Hang On

I look into your eyes and see the pain.  In the dim light, your eyes flicker, giving me a glimpse of the hollowness deep inside.  The hurt is almost unbearable, so I look away.  I look back and weep at what I see.  Anger.  Toward God.  Toward me.  Shame.  Hurt.  Hopelessness.  Fear. Despair.  Emptiness.  I feel it to my core.  It is not yours to bear alone.  I bear it too.  Our Savior bore it two thousand years ago.  This is why He came.  And yet, despite His carrying it for us, in our place, here we are, trudging along, weighed down and crushed.

"Jesus , help me" is one of the most honorable things you can say.  The person who has something doesn't ask for help.  The spiritually destitute person has nothing, and that is what God requires of us.... In contrast to the people who build personal kingdoms that fade away in a generation or two, spiritual beggars are publicly praised.  They are citizens of heaven itself, the most honorable of cities, the ultimate right side of the tracks.  Since they have depended on the King instead of themselves, they share in what is his.  This means they have everything, and it will all last.

And so, I cry out, "Jesus, help us!"  For He is our only hope.  But you have no hope.  You have lost hope in the only hope you ever had.  Do not lose heart yet, though.  As your faith hangs tenuously in the balance, grab hold of my hand.  Let me walk with you.  When you stumble, hang on to me as you grab your bearing.  Let my faith be enough for both of us.  The Lord has called me to be your helper, and there is no better time to help than now.  So hang on to me, my love, as I look to Jesus, trusting that He will help us just as He promised.

Tears say, "I am undone."  Could we say anything else more authentically human? Tears say, "The world has reneged on its promises.  It promised satisfaction but delivered injustice, loss, and pain.  It is not the place where I can put my hope." Could we say anything else more wise?  Such a person is an "aching visionary," worthy of emulation.

Your eyes speak the truth.  The world has given you a cup full of injustice, loss, and pain, and you have drunk it down to the dregs.  There is no hope for you here. You know this.  What you may not realize is that knowing this is half the battle.  Let me point you to your hope.  I am already walking this road with you.  Follow my lead as I take another look at Jesus.  He tells us that He loves us.  He promises that He is good.  When you doubt his promises, cling to me.  Let my hope be sufficient to carry you too.

The meek do not rail against the Lord in their persecution.  They might not understand why something has happened to them--it is hard to understand how God's love and our own suffering coexist--but the meek don't demand answers. Instead, they trust God because of who he is, what he has said, and what he has done.

May the Lord restore to you the joy of your salvation.  May you taste and see that the Lord is good.  May you again see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.  But for now, hang on to me as I trust God because of who He is, what He has said, and what He has done.

He came for you.  He bore you burdens.  Come with me as we walk to Him to find rest for our weary souls.

* quotes from Shame Interrupted by Edward T. Welch

Eye Exam

Last week I brought Wesley in for his bi-annual eye exam.  While the results were not what I had hoped, the actual appointment was a moment I will always treasure in my heart.

As usual, Wesley was less than thrilled to be visiting a doctor.  He squirmed and complained loudly as we sat in the chair while the assistant examined his eyes.  He had no interest whatsoever in following the panda bear from side to side or up and down.  But then I thought to mention that he knows his letters.

The assistant seemed surprised, but she quickly pulled out the letter cards to go over them with him before putting them up on the screen.  At first Wesley protested the covering of his left eye.  Then once he realized we were naming letters, he quickly got on board, cheering for himself with each correct answer.

T. O. V. H.  We named these letters in random orders and decreasing sizes with pauses to cheer and clap.  As Wesley consistently named his letters correctly and continued to participate in the activity, my heart welled with pride.  My son was doing something I had never imagined would be possible at three years of age.  It was all I could do to quietly sit there instead of jumping up and down with joy and ecstatic praise.

When we switched to cover his right eye, I immediately knew something was wrong.  Wesley was no longer able to correctly identify letters, often naming letters that looked nothing like the letters shown.  Then once the letters were enlarged, he began to name them correctly again.  While I was disappointed to discover that his nearsightedness and astigmatism have again increased, it was so exciting to have Wesley show this to us rather than waiting to discover it once his eyes were dilated.

As we left, the assistant smiled at us, telling me that Wesley's naming of his letters would certainly be the highlight of her day.  Later, when we met with the doctor, he spoke similarly, expressing how impressed he was with how well Wesley is doing and even how much better he sat still and participated this time despite his obvious displeasure with the situation.

