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Thursdays are for Thankfulness, Autism Spectrum Style!

7/25/2012

As promised yesterday, the gratitude list continues, autism spectrum style!
I'm grateful for.....

7928. -the sweet juiciness of a mouthful of ripe wild blackberries and raspberries. It isn't necessary to have a whole bucketful of berries or a batch of jelly. Eight berries, 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8, one by one, eight sweet reasons to give thanks.

Spectrum application: –Be thankful for the little stuff; for me, that would be the sweet joy of one unsolicited hug! Don't look at someone else's bucketful. Give thanks for one.

Yes, that's a path. Just take the next step.

7929. -time to walk the path less traveled. The Sunday I took this picture, temperature/humidity levels were in the sweat-dripping-off-the-nose range. But, I was very thankful for Max's willingness to invest his afternoon in the pool with Youngest Mystery and a friend. Unfortunately I shared the journey with a tick. (Oh. Wait..I guess he shared the journey with me!) But we have the handy tick removal tool, and I could find it, and Max kindly wielded it! (Believe me, it's hard to see a tick on your ankle when you're wearing bifocals!)

Spectrum application: You are walking the road less traveled, so some days will feel very lonely. Remember to give thanks for those who come alongside with the tools to help you deal with whatever crops up along the way. Like tics. (Had to say it!)

7930. -exquisite beauty where no one else may have seen it. This orange bauble is known as Jewelweed. Yes it's a weed, but it's a jewel of a weed!

Spectrum application: Look for the beauty in the scenery; yours may be the only eyes that see it. Others may use labels to classify problems, but you can choose differently. Give thanks for small jewels where others may see only weeds.

7931.-the surprise in "my" tree. This was what I saw when I approached my favorite tree, and I figured some of the neighbor kids had been busy. I thought the squirrel whom I presumed lived in that hole might be glad for someone to remove the obstacle, so I did.

This was the surprise.

Snake skin?!

Spectrum application: Be ready for some surprises. Let go of expectations of what ought to be, and prepare to be amazed at what is. Who knew that Youngest Mystery would be pleased to spend eight hours and counting on a self portrait in oils?? Of course, some surprises are less thrilling. But we have to learn, somehow, to live with what is. (Believe me I'm in the thick of trying to figure out just how to do that.)

7932. -for fronds and friends. The recent rains revived the wilting landscape just as the vital "frondships" of my life revive and nourish me.

Spectrum application: Make time for friendships. For you, for your child. These are not "extras", they are essentials and without them, your life will be even less bearable. Give thanks for people who understand, or who, when they don't understand, care for you/yours anyway.

7933.-moments of beauty that come to me. Like happy moments, butterflies cannot be pursued for photography purposes. They just come to you sometimes, and if you want to "capture" one, you have to be watchful.

-Spectrum application: You've got to watch for the moments that come to you and give thanks for every one you capture, every one that captures you!!

I guess you've figured out by now that the spectrum applications are mostly for me. I didn't know where I was headed yesterday when I started this post a thousand words ago. But here I am, longing to do a better job of connecting my life and my list, and I'm realizing I can't do that without being watchful and thankful for all that I discover.

Watchful - alert; observant; attentive; vigilant; on the lookout.

It's how I want to live my life.

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Count your blessings, name them one by one...

7/24/2012

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When upon life’s billows you are tempest tossed,
When you are discouraged, thinking all is lost,
Count your many blessings, name them one by one,
And it will surprise you what the Lord hath done.

Count your blessings, name them one by one…Count your many blessings, see what God has done! (1897, Johnson Oatman, Jr.)

I've known this hymn for as long as I can remember, and yes, I must sheepishly admit that the above photos are of the flag hanging just outside my front door. However, its words are coming home to me in new ways recently as I continue my journey toward a thankful life. Thursdays are still for thankfulness, but I am ever so slowly learning that every day is the right day to live a life of gratitude.

Unfortunately, I lose perspective in the daily-ness of life,
of my life,
of my life in a household
colored by the autism spectrum.

