Saturday, January 25, 2014



Autism Heals


    I am a blessed mother of a 5 year old little girl who has Autism. But, I did not always feel so blessed. In-fact I have struggled deeply with being her mother. All the normal methods of parenting do not apply when you have a child with Autism. In fact it's a deep mystery that exposes every insecurity, sinful though and drives you to the end of your rope. Paisley, that's her name, was about 1 when we knew something was special about her. I was soon to find out that I was the mother of a special needs child. The stigmatism that I associated with that has been huge. The beliefs that this life was lost.

   When Paisley was 2 1/2 I took her to the park and realized that after therapy, speech she had made little to no progress. Not because her therapist were not good but because my daughter was in a world all her own and I was unable to enter. I was looking at my daughter who was in the corner of the kiddos play ground alone and reverted to a behavior we had worked on a year to stop. I was over come with despair, and disappointment. When suddenly I heard a whisper in my heart that said, "When will you see her the way I see her and not for where the world sees her?" It was in that moment that I began to except that she was perfect the way she was and that she didn't need to meet those mile stones, and from then on I decided to celebrate every word, eye contact, gesture, and hug because hers meant more than most.

    Now I have gone to wonderful groups for moms with children my daughters age to glean from them. I want to say out front that I think these groups are good and vital to mothers raising children, but this is written from the perspective of a mother of an autistic child.  The regular topics consisted of obedience, organization, listening, temper-tantrums, and sibling fighting, making quality time, teaching your children about Jesus. My issues have been self mutilation, smearing poop on the wall, pulling at her eye balls, many many many sleepless nights, hitting others, throwing objects for no known reason to me and hitting her head against the wall till blood spattered. I have never had time to teach her to share, or to have patience. Secretly in my head I was thinking. If only we could trade problems I would in a heart beat. I have felt so alone and with thoughts like: I should not be her mother, I should put her up for adoption, what would christians think of me if i did that, To putting my daughter in her room for her own safety to putting my self in my room for her safety and calling her father and telling him to call the police because I cannot be her mom anymore, to understanding why some women kill their children. Yes, these are the thoughts of a mother that is dealing with years and years of no answers and where the world around her is experiencing something so very different.

    How Autism is healing me is both beautiful and just astounding. Often you will here people say that children with Autism are incapable of empathy. That is not true. During this last year while caring our son that did move to heaven shortly after his birth, our daughters heart blossomed in a miraculous ways. She first noticed my tears and would touch them and think then taste them, then she started wiping them and putting them on her eyes and saying this is sad. For the first time I had a little girl that in the middle of the winter in my heart was like the sun of heaven and I knew she knew I was sad and that meant she could feel sadness to. She used to ask her baby brother to come to paisleys room to play, she was excited and when he was born it was as if everything she wanted she'd got. She held him, the little girl that has so often refused affection was giving affection. During this time we were having all the problems listed above. Something beautiful was happing to my daughter. Something that I had not seen before and it was here in a time where these wasn't really anything I could find to smile about. It was paisley that spread a smile across my face of despair at least once a day if not more, or she was curling up on my laps saying Jesus loves me too.

    I'v heard every diet plan, healthy option, and vitamin tips and trick to better behaviors through natural methods. Now some of these methods are legit, and those that are cost thousands of dollars a year and is not covered. So unless you are a millionaire it's not an option.  Yet I do all that I can and Paisley is die free, dairy free for the most part, but she is not gluten free because she is not allergic, and to tell you the truth, changing diet didn't change her behavior at all. I faced the social free and put my five year old on medication and with in a month she had stopped nearly above listed behaviors and I have a little girl who is expressing what I think has been waiting to get out. My daughter Paisley who has Autism is being used by God to heal my broken heart. I am the perfect mom for her, and I am glad that Paisley has autism. Because of this I will alway be her mommy, weather she is 10, 30 or 50. Because of Paisley I have more courage, boldness, and bravery to pursue my dreams. That way I can cheer her on into her dreams. She cannot accomplish her dreams unless I chase mine. Is it still hard? yes, and am I still unraveling this mystery no. It's not mine to unravel, but to enjoy. My daughter laughs now, speaks to me, hugs me and wipes my tears. She, dances with daddy and she sleeps with me sometimes. She sings everything to the tune of amazing grace and talks to her fairies about Jesus. My daughter with autism is transforming my life into the most beautiful experience.

He is making all things new.

