as i mentioned on instagram earlier this week, this is our fifth fall season in north dakota. it's the first one to be of any length, having colored leaves turned and falling in the cozy yellow sun. we're soaking it up, or have been, it's nearly over i think. this time last year we were preparing to begin ABA therapy with elijah. and three years before then, autism wasn't even on our radar.
if you were here with me now, you'd hear me laughing nervously. it's either cry or laugh. that's about all i can do when i try to calculate the weight of life that we've packed into our short existence as a family, especially within these last four years. grateful that though i grow weary in my trying to make sense of everything, the lord pulls me close and says rest. he's been ahead, beside and behind us each step we take. giving grace when we grumble and fight him along the way. he's a tender lord. knowing our weakness and shining himself extra brightly in those feeble places. he's a faithful god. never slacking his grip on us, drenching our souls with his mercy and upholding our frail, exhausted arms with his strength.
sometimes i forget that it's not about me keeping up, or doing enough or being a better mom and wife than i was yesterday. and when i remember that. when i recall the truth, that jesus holds all the minutes of all the appointments and all the things. jesus already did all that needs doing. everything. he's supreme, and covers me in his righteousness and goodness, which is better than i am on my best day. this truth is my gift. to sing hallelujah to the giver and rest in him is all i need do. that's freedom. and that's what this autumn gave to me.