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Category Archives: Faith Walk

Children turn to their shepherd in a time of need. Lead them to God through love, for they are lost and cannot find their way home.

Autism: Created to Be

When I left, I felt really good. I was decently calm (I never am fully calm when I have anything to do) and even wanted to be out visiting; which is very unusual for me. I talked to people, and smiled, and then…

It wasn’t part of what he had planned to say, but he made a comment about ‘human people,’ which lead him to start talking about ‘dog people.’ You know, like “human people… I don’t know why I said that. What other kind of people are there… unless they are dog people…”

So then he went to mention that they were not people – dogs that is – or your babies, or…

He made it sound like a joke, and lots of people were laughing. Some were even clapping, which doesn’t happen frequently.

Then he said he thought it was a gospel problem, and he could write a whole sermon about it. Then he went back to what he had been talking about before he got distracted.

The whole thing maybe lasted 2-3 minutes – but it caused me struggle for the entire day. Not even a little bit, I was fully triggered into severe anxiety and depression, which were very difficult to overcome.

My babies are my source of joy. A level of joy I have rarely experienced in my life. They are… if not healing my loss (which isn’t likely to happen this side of heaven – the pain and trauma and triggers are all to much) they are at least helping me to go forward.

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They are an answer to my ache for children, for family, even for friends – which people took from me over and over again.

They are my tie to sanity, though I have to let go of some to keep the rest.

They are not people – and I am so thankful for that! But their place in my life as my ‘babies’ is essential for so much of my life it would take all day, and maybe even more, to explain it (and even then most people wouldn’t understand it.)

It was a joke, but still I worry that people are coming to take even this away from me. And why not? They’ve taken pretty much everything else. And it makes me want to hide again, and not go to church, or write, or go out, or be seen, or share myself with anyone ever again – much as I felt when my children were taken.

And it was only my dog, who was given to me for that very reason, who could pull me through that. Then he died, and I was back there again. So I was given Clara, and a few months later Molly, and several months later Misty-Grace. They are my babies…

I went in happy, and left in pain. I am pretty sure he didn’t mean for that to happen – and while it may sound like I am venting about ‘those’ people who don’t understand, this is a man I both like and respect. Perhaps if it weren’t so, it wouldn’t hurt so much.

It is just another thing wrong with me.

I was upset for a long time after until… the sermon series we have been on is titled ‘God Still Speaks.’ And this I believe. I was upset until God reminded me through thoughts that He gave me my dogs, and He gave them to me for this very purpose. He gave me this heart for animals, and it is a gift – not a gospel issue.

This love I have for my babies is a strength, not a weakness, and this is an essential part of who I was created to be.

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Autism: Earth Has No Sorrow…

The sharp pain has become a dull ache, with a knot in my chest and stomach.

Perhaps she isn’t dying? Do they ever have such trips for children who aren’t terminal? I still haven’t been able to tell my husband.

I went downtown to do some shopping, and stopped in (on purpose) to the store where I know ‘my’ (foster) son works. I bought stuff I probably wouldn’t have if he weren’t there, but I really needed to see him; and felt I needed the excuse to be there.

He recognized me in line so I waved at him and he waved back. He wasn’t my cashier, but he did talk to me (he is much more social than I am, and doesn’t seem to be afraid to talk.) My heart was burning and I felt like I would cry.

Why did they have to be taken from me?

Will it ever stop hurting?

‘They’ say, “Earth has no sorrow that heaven can’t heal,” and I want to believe it, but… My imagination doesn’t carry me that far.

My Clara is stressed out that I am upset. She has been peeing on the floor and sulking in her crate. How do I explain to her that I am afraid my baby is dying; I am hurting over my past; I am feeling empty and hopeless about my future?

I pick her up and rock and I sing to her. I am sorry baby girl; you can’t help me with this, and I can’t fix it – but I love you.

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Autism: Unwanted Dreams

As thoughts of my children overwhelm me, there is a sadness which catches within and threatens me with memories and fears of despair. My heart and soul long for their return even now, though they have been gone eight long years.

I woke up with the song “God is Awesome,” running through my head. “… there is power here for miracles to set the captives free and make the broken whole…” I am broken. I was broken before my children were taken that day, but in that moment I was shattered.

The thought of my children returning fills my mind with dreams of a future; an expansion of my heart and life where all other ‘dreams’ are of shelter, isolation, retreat. I still want to learn such things, and still think they are ‘good’ things to do – but in my children I see ‘life’ and ‘purpose.’ I see ‘future’ and ‘hope.’ And while I worry about the transition for my son that was left with us, I also see that my fears of him being alone, and even for his faith, have their answer in this.

