Not my plan.

So my last post summed up my surrender to God's plan, regardless of how comfortable (or, more accurately, UNcomfortable) it made me.

God has been doing CRAZY things in our lives since then.

I turned in my resignation immediately after posting the last blog.

Things stayed as they were for a few weeks. I got more and more frantic as the weeks went on. We tried to start looking for housing, but to no avail since we had no jobs. We had no idea how we were going to get down to San Antonio.

Then during the week of May 30, I got a call from a school in Seguin, TX (about 30 minutes outside of San Antonio) asking if I would come and do an interview. I was ELATED about the prospect of a job. We had already started arranging a trip down to San Antonio for Chris to try and find housing, and so we just added me to the trip, and my interview was scheduled for three weeks later.

On May 31, we got an offer on our house. It was lower than the bank said we could go, so we countered. They accepted the counteroffer, and again, I was ELATED.

However, we didn't get a paper copy back of the signed counteroffer. The next day, they called and said they needed more time to think about it, and held onto their signed counteroffer. Three days passed, and at the end of the three days they decided to back out of the deal. I was pretty crestfallen, but it sounded like the main reason they decided to pull out was because it was causing some conflict within the family. I knew that it would be better for them to pull out early than to have possibly years of conflict over this one purchase. We have had no offers since, and it is still on the market.

Chris and I flew down a few weeks later. Chris had a job interview at a Christian School in New Braunfels (the town we have felt led to actually live in), and I had my job interview in Seguin. Chris got a second interview, and I got a job offer, which I joyfully accepted. We still haven't heard about Chris' job.

So we used the rest of the trip to find a place to live, which was much easier now that I had a solid job offer. We found a place in a manufactured home community that was within our income and applied to rent it. We flew home, found out that our application was accepted, signed the lease, and began to plan for our move.

We emptied our house, selling much of the furniture inside of it, packed the Penske moving truck we rented, and headed out just this last Saturday. We spent the first night in Filer, ID with my dear friend who is a pastor there, and then led worship outdoors at the fairgrounds for their community. It was a tearful goodbye with our dear friends there, and then we were off. We drove and drove, stopping for the night in Las Vegas, Phoenix, and Fort Stockton, TX.

We had gotten into Fort Stockton at nearly one in the morning. We were exhausted and all of us fell asleep as soon as we hit the pillows. We slept in until almost nine that morning. I was the first one up and showered quickly, trying to make up for the time we had spent sleeping in. While the rest of the family was getting ready, my cell phone rang. It was from area code 210. I was puzzled at first, but then remembered the 210 was San Antonio. I answered, but got no response. I assumed it had been a misplaced call. A minute later, my phone range again from the same number.

When I answered it this time, a man introduced himself as the principal from a school in an area of San Antonio called Alamo Heights. I knew the area well. It's where our boys' school is. My heart sank as I realized what he was probably calling about. He met my expectations when he asked if I was still looking for a music teaching position as one had just recently opened in their district. I told him quite mournfully that I had already accepted a position at another school district, and he wished me good luck. I hung up the phone and started moaning and groaning. No really...I, a 32 year old mother of four, started audibly moaning and groaning. And then screaming. I did NOT understand why this particular principal from this particular school would have called AFTER I'd been down in the area to do another interview and had already accepted the job.

Here's why I was acting the way I was: At this point, we had NO idea of how we were going to transport the boys to their school, assuming we could afford to get them there. This particular location brought them in the exact area that the school was.

Chris told me not to worry about it, Kadee Joy told me "stop freaking her out", and so I sensibly stopped. For about 30 seconds. Then I called my mom.

She counseled me to call the principal back, explain the situation honestly, and see what he said. After freaking out another minute, I did as she advised. The principal was very friendly and told me he thought it would be great for me to interview, since Texas law didn't hold me to any contract until July 13th. Apparently the job had JUST opened up because the gal who had taught before had major family changes happening and had to move to a different part of Texas to be able to take care of them. So we scheduled an interview for 9:00 am the next day. Which was this morning.

We got into New Braunfels last night, unloaded our moving truck with the help of family and a kind youth group from our prospective church, and unpacked a little bit. I ran to Ross to try and find something that would work for an interview, which luckily I was able to. I got my outfit ready, set my alarm, got VERY little sleep, and then woke up, got ready, and drove to Alamo Heights.

