Relationships

This summer, I was looking an ultrasound picture of a friend's soon-to-be-born daughter. It reminded me of when K was born. He had a tough delivery. At first, the medication they gave me to induce labor worked too hard all of a sudden and they had to give me medication to slow labor, break my water, and then add more saline to take the pressure off his head. He was trying to be born ear first, goofy kid. That was the first stress on him. Then, he insisted on being born facing sideways rather than facing up or down, and every time the doctor tried to turn him, he beligerantly rotated back. At one point his umbilical cord got compressed, and his oxygen levels plummeted, as well as his heart rate. At that point the doctor was working hard to get him out and caused a brachial plexus injury (damaged nerve in the neck from the head being pulled or turned too hard or too quickly or too far).

He was born with a huge bruise on the side and top of his head, from trying to come through ear first, and had a paralyzed, limp left arm, from the brachial plexus injury.

We were happy he was alive and seemingly well.

It wasn't too long after that that I remembered his ultrasound from a day or two before his birth. Both arms were moving. In the first few weeks, when we weren't sure if he would regain the use of his arm, or how much he would regain, it seemed to us that it really didn't matter. We loved him and he was ours, no matter what worked and what didn't. The arm is mostly healed now. It is a little weaker and the shoulder blade wings a little, and there is a little less range of motion; but the average person cannot tell. And K himself does not know.

As he has gotten older and we have seen more of his personality, we wonder how much, if any, was caused by the trauma of birth. He is bold and impulsive. Is this the brain injury or his genes? He has very poor vision in one eye. He has trouble processing words that he hears. He has more than a few ADD characteristics. Is any of this attributable to his birth?

We can see his arm moving clearly on the ultrasound, but we cannot know how well he sees, or how well he listens, or how well he focuses.

I think, if I had to choose, I would rather have to deal with a physical disability than a mental/social one. We can easily see the paralyzed arm and know that if someone doesn't extend their right hand to shake ours, it's because they cannot. We cannot easily see the mental/social/perceptual disability. If he calls a boy "kid", the boy thinks he is being rude, but doesn't realize he lacks the ability to remember his face or his name. If he is bold in wanting to "enforce" the rules, he gets perceived as a bully by others, rather than as someone who lacks inhibition by means of a brain injury.

I guess the reason it's so much harder to deal with the "disabilities" we cannot see, is that it affects his relationships with people. Not that a physical disability doesn't, but people can SEE a physical disability and just accept it as fact; whereas they cannot SEE the mental ones and they are less accepting of this kind of thing.

Maybe someday I will get to know the K as God intended him to be, before the injury of birth. But until then, I will just love the K as he is, for who he is, and enjoy and mold those attributes that tend to irritate others. I don't know if he is who he is by design or by accident; but it doesn't matter, because who he is is all I know. And it just breaks my heart that the rest of the world cannot love him like I do...and that I cannot love him like God does.

I guess what I will take from this, for the rest of my life, is not to criticize other people for this or that; but to just accept them as they are and be happy about who they are.

A Place So Dark....

In the very front corner of our property is a thistle patch. When we first bought the property, there was thick plastic up there that kept anything from growing there and when I pulled up the plastic, only thistles grew. I have battled the thistles and had made great progress, but they got away from me in the past two years and there was a great thislte patch there again this year (my soil must be PERFECT for growing thisltes!!) Anyway, I was mowing that thicket last week and I noticed that on Bill's side of the fence, nothing was growing on the ground, not even weeds. It is so dark under there--under the firs, the apple tree, the ancient lilac and the climbing roses that have made a little hedge along our fence, blocking out nearly all light.

I have been mulling over the implications of that...a place so dark that not even the weeds will grow...wondering what God was trying to show me with this.

I have been thinking about that plastic, laid down who knows how long ago, and by whom, and for what purpose? --but having the effect also of making a place so dark that not even the weeds will grow. And then I came along and took it up, and what grew? Thistles. God's light shines into a place that has been devoid of light (and moisture) for who knows how long, and what fruit is born? Thistles-- prickly, stickly thistles. But when the ground is tended, watered, grazed, mowed, the thistles leave and grass grows. And then, again, when the area is neglected, what grows back? Thistles.

I think the lesson is twofold. First, if there are thistles growing, there is hope. A friend once said that some things are beyond prayer. I don't know what she meant, but I respect her enough to believe her. There are places so dark that even weeds won't grow. So, if there are stickly, prickly thistles, there is hope.

Second, a once-for-all submission to God does not work. A place tended will bear fruit, but when untended will revert to thistles. We can't just say, "Okay, God, I'm yours. Use me." and be done with it. We have to keep submitting and keep looking for those areas that need submitting. We have to keep cutting the thistles down. We have to keep using the land--mowing it, grazing it, watering it, weeding it.

Letter from a 2-year-old

Mom was going through her old things and gave me this letter from K, sent many years ago. I thought it was worth sharing...