But what is the point? This dream is a fantasy on par with my desire for teleportation and wishes that come true. It won’t happen – and this hope? It fills me with life and joy for a moment, and crashes in despair in the realization that it won’t ever happen.

The ministry would never come seeking us to take our children home – they neither saw the children as ‘ours’ (since we never had finalization on the adoption and weren’t related by blood) nor did they see us during that last year with us as a decent answer for the children.

And why would the children want us? They are settled where they are, even if it is foster care, and the girls wouldn’t even remember us, they were so young. Besides… what have I to offer them?

So the dream that shows me a life full of purpose, and healing in my heart, mind, and marriage, turns to despair as I admit to myself that it is impossible. And my heart breaks as I feel myself losing my children all over again. And again the loss threatens my sanity for there has been far too much of it.

The thought came strong after hearing the apology from my sister in law – for until that night I would have said that was more impossible than having my children returned to us, but it came. Unexpectedly, and unsought, it came. And I thought, if God could orchestrate that, having my children returned to me couldn’t be so hard.

And I allowed the thought. I fixated on it for days.

But dreams… in my life, dreams don’t come true.

And the pain that comes crashing over me when I realize again that the loss was forever… it destroys me. It shatters me all over again, and I wasn’t even healed from the first time.

I guess that there are some hopes, and some dreams that I must convince myself I don’t want. Children? That is one. My children? Never, ever, ever!

And yet even telling myself I don’t want them brings pain, and tears, and despair.

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Autism: Best Case Scenario

The fear had been strong. The panic was growing as the time came closer and closer. I had no idea how I would manage. My therapist said I had nothing to fear, and that made my fear worse; of course I had much to fear.

We finished packing and got in the car. As we started to drive I felt calm, peace – excitement even – washing over me. It could be a good trip. Though things could end really bad, they might be okay. Still I had concern for when we got there a little over 2 hours later.

When we pulled in, I had a moment of panic. A moment of pain. Just a second really, and then from nowhere came the peace and contentment once more. They were there. I was there. I was okay. It had to be… it had to be… “Thank you, Lord.”

We had our day. I walked the dogs, went for a swim, brought ‘my girls’ closer. I looked over at them and felt… fine! Where did that come from? Thank you, Lord.

I had my supper before everyone else – I have to do that or I panic, and am overwhelmed, and fall apart; doesn’t matter who I am with – their food is more than I can handle. Their timing leaves me crashing. I ate, went to the camper to write my journal, and felt… good!

In the evening we played cards. We had a great game of ’31;’ best ever, really. Then we played ‘hearts,’ and I enjoyed that, too. It was a good evening. I felt… happy!

After cards a couple of people who don’t live too far left for the night. A couple more went down to the lake or something. We were left with this couple who brought about such traumatic pain in our lives 9 years ago almost to the day.

She began by asking about the kids and went into a very sincere apology for calling the ministry on us. It was sincere. I fully believe that. I can tell these things. They felt bad. It was all over their faces. Regret was there; I know it.

She said that she thought at the time that her heart was in the right place, but looking back, “maybe it wasn’t.” I could tell from their expressions this has been painful for them for a long time. She told me she felt sick over it, and has regretted it for a long time.

I responded that “we all do things we regret.” My husband agreed. I don’t know if they saw it, but I was sincere, too. I know regret. I know shame. I know pain. My ‘gift’ (and for good reason) is mercy, and mercy they had for their remorse was very real.

We then spent a very long time talking about the children – and I spoke to them as I speak to everyone else about my kids who cares to know. It was nothing short of amazing to be there talking to them like that. Not fake. Not forced. True and natural.

I know it was all God. I never even hoped to have anything like that experience from them, or to ever get an apology. My fear was that in being near to them I wouldn’t be able to show them the grace I knew I should give, being a child of God. I was afraid I would fail… again. I was afraid of what they could do to me, or take away from me, and was afraid that would show.

What was given was better than I could ever have imagined – and all I can say is, “Thank you, Lord.”

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Autism: How the Story Ends

“Do not fret because of those who are evil or be envious of those who do wrong; for like the grass they will soon wither.” (Psalm 37:1-2)

I read that in my devotional this morning, and it was so needed; for I frequently find myself full of pain and fear over the evil that is in this world.

The greed.