The neighborhood in surrounding the school is RIDICULOUS. It's filled with beautiful, terribly expensive older homes, and lots of beautiful trees and landscaping. That's what sets Alamo Heights apart from the other parts of San Antonio. We had found it the same way when we'd visited the boys school in March. I drove into the school parking lot and went it. I was a little early, so after about ten minutes of waiting, the principal who had called me called my name, introduced himself in person, and then took me into the office to be interviewed. Both he and the principal of the school of the position I was interview for were there.

It was the longest interview I've ever had, and was very interesting. I was impressed by the importance they placed on the arts, the diversity of the students, the care in which they took to show respect and high expectations to their students, and felt also that the job was COMPLETELY out of my league. Overall, though, I thought it went okay, and they told me that I would probably know by next Tuesday if I'd gotten the position. They were going to contact my references after I gave them updated information, which I did as soon as I got home. Then I contacted my references as well to let them know that, despite the fact that I already had another job, they would be receiving calls from another school district.

I was pretty exhausted, so after some lunch and more unpacking, I laid down to take a nap. Chris woke me up, and let me know that the principal was on the phone. I was a little shocked, as I had been told it would take much longer to know anything. I answered, and she told me that my references had confirmed what she had gathered from my interview, and that she very much wanted to hire me for the position.

I was a little dumbfounded, but accepted immediately. And here's why:

God's plans and timing are always better than mine. I do not believe it was a coincidence that I was offered a job in one school district that enabled me to secure a house, which enabled us to secure the date to move down, which then put us in San Antonio THE DAY before a job interview for a job that had not existed until the very day I was contacted in Fort Stockton, which HAPPENED to be in a school TWO MILES away from the school that God specifically called me to bring my boys to. It is literally the closest public elementary school to my boys' school. It also pays enough to cover the cost in gas it would take to get them there on a daily basis.

It is a job that I simply will not be able to do on my own, and I don't expect to be able to. Because I serve a big God who has my back, and has not abandoned me yet, and has walked alongside me as I attempt to be obedient to what he has called me to do.

I called the principal from Seguin, and she graciously told me that of course I needed to do what was best for my family, and wished me luck. I am grateful for her, and her part in bringing us here.

6 months ago, we started the process, and God has been so incredibly faithful to bring me to where I am today. I praise Him for His provision, and his perfect plan. And I pray for the strength to do what He is asking me to do each day.

Not by sight

I like safety nets.

But I've been realizing more and more each day that God just might have the audacity to ask us to move down to San Antonio without jobs. Without a sold house.

Without a safety net.

Chris resigned both of his jobs two months ago. He is moving on faith, not sight.

I have talked with my administrator, but not resigned. I wanted a backup plan. I wanted to know that if somehow things "didn't work out" I would still have the job I love and the necessary income that comes with it. I wanted to be smart about this impending change. I wanted to do things in the right order. I have been living in the intent of faithfulness, rather than in the finality of acting in faith.

I think God's calling us to do things pretty backwards. Move before the assurance of a sold house, jobs, and the financial means to live after August. Or at least, backwards in American terms. Not so backwards biblically.

Abraham had no backup plan when he left Ur for the promised land.

Joseph had no backup plan when he found himself in Egypt.

Moses and the Israelites had no backup plan when they left Egypt.

Ruth had no backup plan when she left her home to go with Naomi.

David had no backup plan when he was anointed king while Saul still was king.

Mary had no backup plan when she found herself pregnant with God's son.

Jesus had no backup plan while he was spilling out his life on the cross.

God called them to all of these things, they obeyed, and then He provided. Although, His provision was not always what they thought it would be. And His provision thus far has not been what I thought it would be either. But He HAS provided.

On Monday, I'll be turning in my letter of resignation.

Lord, walk with us! Your plans are always better than mine.

"In your struggle against sin, you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood. And have you completely forgotten this word of encouragement that addresses you as a father addresses his son? It says,


“My son, do not make light of the Lord’s discipline,
and do not lose heart when he rebukes you,
because the Lord disciplines the one he loves,
and he chastens everyone he accepts as his son.”

