Attempting To Learn

The traumatized brain is an outside-the-box thing.

The paper he brought home from school was too small and structured a practice space (so thankful for the kitchen chalkboard wall!) and he wouldn’t get even one single of the ten words right on the spelling test several days after I took this picture, but he practiced and he TRIED.

After a long day in the classroom, he was willing to come home and re-bend his brain to the shape of letters, re-work his hand muscles to hold the chalk, re-will his short-term-reticent brain to remember these new words that need to mean something to him.

These small tasks that I can do in my sleep cost Chase’s brain space dearly. These sleep action for me are coaxed into Chase’s ability only with years of practice and rounds of expert therapy teams. Even the ability to curve a letter (like the first in his own name) is a fixed and practiced thing, refined  in the fires of frustration, tears, and intense determination.

Sometimes this life isn’t about traditional success, but rather extraordinary effort – an incredible victory in and of itself. This moment; it isn’t about the memorized words or the score on his test, but about him pushing through “I can’t” to “I will” and “I did”. In an outside-the-box existence, sometimes the attempt is greater than the accomplishment.

This boy… he changes how I see life.

~MbM~

On The Unknown Road

The cold snapped in the air as the sun shone distant and too bright through the windshield of the car as we traveled along the road.  Chase’s first day of therapies.  A new building, new people, new things to be learned…the start of a new chapter.  And with the new, came the old and familiar: the fear of the unknown and the question – what lies ahead?  Always that question.

Chase’s high voice pierced the questions gripping my mind like my hands holding the steering wheel.  photo 2 (1)“Mommy? Where are we?  This is not the road to my hospital.”  For this is how Chase tells direction.  There is the road that leads to his hospital and then there is every other road ever made.  I answered and assured him that this road was a good road and that it was the way to his new therapy – therapy that would help him grow strong.

Silence followed for a brief second as he processed what he’d heard.  Then; “But Mom, are we late?”

“No, Chase.  We aren’t late.  We are right on time.”

Another moment of silence, then his voice again, this time with anger, “But Mom, this isn’t the road and we’re late!”

Steeling myself for the familiar exercise of reasoning with the irrational; I responded: “Chase, this is the road and we are not late.”  I received nothing but an angry growl and the reiteration that I was in error.

How many times would I need to speak truth to him before he heard?  

Finally, this; “Chase, do you trust me?  I know this road and I can see the clock. I know where we’re going and I know that we’re not late.  You don’t know this road, but I do.  I’ve driven on it before and I know where it goes.  Chase, you’ll just have to trust me.”

The petulant retort; “Mom, I can’t trust you because I cannot see the road and I cannot see the clock.  You can; but I cannot.”  

Suddenly, his voice was mine….mine to my Creator who speaks truth to me and calms the questions and fears at every turn.  He tells me that even though I don’t know the road, He does.  He knows where it goes and what’s along the way.  He knows the timing of it and how it will take me to places that will be hard but will make me stronger.  And I sit, petulant child that I am, and question trusting Him because I don’t know what He knows and somehow, in my small heart and mind, that makes Him seem less good and my fears seem more justified.

In that moment, that silly short moment of driving across the city, in the child voice from the back seat, I was reminded how good He is to me and that I don’t have to know what lies ahead to trust and follow.

Moment by moment.

For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.  Jeremiah 29:11

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