Why Autism Friendship is a Thing of Beauty

        There is beauty in friendships.  Friendships of all kinds, but there is a unique beauty in friendships with people on the Autism Spectrum.  The Doctor's best friend has Autism.  (For this post, I'll call him "the Friend," for his and his family's privacy.)

        Now, there are a few things you should know about my family and me before I go any further:

        1.  None of my children are on the spectrum.  They are all

        neuro-typical.  This is not a point of pride, just a statement of

        fact.

        2.  I am not advocating for people with Autism.  I am woefully

        unqualified to do this.  Plus, I find it awkward when people try

        to advocate for "other" groups.  At best it comes across as

        patronizing, at worst, it comes across as offensive.  (You know,

        the "Be kind to the poor [fill in this blank with a random group]

        people.  You might be the only friend they have!"  Makes me

        want to hurt someone.)

        3.  I am also not advocating for parents of children with Autism. 

        They are the best advocates I know, and no one has asked me

        to advocate for them.  It, quite honestly, is not my place.

        4.  I AM advocating for my own children.  After all, they're the

        children I love best in the world, and the ones that I advocate

        for most naturally!

        With all that in mind, I want to give you the reasons that I am so thankful that the Doctor has a dear friend with Autism:

1.     Acceptance.  What could be better than someone who accepts you for who you are, without manipulating you into feeling like you need to change to be loved?  Well, that's what the Doctor has found in the Friend.  He has NOT ONCE ever made her feel like she's "less worthy" of his friendship.  He has never manipulated her into doing something she doesn't want to do.

2.     Another mom loves my child.  Along with #1, the Friend's mom LOVES my child.  (Well, all three of my children.)  She is in "the Doctor's corner" so to speak.  Take a moment to let it sink in how HUGE that is.  It's hard to find that within families, let alone friends.

3.     Total family acceptance.  The Friend not only cares for the Doctor.  He has accepted all three girls totally.  Fidget is often the recipient of his care.  I'll give you a quick story to summarize what this looks like.  The Friend's mom and I took all our kids to a movie one time.  Fidget got upset about half-way through, and the Friend loaned her his brand-new stuffed animal to comfort her.  He didn't make a big deal out of it, he just saw her crying and did what he could to make it better.

4.     Understanding and empathy.  This is another "story" one, because the Friend's actions explain it best.  One Sunday after church, the Doctor was upset because her paper tore.  So, he hunted down a new piece of paper for her.  No fuss, no big deal made, just saw a hurting friend and did what he could to fix it.

5.     He lends her his "brave."  The Doctor had always been cautious, often to the point of fearful.  (She is the oldest after all!)  She wants to know it's all "safe."  But the Friend isn't concerned as much about "safety."  (Sensory Processing Disorder and Autism often go hand-in-hand, and the Friend is no exception.)  He is very physical, and while he has NOT ONE TIME ever made the Doctor feel like a scaredy cat for not following, he has encouraged her to test her limits.  As a result, she is far more confident in her own skin, and in the world around her.  He has helped her overcome her fear simply by taking her along if she's willing, but being perfectly content to do things alone if she isn't.  How many friendships can make that claim?  Encouragement without manipulation.  It's a beautiful thing.

6.     This one is completely selfish -- drama-free friendship for me.  The Friend's mom and I have become close.  I don't have to feel bad when last-minute plans fall through, because she has learned an amazing amount of flexibility.  We rarely make "hard and fast" plans, because we have ten kids between us!  But if I need something, she's the first on my call list.  She can keep a confidence like no one else.  And she loves my kids.  If something comes up, she's not going to be "sharing" with 354 of her best friends on FB.  If I have to cancel, I can be honest, and disappointed, without worry that she'll think I don't care about my kids, or her, or whatever else.  She understands.  What a gift!

7.     The beauty of "messy life" lived honestly together.  Life in this fallen world is messy.  Always.  All too often, our "friendships" are based only on the best, most polished bits of us.  This breaks down quickly with a "special needs" family.  The beauty of this for me is this -- I don't feel like I need to keep up the "spit-shined" image, either.  When I am tired, or weepy, or struggling, I have a true friend who will listen, and pray for me.  And still keep caring.