Endure hardship as discipline; God is treating you as his children. For what children are not disciplined by their father? If you are not disciplined—and everyone undergoes discipline —then you are not legitimate, not true sons and daughters at all. Moreover, we have all had human fathers who disciplined us and we respected them for it. How much more should we submit to the Father of spirits and live! They disciplined us for a little while as they thought best; but God disciplines us for our good, in order that we may share in his holiness. No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it.

Therefore, strengthen your feeble arms and weak knees. “Make level paths for your feet,” so that the lame may not be disabled, but rather healed."

-Hebrews 12:4-12

Waiting

"We're in a holding pattern."

That's what I keep saying to people who ask me how things are going in the process of us moving to San Antonio, where God has called us to relocate in order to find more help for our boys.

Here's what we HAVE done:
1) We've found the place where our boys are to go.

2) Put our house on the market. We've quite a few people look at it. We've had to make sure that it is clean every single day before we leave. That's quite the feat with four children ages 7 and under.

3) We've gotten boxes. We've packed a few.

4) We've applied for jobs. I've applied for three in the Comal ISD, and Chris has been in ongoing conversations with a Nazarene church, both of which (the school district) are in a lovely town outside of San Antonio called New Braunfels.

5) We've prayed. And prayed, and prayed, and prayed, and prayed some more.

6) We've had others pray for us. We are literally immersed in prayer.




And here's what we still need:
1) The money to actually send our boys to the facility we found.

2) For our house to sell and for the bank to accept an offer when we get it. Our house is massively under water. It also is very apparent that we have four kids.

3) To get ride of LOTS OF STUFF and to have the money to actually move what stuff we still need down to San Antonio.

4) To actually get jobs. So that we can actually afford somewhere to live when we get there.

5) To pray. And pray, and pray, and pray, and pray some more.

6) For you to pray for us. Please, please, please...continue to immerse us in your prayers.

"I lift up my eyes to the mountains—
where does my help come from?
My help comes from the LORD,
the Maker of heaven and earth."
Psalm 121:1-2

Found it!

We traveled down to San Antonio to check out the area's autism centers to see if we could find the one that God told me about.

And we found it.

It is WONDERFUL and would be a WONDERFUL place for our boys.

And it is $3000 PER MONTHfor both boys to attend.

That's where we're waiting for God to step in.

God...you've called us there. Please show us your miraculous provision.

For Sale

In January of 2011, right around Chris' birthday, I started being unable to sleep. Anybody who has ever experienced this knows that one night without sleep is bad enough. I had seven. Seven straight nights of not more than an hour at a time of sleep. I tried all the usual remedies: no caffeine, allergy medication, benadryl, melatonin, etc. Nothing worked. I've experienced this kind of sleeplessness before, but it was in the middle of a crisis. This was not.

Finally, on the seventh night, around 2 am, I went out onto the couch and just laid down. Sleep did not come to me, but a thought did. I remembered in the book of Samuel how God had come to the boy Samuel in the middle of the night, and he mistaken his interrupted sleep for his mentor Eli calling him. It was only after several mistaken attempts to answer Eli that his mentor realized that Samuel was probably hearing from God, and told him to say, "Speak, for your servant is listening."

So I quieted my heart and mind as best I could and said (out loud), "God...I'm here if you want something."

And God answered, "Move to Texas."

I was a little startled by this, but had the presence of mind to answer, "Where?"

And God answered, "San Antonio."

And I asked, "Why?"

And God said, "There is an autism research center there."

Both of my boys, as most of you know, were diagnosed with autism when they reached the age of two. Many of my experiences here with my boys have been wonderful. My church, their preschool, our friends and family have all been so good, kind, loving, and understanding of our boys.

But one thing that has grown in my mind more and more, though, is how limited the resources here are. It has taken what feels like an eternity to get them even the most basic of services. It's not that the providers around here don't want to help our boys...there just aren't enough of them for the number of children with special needs who live here.

So the next morning, I Googled "Autism center San Antonio." And a funny thing happened...there are a lot of them. Some in San Antonio, some close to San Antonio, but they are there.

So I went into our bathroom where Chris was getting ready for the day and nonchalantly informed him that God had told me that we were to move to Texas. I will leave it to your imagination as to how Chris responded when I was the one to tell him that.