Wesley, we are so proud of you!

On another note, Wesley's verbal skills are suddenly exploding.  Just in the past week he put together more two (and five) word phrases than he's put together in his life.  When we took down the tree, Wesley kept waving at the tree and saying "bye tree".  One afternoon when he wanted to play with his gears, he kept saying "spin gear".  And best of all, as we walked into a restaurant a few days ago, I asked Zach if he wanted juice to drink.  Wesley overheard our conversation and said, "Juice!  I want juice!  Yeah!"

Then today, Wesley asked his first question.  I had decided to give him play time in his room rather than a nap today.  After changing his diaper, I pulled out some toys and said, "It's time to play.  Have fun!"  He looked at me, cocked his head to the side, gave me a half smile, and said "play?".  When I said yes, he laughed and exclaimed "play!"

Sometimes it is hard to see any progress.  The day to day grind of working with Wesley can begin to feel like a burden.  But then God, in his kindness, blesses me with weeks like this where I have the opportunity to see that God truly is at work in Wesley's life.  Wesley is growing by leaps and bounds.  Sometimes those leaps are small, but they are there.  And they are beautiful.

The Sting of Grief

I always knew this day would come.  But yet, as I faced this situation for the first time, I was not prepared.

It was never supposed to be this way.

I blinked back tears as I read the invitation to a birthday party for big boys, quickly realizing that only one of my big boys was invited.

In that moment, the dagger of disability again pierced my heart.

If not for his disability, my son and this boy would be friends. They would run around together, playing and fighting and talking and getting into trouble as big boys do.  It was my son's disability, not his age, that disqualified him from being a big boy.

No one meant to be hurtful.  It is true; Wesley is not friends with this boy.  He probably has never even noticed him.  And he certainly had no idea that he was missing out on a birthday party.  In fact, if he had gone, he would have played by himself rather than joining in on the big boy fun.

But I knew.  And my heart was crushed at the unexpected and painful reminder that this is not how it was supposed to be.

As we entered the Christmas season, I often thought, "this is why Jesus came".  He came to offer us a hope beyond the suffering we experience in this world.  "He was despised and rejected by men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief.  As one from whom men hide their faces, he was despised, and we esteemed him not."  Isaiah 53:3

Jesus knows what it is to be rejected.  He experienced this sorrow firsthand when even His closest of friends walked away from Him in his darkest moments, as He was overwhelmed to the point of death.  While this does not take away the sting of my own grief, knowing that Jesus understands my bleeding heart brings comfort to my soul.  And because He understands, He is a safe person for me to draw near to when life is hard.

"Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; yet we esteemed him stricken, smitten by God and afflicted. But he was was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed."  Isaiah 53:4-5

Nap Time Blessings

This fall, nap time took a turn for the worse, stretching my patience thin and changing our family routine.  About two months ago, Wesley discovered that he doesn't actually have to stay in bed.  With his newfound freedom, if I leave him in his room before he falls asleep, he quickly slips out of bed to play.  This exacerbates the already existing problem that Wesley has always had a difficult time unwinding and falling asleep.  It routinely takes him at least an hour to settle down and close his eyes.

So now, instead of playing games and chatting with Zach while his brothers nap, I get Zach settled with his legos and books before going in to lay down on Wesley's floor.  I set my voice to repeat, hearing the same words come out of my mouth every few minutes. "Wesley, head on pillow.  Wesley, be quiet."  Some days he falls asleep rather quickly, and I tiptoe back out of his room after only twenty or thirty minutes.  On those days, I consider myself lucky.  Most days, though, I lie in there with him at least an hour.

As I lie there, I often find anger stirring in my heart.  Why won't he just be quiet?  Why do I have to continue to tell him to lie down?  Doesn't he understand?  Where is the disconnect that causes him to forget my command over and over again?  Why is this so hard for him?

The other day, though, God opened my eyes to see a more beautiful picture. As I lay there on the floor, the Lord quieted my heart and I just listened to my son.  This is what I heard:  "I want play!  I want out!  I want all done!  Mommy!"  He then proceeded to begin counting his fingers, going from one to five and cheering Yay! for himself upon completion each time.  He missed three and four sometimes, but he carefully put up his fingers one at a time and counted them over and over again.