        OK, I think this is long enough.  But I think it's time that NT parents advocate for our OWN children by fostering friendships with children on the spectrum.  Not because our children "can learn a lot" from the "patience" needed, nor because "those children NEED our children to befriend them."  (Seriously, I've seen that attitude several times, and it makes me SICK!)  Rather because, these friendships are an absolute gift, a treasure, rare and beautiful for the NT kids.  And their mamas.

Doing it all

          "How do you do it all?!"

           I hear this question most of the time when I tell someone I homeschool.  Rarely do I hear the "socialization" question, and NEVER when my girls are with me.  If you know my girls, you know socializing isn't an issue.  And it only takes about ten seconds to realize this.

          So I get that question up top.  Normally, I smile, and say, "I don't know how moms get their kids out the door on time for school."  In other words, I deflect.

          The truth is, I don't do it all.  I don't even try to do it all.  And quite honestly, I think it's time to stop asking each other that question.

          The implication is that, somehow, I am SUPPOSED to do it all.  But I'm not.  I can't.  I am one woman with three children who are where I am all day, every day.  Most days, that's home.  But they go with me to the store, the library, even some doctor visits.  To have blood drawn, even (and recently).

          The truth is, my house is most often a mess.  The "guest room" is unrecognizable at the moment, mostly because it has become storage.  My sewing room is a disaster, with boxes all over the floor, and projects covering the table.  I would give my left arm for someone to come in once a week, or even once every-other-week to clean for me.  I'm not a great housekeeper even when school is on break.

          I don't grow my own wheat, or my own cattle.  I am hopeless with plants.  My oldest now has a greenhouse.  I'm hoping as long as I stay clear, the plants will have a chance to survive.

          If I make my own bread, it is most likely done, at least partially, in a bread machine.  With store-bought, bleached flour.

          Snacks are fruit.  Whole.  Not arranged into pretty faces, or skeletons with cut up bell peppers.  And no dipping sauces, either.

          My clothes, and those of my husband and children, come from the store.  (With few exceptions.  I ADORE sewing, just don't have time for it.)

          I also don't work outside the home.  Getting my children out the door is a challenge, what with all the lost shoes and whatnot.

          Lunch is usually one of two options -- peanut butter sandwiches or vegetable soup.  Occasionally there's nachos, but not often.

          I do cook most evenings.  But there's always Costco pizza and Taco Bell on the Engineer's way home from work.  And I take advantage of that more often than I "should."

          I don't lapbook (I know, you've just revoked my homeschool mother card).  I don't scrapbook.  The pictures are almost exclusively on the computer still.

          I do, however, have three children with lively imaginations, who know how to talk to adults, how to be gentle with smaller children, and how to approach an unfamiliar dog.  The girls are inquisitive, boundlessly curious about everything in their world.  They know themselves and their strengths.  They are proud of their quirks, of who God has created them to be.

          I have a husband who is, without a doubt, doing the job he was created for.  And he's good at it.

          I know I am doing the right thing for my family and myself.  But I am not doing it all.  I can't.  I won't even try.  And I won't ask you "How do you do it all?"  Because chances are, you aren't.  You can't.  And you should probably stop trying to.

          Let's give each other some grace.  Grace to not look exactly like one another, grace to not be able to do it all.  Grace to not have it all together.  Grace to let our own personalities shine.

          Please, let's stop asking, "How do you do it all?"  It just isn't possible.  And the collective guilt is killing us.

Wednesday is the New Monday

I'm sure I've posted on this before, but it's my blog (and no one reads it, anyway), so I'm going to write about this again...

Around our house, Mondays and Tuesdays are usually pretty good.  Wednesday is the day that would qualify as "typical Monday."  And I dread Wednesday starting on Thursday Wednesday bedtime.

This has to change.  I don't know how, though.  I don't have a good answer in this case.  I know I have to change it, but I'm at a loss.

Today's been pretty typical for a Wednesday around here.  It started off with the Doctor and Fidget arguing over chair placement.  And it's pretty much been downhill since.