The next night, I inquired of the Lord, "When are we supposed to go?" And He answered, "After the baby is born."

This was in January. I was NOT pregnant.

But in April I found out that I was. And in December, after a difficult pregnancy and delivery, our beautiful baby boy was born.

Two days after God's initially speaking to me, we went to church, and wouldn't you know it, the topic for our pastor's sermon was "What to do when God speaks to you." Not even joking. It was based on the scripture in Habakkuk where God instructs Habakkuk to write down his revelation. So that night, I wrote down exactly what God said to me, and have gone back to what I wrote many times over the past 14 months.

The year between God talking to me and Luke being born was not an easy one in the sense of me just being willing to do what He was asking of me. I wrestled with God many, many, many times. I felt that we were too invested in our church, and they were too invested in us. I love my job, and didn't see how I could possibly leave it. I didn't want to uproot my kids into the unknown. I didn't know how it would be financially possible for us to sell our house and to move with all the unknowns. We didn't have jobs down there, or even leads on jobs. I don't know the school systems. And I didn't know WHICH autism center we were supposed to go to.

But God has been patient with me, and about six weeks after the baby was born, we were directed to a realtor, and we told him our story. He walked us through what we would need to do in order to sell our house (which is WAY under water), and so we got to work. It seems that that was all it took to get the ball rolling, because after that I started looking into getting teaching credentials for the state of Texas, talking with my administrator and other friends, and looking more in depth at the autism centers.

During the last few weeks we have told our church, much of our close family and friends, and a few colleagues at school what God spoke to me over a year ago. Chris' dad is flying us down to San Antonio to visit the autism centers in the area. We have gone through the arduous process of getting our house ready to sell, and we now have a sign in our yard and will officially put it on the market tomorrow morning. We still have no jobs and no real way of moving down there...but prepare to move down there we will do nonetheless. Chris put his letter of resignation into our church, and we will be done in an official capacity in June. In a last ditch effort to find our boys help here, I applied for them to come to my school because we have an autism program at my school (a very rare thing)...and they were denied because we live out of district. Another door to stay here closed.

So there we are. We know our overall end, and we know why we're going. We know what we are supposed to do TODAY, but that's about it. We hope that you will pray for us as we very much walk in faith that God has called us into His plan...and we already know that His plans are always far better than ours. We are grateful for His love for us and for our boys, and are excited to see how God will equip them for the calling He has placed on there lives in our moving down to a place where they can receive the help that they need. I would be lying if I said I wanted to leave...but I very much want to be in God's will...His good, pleasing, and perfect will.

New Addition

Obviously, baby Luke was added to our family. He'll be one month old tomorrow. His coming into the world was not without fear, not only because bed rest was riddled with multiple trips to the hospital to stop preterm labor but also because my placenta abrupted during delivery and his umbilical cord was tied in what could have been a life-ending knot. I am grateful for his life, and for God's lessons in the times of fear that have made me a less complaining mother during the usual sleepless nights that newborns bring. I will take them willingly knowing that there was no guarantee that I would have this time with him, and that he could have been taken at any moment leading up to his birth. He is quite bald, having not only little hair on his head but also no eyebrows and sparse eyelashes. He is quite the little old man, and we're so happy that he is here.

I haven't been to work in nearly three months. It will be a longer period of time than any summer break I have ever had. In that time I have had the opportunity to appreciate both the time with my own kids (limited as my physical interaction with them was) and also to reflect on how fortunate I am to work with the students and staff that I have back at Iowa. God is very good to have placed me there. I am praying that I will be a source of encouragement and help to those that I work with.

Our little family seems to be adjusting well to the addition of child number four. Quite honestly, it doesn't seem nearly as hard as having our first child. I don't know that he's necessarily an easier baby...I think that God has simply been able to use our experiences, both positive and negative, to help us prepare for Luke's joining us more easily.

Kadee Joy is such a wonderful big sister. She has always shown a great propensity for patience with her other brothers, and extends it now to her new youngest. Andrew is quite taken with Luke, and if he hears him cry says, "It's okay, Baby Wooke." He also will try to give him his pacifier, which is always accompanied by "Here you go, kid. Here you go, kid." Then he pets Luke's bald head and gives him a big kiss. Jeffrey is neither taken with nor bothered by Luke. He often has to be reminded that the baby is there at all...otherwise I think Luke would be a stepping stone more often.

