Do not ask my son for approval. People stare at him sniffing my hair and he could care less. The acceptance of God in our lives is not dependent on humans.
Sitting at church today, it struck me how critical humanity can be towards each other. I watched an elderly man act out. He disgreed about some dialogue. I sat quiet. How many times had I opened my mouth? How about thinking it, but not speaking it? Words spoken or not can divide.
I travel a lot. Getting out of my comfort zone brings me to different cultures and diversity. I enjoy meeting new people. Communication is key. I find a smile is most inviting. It is the best kind of approval. Maybe. I am happy.
I think upon myself and wonder how hedonistic I may be. That deep seeded place thinking only about being happy as my greatest approval factor. Can you relate?
Do I need to look to the skys for my answer? Yes, and I also know my approval rating needs to be more like how my son looks at being accepted. It is with no thought of what others might think.
Let it go. Close my eyes and sniff away like my Luke! There will I find peace in God.
Having an adult son with autism has hard and complicating challenges. My first time hearing Luke’s diagnosis in 1994 made me numb. It did not seem real.
I did not realize how much I did. It is true. I need you. God I really need you.
I have lost some decent friends to death in the last three years. Life is not easy.
As I rewind I know I need you. Starting over like the seasons do year after year, I am left alone knowing my story is so intertwined with you. It is a beautiful tapestry of love.
I came home from a funeral today and while watering my plants, I sense your presence. Its from the gush of the water in my hose startled, I hold on and start spraying my flowers. I think about my autistic son jumping in the lake and I sense your presence.
Water brings life. It is interesting when we are in the desert of life, we may be numb to pain. When we are touched by rain, we wake up. I know I have. In the desert- I felt alone. When watering and being rained on, I bow my head and wondered why I could ever think of not needing you.
Many of you hate it. Today I embrace it as I sit in the back of a car with my son Luke. He is happy with his autism always giving me a child in an adult’s body. We both sense an awareness of contentment as the radio softly nurtures us with a melody of love and joy.
In the front seat my youngest son discusses life with his dad. He pauses to look back at me smiling and gently puts his hand on my knee.
My heart is full in these moments. These are them tucked away in my memories. Nothing can steal this time. I feel filled up with all I need.
Traffic is all around, but I am not driving. All is well on my road.
Imagine a world without hurt. Everytime I turn around lately, the world’s a bit more cold, distant, aloof. The pain is palpable.
I am full of life and know this feeling comes from deep within. It is a blessing from God. I know when I crash, however, it can be as if my breath is taken away from me.
Last night I attended Neil Diamond’s 50th anniversary concert here in Seattle. I loved every minute. After the concert, my friends and I stuck around the venue late walking around. A medic working with the musicians came up to us and asked me specifically if I was a big fan. I said yes. Before I knew it he handed me the oxygen mask Neil Diamond utilized right before he came back onstage to give his encore.
Random, don’t ya think? It was very sweet of him. It was a breath of fresh air figuratively for me and physically for our star. I wonder what I should do with it. I need your ideas!!!! I am one happy girl right now.
Ode to Diary Input on Valentine’s Day, 1999
Recently I read from an old journal of mine. My diary depicted a smart gal with more positivity a person could muster. There was no facebook, twitter, youtube, amazon or even google. There was just a lonely gal writing.
Problems are mixed up. Some are easy to deal with. Others are not. The heavier the conflict, the more noticeable my frailties would come to light.