I'll have to think on this, come up with a plan before next Wednesday, because I've let it go on too long.  And it's pretty awful servanthood on my part.

So, there's my update for today.

When I am Forgotten... But Not Really

Today I heard good news from a friend about mutual acquaintance.  And I was happy for her.  And sad for myself.  And more than a little envious.

Oh, I don't want to take her blessing away.  I just want a similar blessing for myself.  Desperately.  I have prayed for YEARS for a miracle that would allow this blessing in my family's life.  I have cried, pleaded, begged for this same blessing from God for such a long time.

And still I wait.  So often, I feel forgotten.  So often, I feel as though there is no plan, no miracle for me.  I struggle.  I cry.  I sob and beg.  And still, nothing.  Silence.  No miracle, no promise, no hope of a miracle.

Sometimes, it's easy.  Sometimes, I can let life just go on as it is.  Sometimes, I get derailed by the wonderful blessings of others.  And it seems unfair.

Because God does not promise us health, or wealth, or happiness, or even our wants.  He promises that all will work together for good for those who love Him, who are called according to His purpose.  But that good may very well await in eternity, not now or here.

Sometimes, all I can cling to, all I can cry is an echo of the apostles, "To whom shall I go?  You have the words of eternal life."  Where else can I go?  I'll admit, if there truly was an easier way, I'm sure I'd at the very least be tempted to take it.  Some days, I so badly want to throw in the towel.

But I'm reminded that this isn't about me.  It's not about what's in it for me.

"Q: What is the chief end of man?
A: Man's chief end is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever."  (Westminster Shorter Catechism.)

That's what it's about.  Glorifying Him.  Sometimes -- OK, often -- I cannot see how He will be glorified in the circumstances, how His glory will shine through my situation.  I cannot see the good that He's working.  But then I look again -- it's my job to glorify Him through all of this.

Even when I feel forgotten.

Even when it seems unfair.

Even when what I long for, what I cry out about is a good thing, a blessing only He can provide.

Even when it seems that there is no plan.

Even when I cannot see the next step.

Even when I cry, beg, plead, and Heaven is silent.

I must -- I must -- glorify Him.  After all, He has the words of eternal life.  He's the only one who does.

"The LORD gave, and the LORD has taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD." (Job 1:21b).

Sunday - Thursday (Days 5-9)

I'm obviously several days behind.

I'm trying.  I really am.

This morning, I was having a moment of self-pity.  It doesn't really matter why.  All that matters is I was.  Normally, I would let it go on for a while, let it ruin the rest of my day.

But this morning, I remembered the challenge.  I remembered what I was doing.  As a result, I handled what needed to be done, and my day has been much better than it would normally have been.

I can't say that my attitude improved immediately, but it did improve.  I am working, and I believe God is working in me.

I have not been great at asking my husband what I can do to make his life better.  Some days, I remember, but other days I do not.

I have been feeling conviction that I need to waste less time, to spend more time taking care of the things I need to take care of.  So, I am planning (for the rest of Lent, at least), to stay off the computer except when the girls are "down."  This happens twice -- once for quiet period after lunch, and then at night when they're in bed.  No one "needs" me during that time.  And I usually use quiet period as down time anyway each day.  I've become too dependent on the computer to fill up my days, and I have become lazy in housekeeping, parenting, and homeschooling.  This is not a good way to live.  It isn't being a good servant.  So, at least for Lent, I am minimizing my computer time in order to maximize my service.

It's been good for me to do this.  Kind of a "reset" on some of my bad habits.

Saturday (Day 4)

OK, today's the fourth day, and I'll admit it's difficult, this giving up myself.

Because it isn't just about the outside.  It's the heart.  It's the WHY of it.  I can't just DO the right thing.  I have to have the right HEART the whole time.  And it's hard enough to do the motions, to get them right.  Adding a whole layer of heart attitude is an amazingly difficult thing.  And I am failing miserably.

Only, now I am more aware of it.  Now I am truly TRYING to do better, do actually BE better.  Because emptying myself of myself is important, and heart-wrenching, and raises all kinds of "I don't wanna!"  Perversely, I want to hang on to my "right" to be irritated at times.  I know it's sin nature.