And Chris is...well Chris is just wonderful. He has often taken the late night or early morning shift when the baby is just wide awake for no apparent reason. He gives me nap breaks when I need them, and still takes care of most of our meals. He manages to find me beautiful even when showers have evaded me and pajamas are my default outfit. What a wonderful place to be in, and how grateful I am to the Lord for bringing us to this sweet place in life.

Well, you KNEW it was coming...

This will not come as a shock to anyone who is friends with me on Facebook. It probably won't come as a shock to the dozens of people I e-mailed either. So for the rest of the world, as of a week ago, I was put on bed rest for the remainder of my pregnancy. I hit week 30 two days ago, and full term is 37 weeks...so I've got a ways to go.

I will write a little bit about what bed rest is like, in case you were wondering. First of all, my movement (standing or walking) is restricted to four hours a day. When my doctor first told me that, I was pleasantly surprised. Four hours seemed like a ridiculous amount of time. However, it has run out quickly every day, and if I even THINK about going over my four hours, contractions start up and I end up back at the hospital for a shot of Red Bull (at least that is what it feels like they're injecting me with) before I'm sent back home with stricter instructions to keep hydrated and for pity's sake to rest!

So I am still allowed to do things like shower, run MINOR errands (for me, this a trip to the library to exchange the large number of books I now have time to leave) and do very, very, very light housework. I'm actually having a hard time with the last part because now that my home LITERALLY is my world, I am finding a bunch of stuff to clean, fix, etc....which gets me in trouble physically. And I'm finding that if I DON'T take care of it while Chris is gone, my attitude towards him when he gets home is pretty negative, especially when I start listing off all the things that I have come up with.

What has struck me over the past few days is how OUT of control this whole situation is. I mean, I can rest, hydrate, take my meds...but this baby still tries to be born. And ultimately it is out of my control. When I first found out that I was pregnant, I rejoiced in the fact that I could make sure that I did EVERYTHING right. I made sure that I was taking all the vitamins that I was supposed to take, that I was eating the things I was supposed to eat (or rather, not eating the things I wasn't supposed to eat), that I was doing nothing that would make me look back on this pregnancy and wonder if there was something else I could have done to ensure that this child would....well, frankly....be NORMAL.

Because I am still, on rare occasions, plagued by a sense of guilt that my boys' autism was something that I inflicted upon them by just not being careful enough, watching enough, talking enough, not following the rules enough in pregnancy... And while I don't believe that about ANY OTHER PARENT, Satan still places it on my heart and mind with my own.

So in a way, this bed rest has been a big reminder from my one true God, the Creator of all, that I never was in control of the design of my children, that they are WONDERFULLY made, and that He is the ultimate mapmaker for their lives. I can plan whatever I want to, but ultimately His plan for my life and the life of my children is the one I am going to live out. And knowing that He is faithful, loving, a help in time of need, and my Ultimate provider, I will shout praise for this time of rest, and for the protection He has laid over me and my precious baby boy thus far. And what my little guy ultimately turns out like is no less than God's perfect plan...and that is beyond good enough for me.

No, I wouldn't.

As so often happens in life, I have been asked an unusual question more than one time in the same week. When this happens, I thank God for the opportunity to reflect and answer. And today, I thank God for the journey He has brought me through to my answer.

It started with a fourth grade class I had. Right after their class has me, I have my autism program class. Usually I make sure that my fourth graders leave right on time so that my autism class doesn't have to wait in the hallway for very long. This particular day, I had lost track of time and asked that my fourth graders line up as quickly and quietly as possible so that my next class did not have to wait much longer.

The sounds coming from the hallway at this point are typical of my autism class. You could hear shrieks, "EEE--eeeeee!", scrapes against the wall, all normal for this class for whom the idea of "waiting quietly in hallway" was a laughable thought. At this, one of my fourth graders said, "Oh, is that the....I don't want to be rude....is that the..."

I helped them out by saying, "That's my kids with autism class. Although not all of the kids with autism in our school are in that class."

For some reason I felt compelled to add "If my sons were at this school, they would probably be in that class. They both have autism."

One of my other students, who I'm sure was trying to be sympathetic, immediately chimed in, "Oh, that's sad....."

