His Hands

I read this scripture to the kiddos this morning before they left for school:

"The Lord is my chosen portion and my cup; you hold my lot." Psalm 16:5

In an attempt to explain the second part, I said that this meant that God holds their day in His hands. Nothing would happen today that surprised Him. He knows exactly where they are at all times. And if they trusted in Jesus, some day, they would go to heaven forever! He holds our days and our future!

When the kids were outside waiting for the bus, Bethany looked up at the sky and said, "I don't see God's hands." And then she laughed. I think she was attempting humor. What I'm most excited about is the fact that she remembered what I was trying to explain and was thinking about the fact that her day is indeed in God's hands.

Abba Father...thank you.

This morning was a tough one at the Zimm's for many reasons. For the most part, though, it was a tired mama trying to deal with two special needs girls. If one wasn't fussing, the other one was. It can be so constant. I found myself on the familiar thinking path of, "I can't do this, this is too hard." When those thoughts start coming down the track of my thinking patterns, I know that I have more work to do. I need to replace those thoughts with, "God, help me. Thank you for these girls and all the challenges. Help me to find joy in the battle." What usually happens is, I just get out the first three words. Today, it didn't even get that far. I kicked a few things around, sputtered a few words that an elder's wife shouldn't say and entertained the negative thinking tracks. I hadn't even gotten to the help part when God surprised me.

I needed to call Bethany's classroom teacher about something and she surprised me with a positive story about our girl. Yesterday, they went to their first pep fest. The teacher sat at the edge right by the door, with Bethany, unsure of how she would react to the big kids and the noise. Our girl, the one who couldn't even walk on wood floors, stayed. She not only stayed, she cheered when someone made a basket, she stomped her feet along with the rest of the kids as they chanted, and she not only stayed, she laughed and smiled and participated just like everyone else.

This might seem like an insignificant feat, but for our girl with her sensory issues, this was no small miracle. And then the teacher went on to say how pleased she has been with Bethany all year. She has interacted with 27 other kids in a classroom and learned the routine and she's happy every day. She walks into the classroom with a smile on her face. Even on the days that she's left screaming and crying from home.

Why write all this down? To remind myself that even when my first reaction isn't a good one and I don't cry out to God for help, He's still there. He reaches out and gently reminds me of how much he loves me, how much he loves Bethany, and reminds me that He's here. She's making progress. Yes..it's hard and yes, I have to fight the stinking thinking patterns every day. But even in the days that I don't fight well, He's still working and loving all of us. Amazing.

Snakes...

Bethany is now using the bathroom all by herself, the flush, the handwashing, all of it. This is a big deal of independence in our home. At school, they taught her to rub the palms of her hands together as she washes them under water and to prompt her, they say, "Make a snake." I thought that was so clever. So the other day, as she was washing her hands, she wasn't rubbing them together. So, I said, "Make a snake!"

In her low voice she said matter of factly, "It doesn't work."

My literal baby...cracked me up.

Blog, Schmog.....

Ever feel like you've got so much that you want to write about that you just freeze up? That's me.

I'll choose one thing......

Today, after wrestling my two toddlers to Target in the cold, an emergency trip to the bathroom in the middle of our shopping...we finally get through the check out..ready to go. Can't find Bethany's hat. I spent way too much money on her hat because of her sensory issues. She picked one out that had "fuzzy balls" on it. We walked all the way to the customer service desk..they were crabby..no, they didn't have the hat. I had my two in tow, (that's almost poetic), and was headed back into Target to retrace all of our steps (yes, it was noon...lunch time....) and what do I hear?

An elderly lady, bundled up from the cold, waving a hat in the air, "Hat! Is this anybody's hat?" I never thought I'd be so happy to see puffy balls being waved in the air! I ran up to her, gave her a hug and told her she was my special angel today. She said she found it in the parking lot, and was going to walk it to the service desk. She then proceeded to talk to my girls and tell me that she's a great grandma and just made a bunch of similar hats for all her grandchildren.

Thank you, thank you, dear angel in Target. Thank you for making an extra trip, in the cold, for a stranger.

Sometimes it's the "little things" that are encouraging.

Gonzo sings at my house..all.the.time.

Do you remember Gonzo from the Muppet Show? He would sing in this gravely type voice. Add a touch of "screechy" and you have Bethany's happy sounds. She's home full time this week, no special classes. She goes from screechy sing-song type noises to a half yell, half scream when she's frustrated. She will often go back and forth very quickly from one mood to the next. She's a loud child. And, I crave quiet.

She is also enjoying the art of teasing. So, when her Gonzo voice gets out of hand, I'll ask her to sing in a nice voice. She will look at me, do it again, give me the eyes and smile, "Nice voice". Or she'll yell it, depending on what her mood is. But, I think she knows it bugs me.

In my quest to live intentionally..I've been asking God to help me to have patience and love beyond my own ability. I've asked him to help me see His face when I look into hers. She was, after all, God's idea. I've been telling myself when I hear the Gonzo voice, she's happy..let it go.

Today, she and Gonzo were in full swing. Instead of trying to quiet her down, I looked her in the eyes, and really listened to what she was screeching..I mean singing. It was from the "Doughnut Man" video. It went something like this....

Oh, the love of Jesus.
Oh, the love of Jesus.
Oh, the love of Jesus.
That washes white as snow.

Thank you, Jesus for the gentle reminder, right in the middle of my battle. Your love is enough. Your love washes my impatient sinful heart. Thank you.

Thanksgiving 2007...

Today my sweet Bethany used the pronoun "I" in a sentence for the first time. She is delayed in language and speaking of herself is a new concept. I asked her to go potty and she said, "Maaaaaoooummmmmm......I already did that." Hands in the air for emphasis. The cool part, Caleb was there to see it. We both looked at each other in astonishment.

Second milestone of the day: She tucked Faith (our 2 year old) into her big bed and I heard these words as she closed the door, "Goodnight, Honey." Pretend play....it's coming.

Since we heard about the big "D" in March, (diagnosis of autism), I've lamented to God about our little girl and wondered, prayed, petitioned for things like, will she ever play? Will she get go to college, will she get a job, get married, have children? I still don't know the answers to all of those questions. But for now, I am so thankful and celebrate our two milestones today.

More shopping please....

Today I took my big three and a half year old, Bethany girl shopping. Bethany also happens to have autism. This is the first time that we've ventured out on our own for clothes. You see, a few months ago, she would've freaked just walking into a new store. It could be the black mat, the tiled floors, the high ceilings, the lights...anything. She would cry, scream, want to be picked up, hide her head and throw a huge tantrum. She tried on jeans in a fitting room. That NEVER would've happened before. While walking on a sidewalk that had small squares stamped onto it, she started to tense up and I could see her fighting for control. "What's that, Mama?" "It's just a sidewalk with squares." She tightly gripped my hand, but calmly said, "Oh, okay."

When in the store, we usually get lots of attention. A white mama and a beautiful chocolate girl. Many people said today, "What's your name?" or "How old are you?". Nothing. My girl is looking around, smiling, unable to process what that means. So, I answer for her. These are the next things we're going to work on. It will come, I just know it.

When we got into the car, I asked her if she had fun. Her reply, "More shopping, please."

Thank you, Jesus.