Dear Gma,

Thank you for the letter. The first thing I noticed was the train stamp. Mom showed me the envelope and showed me my name, then I, very excitedly, showed HER the train. I liked the stickers too, but was a little disappointed at first that they were "stuck!" Mom and I went to the bank and I read my letter the whole way. When we got to the drive-up window, I showed it to the teller and told her all about it, but when she answered, I got shy and turned away. Mom said she smiled real big and said I was "so cute". (How does everybody know my other name?)

When we got home, I helped Mom make a cake. She even let me pick three eggs out of the refrigerator. I stood on a chair and watched as Mom cracked them open. I licked the beater and watched the cake bake in the oven. Then, after dinner, I ate it!

I'm very busy being two and a half. I'm talking lots--well, I always have, but now Mom and Dad are hearing better. Today, when Mom and I got home, we parked outside Laura's room. I lookd at her window and said, " 'Ts gone, da cat!" Well, the LAST time we came home, Annie was in the window, but this time she wasn't. I'm enjoying watching Cinderella (over and over). Mom found the book last night and I read it to her. We read lots of books--mostly, I read and Mom tries to only turn one page at a time. (She's no speed reader.)

I'm practicing lots of words with Gracie. She is getting BIG. She and I are both learning manners--don't pounce, don't bite, get down, be gentle. Mostly, I say to Gracie, "Let go!" and she says to me, "Yipe!", which, loosely translated, means "Get off!"

Well, it's bedtime now. I love you and am saving a hug for you (and a smile). K

In the Olden Days

We were watching "The Gods Must Be Crazy" today and K was trying to figure out what the "evil thing" was that was dropped from the airplane. We told him it was a Coke bottle and he said, "I thought so, but it looks like it is made out of glass!"

Yes, honey, in the olden days they used to make pop bottles out of glass.

We used to dial telephones (not push buttons), roll car windows up and down (not push buttons), send letters in the mail (not email), get ice from trays in the freezer (not push a button on the front). And, believe it or no, a phone was connected by a wire in the house. You could not play games on it, send text messages on it, take pictures with it, or connect to the internet--in fact, there was no internet!

Living with Fear (and without it)

I refuse to be ashamed of my fear of snakes. After all, I come by it honestly!

So the Lord God said to the serpent, "Because you have done this,
Cursed are you above all the livestock and all the wild animals!
You will crawl on your belly and you will eat dust all the days of your life.
And I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and hers;
He will crush your head, and you will strike his heel."

I often think to myself, there isn't all that much I'm afraid of. My biggest "fear", I suppose, is that something bad would happen to my children--particularly K--that he would disappear and I not know what happened to him. This is the stuff of nightmares. And of course, there is that innate fear of snakes, which I am consciously trying to get over. But last night, at our women's meeting, I learned that I'm really "afraid" of so much more!

I remember as a teenager--those naive, idealistic years--wondering why the gospel had not spread further. I wondered about missions, why people would have to go to a foreign land to preach the gospel; because, if it were true and real, would it not spread from neighbor to neighbor, like a virulent flu, and within a very short time spread around the world? Why hasn't it? I would have expected the gospel to have spread throughout the world within one generation, possibly two; but it has been two millenia!! And often it does not even go from one generation to the next! Why not?

At our women's group last night, one woman spoke about her neighbors, how they were so different from her in values, in habits, in lifestyle, in temperment, in attitudes and habits, and how all these things annoyed her to the point that she wanted to sell her house and move. She pointed out how we don't really "see" our neighbors. We don't know our neighbors for the most part, let alone have any kind of relationship with them. She talked about how, as she prayed about these things and asked God to remove her from all this irritation, He answered, "You are exactly where I want you to be." (This was a wake-up call to me, because, as I have groaned to God these past years about this and that in my life, He has said the very thing to me.) She started praying for her neighbors and started caring about them as people that God cherished, seeing them through God's eyes--not from a "holier-than-thou" perspective or even with an eye to change all that was irritating to her about them, but from a perspective of, "These people really need to know the love of God, and come into a relationship with Him, and be healed." And things started changing.

I started thinking about my own neighbors and why it was so hard to share the Lord with them. I realized that, while I don't criticize myself about some things, others probably do. And who knows my faults better than my family and my neighbors? And when I get honest about it, I am afraid of what they will think of me and how I represent God to them. I'm afraid that I will just be another one of those people--'Oh, she's a Christian? I sure don't want to be one then, because I sure don't want to be like her!" Deep down, I feel inadequate, on just about every level, to represent God at all.

I'm pretty sure this "fear" is why the gospel has not gone from person to person, neighbor to neighbor, parent to child. We think we have to be perfect, we are afraid of what people will think, we are afraid we are not good enough, we are afraid people will think we are nuts. We don't show our 'bad' sides, so when people finally get a glimpse of them, they think we are hypocrites. Or maybe, in some areas, we are hypocrites, because we have not yielded that area of our lives to God's sovereignty.