I took in what she said, and the sad expressions of her fellow classmates, and said "You know, it's actually not too sad. I love my boys. They don't know how to be hurtful towards other kids. They don't know how to lie. They are very loving towards each other...I wouldn't change them even if I could. The kids out in the hallway have very beautiful sides to their personalities."

With that, I dismissed them, and they very quietly got in line and I opened the door. As we passed by my next class, I could see my fourth grade students trying very hard to smile at them, even though catching my autism classes' eyes is sometimes an impossible task. For that moment, I was very proud of my fourth graders, and very glad to be having my autism class next. No, I wouldn't change them.

I've been asked this week (again) what the chances of this next son (due at Christmas) having autism are. With his brothers both having it, the most recent study has given him a 1 in 3 chance of developing autism. The natural followup for this stat is "Does that scare you? What are you going to do if he has autism?"

When I take the time to reflect, I see my boys as they are and see (gratefully) that they are beautiful, extraordinary little boys who have blessed my life beyond measure. I think I take each milestone they reach with more gratitude and pride than I would if there was complete certainty that they would indeed reach them.

I think about Andrew's huge capacity for compassion and empathy, and see how saddened he is by the hurts of others, and know that in watching him live I have become more compassionate and empathetic.

I see Jeffrey's big brown eyes light up as they watch a new discovery, or twinkle as he laughs hysterically at a goofy scene, and I know that in watching him I am rediscovering what it means to enjoy the new adventures in life.

I see my daughter taking on her role as a big sister to these two special boys in a selfless and understanding way and know that it would probably not be to this extreme if her brothers were both "normal."

And I see my husband, who is so wonderful with my boys and helping them in the midst of meltdowns and struggles, and praise God that he is here to help me on this journey.

So the self-reflective question that comes as I daily face the diagnosis that has been laid at my door in my children twice so far..."Would I change them from having autism if I could?"

And to my surprise and delight, I am happily able to now say "No, I wouldn't."

Hope for Love

Over a month ago Chris and I were given tickets to go and see a Boise Hawks baseball game. It was so much fun, and we thoroughly enjoyed both the game and the precious time in each other's company.

While we were sitting, I noticed a young man who looked to be in his early twenties. He was a good looking kid with bright red hair, and I noticed him because of the animation of his gestures as he spoke to those who was standing next to.

It took only a few seconds of watching to realize that there was something very different about this young man. Strong as he looked, his body and face would break into uncontrolled spasms while he continued to try and get his point across. He was close enough to be able to hear his voice, and his speech was noticeably affected by some sort of disorder or delay. But he kept talking, and his companions seemed to know him well enough to follow him easily. He left after a while, and at first I was simply filled with pity for this seemingly healthy young man whose body and mind was ravaged by what I assumed to be a seizure disorder.

And then, about 45 minutes later, he came back. But this time he was not alone. He was accompanied by a woman wearing a big hat and carrying a cane. At first, probably because of the cane, I assumed she was older, probably his mother. But as she drew nearer, it was evident that she too was young. A wide smile covered her young face, and she was holding onto the arm of the young man, who seemed to walk in a slightly unbalanced manner, another indication of a seizure disorder.

Was she his sister, his friend...? I'll admit that my initial curiosity probably turned into outright rudeness, but I pointed out the couple to my husband, who began to watch them as well. They were greeted warmly by the same people the young man had been talking with before, and started up another conversation. Despite the continued spontaneous jerks his body took him through, the young man kept talking, and would sometimes defer to his companion who would smile lovingly at him and press his arm. It soon became apparent...they were TOGETHER. And she absolutely adored him.

One of my greatest fears for my boys, besides a worry for their ability to be independent, is that they will never know the love of a wife. That they will never know commitment from someone who adores them simply for who they are.

And that young woman, with her big hat, cane, and wide smile, gave me great hope that love is out there for my boys as well as for the lucky guy she found who may not have the traditional charms of the modern-day knight in shining armor, but who was able to see her for more than just her disability as well as she was able to see and love him.

Elopement

When Andrew was first diagnosed, I was directed (by the developmental pediatrician who diagnosed him) to many different resources on autism. One of the sites was the IAN Project. During my entrance into the world of mothers of children with autism, I initially took on a frenzied search into the world of autism and studied anything about the disorder I could find. My search has not stopped...it has just slowed down a little bit.