In that moment, my heart quickly changed from frustration to joy.  Look at what the Lord has done!  My boy is speaking so well...better than I would have thought possible at this point in his life.  This is the Lord's work in him, and it is beautiful.

When I lie down with him at nap time, I still instruct him to lay down and be quiet, but I also thank God for my little boy who can tell me that he'd rather play.

Where Did My Baby Go?

My Dearest and Most Precious Liam,

Where has the time gone?  From the beginning, I have done everything in my power to soak up every moment with you, breathing in your sweet baby smell, enjoying those middle of the night feedings because I knew they would soon be over, holding you in my arms for hours as you slept, and doing my best to make time to play with you even in the midst of our busy schedule. But it seems that despite my best attempts, I blinked and you grew up.

Since the day you were born, it has truly amazed me to see how perfectly you have fit into our family and completed us.  Your cheerful disposition brings joy to our days, your playful antics put a smile on the faces of your brothers, and your peaceful, calm demeanor is an example to us all.

 You loved your birthday cake and gobbled it up as fast as you could!

Daddy recently commented on how much Wesley likes you.  It is such a delight to your Daddy and I to watch the two of you pal around.  You adoringly follow him everywhere, waiting for him to share with you, and eventually he obliges.  I often chuckle when I see his spilled bowl of snacks on the floor and the two of you both shoveling snacks into your mouths as fast as you can so that the other doesn't eat too many.  When you see me, you both look up with guilty faces.  Wesley is also teaching you the ropes when it comes to stacking cups, playing with the train set, and dancing to Christmas music.

 

You are my little dare devil!  On the other hand, is there a better way to play the piano?

Your short life has been a roller coaster, and you've brought Mommy on a wild ride.  Over the past twelve months, I have both rejoiced and grieved more often than I could ever count.  It is impossible to not compare you to your older brothers, which has been both a curse and a blessing.  Seeing how easily you learn to do new things is a constant reminder to me of what a miracle life truly is.  The ease with which you maneuver through your world brings me to tears as I am amazed at how effortless life is for you.  I show you something one time and you just start doing it.  You naturally play in positions that Wesley is still unable to play in due to low tone.  I am very aware of how short the time is before you surpass your older brother in every way.

 You have so much fun with your big brothers!  (I'm pretty sure they like you too!)

On the other hand, having both Wesley and Zach as older brothers has been a blessing in more ways than one.  God has used the raising of your big brothers to show me things I would not have otherwise seen in you.  Because of the many struggles that Wesley has had with feeding, fine motor skills, motor planning, and sensory issues, I was able to see red flags in you long before others might have noticed them.  While it has broken my heart to see you evaluated for feeding therapy, occupational therapy, and speech therapy and qualify for services due to your delays, I thank God regularly for showing me these things early on so that we could intervene and help you.  I continue to pray that these things will rectify themselves so that you may lead a normal life.  But I also cling to the promise of Psalm 139, that the Lord has ordained all of your days.  And I choose to trust His perfect plan for your life.

Those ornaments are irresistible!  Maybe if I'm sneaky, Mommy won't notice when I touch them...

Several weeks ago, we started occupational therapy.  Your spectacular OT (who is also Wesley's OT),  quickly noticed your sensory issues and lack of body awareness and put you on the same brushing and joint compression routine that your big brother was on several years ago.  After only one week of this regimen, we started seeing huge changes in you.  Just two weeks before your first birthday, you suddenly stopped nursing, took your first steps, and said your first word.  Now, you walk everywhere, babble constantly, say at least four words purposefully (cracker, Zach, light, and uh-oh), and have begun to play more appropriately with toys.  You have started trying to stack cups, doing container play, and putting shapes into a shape sorter.

One of my favorite things about you is your infectious laugh.  You are a pro at going up the stairs, even though you know you're not allowed to climb up without Mommy nearby.  When I forget to close the gate, I will hear you crawling across the tile just as fast as you can to reach the bottom step and start climbing.  As soon as you see me, you give me a huge smile, giggle, and start climbing as fast as your little legs can move.  You also laugh whenever we play peek-a-boo, when you dance with your Snoopy Christmas doll, when we tickle you, and any time we do something that humors you - which is all the time.  I have started playing the "come to Mommy" game with you and Wesley, and you both are pretty sure it is the best game ever.  What joy it brings to my heart to see you both laughing as you try to come to me as fast as you possibly can, running into each other along the way.