Thursday, January 23, 2014



The power of prayer

Not to long ago; my husband and I gave birth to a little boy who would move to heaven only 74 min after birth. As much as you can prepare your heart to shatter there is no logical practical solution in escaping the shock waves that rattle you to the core.
I was consumed with grief and I am still grieving, but the purpose of this blog is to share with you a secret I have found in the power of prayer.

Before the loss of our son, I had somewhere in my heart had decided that we had faced enough hardships in this life and our turn was over. As temping as these thoughts are they are simply no true. I mean after growing up in cult, and abused by my father and braking free from their control, I really felt then that was enough. But, when you loss a child it changes you and something moves into your heart in a way and grows like ivy and it chokes the life out of you. This is FEAR. Three months after my son passed away I placed myself in a job. I needed to keep busy very busy. The depression that comes when your child dies is overwhelming to put it lightly. And as long as I could keep busy then I was not able to be drowned in the assault of wave after wave of the kind of depression that causes you to plead for death.

Whenever I stop; and by stopping I mean putting my phone down turning off the computer, no book reading to keep knowledge pouring in. Just stopping and being my heart fills with fear and it feels as though an ocean of grief will wash over me and I start to have panic attacks. Tonight was just such a night. My husband and I trying desperately to fight for this hard place in our marriage decided that we would have time together and turn off and put away all distracting things. As we lay next to each-other my heart began to pound, and fear was right there to great me like an abusive companion and I cowered like a beaten down victim  and I began to cry. After my husband asses the situation and try to understand the logic of it all and to make some sort of sense he came to the conclusion that this was a God invitation of perfect proportion. And without hesitation he invited Jesus into our bed and into our thoughts. He came against the spirit of fear with the power of Jesus Christ and blessed our marriage. It was as if fear had been slapped and as quick as it had come over me it had retreated and I could breath again.

This isn't the first time Jesus has been invited into our bed and it will not be the last time. I just wanted you all to know that though I am week, and at times feel powerless over death I must cling to the truth that death has been defeated and the one who defeated it LOVES me. I just need to call out his name. Jesus

Colossians 3:15 Let the peace of God rule in your hearts

Thursday, July 11, 2013

One Tear at a Time

One Tear at a Time

       Who can hold each tear or tell from the place that it falls from. There is nothing like letting your child go to heaven and not having a mother that wants to hold you through this process, or at least eachother. I am struggling with trying not to add this hurt that I am experiancing to the baggage of our relationship. Two phone converstaions in 7 months and each lasting maybe five min. 

I have found myself as I was when I was younger desparately wanting to be loved by my family and profoundly rejected. I am frusterated with my self because I desire that no matter how much I try to kill that desire. 

Tuesday, June 4, 2013

A Pharisee To


A Pharisee To


     Guilty by omission. Thats right I am a pharisee to. Although if you'd ask me just six months ago I would have been highly offended. This is what has made me realize that just how I fell into the pharisee trap. 

God in his mighty strength snatched me from a pit of death, planted me on sold free ground cleaned me off and began to heal me. I fell in love and my zeal for Him grew and grew. I was getting to know Jesus and his heart for me. After a while I realized that the crowd of believers that was experiancing this same zeal was smaller then the crowd that wasn't. I began to ask why they were not excited like me. How could they not. I mean did they not fall in love too. 

Then as God was willing to work with this mess called me. I began to understand and become skilled in the way of ministry. I then realized that not all leaders had zeal either and my heart started to form opinions and draw conclusions and I studied people and their walk with God. I became fearful that I would loose my zeal and therefore I became diligent in my seeking of God. The more I saught God the more I let others know that if they wanted a closer relationship with God they to must seek him, because it was working for me. 

My heart is good and I have to say that I had no idea that I was a pharisee in training. Isn't this how satan works though. You are filled with zeal for the Lord and then satan takes your gaze away from God for a split second and you realize that what you are seeing and hearing how others experiance Christ is a far cry from what you experiance. It is a deadly trap an addictive one. 

Countless times I have asked why are they leading they don't even get it, or this is a sad time the church is a mess. In my heart I have said much more. I pray that I am not the lone pharisee. 

Yet this problem begs for a deeper answer. How do you loose the joy of your salvation? How do we as leaders encourage others to lay hold of their zeal for God with out coming across as having it figuared out? How do you walk in humility, grace and understanding sometimes for years with one person or several while being passionate, determined, feirce, and bold? Those seem so opposite of eachother. I am incapeable of not sinning. 

