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The “Monster” in Our Home
“I will never fail you. I will never abandon you.” Hebrews 13:5
It’s a little after four in the afternoon. The bus has arrived. The routine questions have been asked, and the usual answers have been given.
Then it begins.
We have lasted a good few weeks without an afternoon meltdown. We have an afternoon routine established for Hunter that alleviates the need to throw himself on the ground outside. However, the snow days we have had recently has thrown a wrench into our perfectly planned afternoon routine.
And so a meltdown begins to brew. All over a donut. A donut I said we would get one day. Today, of course, had to be that day.
And so, my afternoon home with my children begins with picking Hunter up off the frozen solid ground.
I have mentioned before that Hunter has autism. Although a mild form, Hunter is still a creature of habit. Many odd and sometimes tiring habits. Habits he refuses to break, and those we wouldn’t want to break. He also remembers EVERY thing. Things from years ago, and of course trips to Dunkin Donuts. Unfortunately, the sweet, happy-go-lucky youngster most people see turns into a screaming, kicking, stomping monster when habits or routines are broken, or when something he thinks should happen today, tomorrow, or next week does not.
It is often adhering to these habits and routines that can wear a parent down.
It’s often the screaming, kicking, stomping monster that makes a parent want to throw in the towel. Makes us remind God that we didn’t exactly sign up for this when we decided to have kids.
Sometimes, taming and calming the monster in our home is just plain exhausting.
Sometimes, I admit it. This little boy can make me angry. He can wear on my patience. On my nerves.
And on most of these afternoons, I just feel alone.
I am genuinely glad that most people do not see the Hunter I see on many afternoons. I am glad most see the sweet, happy, and free little boy that for the most part he is, but sometimes, the fact that others get to see this side of my little boy also makes me angry. It makes me feel defeated.
It makes me feel alone.
It’s hard for people to understand when he is acting out in a grocery store because they don’t have banana yogurt, or because he has reached his two store limit. When he has fallen on the floor in a fit in the middle of the church. When he grunts and walks the other way when someone speaks to him.
It’s hard for people to understand just what I went through from the time the bus arrives to the time dinner is put on the table, especially if there are no Ramen Noodles (which we have to go to the grocery store and get NOW). No one else sees the many times I have had to restrain him so he won’t hit himself or bang his head. No one has had to witness his lying down in the middle of the street simply because I touched him. No one has had to listen to 20 minutes of screams that not even Hunter understands.
I’m glad no one has had to see this side of the monster in our home.
But, it doesn’t mean that on many days, I don’t feel alone.
Even when I walk through the darkest valley, I will not be afraid, for you are close beside me. Your rod and your staff protect and comfort me. Psalm 23:4
Yet, I don’t have to feel alone, because I have this assurance from God that he is always with me.
He’s right there with me as I carefully place the laminated school busses back on the fridge door. He’s right there with me as I explain he misunderstood. That we were not going to Dunkin Donuts today.
He is there with me each and every time I have had to pick both he and I up off the bedroom floor.
He is here with me when I just don’t know if I can handle another afternoon like the one before.
When I am mad. When I am afraid. When I am ready to throw in the towel. When I am feeling that no one is there who understands or really gets it.
He lets me know I am never alone.
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Stop. Breathe. Come to Me.
“Come to me all who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.” Matthew 11:28
I am a weary, tired, and exhausted momma. For the last four nights I have stayed up into the wee hours of the morning trying to complete a number of homework assignments for graduate school. As I sat at my computer dozing off while I attempted to write an eight page paper, I realized I was in desperate need of some serious rest.
I was weary, tired, and exhausted, and as much as I hate to admit it, I wanted to tell all my social media friends just how tired I was. I wanted everyone to sympathize with my weary, tired, and exhausted soul. And I did. I opened Facebook. I even typed a “whoa is me” status sure to get many sympathy “likes.” But then I stopped.
“Come to me, January. I will give you rest.”
I shut off my computer. I opened my Bible, and I went to Him.
It wasn’t the only time today that I would be reminded to rest in Him. Most moms can probably relate to the wrestling, coercing, and pleading that is required to get a load of children outside or inside any building, or even into and out of a car on some days. Add to this the fact that your keys are at the bottom of your purse, or under a child’s butt after buckling him in a car seat; that you have all your children’s artwork tucked into three of the bags that you are carrying (because I HAVE to keep EVERY piece of artwork, and find a place for it); and your already weary, tired, and exhausted. Certainly a meltdown of some sort is coming soon.
Usually it’s the kids who have the meltdowns. This time it was the weary, tired and exhausted momma!
See, my car never locks on its own. Usually, I can guarantee that once I have packed all three or four bags and children in, that the drivers door is always unlocked. But, this morning, the one where I was already dog-tired and bone-weary, my car decided to lock on its own.
Of course.
And where were the keys?
Under the butt of a now buckled in little boy. In a car that was now locked. With a mom who was not in it.
Of course.
And, I did what a weary, tired, exhausted momma would do. I panicked! I moped, I cried. I may have even said a swear word, or two. Here I was locked out of my own car. In the cold. While my kids sat on the inside. Alone.