I'm beginning to understand why the Bible says that the unregenerate, the lost, are incapable of not sinning, of choosing not to sin.  The bar is not our actions, but our heart, our attitudes, the WHY of it all.  And we, on our own, are incapable of choosing well, of laying down our SELF and our rights.

The funny thing is that I have asked the Engineer what I can do "today" to make his life better or easier.  For the past three days, he hasn't had an answer.

Here's my big failing -- I know crumbs and such on the floor bothers him.  I know I should be sweeping, or vacuuming, or mopping (or some combination of the three) daily.  So I am going to work on that.  This week, I plan to sweep, vacuum, and/or mop each day.

I also plan to work on being more HERE with the girls.  I tend to be very focused on getting stuff done, on working, and I tend to be more quiet.  I love my girls dearly, I just don't always do a good job communicating that.  So I plan to work on that, too.

Four days in, and already a course correction.  Maybe one day, I'll have it all together.  But somehow, I doubt it.

Thursday and Friday (Days 2 and 3)

See, I'm already behind in my reporting!

Yesterday was not the best.  I did what I needed, but not with the best of heart attitudes.  Giving up myself for Lent is much easier said than done.  One of those, "it's a good idea in theory" but the reality is much harder.

So, I made tea.  Which so shouldn't be a "thing."  But sadly, it is.  It's a detail, and I don't do details well.  The Engineer likes tea.  (I guess, given where I live, I should say sweet iced tea.)  Given all his dietary issues, tea with real sugar is one of the few things he can drink other than water and milk.  It's also a source of calories.  Which is another thing that he struggles with, getting enough calories.  So I make tea.  Only I'm not very consistent.

Also, I took the girls to get something Elizabeth needed for a blood model for her science.  But this time, not because I was being a servant, but because I decided I could handle the trip to the store.  There was nothing serving about what I did.  And that's the heart of the problem -- how my heart and attitude are.  *sigh*

Then there's today.  Today, a good friend of mine took the Doctor and the Doctor's best friend (who is also my friend's son) out for the day.  Just the four of us.  Which was amazing, and fun and full of energy!  I love these two kiddos, and am so very glad that they are friends.  The Doctor is definitely a much happier girl because of knowing this boy.  He is a blessing to her, and really, to our whole family.

So, not much of a servant going on here.  It was so very enjoyable, and really, easy on me.  Only having one of the three, and having such a good friend with me was truly a blessing to my heart.

Both days started with reading my passage for Lent.  I still don't fully even understand this passage, even though I've read it and heard it preached on in my adult life.  I hope, by spending forty-some consecutive days looking at, reading, thinking on, and acting on, the same passage, maybe it will sink in.  Maybe it will make a real difference.  Maybe I can finally get out of the way enough for God to get through to me.

So, anyone reading this, pray for me.  Please.  Please pray that I will do what I need to do, that I will serve well this season.  Pray that I will truly be a servant of God.

Ash Wednesday (Day 1)

So, today marks the first day of Lent.

The passage I am focusing on for this time is Philippians 2:1-11.  I had been focusing on Philippians, and then Sunday one of the elders preached from Philippians 2.  The sermon fit with most of what I had been mulling over, and it just all seemed to fit.

So, what idol am I giving up for Lent?  Basically, the idol of "me."  I am going to strive to serve this season.  To serve with excellence.

First of all, I am planning to ask the Engineer what I can do each day to make his day/life better.  Then do it.

Second, I plan to refocus on the girls.  Mostly in relation to school.  I am making some changes in how I do school with the girls, changing science around to make it more accessible to the Cowgirl, while letting the Doctor continue on with her interests.  I already started the older two on Khan Academy for math, and I must say that so far, we love it.  Two weeks in, and the Doctor has done 60% of her grade level; the Cowgirl has done 40%.

Service must begin at home, so this is where I will start.  I will pray for chances to serve, and then do what is in front of me.  One day, one moment, at a time.