Tuesday, May 28, 2013

Beautiful Release



Beautiful Release

When I am faced with any change in my life that reqires me to face uncertainty I grapple with fear. Tremendous fear. I had made fear my advisor in life. Currently we are facing a life changing circumstance. We are currently planning the celebration of life service for our unborn son. This is much like an Abraham journey. I have viewed letting go of something loved as a valley experiance, much like a funeral of the heart. And it has felt very much like that. Choosing to remain pregnant till God chooses to recieve our gift I aliken to the walk Abraham made up the mountian with his son Issac.

The other day pre labor contractions started and I was fludded with fear. Not of  the death of our son, but all of the unknowns and the pain. My loving husband lay next to me as I wept and frustrated with his unablity to take this from me, he washed my broken spirit with the word. Suddenly the question came to my mind. why are some healed and others not, why do we pray and pray and press into the father and still recieve that what we do not want. I am possitive that Abraham wrestled with the same questions as he packed his bags and headed for the mountain top. Then God gently spoken to my clinging to fear heart. Do you believe really that I am good? And, in that moment being completely honest I was having my doubts. Sometime the losses feel greater then the rewards. It was as if a old veil was being removed from my eyes. If I believed He was good and his desire for me is good then my fear is really a lack of belief in him. If I believed he was good then my journey up the mountain would be a relief my obediance to His desire to have our son to Him self would be my greatest pleasure. What I was veiwing as a valley experiance would be quite beautiful, quite holy.

This is devine holiness. And, this has changed the way I pray as I walk this mountain. I pray that my mind is kept pure, that I do not stumble, that I am able to rejoice on my way, singing new songs. Songs of His generostity, goodness, and His faithfulness. I want to celebrate the unknown and misunderstood mystries of God and His marvolious heart for us.
Earlier in this journey I was grieving hard and asked a dear friend how do I find joy in the midst of my suffering, how do I suffer well. Purhaps this is what Paul was talking about. Joy in suffering is when we let go of it's sting.

So I let of my life line called fear and reclined in the lap of God and swang in peace from this mountain top. From here the veiw is stunning, and worth its suffering. It is a beautiful release!

Wednesday, May 22, 2013

Confessions of a grieving mother



Confessions of a grieving mother


I found my self today grappling with the fact that God gave his son for me and I am having a hard time giving my son back. The way He asked me was loving, enduring and clearly the desire of His heart. But, why am I unable to give this child of my to God who loves me more than I can comprehend, who's plans are good for me and His will being so soverign and generious. The last thing I ever want to do is grapple with God over this one. In my heart I want to freely give as he ask, and yet I am selfish, angry at times and jealous even. I find myself questioning things I swore I never would.

If only this was the only confession. I have become critical even judgmental. I splatter my grief like a toxic paint on what seems to be everyone around me. What I complain about is not even the fact that I will be laying my son to rest when he is born. It's about everything else under the sun. My pet peaves are on a hightened sense of irritation and I am itching to voice my opion. When what is that anyway. Being right is all that is, being right, and even then most times its not worth it.

Who am I to complain? Yet, at this moment I am not as thankful as I long to be. Im in a pit of pain, grief, discontent, and even worse bitterness. I know its a mistake to look at the grass on the other side of the fence, yet at times the side I am on is some times unbearable. What I don't want is to look back at this time and wish I worshiped more, was more thankful, and offered more grace because the grace offered to me in this time of my life is truely a gift in it's self.

Just some confessions of a grieving mother.

Tuesday, May 21, 2013

So much life




So Much Life

Its been far to long sense my last post, but a recommendation from my bereavement nurse that I began to write again. 

I am mid way through my 27th week of pregnancy with our beautiful son Peter Roman and we are planning his going away celebration of life. On one aspect I am blessed that I have the oppertunity to put thought into what we are and will be experiancing when we lay our son down. Yet I am so torn. I do not know how to grieve. I feel a great sense of responsibility in grieving with hope for those who are watching and because I love Jesus. There are so many women who have gone through this and yet I feel as though I am blazing a new painful trail.

I am loved, supported and encouraged by hundrends of beautiful people and yet I feel utterly alone. Like my world has stopped but everyone else is in movement. I don't know how to carry my son, feel his movements and stay emotionally and spiritually level. I hate being the center of tragitiy and that there are few times in my life where there has not been tragitiy on some level.

This is my 10th pregnancy and I have two living children, and I wish that was all the tragitiy but far from it. I beg to go home, I beg God to take me home because I am utterly broken and the older I get the harder it is to remain vonrable and the less I trust. I don't want to be that person but it feels so out of my control. I feel ship wrecked and fear I have lost who I am.