My precious Liam, I love you so very much, and it is my joy and privilege to be your Mama.  I pray that just as you bring much joy to our hearts now, you will one day join the family of God and bring much joy to the heart of your Heavenly Father.

Happy first birthday, my son.  I love you!

Love,
Mama

He Is With Me

Do you see it?  We may not ever fully understand why God allows the suffering that devastates our lives.  We may not ever find the right answers to how we'll dig ourselves out.  There may not be any silver lining, especially not in the ways we would like.  But we don't need answers as much as we need God's presence in and through the suffering itself.  For the life of the believer, one thing is beautifully and abundantly true:  God's chief concern in your suffering is to be with you and be Himself for you.

Glorious Ruin: How Suffering Sets You Free, by Tullian Tchividjian

I don't understand why God is allowing the suffering that is devastating our family, and I may never see why God has not stepped in to stop the destruction.  There may be no answers for how to dig ourselves out, because on this earth, there may be no way out.  Fifty more years feels like an eternity with not even a silver lining promised.

But praise the Lord, I don't need answers.  What I need is God's presence in and through my suffering.  And that, I have.  Surely, Jesus has borne my griefs and carried my sorrows.  As for all of these griefs that threaten to crush me, they did crush him.  Jesus took them upon Himself. When I stop and reflect on the weight of my griefs and sorrows along with the weight of yours and everyone else's, it is staggering.  Yet, Jesus willingly carried them.  And now, in the midst of my suffering, He is with me.  He will never leave me or forsake me.  More than that, as He walks alongside me, He can be Himself for me.  For my great High Priest, who is always interceding for me, intimately knows my greatest suffering.  He knows because He carried it once and for all and because He continues to carry it when I wearily come to Him, hand Him my burdens, and in their place receive rest.

Because He has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows, we do not lose heart.
(Isaiah 53:4, 2 Corinthians 4:16)

Live For Eternity, My Son!

Dear Zach,

I have procrastinated in writing this letter to you because I have so much to say but feel that my words will be inadequate to express all that I want to share with you.  But considering that it has now been two weeks since your birthday, and your younger brother's birthday is rapidly approaching, I think it is time that I at least attempt to write your birthday letter.

In the last few months, it feels like I blinked my eyes and then re-opened them to find a more grown-up you. You have become more tender and compassionate toward me and your brothers, and in doing so, you have touched my heart.  For example, I was unaware that you even realized I have been experiencing lots of headaches and back pain lately.  But the other night, as you prayed that God would heal me of my headaches and back pain, I realized that God was opening your eyes to look past yourself and see the struggles and hurts of others. What has encouraged me the most, though, is seeing how you have continued to ask about my back and my head, rejoicing when I am feeling well and praying for me when I am not. Being aware of the sorrows of others is a good thing in and of itself.  But faithfully caring for others and praying for them is a posture of the heart that can only come from the Lord.  So, my son, I rejoice that God is doing this work in your heart.

I have also seen you encouraging your brothers more regularly and even reminding me to praise them for their successes.  What joy it brings to my heart when I see you helping Wesley count or work on other activities.  Your excitement as you set up his play environment and hand him things to do is beautiful.  And you and Liam have begun to develop a sweet friendship as well.  I smile often as I watch you playing with him and setting off waves of baby giggles.  Your brothers adore you, as well they should.  You are your brothers' protector, always keeping them out of harm's way and quick to step in and take the pain for yourself rather than allowing them to get hurt.

We gave you your own Bible last year for Christmas, and you have been reading it each morning since the day you first received it.  I pray that God will continue to give you a heart that loves His word and delights in it.  Just last week you came to me excitedly and informed me that you were hiding God's word in your heart. Then you showed me the following verse from Proverbs that you had written out:  "A harsh word stirs up anger, but a soft answer turns away wrath."  You explained to me that you were hiding this verse in your heart so that God would help you.  Oh my precious son, this is the beautiful thing about God's word!  He promises that His word does not return void.  So, as you hide His word in your heart, I am excited to see the work that He will do in and through you.

Zach, as I have prayed for you every day since the day you were born, I continue to pray for you each day that you will give your life to Christ, trusting in Jesus as your Savior.  May this be the year that you trust in His blood as payment for your sins.  For as much as I am proud of your many accomplishments in this life, this is by far my greatest desire for you.  For the things of this world are transient, but eternity is just around the corner.  Live for eternity, my son!

Love,
Mom