Lapsing in the blogging journal area, I see! But, this morning another thirst for words, focus, figuring things out grabbed me, and here I am.
Right now, I'm sitting in a quiet kitchen, except for a clock's sound and an occasional cat-licking. My husband would know how keen my ears are, how painfully sensorified I am. And, I just heard my daughter's text from my phone in the back bathroom . . . she is upset at the local news for charging for online reads. I'm smiling. She called them her favorite adjective: "Stupid!" Ah, the teen years still surface.
Spiritually, things are alright. Today, I feel disorderd, yet don't we ride our emotions in order to arrive in a safe pasture one day? Riding.
I am now working with one student in my educational therapy business. He is autistic and nonverbal, yet inside he is brilliant. However, it's difficult for him to answer my questions like describing his dog or telling me about his morning. He echoes. He can write fairly well. Something is blocking -- auditory, cognitive. I look at him, a nice young good-looking 20 year old, and I think, "If only this didn't happen to him!" If only he could communicate his feelings to his mother, if only he could be running around with guys his own age, if only he could navigate directions on his own. However, he can't, and I still rail the "If only's" inside, just like his mother does. Well, much much less than she does in proportion. She has reported that the therapy has really helped him already, though. I go to bed wondering how I can help unlock his barriers. I pray for him. I sleep on it. Yet, I know he is a blessed child of God as he is too. May I continually acknowledge God's stamp of approval on him. May I acknowledge his joys in life and his abilities. Thank you, God, for this opportunity to work with him. And, for this student and for the others to come:
I wait for the Lord, my whole being waits,
and in his word I put my hope. (Psalm 130:5 NIV)