What is it about the urge to write at inopportune times? In the car, out of town, at two am? I said at two AM!?!?!?!?!? Well, I did say I wanted to blog.....
My husband found this article and left it up on his computer.
http://www.salon.com/mwt/feature/2009/03/26/bauer_autism/Yesterday morning I read through it and wept so bitterly I had to lock myself in the bathroom to prevent my children from seeing my painful red and wet face. It wasn't a new fear that filled me but the scab had been scratched off and it was bleeding again. This mother just articulated it so well. She was sharing her own painful story and I was crying because I don't want to be her someday. Now, reading this I make the assumption that she is not a believer due to some references about where she puts her hope. (One place is with Obama and I could really go on about that for a while but that is not the topic of this post.) Anyway, I am not sure if that is accurate or not but I thought her references to hope seemed flimsy at best. But in many ways I have been there (am there?). I know that I have complete access to the creator of the universe through my risen savior. And yet, if I am brutally honest, there are times when hope seems stupid wishful thinking.
All I have to do is whisper? Then why aren't my shouts being heard?
The night before I read this article our son had said to his little sister "I am going to stab you in your pee-pee". It shocked us and disturbed us to say the least.
"Where in the world did you hear something like that?"
"I don't know. I just made it up."
Later he blamed it on public school kids. Yeah right, all the evils of the world are because of public school kids. I think making it up is even worse than hearing it somewhere. He also saw the article on the computer. He sat in my lap and cried and said, "I just want to grow up and have a job and have a family and be happy." Yeah, me too.
We know a family that seems so perfect it just makes you sick to your stomach. She has a beautiful house in the country which her husband built with his own hands. The amazing front door was conveniently left in a dumpster for them to find. She has a small but lovely parcel of land from which a bountiful garden spills forth. Her children romp around in a playhouse, a swing set (the kind so big even the grown-ups can swing real high on it), and a little babbling brook. The adults have an outdoor kitchen and covered patio to sip their lemonade and have their bible study.
Bleh!
A few weeks ago we were at her house. She told a story about how their dog (who is also gorgeous and perfect of course) had been run over by a bobcat when she was six months old. They took her to the vet for x-rays and found out that the dog's hips and entire pelvis had been shattered. They decided not to spend the money on the expensive and likely unsuccessful surgery and took her home. The dog was prayed over during their bible study. And it was miraculously healed. Not right away, but all the broken bones in that shattered dog healed into all the right positions. "Wow! That's amazing!" Everyone said. I felt like screaming, crying, slapping her face and puking all at once.
What about my son? Am I to think that the creator of the universe values a dog more than my son?
There are times when I see things and I just can't comprehend why they are the way they are. I see the struggles my son faces minute by minute. And I know there is greater suffering in the world than his. But still...
I also know a family whose son passed away because of a terrible genetic disorder. He knew a lot of pain towards the end of his short life. I found out about their son's diagnosis just a few weeks after we found out about our son's. I really grieved for him and his family. It was genuine. I did not wish this upon them or think that it was great they had to endure this. But at the same time there was a little voice in the back of my head that said, "But I would rather deal with that than this." GASP! How could you say such a thing? You are ungrateful and crazy!
Maybe.
But like this mother said - Oh if it were as simple as just cancer!
At least with cancer (or any fill-in-the-blank disease you like) you know what you're battling. It is as though we are chasing after an intangible, unpredictable spook. Yes, like she said, a monster. Will we conquer it? Will our love, time, energy, prayers, reading, counseling, therapy, faith and tears be enough? Or will it rear up and devour our son right in front of us? It always comes down to the same question doesn't it? Why?
I do not want to be like her. I do not want to hope in research or therapies or diets or other such quack juice.I do not want to lose hope. But I can relate to her. She articulated the dark fear that lies within. She is living it.
But please God, not my son. Please Lord, I believe. Save me from my disbelief.