I check up on it every once in a while, particularly when I receive notice of an article that features a struggle my family and I are having with autism. Recently, an article came to me regarding "Elopement and Wandering." "Wandering" I understood...the term "elopement" was a little strange. So I went to the actual site and checked it out.

Essentially, elopement is when a child (any child I guess, but seems particularly prevalent in children with autism) suddenly runs from an area of safety into an area of danger, and excludes those who did it at an age appropriate time (I remember Kadee Joy during the terrible twos).

Andrew struggled with elopement pretty much up until the age of four. If we were in a mall, a grocery store, our church, our house, he would suddenly run from us, usually when there was a long hallway, and would not come back on his own, regardless of how many times (or how loud) we screamed his name. The difficulty came when Chris and I were in a position where we could not simply run after him, which usually happened when I had Jeffrey in a stroller and Kadee Joy was still quite young herself. If I was lucky, I would be with someone who could stay with my other two while I ran after Andrew. If I wasn't that lucky, I would simply drag my other two with me and run after him at a slower pace. There were many times when Andrew was caught by some other well meaning adult who would scold him soundly for not listening to his mother. Other times, there was no one else to help, and all the other people there would simply watch and shake their heads at the mother who couldn't keep her brat under control.

The first dozen times it happened, I would be humiliated and had to leave wherever I was. I just couldn't handle the disapproval of those around me.

After the first dozen times, I realized that this was simply how Andrew was, and I would just have to keep working on helping him to understand that he just COULDN'T run whenever he wanted to. I don't know whether my talks did it, or if it was simple maturation, but around four, we went to the grocery store and he started to run again...I called his name and he stopped, turned around, smiled, and ran right back to me.

It has been that way in stores, malls, parks, etc...the only place it is a problem every once in a while is in parking lots, which of course is probably the most dangerous place it could happen. Today we went to Fred Meyer to do some banking and pick up a few things, including two gallons of milk. He was fine in the store, and Kadee Joy was there to keep him entertained.

I didn't have much at the end of the trip, just a bag of groceries which Kadee Joy carried, and two gallons of milk which I carried, one in each hand. Andrew had not "eloped" in quite a while, and the parking lot was not too busy, and since I didn't have the hands available we walked out together, hands to ourselves. Crossing the front of the parking lot was fine. But as soon as we got to where our van was, Andrew bolted. Kadee Joy and I both immediately called out his name, but he didn't even appear to hear us. We called again, and still no response.

By this time, families in the parking lot had stopped to stare. As I looked farther ahead, a car, about 20 feet in front of Andrew, had started to pull out. This time both Kadee Joy and I screamed his name and I dropped the milk on the asphalt and started to run. Andrew was still running, and the car was still backing out. I reached him right before it would have been too late and pulled him back. He had a smile on his face. The thought of getting hit had not (and still has not) crossed his mind. He was just going on a race towards...something. I turned him towards me and said "You DON'T run from Mommy...you could get HIT by a CAR!" He thought I was just yelling at him for no reason and pulled one of his standby movie quotes out to tell me essentially to leave him alone. I kept his hand in mine and walked him firmly to the van where I buckled him in. Then I went and got the abandoned milk cartons (which had not exploded, luckily), and loaded Kadee Joy and the groceries into the van.

Kadee Joy started crying in the car. She kept saying "Andrew, I know you didn't like that Mommy got you, but you could have DIED! You scared me to death!" Andrew, still feeling picked on, continued his movie quote rant and then requested fries (McDonald's has far too many locations).

After my heart had gone back to a regular rate, I reflected on what I could have done differently. I could have kept Andrew in the car grocery cart he loves until we got to the van, put him in, and then loaded the groceries. I could have tried to carry both gallons of milk in just one arm, and used the other one to hold onto Andrew. I could have...I could have...I could have...

The difficulty is that most of the time, he can handle staying with the family. There is no rhyme or reason to why he stays with the family sometimes and why he bolts others. I want to teach him to respond to someone calling his name, which he does so well now almost every other scenario. But it's like whatever it is he is running TO has far more pull than those he is running FROM.

