Footprints in the Sand

Footprints in the Sand
One night I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Lord.
Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky.
In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand.
Sometimes there were two sets of footprints,
other times there were one set of footprints.
This bothered me because I noticed
that during the low periods of my life,
when I was suffering from
anguish, sorrow or defeat,
I could see only one set of footprints.
So I said to the Lord,
“You promised me Lord,
that if I followed you,
you would walk with me always.
But I have noticed that during
the most trying periods of my life
there have only been one
set of footprints in the sand.
Why, when I needed you most,
you have not been there for me?”
The Lord replied,
“The times when you have
seen only one set of footprints,
is when I carried you.”
Mary Stevenson
Copyright © 1984 Mary Stevenson, from original 1936 text, All rights reserved

Do Not Be Anxious About Anything

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. The peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ.

Philippians 4:6-7


Worry. Anxiety. Concerns. Problems. To all of them I say, “Ick.” Who needs them? Nevertheless, we get them, whether or not we have special needs kids.


I know we can decide to be happy or not, but always being an optimistic eludes me. Sometimes screaming just is easier. Or being totally silent.


There are a few biblical passages or famous sayings I have found that help me get through those moments when I am less than good ol’ Pollyanna. I try to focus on one for a few minutes each day, usually in the morning before the chaos begins. That translates into “before the kids get up”. I am not a morning person, so I’m only up a few minutes before the herd.


I have had several moms tell me that the above quote from Philippians hits home. It’s part of my “email signature” right now. I don’t know how many people actually read it. I do know that some have found inspiration from it, just like I did.


So for today, it is still one moment at a time, trusting Christ will see me through. Therein lies peace.

Want To Trade Your Life For A Better Model?


Ever wanted to just walk away? I admit that the last few months have been difficult, and these thoughts have crossed my mind a few times. Hence, I have not written much.

Being a mom of five boys has spirited ups and downs. Throw in special needs issues, and life is uncontrolled chaos filled with extreme joys and failures. Every minute step of success is short-lived because it is immediately followed by a new goal. That new goal promises hours of laborious attempts of repetitive actions or lessons which might be learned, even mastered. Yet, there is no guarantee. I won’t mention the failures…
I play a guessing game as to what is the next step to help my sons. At stake is the success or failure of my boys’ lives–being able to live independently and fruitfully in every aspect life has to offer: spiritually, financially, emotionally, academically, and other –ally things I can’t name right now.
No pressure.
My youngest three boys were diagnosed with autism about nine years ago. My second oldest had a speech delay which was diagnosed three years earlier. Never did I dream that my youngest four boys would have a disability. It’s been a tough road.
Along that road many people have offered words of encouragement, such as, “You’ll be fine”. “You’re strong.” “You can do it.” “God doesn’t give you more than you can handle.” Really? All of these expressions have their merit, but who in their right mind really believes that a mom who has no training in special needs can handle four special needs kids? Even if she can handle it for a while, is there a breaking point? When is “enough” enough? When is it time to take a break? When is it time to step back and say, “That is all I can do?”
I wish I had the answers. Everyone has a different threshold. Everyone has “stuff” do muddle through. I have written about many of my autistic sons’ successes. I have not written much about the younger, tougher years. I have not expressed many of the hardships to get to this point.
Every so often a mom will ask, “How do you do it?” I try to smile, and I answer, “I don’t.” The mom might smile back or think I’m crazy. I will explain that I pray a lot. The boys’ progress and my sanity are acts of faith. I am not always fine, and certainly not always strong. I have shed a tear or two. I will indulge in a “pity party”. Then I pick myself up and go.
I do have a loving husband, supportive parents, and wonderful friends. Nevertheless, they are not home with my boys 24/7. I can relay experiences, but only a parent of a special needs child could truly understand the cost, the unending sacrifice required.
Every so often the car’s gas tank needs to be filled; otherwise, the car won’t go. Humans are no different, but it is not as easy as going to the gas station. Years of dealing with special needs issues have taken their toll on me. Other issues are also pressing. Life!
I take life one moment at a time. Through prayer I cling to hope. Those are enough for now.

Pondering the Twelve Days of Christmas

It started out of 2 needs. I wanted to celebrate the real Christmas season, and I needed to not spend a lot of money.