“Come to me, January. I will give you rest.”
I wanted to crumble in a crying heap in the parking lot, but that still small voice reminded me to “Stop! Breathe! And go to Jesus!”
He wants us to give Him our burdens. He says so in Matthew 11:28-30. “Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.”
Once I stopped, took a breath, and went to Jesus instead of the asphalt in the parking lot, I found that the answer to my horrible mommy moment was in fact easy, because I had kids in the car that could obviously unlock it for me.
And the reminders to stop, breathe, and go to Jesus didn’t stop in that parking lot. It continued as I proceeded to scream my frustration at a failed internet connection, and an unsaved assignment. The reminder to “Come to me,” and give my burden to Him was brought to the forefront of my mind again. Stop. Breathe. Come to me.
How many times do we make projects, assignments, issues, relationships, and life hard to bear simply because we fail to go to Jesus? Because we fail to give him our burden? Because we fail to let him help lighten our loads just a little bit? How many bouts of frustration, fights, and meltdowns would we avoid if we simply learned to remind ourselves to stop, breathe, and go to Jesus?
I may not get the physical rest I so desperately need while in the midst of mothering, working, studying, and ministering, but I can breathe a little knowing that Jesus will carry my burdens for me. If I stop, breathe, and go to him, he will ensure that the way to get all these things accomplished will be just a little bit easier.
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Words I Never Want to Hear from My Daughter’s Mouth
Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen. Ephesians 4:29
“What are you doing, Mommy?” This question comes from Hayley as she enters the bathroom where I am getting ready.
“I am putting on makeup.”
“Can I put on makeup, too?
“No, honey. You don’t need makeup. You are already beautiful without it.” So, to this she asks why I need makeup, and my answer? “Well, Mommy needs makeup to cover up wrinkles, and if I have pimples and red spots…well, I have to cover those up, too. Mommies need makeup so we don’t look so tired.” Yes, these words actually came out of my mouth.
Old, imperfect, pale, tired. In other words, I was telling my daughter how ugly I thought I was. I was telling my daughter that women must hide all their imperfections under foundation, concealer, eye cream, and mascara.
And the views I have of myself, of my body, and my intellect are expressed in this more often than that one conversation in the bathroom. It continues almost daily with the comments I make: “I feel so fat! These jeans are just too tight!” “Be sure to get my good side in the picture. You know, the one without that horrible gap in my teeth!” “Shorts? No shorts! I mean look at these pale and bruised legs!” “I don’t wear sleeveless. I can’t stand my arms.”
The comments I make when I think no one is listening.
The comments I make that my very conscientious and curious daughter hears. The very comments she will one day say in her own home, to her own daughter.
I don’t want to hear these same words come out of my daughter’s mouth.
For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Psalm 139:13-14
I have read this verse so many times. I say it. I profess to understand it. I have it plastered in each of my children’s baby books, and I have it cited on this very blog. Yet, I don’t believe it or live it out through the words that come out of my mouth.
I want my daughter to believe she is beautiful, that she is a masterpiece. Made by God. I want her to believe she is fearfully and wonderfully made. I want only those things to come out of her mouth. Not the self-loathing words that come out of mine. The words that could one day become her own. The ones she learns from me.
She won’t learn to love herself on her own. She will not learn self-love from the world. If I am not careful, she will also not learn it from me. So, I must show her that I truly believe I am a beautiful child of God. I have to relinquish the need to let words uttered in my bathroom fall from my lips anymore. I cannot say those words I never want to hear come from her mouth.
One day, Hayley will be 35. She will look in her own bathroom mirror, and she will see her own mother. She will see me. And she will look at herself and see old, imperfect, pale, tired, fat. In other words-ugly.
And those are things I never want to hear come out of my daughter’s mouth.
It’s time to check my tendency to berate myself at the door, especially at the front door of my home. It’s time to truly believe, live by, and repeat that I am a beautiful child of God. I am fearfully and wonderfully made. I am a masterpiece. I am loved.
Those are the only words I want to hear come out of my daughter’s mouth.
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A Raging Battle in My Closet
I have a confession to make.
My name is January, and I am a shopaholic. I confess that at times I crave a good sale, a new pair of shoes, and a designer dud at a thrift store price. I have even found myself justifying my purchases to God…because if I am shopping at Goodwill, it’s better than paying full price at a fancy department store, right?
Certainly there is nothing wrong with a little Goodwill shopping. I love thrift shopping. It gives me pleasure when I dig through racks of clothes to score a high end piece of apparel for less than 4 bucks. That’s golden!
But, it’s when shopping becomes my go to therapy that we start to have a problem.
It’s when I seek the thrill of finding a great new outfit or deal after a hard day to put me in a better mood instead of God that we start to have a problem.
1 Timothy 6:9-10 even warns of the despair one can feel when emphasis is placed on possessions and worldly riches on Earth: But people who long to be rich fall into temptation and are trapped by many foolish and harmful desires that plunge them into ruin and destruction. For the love of money is the root of all kinds of evil. And some people, craving money, have wandered from the true faith and pierced themselves with many sorrows.