Someone in my house has been struggling with obsessive thoughts, busy little spiders that stay up too late at night and wake up early some mornings, seemingly before the boy has raised his head from the pillow. And so my/his day begins.

- "So, Mom, God's not like this, right, he wouldn't wake you up to think about giving away your antiques, right?"

-Or, "God will never ask me to give away all of my antiques, would He?"

-Or, "They don't need antiques, right? They need money and clothes and love, but not antiques, right?"(He's worrying because he recently heard on the news about a family that lost their house in a fire.)

Framed a dozen ways every day, he worries that somehow this most beloved of his treasures, his collection of barn pulleys and antique tools, purchased with spending money he earned mowing and weeding and washing vehicles, will be taken from him by a God I barely recognize. It's not that the child doesn't give, mind you. He tends the family chickens and saves the egg money in his missionary fund (which generally goes to his beloved brother, the Barefoot Wanderer.) He divides his money regularly between God-money, savings, and spending, and his treasures were bought with only the spending. Still the question haunts him, haunts us all, dogging his/our steps day after day. Much as I love him, I cannot help him lay this one to rest.

I cannot get inside his head and sort out the sticky threads that make up this web where he's been snagged. It's part recently awakened sensitive conscience, part obsessions of the spectrum, part trust issue, part medication which could be making this issue worse.(or better?), part "unknown."

I can listen, I can pray, I can give him ideas for thoughts that could replace this one. I can reassure him that God is in fact not like that. Rather, that God wants him to enjoy these simple pleasures, that God doesn't want him to be miserable, that God can be trusted with this treasure, with all our treasures, that when the time comes to give things up, he/we will know, and God will help him/us want to let go. And some days some of those things help. A little bit. Some days.

But not this day, apparently. Early, way too early, he pops in to inquire if God would wake him up to tell him to give his antiques away. I tell him, "Certainly not," as cheerfully as I can muster; I reassure him, and he heads back to his room. Now I want to talk to God about it, and say, "This better not be You, and if it is, knock it off." I sip my coffee and the boy is back and back and back, maybe four, five, six times and it's not yet seven a.m. I entertain the possibility of telling him to shut up and leave me alone because I'm trying to pray. (Relax already, I didn't say it, I just considered it. Momentarily.) Right about now in my "quiet time" (what does that mean, really, at this point???)  I usually remember...
my gratitude list.

Oh that. The gratitude list. Yes, I'm still at it. It's been three years and counting, literally. The numbers are in the seven thousands, and this week my note book will be completely filled, and I'll have to figure out what to do next. I've been contemplating bringing this project to an end…after all, the goal was, initially, a list of One Thousand Gifts  based on an idea from a blog written by Ann Voskamp who would later write a book by the same title. So, I've more than achieved that goal. But what about the bigger goal, the development of a life of gratitude?

Okay. So I have a ways to go. But oh, how far I've come.

You might not know that I used to be an "all or nothing" kind of girl. When life was good, it was fantastic, unbelievable, phenomenal. And when life was hard, it was hard…ly worth living. If a day had a rough patch in it, I considered that day ruined. Of course the problem seemed to be that life was often hard, and most days were patchy and far from perfect, ie, in my mind, a complete loss. Which is no way to live a life.

But I've learned a few things along the way; in the past decade or so, I've discovered the value in choosing to "count your blessings, name them one by one…count your many blessings see what God has done."

My list of gratitude has only served to strengthen that perspective.

However, I'm realizing I've gotten a little sloppy in my watchfulness. Having to recapture the joyful minutiae of last Thursday kind of misses the point of living thankfully each day.
Plus, it's not all that easy to remember, partly because I've learned so well to live "in the moment," partly because my memory isn't as young as it used to be, and partly because life with a person on the autism spectrum is intense. (INTENSE!!)

