Sunday, August 20, 2017

When God is Quiet

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I was alone most of the day yesterday.  While that might sound like a dream come true when you lead a rather exhausting life that comes along with being a special needs parent, I assure you it's not.  Being alone with your thoughts isn't always wonderful.  It gives me extra time to think about the things far beyond my control, it gives me more minutes to marinate in sad and difficult feelings, and it seems to solidify the knowledge that I'm truly alone in all this.  God has been exceptionally quiet in all this for sometime now.  As I continue to pray for answers on how to provide the very best life possible for the miracle he entrusted me with.  Yet, He continues to ask of me that I show up each day regardless of the hurdles, road blocks and difficulties that continually lay ahead.  And I do because I have faith, hope and understanding that everything is in His time, not mine.  Yet, none of that changes the struggles that are before me in order to help Noah.

As I was driving to my first errand of the day to purchase more frozen cheesecake for Noah, which has become his evening staple after every dinner, I seen people alongside the road holding various signs.  Some over the recent racial tensions over the Confederate Flag, some over our various political issues, and some condemning terrorist attacks.  All of course receiving more response from passerbys and honks from cars than the man on the street with his sign and pleas for help in order to feed his family.  The world is so distracted that it fails to notice the smallest of struggles.  We can't see what is directly in front of us.

It's much like that for the special needs community too.  Our challenges and struggles are easy to forget, our voices get lost in all the outside noise.  We're out of sight out of mind.

I get to the parking lot of Sam's Club to buy Noah's cheesecake as I watch people fight over parking spaces.  All the while my soul wishes to scream to both parties that they should be so thankful that they were gifted with the blessing of the ability to walk no matter if it were two parking spaces distances longer to the door.  A physical ability my Noah will never be able to do.  Another woman in a hurry pushed me and my cart aside in her hustle, never looking back to see if I was okay or to say sorry that she bumped into me so aggressively.   I stayed quiet nursing my leg that was bruised in the incident, although my feelings were likely bruised more because I had hoped for that "so sorry, I didn't mean to,"  which would have made all the difference.  But instead it rather added to the theme of the day that I was feeling rather run over by the world - I now simply have a bruise to prove it, I suppose.

I got Noah his three cheesecakes and two packages of paper towel since Noah's sensory issues have been on overload and I'm going through paper towel these days like water trying to mop up his gagging and vomit episodes at home.  I can't even change his diaper these days without him gagging over the smell no matter how fast I do it, he always throws up on me.  If he even feels or hears the plastic ruffling of a chux that will even cause it.  I paid and left, I sat in my car briefly just watching people.  Everyone in a such hurry.  Like little ants on a mission but do they even know what that mission is?

I stopped by Natural Grocers on the way home.  I have made a habit now taking only one reusable bag into the store and filling it instead of a grocery cart.  I've convinced myself that whatever I can fit into one bag I can afford, no matter how heavy that bag gets or how much I try to stuff in it, that seems to be my goal.  I picked up odds and ends. I was rather directionless and without a clear mental note of the things I would need to get through the week.  Yet I filled that bag with things I anticipated we would need; Greek Yogurt to make Sunday morning pancakes fluffy, bread so I could make grilled cheese, bacon, eggs, and cheese.

I couldn't resist the urge to go next door to Two Rivers coffee shop. While the idea of coffee sounded good, what I really wanted was to see the heart that they do on top out of the creamer so that I could remember I was in some way loved.  Even if, just by a cup of coffee.  I stared at that perfectly decorated and heart adorned coffee for a few minutes before I was willing to put a lid on it and drink it.   I just kind of looked at it in awe.  It was heavenly and my only regret is I didn't get two because well, you can neither have enough love or enough coffee.

My last stop was to Kohl's to find my mother a birthday gift with the Kohl's cash I had been staving.  I'm not even sure how I got there other than the car was on auto pilot.  My mind heavy with the things I still need to accomplish; filling out SSI forms, dealing with denials, calling for a quote on something needs, reaching out to equipment vendors, trying not to be disappointed that Noah's fundraiser is going nowhere, the laundry, fixing dinner, washing Noah's food soaked chair, bathing two kids, cleaning up the kitchen, wiping down Noah's mats....

There is no shut off button for my mind.  It races as if it's trying to constantly troubleshoot.  And in the middle of it all I of course stop to pause and say where are you God?  You're still so quiet.  Why are you being so quiet?

I was really lucky and found something right away that I think my mother will adore.  I'd tell you what it is but she'll likely read this blog (as she faithfully does), and that would give away the surprise.  I felt like I found a really great gift.  I was walking to the car feeling really like a non-event - insignificant, dull and without any real importance except to my children.  And then I looked up and seen this note attached to Noah's magnet on the side of the car.  And it read:
"You're Right!  Amen.  May God be with you always!" 

I just cried right there in the parking lot, without really caring about what people thought.  Finally God said something.  The note had no name or identifying information to it.  And I'll likely never know the person who left it.  But if you're out there and maybe reading this someday - I want to tell you thank you.  Thank you for having the courage to think of us in such a beautiful way. Thank you for lifting my spirits although there was no way you could have known the emotional load I've been carrying.  You ended my day with such grace and love, and something so small really means so much.  I will save that note in Noah's hope chest, and will remember it always


Noah's Miracle by Stacy Warden is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.