I guess I have known this for a long time, but the older I get, the heavier the weight it carries: capitalism feeds greed.

It isn’t even about wanting more and more, and working hard to get it. That, I suppose, is what capitalism is about: the hope that if you work hard enough, and give enough of yourself, your circumstances (will?) improve.

But that isn’t the reality for most people – and even that isn’t what bothers me most.

It is the greed that says, “I will do whatever it takes to get ahead,” and either doesn’t take into account, or doesn’t even care what it costs to others.

Like pet food companies that work for profit, and keep products on the market even when they know it is killing animals.

Like clothing companies, or toy companies, or shoe companies, or… just about everything that uses slave labour to create products at the cheapest cost to sell in richer markets for a huge profit – not caring what they are doing to the people on the bottom.

Like people who cut down rain forests to grow crops to feed animals, so people in the developed world can feel rich eating much more meat than their bodies require – while people are starving in other parts of the world, and plants and animals that should have been left alone, become extinct.

Like people who buy multi-million dollar vacation homes that are left unused much of the time while children are dying of hunger, and for lack of proper medicines and clean water.

So much evil! So much greed!

And it overwhelms me most of the time; I can’t block it out.

How could we?

How could we keep doing this year after year, and decade after decade, and think it is okay?

And I guess if it weren’t for money, people would seek power in its place – and people would be abused, and used, and killed for others to get to the top. And I ask myself, why is it so competitive? Why can’t we work in cooperation instead? Why can’t we make it better?

But the world is full of evil, and sometimes it seems that evil will win.

But evil doesn’t win – and that is what this verse reminded me of today. “In the end it will all be okay; and if it isn’t okay, it isn’t the end.”

I read the book. I know how the story ends. If only I could remember that when I look around and see how bad things are right now.

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Autism: I Long For The End

How can my life be fixed?

How can I move forward when the past continues to cry out for redemption?

Broken as I am; standing on a fine line between sanity and insanity; how can anything good, or true, or righteous come out of my existence?

I dream of things that are wrong, or impossible… and when I wake, I still desire them in part.

Even in longing to belong to God, I still desire things which God has determined are not right for me. In the battle between flesh and spirit, the flesh frequently lays the stronger claim.

“Oh wretched (person) that I am, who will deliver me from this body of death?” (Romans 7:24)

I am filled with a restlessness and a discontent which nothing in this evil, broken world can satisfy; and I long for escape.

Where others find joy and connection, I see a world filled with pain and despair, and feel powerless to help at all. And evil as I know I am, this overpowering desire to ease the pain and suffering (which I have carried for all of my life) only breaks me further as I come to see that my presence, and my very best attempts only serve to cause more pain.

Who am I?

Why am I here?

Will I ever make it home?

What more will I cost others along the way in my weakened attempts to serve some greater purpose, and remove just a little bit of the hurt in this broken world?

Some days I long for the end, for… “the end is where we begin,” (Captain Jack Harkness – Torchwood)

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Autism: If The World Ends

If the world ends this year, or I am taken out of it, what would happen to my girls? To my son? To my mom? Death comes to us all, and I long for a world that is good. I long for a world in which I am good, and where evil had no place. Yet I fear abandoning my loved ones to a life of loneliness, terror, torture, despair. I fear abandoning my loved ones to a life or eternity of hell. This is not what I want for them.

For not knowing God, is that the life they deserve? It is the life I deserve, and it causes me to tremble. Yet by grace I am saved, and I pray that grace to cover them, too. This life may become so much worse than the pain I have known, and I am very afraid; for there is no promise I will be spared such things. I have no illusions that I should be spared when millions before and many beside me were not.

Yet this hope remains: that however this ends, and whatever I experience, my eternal future is secure in him that gave his life that I might be welcomed home.

How should I be awarded this surety when others were denied? Am I more righteous than any of them? Truly I know that I am not. I am saved because I believed the one who saved me. Saved. By grace and grace alone. And I long for the same for a world hurting, and dying, and lost.

If I had the words, I would shout it from the mountaintop. Yet the words that tumble from my mouth are rarely understood, and frequently cause offence.

So I whisper it quietly with tears pouring down my face: “Lord, please save them too.” For if God could love me through all of my sin, shame, and failure, I am fully convinced that there is nothing another has said, or done, or failed at that would deny God’s love to them… if only they would believe.

So I pray again, “Lord soften their unbelieving hearts, teach them of your love, and save them.”

And Lord? Please come quickly.

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