In the early years of our marriage, I saw how the materialism was ruining Christmas. All the commercials were enticing my young boys. Toys, trucks, games, etc. “I want this, Mom.” To show how bad the commercialism impacted my sons, one said, “If you won’t buy it for me, I’ll tell my grandpa, and he’ll get it for me.” He said this with absolute assurance that his grandfather would get it. The sad part is–he was right. His grandfather loved to spoil him. There is nothing wrong with grandparents expressing their love through gift-giving. However, when a grandchild EXPECTS it, that is NOT acceptable.

The commercialism also made the Christmas season the time BEFORE Christmas, not the 12 days following. I wanted to teach my boys what the “liturgical calendar” was vs the “retail calendar”. Christmas does not END on December 25. The Christmas Season truly STARTS on Christmas Day.

The other reason that prompted our celebrating the 12 Days of Christmas was money; there was the lack of funds to purchase these tokens of love, those gifts. We were not starving, but finances were slim. Extras just didn’t exist. So how could I provide a modest yet meaningful Christmas?

My husband and I decided that the 12 Days of Christmas were a perfect answer. We could space out the gifts, one per day. We could take advantage of the sales the days after Christmas when tons of items were half price. We could easily stretch what little money we had to purchase a bit more.

The effect was wonderful. On Christmas Day the boys opened gifts from relatives. They also opened that special gift that Santa brought. The next day they could open another present which appeared that morning under the tree. The next day also produced a new round of gifts. Needless to say, the boys enjoyed opening presents daily. Each present was thoroughly enjoyed. The boys were not overwhelmed by a ton of items all at once. That is incredibly important for kids with autism. There was no let-down that usually comes from the “that’s it!” idea. Clean up was also much EASIER. Learning to put new things away was simpler as well. Each item found its home daily, rather than stashing lots of stuff in a closet.

So what did I give each day? Most of the gifts were simple: a pack of gum, a soda, movie tickets, board games or a deck of cards. Sometimes gifts were necessities, like socks or shoes. Some presents were very individualized, like music. Others were family oriented. As the boys have grown, we have moved toward the family experiences: dinner out, a day at the beach, bowling, miniature golf, and Disneyland.

The focus of Christmas is so easily lost in our trying to show our love via an item. Scrambling to the stores and malls has turned into a zoo. People get hurt or trampled on Black Friday. The birth of Our Lord is diminished through such chaos. We have tried to show our boys that gift giving should reflect the love of Our Father through the birth of His Son. Christ was born in a humble manger. He didn’t require silk and satin. Likewise, our tokens of love don’t have to be diamonds and emeralds. The gift of self is the best. It does not cost anything, yet it is priceless!
photo credit:brockvicky

A Late Tribute to Veterans



THE FINAL INSPECTION – AUTHOR UNKNOWN

The Soldier stood and faced God,
Which must always come to pass.
He hoped his shoes were shining,
Just as brightly as his brass..

Step forward now, Soldier,
How shall I deal with you?
Have you always turned the other cheek?
To My Church have you been true?’
The soldier squared his shoulders and said,
No, Lord, I guess I ain’t.
Because those of us who carry guns,
Can’t always be a saint.

I’ve had to work most Sundays,
And at times my talk was tough.
And sometimes I’ve been violent,
Because the world is awfully rough.

But, I never took a penny,
That wasn’t mine to keep…
Though I worked a lot of overtime,
When the bills got just too steep.

And I never passed a cry for help,
Though at times I shook with fear..
And sometimes, God, forgive me,
I’ve wept unmanly tears.

I know I don’t deserve a place,
Among the people here.
They never wanted me around,
Except to calm their fears

If you’ve a place for me here, Lord,
It needn’t be so grand.
I never expected or had too much,
But if you don’t, I’ll understand.

There was a silence all around the throne,
Where the saints had often trod.
As the Soldier waited quietly,
For the judgment of his God.

Step forward now, you Soldier,
You’ve borne your burdens well.
Walk peacefully on Heaven’s streets,
You’ve done your time in Hell.’

Author Unknown~

If you care to offer the smallest token of recognition and appreciation for the Military,
Please pass this on and pray for our men and women
Who have served and are currently serving our country
And pray for those who have given the ultimate sacrifice for freedom….