So, how did today go?  Well, honestly not too well.  I did spend time in Bible reading and prayer, and did some serving the Engineer.  I forgot to ask my question.  And then forgot to get supper into the crock-pot, so I asked him to bring home supper.  I was short with the girls, and rather distracted today.  Overall, I was not a good servant.

Fortunately, tomorrow is another day, and God's mercies are new every morning.

That is all for now.  I plan to write again tomorrow.

Idols in my Life, and Lent

When I was little, I thought about idols as those gold, bronze, or wooden statues that frequently tripped up the Israelites.  Naturally, I was confused to find New Testament injunctions against Christians worshiping idols.

As a teenager, my understanding was a bit broader.  Mostly, money was emphasized.  Lots of "you can't serve two masters," and the oft-misquoted "money is the root of all evil."  (The actual quote begins "the LOVE of money...")  And not much else.

Here's the truth, though.  Anything can be an idol.  Anything.  Growing up mostly in the church, I am pretty good at "doing the right thing" at least outwardly.  And of course I know all about not touching "evil" things.

But God wants more than outward compliance.  He wants a changed heart.  He doesn't want us to simply check off the "right" things.  He wants joyful obedience from love and thankfulness.  Kinda raises the bar, huh?

What does this have to do with idols?  Well, it's easy to make doing the "right" thing, having the right appearance, the right schedule, not doing evil (even fleeing from it) the focus.  And that becomes an idol.

I'm in a small book study group, and we're going through a book entitled Peacemaking Women by Tara Klena Barthel and Judy Dabler.  One of the chapters is on idols.

I had always thought I was OK on this front.  Boy, was I wrong.  The authors urged us to go through a series of questions to determine what had taken God's place in my life.  Two of the questions really hit me hard, convicted me, really.  "I would be happy if only ________________________" and "Don't ask me to give up _______________________."

Two big things came immediately to mind, and more and more have come up as I have thought these things through.  Basically, anything that my happiness hinges on, anything I would not be willing to give up, anything that gets in my way of joyful, thankful obedience is an idol.  Ouch.

So, I have a challenge.  What if, during Lent, instead of giving up something meaningless (like meat of Fridays), we gave up an idol?

How?  Well, whatever the idol, when we find ourselves focusing, obsessing, working on that idol, what if we stopped, prayed instead.  What if, for that period of time, we stopped actively seeking our idols and sought God instead.

What does this look like?  It would be different for each of us.  I am praying about what to do.  I think I have an idea for me, and I may share it tomorrow or Wednesday.  Lent begins on Wednesday, so I have a short time to make a rather large decision.

A few quick examples:
If your idol is "the perfect body," give up exercise for those few weeks.  Spend that time in prayer.  Put your scales away.  When anxiety creeps in, PRAY.  Make God your focus, not your body.

If dieting is your idol, stop for Lent.  Just lent.  You can readjust your eating afterwards.  Spend that time in prayer instead of hyper-focused on every bite of food you eat, focus on God.

If another baby (or a first baby) is your idol, give it over to God.  Stop trying so hard for just a few weeks.  Every time you find yourself obsessing over nurseries on Pinterest, stop, pray instead.  Maybe stay off Pinterest for Lent.

All of those things are "good" things -- taking care of your body, eating right, and having children.  They're all good, right things.  Here's the problem I have found.  As church women, we often find ourselves turning "good" things into "acceptable idols."  Because the appearance is good, then it must be fine, right?  But the problem is -- anything can be an idol.  Homeschooling, modesty, submission, being gentle and quiet.  Anything that we focus on rather than God.

Why not give up one big idol for Lent?  You may find you don't need it after all.  I have found freedom as I have released two biggies to God in the last couple of months.  Do I still find myself thinking about these things, do I still pray that God would allow them to happen?  Yes.  But they are no longer obsessions.  They no longer have the power over my thinking.  I no longer wonder if God loves me because He hasn't allowed ________________ and ____________________ happen.

In the upcoming days, I will be sharing my plan.  But I must be careful not to turn this "turning away from an idol" into an idol itself.  If I do this, it will only be by the power of God in me.  It will only be by the Holy Spirit working that I will be successful in turning away from an idol, not making a new one of this project, and truly worshiping God.