And he's not alone. The study currently being done on IAN shows that it is a HUGE problem for families of children and even adults with autism. It's not an act of defiance or disobedience...it's simply part of the disorder. I don't have the time to explain that to every family who stops and stares, or to every adult who chews my boy out if they happen to catch him.

So I guess I would just like to say to everyone: If you see a child suddenly run from a safe environment to a dangerous environment, no matter how old, no matter if their parents are there or not...PLEASE take the time to stop the child, and PLEASE resist the temptation to scold, offer advice, or judge. It is very possible that you might encounter someone who dislikes your "interfering" by stopping their child, but I guarantee that most people would be grateful that you helped to keep their child from harm. I know I would.

Spring Break

I was a little apprehensive going into this Spring Break because I knew that my Mom had gone to the small town in California we lived in for eight years during her Spring Break and that my sister and her family were visiting my brother and his wife down in California for theirs...and I felt very left out. Not because I wasn't invited to get down there, but because I just couldn't...not with the new (to us) van we just got with our tax money, and the fuel pump we just replaced in our other car.

So instead, when people would ask me what I was doing for Spring Break, I would just witheringly tell them that I was staying at home. They would then inquire whether or not my kids and my husband had the same Spring Break as me...which they did, and I would reply as such. Then they would say some comforting thing like, "Oh, well that'll be nice!" I would reply something polite back, but would continue pining for a vacation I knew wasn't coming.

Silly me.

The first day of Spring Break started with coffee with my pastor's wife. This may sound odd, but in the 6 1/2 years we've been members at that church, we've never gone out to coffee, even though we are both coffee people and both of our husbands are in pastoral positions at the church. And I'd have to say that it was a WONDERFUL way to start out the week. We did talk about stuff for our upcoming Women's Retreat that she organizes and I am leading worship for this year, but mostly it was just talking. I'd been feeling very disconnected from our church, especially from the women in our church because Chris and I are primarily with the Senior High Youth. I'm not available for any of the bible studies because I work full time, and the list goes on. So it was just nice.

That same night we had a senior high overnighter. I really like spending time with our group, but "the old grey mare, she ain't what she used to be." I was exhausted after it. It took me a full three days to recover.

On Monday, I started out with a little shopping, mostly cooking ware that I've wanted since cooking out of Julia Child's cookbook. After that I came home and completed three out of the four tasks Chris had asked me to accomplish on our week off, the two main ones being the cleaning out and reorganizing of our kids rooms. They were quite the tasks but their rooms are now easy to play in, easy to keep clean, and are blessedly hygienic.

Chris and I have been able to get many great conversations in as well, which always seems to be difficult during the regular work weeks. Our marriage has been really growing lately, and I've been very, very content.

My kids LOVE being at home. Kadee Joy especially loves it. Sometimes I wonder if the amount of concentrated time she is at school is more exhausting than it should be....but either way, we only have eight more weeks and then she'll have a bigger break.

Andrew has his transition into kindergarten meeting coming up in the next couple of weeks. I was given the opportunity to go in and observe the two classrooms he was being recommended for: Moderate Extended Resource, and Severe and Profound. I really liked the Moderate Extended Resource room, even though it was not at the school he's been at for the past three years. I was SHOCKED however when I entered the Severe and Profound classroom. Most of the kids in the room were non-verbal and physically almost completely incapacitated. Both of those things are just not Andrew. Andrew would far and away being the highest child in the classroom. I believe that the teacher in the severe and profound classroom is doing amazing things...I just don't think Andrew in any possible way belongs there. So I went right over to our wonderful preschool teacher and let her know that I definitely wanted him in the other classroom. So we're excited to see what next year holds for our dear boy.

The rest of the week has been filled with laundry, laundry, laundry...and also a few more meetings with people from my church. I especially enjoyed meeting with one of our youth yesterday at Starbucks. It was so nice to be able to hear from her heart uninterrupted. I actually got to go to Starbucks TWICE yesterday, so obviously it was a good day.

Well, Jeffrey has patiently(?) been waiting for a turn on the computer so that he can do his multiplication numbers and learn about decomposition, so I should probably wrap up. It has been a very refreshing Spring Break, too short of course, and although I do love my job, this break has made me much more excited for the summer that will come sooner that I expect. May you find rest and peace as well.