This is the area where I still struggle to bring together my life and my list. A significant verse that "came with" Youngest Mystery is James 1:17 "Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change..." Right here, in the middle of days like this one (and probably tomorrow too) I want to watch for every gift, to receive with thankfulness all that comes from God's hand. Yes I want to help this one become all he can be, overcome all that causes him to stumble, but I also want to see the gifts that he brings, the gift that he is.

This is the area where my watchfulness is most needed and least developed.

So, I guess I won't be ending my list-keeping any time soon. I still have some things to learn, some gratitude to grow in some dark corners of my life. Today was such a challenging day and tomorrow (morning!!) will be here soon, too soon. Please excuse me while I resume my list!

#7928..... You can read it tomorrow... -Hummin' B.

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Stand.

7/6/2012

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I was puttering in my garden when I heard the rhythmic approach of a horse's hooves on the road, not exactly a stand-out sound in my corner of the 'shire. But this time, something sounded different…the staccato pace was too rapid, the rattle-jingle equipment accompaniment was missing. Nothing bounced along behind him...there was no sound of a carriage, hay rake, disc, wagon, manure spreader…

I caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of my eye; a runaway workhorse, in full draft tack, clattered up the road. Something had obviously gone awry. I listened for voices, for clues, and heard nothing, so I headed toward my neighbor's barn.

I wasn't sure anyone was "home." It was late afternoon, that interlude in country life between feeding the animals and milking the cows. For a few minutes, every afternoon, our hardworking Amish neighbor and his family pause in the house to eat an early supper before heading back to pull warm milk from waiting cows. When I heard a voice, urgent, insistent, I knew someone else was aware of the situation.

There was nothing for me to do.

I had just revisited my weed work, when the hooves clattered by again, only this time the horse was turning into my driveway. I sprinted up the slope that is my front yard and waited in the place where driveway intersects fence and hedge. A horse on "this side" of the fence would be more frightened by all he did not recognize, more likely to injure himself, more difficult to point homeward.

And so I stood in the gap. No waving arms, no voice, except perhaps a low murmur. I contributed nothing but presence.

    The horse saw me,
    paused,
    turned away,
    stopped,
    looked me in the eye,
    turned again,
    hesitated;
    he seemed to weigh his options.

    And then, just as he was ready to bolt, his wide wild eye
     caught a glimpse of his farmer. He heard a voice he knew;
     turning, he trotted toward the barn.

     From the other side of "barn/home" I heard more calling-talking
    -cajoling, more scattered horse footsteps, but he was nearly done
     adventuring.
    My services were no longer needed. And really, what "service"
     had I  offered?  What did a town girl transplant in blue crocs and a
     tank top have to offer?

     I simply stood in the gap.

    I was present.

Sometimes that is the only gift I can give, it may be the best gift you can give. Presence. Sometime words aren't needed or even helpful:

When death visits and leaves with a family member...
when a friend agonizes over the shocking choices an adult child is making...
when one I love must make a hard decision...
perhaps the most helpful thing I can do is simply stand. I can stand for them, beside them, with them.

I can be present. And so can you.

Or, to approach the metaphor from a slightly different direction, there is no way to know, to measure, to grasp the incredible value of a life lived by simply standing.   By God's grace, I - you - can stand for truth. You can be there. You can stand as a person of integrity, faithfulness, compassion.

Perhaps a young acquaintance, full of energy and life, is on the verge of barreling through a boundary, a hedge, a fence of protection. Another, facing a difficult circumstance may be considering a shortsighted "solution" with eternal implications. There are people whose lives intersect with yours whose life perspective has been skewed by circumstances you can barely imagine.

Your willingness to stand may be their only glimpse of something different, an alternative to what they have always accepted as normal.

You just never know where your presence might be needed.

You just never know.
So for today, just stand. Be there. Be present.
In faithfulness, in integrity, be a presence in the lives of those you know, or those you may never know.

Just be there. Stand.

Stand.
  ~Hummin' B.

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Thursdays are for Thankfulness, Autism Spectrum Style!

Count your blessings, name them one by one...

Stand.

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