Will you join me?  If you're reading this, will you join me?  The Lent season is only a few weeks long.  Will you trust God to show you your idol and to work in you to change that?

I plan to post daily during this time (at least Monday through Friday).  I may fail, but I hope that even if my record isn't perfect, that there will be lifelong changes, lifelong lessons to learn during this time.

10,000 Hours

I've been hearing and reading an interesting tidbit of information.  Apparently, it takes 10,000 hours of practice to become world-class at something, anything.

That got me to thinking... 10,000 hours...  at 10 hours per day, that's about two and three-quarter years.  At the other extreme, one hour a day, a bit under twenty-seven and a half.

I guess here's the thing.  I'm going to be doing something for those 10,000 hours, right?  What will be my world-class skill?  Rocking-chair jockey?  Homeschool mom?  Wife?  Loving individual?  Servant?

I would imagine that 10,000 hours needs to be deliberate, a choice.  One that includes learning new skills, acquiring a deepening knowledge and understanding of the skill at hand.

I guess it's mostly a wake-up call.  Assuming no ill health, and no insomnia, I'll have been awake for 10,000 hours by (roughly) 1 November 2016.

What will I do with those 10,000 waking hours?  What goals, dreams, skills will I work on?  Where -- and who -- will I be 10,000 waking hours from now?

OK, enough philosophizing for now.  But it is an interesting thought to ponder, isn't it?

Encouragement

Dear Fellow Moms --
I see you in Target, in Wal-Mart, at the library, in the grocery store.  I see your online comments and blog posts.  You have a small family, a big family.  You breastfed, bottle-fed, or some combination.  You vaccinate, or don't.  You work outside the home, or are a full-time homemaker.  You homeschool, public school, private school your kids.

Your decisions are different than mine, but made for the same reason -- you are doing what you believe best for your family and children.  You are struggling with your choices, worrying that you are going to permanently ruin these amazing short people that God has entrusted to you for a time.

You sometimes cry yourself to sleep at night, worrying that one of the loud critical voices in the mommy wars will be correct, and you will wake up one morning and your children will hate you.

You are tired, tired of having the same conversation every single day.  Listening to the same fighting at the breakfast table.  Of teaching the same lesson for what seems to be the 437th time this school year.

Mostly, though, you are tired of having to defend yourself against attacks that come from people who do not know what went into the decisions your made, the research, prayers, tears, and finally surrender.  The faith that you cling to that God is ultimately in control, and that your decisions will honor Him for that reason.

I see you.  My decisions may be different than yours.  The particulars of my life are certainly different than yours.  But here's the bottom line -- God gave you those children to rear.  Not me.  Not your neighbor, not your cousin, not the friend-of-a-friend on Facebook who decided to "correct your thinking" on some decision or other of yours.  Despite the fact that she's never even met you.

I see you, and more important, God sees you.  He sees the struggle you have daily to serve this beautiful family, to be a servant as He has called you.  He sees your heart for them, which stems from your heart for Him.  And it is to Him you will ultimately answer, not to anyone else.

So, let's make a pact, you and I.  You go on living for your audience of One, and I will do the same, and I will encourage you along the way as best I can.  Maybe a smile.  Maybe picking up that pacifier that your little one dropped for the 963,082 time this shopping trip.  Maybe by educating my children about the differences of other children.  Maybe by crying in my car as my heart breaks for you in your struggles.  And you do the same.  I'll give you the benefit of the doubt, assume that you truly do have your children's best interest at heart, that you are truly competent to raise these small ones entrusted to your care by their Creator.  And you do the same for me.

Let's see each other -- truly see each other, and look past the superficial differences and to the heart of each other.  Let's stop the mommy wars, as much as we are able.  Let's be at peace with each other, in so far as it is up to us.  I'll trust you, encourage you, and cry for you at times, and you do the same for me, OK?

Let's fight this good fight together, teach our children to see people, not issues.  After all, if God had wanted sameness, He could easily have made us that way.  It seems to me that He likes the nuance, the beauty of the differences in His children.