 WE LIVE IN THE LAND OF THE FREE, ONLY BECAUSE OF THE BRAVE!
God Bless Our Military

The above post is from:


Ryan and a Girl Part II

“Grandma, guess which grandson asked a girl out?” I asked my mom over the phone. I could hear her think a moment. She replied, “Cody.” I answered, “Nope.”

Pause. “Zach?” She tried again. I answered, “Nope.”
Silence. S i l e n c e.
“Ryan?????” Her tone slid up slowly as she really questioned her own answer. “Yep,” I said. “Ryan!”
My mom couldn’t believe her ears. “Really??” Obvious disbelief. I relayed the entire story to her. “Wow!” was all she could say. “Wow!”
Now to get to Kim’s answer. On Tuesday morning, she told Ryan that she’d have to think about it. When Ryan told me that Tuesday evening, I simply said that was fine. Wednesday evening Ryan called her to ask again. She still had to think about it. I again responded, “That’s o. k.” Finally, on Friday morning Kim said that she could not go. Ryan called me to let me know. What else could I say, but “I’m still glad you tried.”
It really frustrated me that Kim could not give Ryan an answer, be it yes or no. However, I did not know her circumstances, so I could not get angry. I only knew that my teenage son with autism could say the words AND get the courage to ask her–simultaneously.
Ryan was my son who did not talk until he was five. I remember doctors telling me, when he was diagnosed with autism, to accept it, deal with it, but there was/is no cure for autism. Without saying it, this was their message: No hope. I would love to have them see Ryan now and dare to tell me those same words. There is always hope!

Ryan And A Girl?!

“I have to talk with you.” That is never a good sign, is it? Well, today is it!

My husband, Mike, tells me we have to talk as he waves me into an empty room. Tons of thoughts fly through my mind as to why.

Mike informs me that Ryan, our 16 year old, has been talking with a girl. My eyes perk up. Yep. We bought a calculator for him at school that he has not picked up from a certain teacher. Why not? “Well, I’m visiting too much with Kim,” was Ryan’s response. He stated it as simply a matter of fact. So is this reason enough to pull me into a room? No. There’s more. Much more.
This morning Ryan asked Kim if she was going to the Homecoming Dance on Saturday. Her response was, “No.” End of conversation between Ryan and Kim.
This afternoon, Ryan told Mike what happened. Perplexed? Mike asked Ryan, “Do you want to go to the Homecoming Dance?” Ryan replied, “I want to go, but only if I have a date.” Mike pursued, “Have you asked anyone?” Ryan simply stated, “No.” Mike inquired, “Why not ask Kim?” Ryan answered, “She said that she is not going.”
Most people would clue in why Kim is not going to the dance, but a teen with autism only sees and understands what was said, not the reasoning behind the statement. Ryan had a perfect opportunity to ask Kim, but she said that she wasn’t going. He didn’t ask why, and she didn’t give the reason. SIGH.
Mike asked Ryan, “Why do you think Kim is not going?” Ryan shrugged his shoulders. Mike continued, “She’s not going because no one has asked her.” Pause. Pause. LIGHT BULB ON!
Ryan picked up his phone and called. No one answered. Ryan left a message, “Kim, do you want to go to the Homecoming Dance on Saturday with me?”
Now the wait begins!
I think my husband and I are more excited about this than Ryan! Even if she says no, Ryan has asked a girl out. This is a success story!

Surprises

“I don’t know.” That is usually the response to any question given Ryan. It is an easy out, and he does not have to talk much. Not many people will pursue asking more questions either.

I receive that answer every time I ask Ryan what he might want to pursue as a hobby or career. “I don’t know” rings out. Yesterday, Ryan told me that he wants to try his hand at writing. That totally surprised me. Ryan has a difficult time expressing himself, whether in conversation or in an essay. Overcoming an obstacle is never easy.
Yet, when I think about it–when I started home schooling him three years, he started writing a book. At first, I did not think much of it. However, now he has shown me 40 pages of written words, telling a story. His own creation. Now he’s back at school, and English is very difficult. He writes his book when he takes a break from homework.
I never imagined that my son with autism, whose language skills are not very strong, would want to pursue writing! Just goes to show that the potential of these autistic kids is endless.