Tuesday, June 18, 2013
Let Not Your Heart Be Troubled
"His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me."
Those words from the hymn give me such peace.
God watches, He sees me, no matter how alone I feel, no matter how small I feel in this old world. He knows my heart's ache, the pain that comes in the midst of our special needs world.
His eye is on me.
Today, I learned of a plan from my son's biological, noncustodial father and stepmom to hospitalize in a psychiatric unit my biological son. Fortunately for the parties involved, it did not occur, especially because as the biological parent, I was not notified. Of course I did fax and email all those who are in my son's psychiatric team, as they were not notified either.
Such is the life when there are two separate homes for a child. One home where the child lives full time, goes to school, church, has activities, special services per the local organizations that specialize in working with Autism, MR, and Special Needs children in general; one home where he has all attention to himself and doesn't have to share with a stepbrother or sister, where he has full access to video games and multiple tv's, where he has much say over things, doesn't have to follow a stringent school/activity/etc routine. Transitions are hard for the child caught between the two. Rules are different, expectations are different, parenting styles are different.
Here, in our home, we have a fairly structured system. Even though not all the rules and routines are written out, we've practiced them over and over, and with prompts, we try to maintain them. Sure, there's deviations when necessary, but we have a pretty overall decent schedule. We are predictable. Beginning soon, we add more people to our schedule, with in home attendants who work to help my son in social skills, how to behave in public, how to work on expressing feelings with words instead of hitting someone, and so on. More added to our schedule. More activities.
Of course with the addition of more people in our home, more pressure comes with. I'm grateful for the organizations who are able to help in the ways they are. It is not easy to find help for an 11 year old, especially in the days of short funds and those funds growing shorter. Not so many people understand the world of autism and MR and related disorders and can handle working with a child like ours. Even less understand trying to raise three with autism disorders in the same home.
With the pressures of each child acting in ways according to their diagnosis, with the oncoming puberty in all three of them (hide me!), and every day life in general, sometimes the pressure cooker nears it's overflow. It gets tough, the pressure increases, with finances tightening more and more, with behaviors, quirks, needs that must be prioritized, personalities that conflict, and so on. That's just the kids and us, not including yet any of the people who are to come to our home up to six days a week.
What do you do with mounting pressure? What happens when the spout opens and the steam rushes out the top of the lid? What happens when you think the cooker just can't handle any more pressure?
You stop, you pray, you ask for guidance.
You ask the One who created you to guide you, to relieve the mounting pressure, to give you peace, even in the midst of a pressure cooker storm.
You sing, "His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me," like I do. :)
Then you breathe, and go back to the cooker and watch what God does. :)
He cares for the sparrow, and He cares for you!