But the truth is, "while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us". He doesn't just call the "religious", the upright, the perfect homemakers, the white-collar workers. He wants us all. And if we truly have God's heart, then we also will want all people to come into a relationship with God. That includes all our neighbors, not just the "tolerable" ones.

I'm afraid they won't like me. I'm afraid they will reject me--or worse, that they will reject Christ because of me. But Jesus said, "If the world hates you, keep in mind that it hated me first. "

The Truth is that it really only matters what God thinks of me. I just have to do my best, submit all things to Him as I am made aware of them, be open to His leading, and be as honest as I can in all areas; and then just let Him take care of the rest.

If I find a snake in my house, God is still God. If I go hungry, God is still God. If I lose my home, God is still God. If I lose my health, God is still God. If I lose a loved one, God is still God. If, God forbid, I lose my mind, God is still God.

Romans 8: 35-39 "Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? As it is written: "For your sake we face death all day long: we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered." No, in all these things we are more than canquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord."

Psalm 139:7-10 "Where can I go from your spirit? Where can I flee from you presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast."

On Judgment Day, the only voice that will have any weight will be God's. The only thing I should fear is God.

Truly, I can't control what people say or think about me. I can't control any aspect of the economy or the weather or wars around the world. I'm relatively powerless over anything beyond my little acre, my sphere of responsibility. Dorcus Smucker wrote, in her book "Ordinary Days", about the fear and sense of powerlessness that came with September 11, 2001. "And when I honestly acknowledge my own helplessness, I find that I am least afraid of the future."

Smiles and Hisses

Did you ever notice that when God confused men's language, in the days of the Tower of Babel, that He left us a smile (and most facial expressions), which means the same in all languages (as far as I know)? A baby's smile is one of the most delightful things in all the earth. A mother delights in her baby's first smile. Who can resist smiling at a baby in church---or anywhere else, for that matter?

Similarly, in the animal kingdom, I have noticed that a hiss means the same thing across all species (as far as I know). I remember walking out my back door one dark night and hearing a loud hiss, only to see that I had surprised an opossum. Cats hiss, snakes hiss. Not all animals hiss--I don't recall ever hearing a dog hiss--but I'm pretty sure that all animals understand what a hiss means.

Last night, on my way to bed, one of our 4-month-old kittens was behind the piano. It seeemed that she was stuck there, so I pulled out the card table we store back there, thinking perhaps that would free her, and called her, but she opted to go out the other end and come to me around the front. I noted that they had knocked down a string or hair ribbon or something. I reached for the card table to put it back, but the ribbon was moving toward me. It was dark, I was on my way to bed, and there was a snake behind my piano.

When I thought about it later, I realized that snake had been in my house all day! Joe Kitty, our 4-year-old indoor cat, had been batting at balloons earlier in the day--at least I thought it was balloons. And on the off chance that she had been playing with a mouse, I picked up some debris that had fallen on the floor near where she was, but seeing no mouse concluded she was playing with shrinking, leftover birthday balloons. Before bed, the cats were making a ruckus behind the couch, and I just assumed they were playing...but now I recognize that the snake had moved along the wall, under the couch (eeek) and then gone along--or behind--the bookshelves along that wall and then behind the piano. Now, you have to realize that it is one foot from the end of the piano to my bedroom door, which has more than ample room for a snake to crawl under. I had no choice but to catch it, if I wanted to be able to sleep....with the light off. (I once found a large snake skin on a shelf six feet off the floor in my shed. I know snakes can climb!)

When it saw me, it stopped. But it was between a rock and a hard place, me on one end, and cats everywhere else, because at this point there were four felines helping me herd this snake. Gary grabbed an old piece of trim, which worked much better than the little dowel I had grabbed for holding the snake in place while I tried to grab it; but I had only been able to find a left-handed glove in my haste and this snake was striking viciously, even biting himself and the board that was pinning him to the floor. I'm sure his life flashed before his eyes, but i did not feel dexterous enough with my left hand to grab him close enough behind the head to not get bitten (not that he could have bitten through my glove, as my husband pointed out, but hey, HE was not picking up this snake, or even offering to!). Finally, I grabbed him by the tail end to transport him outside, and he was striking at my arm the whole way.

What a contrast to the snake our cat brought in the other day, who just played 'possum. We were able to pet him and hold him and transport him to safety without fear.

I am reminded of that scripture, Isaiah 11:8. "The infant will play near the hole of the cobra, and the young child put his hand in the viper's nest. They will neither harm nor destroy on all my holy mountain, for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea."

If that snake last night had known that I would not hurt him, would not eat him, would not kill him, he would have gladly let me pick him up to take him outside instead of striking at the hand that was trying to save him. There will come a day when "the lion will eat straw like the ox" (Isaiah 11:7), when there will no longer be enmity between serpent and man, when fear will be no more, because the earth will be full of the knowledge of the Lord, and His perfect love casts out all fear. I wonder if in that day the animals will talk, as they do in Narnia, as apparently they did in Eden.

I look forward to that day. Lord, bring it on!!