And I know all to well what kind of ruin and despair using shopping as a cure-all can cause. It causes disagreements in the home over budgets and finances. It caused this same girl at 23 years old to have to claim bankruptcy due to credit card debt (all from shopping), and we won’t even start with the space issue we have in our closets, attic, and laundry bins because of my cravings to shop.
What’s worse? It causes a rift between me and God.
Looking at Psalm 84:2 this week, God opened my eyes to just how much more I could be seeking and yearning for Him.
My soul yearns, even faints for the courts of the Lord. Yet, so often the only courts I yearn for are the ones found inside a mall.
My heart and my flesh cry out for the living God. Yet, my heart and my flesh cry out at the flash of sale alerts, clearance racks, and fancy new clothes.
In Chapter 1 of the book Made to Crave, Lysa TerKeurst states “we consume what we think about. And what we think about can consume us if we are not careful.”
Do I think about shopping? Yes. Has it consumed my life more than God? If my closet is any proof-most certainly!
So, Monday in an effort to feel empowered and to cleanse my soul of the craving for shopping, I also cleansed my email inbox of sales alerts, fashion articles, and anything else that may tempt my flesh into visiting the courts of the mall instead of the courts of the Lord.
This may seem a tad overzealous, yes-but I want my passion and desire to burn for Christ, not for the latest fashion trend at the shopping mall, or the newest treasure at Goodwill. I want Christ to use my fashion sense to do His will in whatever way he sees fit, not by adding more stuff to my closet. I want to draw closer to Him, and not to the ladies in the dress department at Belk.
Am I saying that I will never seek out another clearance rack or peruse another Goodwill on a Friday morning? No. But what I am saying is that I will look to Him to give me the desires of my heart before I hit the mall.
I will seek His courts above before I head to the courts of the mall.
I will seek Him for the support and solace I need before I use shopping to fill these empty spaces and build me up.
I will seek to crave Him, His wisdom, His love before I surrender to the craving of hunting for the latest deal at the store.
I will fill the closets of my heart with more of Him, instead of filling the closets of my home with more clothes.
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Let’s Be Honest
The king is pleased with words from righteous lips; he loves those who speak honestly. Proverbs 16:13
The boy above…the one with the laughing eyes, cool as a cucumber demeanor, and mile wide grin also happens to be the example of brutal honesty. Honest to a fault at times. Honest enough to even get himself in trouble!
Our 5 and 6 year old share a room. Unfortunately for Hayley, Hunter insists on this. Unfortunately for Mommy and Daddy this means more giggles at night than actual sleep. Giggles are always pleasant to hear. They are far more pleasant than the bickering these two are usually engaged in on a daily basis. Sometimes giggles also get out of hand. Sometimes Mommy and Daddy have to intervene. Sometimes we have to investigate the shenanigans that keep two little kids from much needed slumber.
And to find out what is really going on, we only need to ask one little fellow.
“We’re just making shadow puppets!” Right about the time big sister shouts an emphatic, “Nothing…”
Who does that? What kid really tells the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth? Well, this little guy for one. And many more little guys and girls on the autism spectrum. While many of the symptoms and oddities we have to contend with like meltdowns, rigid routines, and obsessive interests can be intolerable, honesty-true honesty-is probably one of the traits we enjoy the most.
One I could also use more of in my own life, conversations, and relationships.
Sure, Hunter’s idea of honesty may be telling someone with all sincerity that their legs look bigger, or their belly looks funny (Trust me. I know this first hand!), and this type of honesty is not exactly what we want to hear or even say to others, but having the tough conversations, confronting someone who may need to hear a few words of wisdom or encouragement is even advocated by Paul:
Instead, we will speak the truth in love, growing in every way more and more like Christ. Ephesians 4:15
Yet, we pull the wool over our own eyes, tell our friend, co-worker, family members that it is alright to engage in a particular activity, or to feel a certain way. We tell ourselves it is alright to do and feel the same things. We are afraid of the consequences of our being completely honest with each other, with ourselves.
We are too afraid to get in trouble, feel ridiculed, or get our feelings hurt.
Just as Hunter does when he insists his sister is kidding, because they really are playing flashlight tag, we must be honest with God, too. We must come before God and admit we too are sinners. We failed. We lied. We spoke in anger. We slandered a friend. We messed up. We played shadow puppets in the dark.
As David indicates in Psalm 139:23-24, I want God to search me, and know my anxious thoughts. I want Him to point out anything in me that offends, and lead me along the path of everlasting life. I want Him to guide me in the way of honesty.
Lord, Help me to be more like Hunter. Honest and open with you. Please search my heart daily, Lord and reveal anything that does not give you glory. In Jesus name. Amen.
About Me
I am January! Wife, mother, meemaw, pastor, and mental health provider who makes it through the day with my coffee, my journal, and my God. A simple human, navigating life through the messy and sometimes chaotic. All focused on Him.
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Grace 'n Grounds 