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In one of the groups I follow (Creative Awakenings; we’ve had a challenge during the month of May to find something everyday to “bliss out” on. Today – my bliss is RAIN. Here in Colorado, rain is not as regular or as common as it is in the East or other areas of the country.

Now, I grew up in Ohio and live for my time in Connecticut – rain, moisture, GREEN, even humidity are all things I crave. So, today while we have some rain and cloudy, cool weather, I am BLISSING OUT! Breathing the cool, misty air is like being able to breathe the air from heaven itself. I feel replenished, whole and happy. It’s a little thing – but it’s the little things that count, right?

And, during this rainy day, there is NOTHING better than curling up with a hot cup of tea, my knitting and a good book, a warm quilt and a fuzzy little fur-butt on my legs while listening to my kids playing happily on the floor…ok, I can dream, right? Realistically, I might get the hot cup of tea and the cat on my lap (probably the 20-lb cow-cat) while my kids go hyper and fight about toys because they can’t go outside and play. The quilt is piled off into the corner, under a load of stuffed animals, toys, kiddos blankies and probably a sippy cup or two, and forget knitting or reading – too many interruptions.

But…the dream is nice and I know these days won’t last forever. So, even the sticky fingers on my face are a little bit of bliss by themselves. Even if my kids ARE arguing, Aidan is using language (which if you’re around and/or have an autistic child, you don’t take for granted) – another area of bliss.

Bottom line? Bliss is where you find it 🙂 That said – tonight I’m going to “bliss out” on a homemade, Connecticut-style Hot Lobster Roll… MMMMMMMMM 🙂

This is the sermon I was asked to give in my church on Mother’s Day:

-I’m going to start by reading a story to you, about a mother who wanted to share the experience of having a special needs child:

“Welcome To Holland” by Emily Perl Kingsley ( )

I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability – to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel.  It’s like this……

When you’re going to have a baby, it’s like planning a fabulous vacation trip – to Italy.  You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum.  The Michelangelo David.  The gondolas in Venice.  You may learn some handy phrases in Italian.  It’s all very exciting. After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives.  You pack your bags and off you go.  Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, “Welcome to Holland.”

 “Holland?!?” you say. “What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy!  I’m supposed to be in Italy.  All my life I’ve dreamed of going to Italy.” But there’s been a change in the flight plan.  They’ve landed in Holland and there you must stay. The important thing is that they haven’t taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease.  It’s just a different place.

So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language.  And  you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met. It’s just a different place.  It’s slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy.  But after you’ve been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around…. and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills….and Holland has tulips.  Holland even has Rembrandts.

But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy… and they’re all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there.  And for the rest of your life, you will say “Yes, that’s where I was supposed to go. That’s what I had planned.”  And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever  go away… because the loss of that dream is a very significant loss.
But… if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn’t get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things … about Holland.”

With all due respect to Ms. Kingsley, when you find you have a special needs child,  you’re not just visiting, you’ve got to LIVE in Holland and learn to adjust.  Here’s what you learn: The “travel agency” (the professionals you work with) really do try to help, even if they can’t really understand what it’s like to have to live in Holland. They can come home, we can’t. And sometimes, the CEO of the travel agency (God) seems pretty far away. Your neighbors who go to Italy don’t know what Holland is like, either – and they want to share their experiences in Italy. Sometimes, though, it’s hard for them to understand our experiences in Holland. While sometimes we have misunderstandings and know that things get lost in translation, we also know that we’re all on a journey together and can share and learn from each other’s experiences, regardless of which country we visit.

“Holland” – let’s call it Aidanland from now on  – has its own language, customs, rules and laws. First of all, the citizens of Aidanland can be pretty touchy if you violate their customs and rules and they can’t communicate with you – meltdowns, hitting and kicking, biting are all common occurrences. However, once you learn to communicate, and the citizens of Aidanland learn to adjust to OUR customs, things get better – although “cultural misunderstandings” can and do continue to occur occasionally.

The language of this country is something very different from what you’re used to, as well. “ Aidanese” is a language of color and of similes and metaphors:  “I want the gray”  “What’s the gray, Aidan?” “Like Daddy takes pictures” “Oh, the camera!” Or, “I go guffing” “Aidan, what’s guffing?” “Like Donald” (After thinking about things and remembering a distant episode of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse…) “Oh, you mean GOLFING, like Donald did!” “Yeah, Mommy – guffing!” The syntax is different, too: It’s common to hear native Aidanese say, “You’re not important to…” to teach, to go to church, to work…what this really means is, “IT’S not important for you TO…”  do any of these things. “It’s important for you to stay with me!” (But until you understand this, it’s heck on your self-esteem!)

