, it stinks.
praise him that this is more than i can bear and it drives me to my knees more than i've ever been.
praise him for JOY in the midst and perseverance.
because there is joy with elijah. too much to mention:
watching elijah learn new things, attempting to become more verbal(yay!)
listening to him sing his heart out to the muppet movie or mary poppins
watching him dance, and asking me to join him
hearing him pray thanks before his meals and at bedtime

when i call the lord, he hears me. and he rescues. 
he is the light that floods the darkness of my doubt.
i am encouraged and strengthened by the truth of his word, 
and his daily bearing me up.

he brought me out into a broad place; 
he rescued me, because he delighted in me.
{psalm 18:19}

this roller coaster of emotions, the stretching of my soul, the molding of my heart to his will...
it's bittersweet. and i am determined to claim the joy he has hidden away for me in all of this.

autism is blessing me.
it's weird, painful and glorious how god is using it. but i'm grateful all the same.

"God moves in a mysterious way,
His wonders to perform;

He plants his footsteps in the sea,
And rides upon the storm.

Deep in unfathomable mines
Of never failing skill,

He treasures up his bright designs,
And works his sovereign will.

Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take,
The clouds ye so much dread

Are big with mercy, and shall break
In blessings on your head.

Judge not the LORD by feeble sense,
But trust him for his grace;

For behind a frowning providence,
He hides a smiling face.

His purposes will ripen fast,
Unfolding ev'ry hour;

The bud may have a bitter taste,
But sweet will be the flow'r.

Blind unbelief is sure to err,
And scan his work in vain;

GOD is his own interpreter,
And he will make it plain."
{william cowper}


  1. Whoa ... can I relate ... though for totally different reasons and a completely different context ... but whoa ... can I relate! Good stuff!!!

  2. so much here to relate to. Bless you for your honesty.

  3. i love you. and I love to see how God is working in you. I don't know what else to say because in my limited experience with autism I feel like I'd sound really ignorant no matter what I say. thank you for a glimpse into your world, it is really a blessing. YOU are a blessing.

  4. I love your reflections, Hannah, and I love how you always come back to the Lord and to His hope. Autism IS a blessing, little Elijah IS a blessing, and YOU are a blessing! Thanks for sharing your heart once again. <3

  5. I'm not a mom (yet) and do not yet know how to love like a mother loves, but man-- what a beautiful portrayal. How sweet and gracious of the Lord to show you blessing after blessing through something the world views as a burden. What a lucky boy your sweet Elijah is.

  6. oh hannah, your days are hard. i'm so thankful you are seeking the joys and delight in Jesus in the midst of it. beauty from ashes... the hope our souls cling to! xoxo.

  7. Hannah this is beautiful. I absolutely love your honesty in struggling to parent with a child who has special needs. It reminds me to not take for granted or be ungrateful for the everyday struggles that I have with my kids. Thanks for just being who you are and doing what you do. YOU are a blessing.

  8. foster care is blessing us in that same weird very much painful and sometimes I want to pull my hair out kind of way.

    be blessed friend.


  9. Hi I just found your blog through a link up! I love how honest and true you are! Keep sharing!


  10. Beeeautiful post, from a strong and honest momma.:)

  11. "The truth is, sometimes I just don't want to be doing this." How I can totally relate to those words! Hang in their, my friend.