Month: September 2015

Last week, I went on a little road trip with my friend Natalie and all of our boys. We have 5 between us, and thought it would be a great idea to take them all down to Des Moines to check out the Lego Creativity Tour. And we were right! It WAS a great idea. The boys had a blast building cars, Bionicles, and wading through an enormous pile of Legos, big enough to fill my living room, dining room, and kitchen. They explored and built and created art masterpieces that would last until they needed to be taken apart for the next session.

Natalie and I decided on our way back to Minnesota that our reward for rocking the Lego Tour would need to be a Caribou treat.

Naturally.

Pulling off the freeway, we noticed a man standing at the top of the off-ramp with a cardboard sign asking for money for food. We looked at each other and dug around in our purses to see what we had.

$4 and a granola bar. It wasn’t much, but we felt good about leaning out the window and handing it to him. These days, when technology rules, it is rare for me to carry cash anymore. Today, I had a little, and I felt good about giving that along with an immediate way to address his hunger.

As we drove on in search of our Caribou, we talked about the homeless situation, and the people who we see standing at off-ramps or on corners, holding signs in hopes of a donation. We both are familiar with individuals who do this as a job, making it difficult to distinguish those who are truly in need from those who are presenting a false claim. When my husband and I lived in Phoenix, this was a daily sight due to the warmer climate and larger homeless population. My husband regularly kept a supply of water bottles and McDonald’s gift cards handy to give them, and they were always grateful in their responses. Here in the upper-Midwest, particularly in areas that are more rural than urban, we don’t see it quite as often. We felt good about our small act of kindness and hoped that he got a little food to eat soon.

Back to our quest to find that Caribou. We hit the drive-thru, requesting our Chai Tea Lattes and a sweet treat from the bakery. We made it to the window and  the barista told us that our order had been paid for. I have never had someone do that before. It felt so nice. We turned around and covered the car behind us. It immediately put smiles on our faces. Natalie looked at me and said, “After covering the car behind us and giving that man some money, we still come out ahead.” It was all God’s handiwork.

Having a generous heart,

even in small amounts,

comes full circle and we are doubly blessed.

As a bonus, we were able to bless two other people in the process. Who knows what was shaping their day. Perhaps the gentleman with the cardboard sign was laid off and struggling to find work. Perhaps the person behind us in the Caribou drive-thru was dealing with loss or broken relationships. Maybe they were having a fantastic day, and it was just made better.Regardless of their situation, those small acts of kindness have the power to create a wave of blessings.

Timehop is a magical app. Most of the time. Sometimes it brings back wonderful memories that have been long forgotten. Sometimes those memories are tinged with pain and sadness.  It has a way of exposing just how repetitive life is from year to year, showing posts from annual events and seasonal habits. Today, it brought back a tough memory from a time when my oldest son’s autism was a bigger challenge. We were in a transitional time, having moved to Minnesota from Arizona. It was a return home for my husband and I, but it was a new place for our kids. This post is from my old blog, which was an outlet for me during a tough time navigating the ASD world.

Struggling with Change

This morning I had a tough time watching Alex struggle with change. We have been attending a variety of churches over the summer, primarily dependent on where we happened to be on a Sunday morning. We have on numerous occasions gone to a lovely church in Austin – Faith Evangelical Free Church. We went this morning to discover that the routine had definitely changed. All summer, Alex had gone into the nursery with Michael- no problem. They even looked forward to it. So when we walked in and saw that the preschoolers were in their own room, I was a bit unsure of how this would go.

After dropping Michael off, I took Alex to his new room. He immediately started having a meltdown- crying, throwing things, and yelling “no!” So, I stayed there with him. I also felt at such a loss for being able to provide for his needs that I started crying. I was embarrassed, frustrated, and was acutely aware of the fact that I am not around enough to fully know what to do in this kind of situation. I felt helpless and alone.

So, between Todd and myself, we sat out in the entryway and watched part of the service on a screen while working to console our son. As we sat there, a lovely woman asked me if she could give me a hug. I said yes, and truly had a God moment, knowing that this is what a Christian community does- even for newcomers. She gave me her name and number, asked for mine, and provided me with some other moms of children with autism within their church community.

I felt so grateful for the acknowledgement that sometimes, life is so much bigger than ourselves and we need to accept the grace of those around us.

With about 15 minutes left, Alex was finally ready to go back in and play. We went in with him- just in case. While he wasn’t visibly paying attention to the bible story, I knew he was hearing the teacher’s words as he repeated them back to me. We managed to slide out of the room with about 5 minutes left- a tiny victory for an emotionally draining morning.

5 years later…

While we do not attend that church,  I am thankful for that experience even though it was tough and I felt the mommy failure so strongly that morning. And God has a way of putting the right people in your path at the right moment. That mom who showed me such kindness? Her husband is Alex’s special education teacher at school. I am not sure she knows just how much of an impact that moment made on me.