 Second, the customs of this country are different from what you might expect. In Aidanland, licking the walls and other objects, sticking things in your mouth, repeating phrases over and over like a broken record are normal. Using the potty is NOT a given, like it is in other places – nor is looking at people when you talk to them or when they talk to you. Eye contact and toilet training are things that citizens of Aidanland have to learn in order to survive in our world, but it’s not a given that it will happen on schedule. Amusement activities are different too: Lining up objects is fun – and Lord help anyone who messes them up! Bouncing uncontrollably, flapping arms, or spinning around without stopping are also considered high entertainment.  The “important things” in the culture include ceilings, lights and light poles, and “red balls” – things that most of us in other countries don’t pay attention to. Oh yeah…in Aidanland, only the citizens get to sing, unless it’s church songs. Anyone else gets, “You make my ears hurt!”

 Another mother of an autistic child wrote a reaction to the “Holland” piece, and added to our understanding of this culture: (“Schmolland” –           

“The hard thing about living in our country is dealing with people from other countries.  We try to assimilate ourselves and mimic their customs, but we aren’t always successful. It’s perfectly understandable that an 8-year old from our country would steal  a train from a toddler at the Thomas the Tank Engine Table at Barnes and Noble. But this is not clearly understandable or acceptable in other countries, and so we must drag our 8-year old out of the store kicking and screaming, all the customers looking on with stark pitying stares. But we ignore these looks and focus on the exit sign because we are a proud people. …Other families who have special needs children are familiar and comforting to us, yet are still separate entities…we share enough in our language and customs to understand each other, but conversations inevitably highlight the diversity of our traditions. “My child eats paper. Yesterday he ate a whole video box.” “My daughter only eats four foods, all of them white.” “We finally had to lock up the VCR because my child was obsessed with the rewind button.” “My son wants to blow on everyone.” 

 And my favorite? Aidan has to ride the escalators at Macy’s for at least an hour before it’s ok to go enjoy the rest of our Saturday…because “riding the escalator is COOL, mommy!”

 We also ignore the whispered “diplomacies” of “ambassadors from other countries”: “why can’t she control that child?” “What’s wrong with her – what did she do wrong with him?” “I’d never let my kid behave like that.” And as much as we try to ignore, try to help others understand…these still hurt. We understand though…because we realize that we have done the same at times, and try to remember to be more compassionate when we feel this way.

 Although other special needs parents and parents in general have differences, we have a lot in common. We are a lot like the fruit growing on the branches, needing the love from God’s vine: 4Abide in me as I abide in you. Just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in me. 5I am the vine, you are the branches. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing.”

 We also learn that it’s not all hard, exhausting, or tough. There are moments when the true wonder shines through.  We never, ever take the “culture” for granted – we notice, appreciate, and celebrate every achievement and every reach toward growth.  Every developmental milestone that’s reached – no matter how late is cause for joy and gratitude. We learn the CEO of the Travel Agency – God – DOES care. He gives us friends, family, congregations, and groups to support us when we’re down, to help our children grown, and to be THERE when we need them. You – all of you – are the angels that make a difference to us and for us.

We notice the incredible, wonderful differences that not just set our children apart, but also show how God is working through THEM to help us:  For example, most kids play doctor, cowboy, fireman, teacher, etc….Aidan plays “pastor.” We come home from church, and have a procession in our living room, singing a hymn while Aidan gets on a box with a microphone and says, (literally) “Good Morning! Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.” He then gets down, grabs the bread from the kitchen and comes to each of us saying, “The body of Christ given for you.” What a reminder of God’s love and presence in each of us!

And, every now and then, this child blows me away.  Many of you have probably noticed that Aidan takes communion – this came from him saying to me one day in the nursery, “Mommy, Body of Christ is for everyone.” When Pastor Michael talked to him, he said “Jesus loves…body of Christ is Jesus.” While we were out at the park the other day, Aidan came running up holding two sticks. He was very excited and said, “Look Mommy! I see Jesus!” Me, wondering what was going on, said, “Where, sweetie?”…He held the two sticks together to shape a cross and said, “Here Mommy! Jesus is everywhere!”  Pastor Aidan struck again! So, in the spirit of the lesson he had just shown me, we took those sticks, bound them together and made crosses as reminders of how much God does love us. 

The bottom line is that no matter how different we are, on the inside of the outside, God is in us, and around us and with us. “Pastor Aidan” has taught me so much – not just about living in Aidanland, but about living in our world, everyday. For whether we live in Italy, Holland, Aidanland or somewhere in between, when we show love to these children, to their parents, and to each other, we are living the word and doing love:  11… since God loved us so much, we also ought to love one another. 12No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God lives in us, and his love is perfected in us. 13By this we know that we abide in him and he in us, because he has given us of his Spirit.  And in His name, Amen.

Reflections of Reflections…

Other Facets of the Mirror