Shenandoah National Park… “ a land bursting with cascading waterfalls, spectacular vistas, fields of wildflowers, and quiet wooded hollows.” Stonyman is one of the many short hikes manageable for my husband Nick and I and our autistic son Jonathan, who has Down Syndrome. He’s a strong young man, but sometimes needs a little extra assistance. He balks at the unsteadiness he feels on the rocky path, so help from our son Matthew and his wife Mya is welcome.
As I reflect on the beautiful scenes of our glorious trip, a recurring memory is the clearing of those rain clouds. Clouds symbolize various, contrasting themes in literature and the Bible. In literature, a man-centric view recognizes their seemingly capricious qualities. In my personal life, I’ve associated clouds with foreboding. Worry. To my surprise, I discovered that in the Bible, clouds often symbolize the hidden yet ever-present Spirit of God.
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His face is a blur, body bobbing up and down at lightning speed, shoulders rising slightly and pulling his muscular torso forward with each hop, willing his body higher. Surely his feet are attached to motorized slinkys. As the credits roll, the “juddering” drum phrase is center stage in Hans Zimmer’s Dune score, layered with a cacophony of otherworldly voices, war horns and repetitive musical motifs. Jonathan is transfixed. All in.
Sharing my husband’s Nick’s recent account of an adventure at the DMV that captures so much about our journey with Jonathan. You’ll laugh and perhaps cry as you see the father’s heart of this Prince of a man. I couldn’t do it without you, Nick.
Read MoreJonathan and I round the curve on Skyline Drive. There, high atop the Shenandoah Valley, through branches once clothed in verdant luxury, light like liquid gold pours, so that shafts suspend themselves in every open space like so much glitter thrown to the wind. Trunks ordinarily gray seem lit from within. They shimmer silver, their rough bark edges gilded in transcendent, gleaming glory, a benediction on our impromptu trip.
Jonathan’s face lights up as soon as we pull into the driveway. During our bedtime routine, he actually laughs out loud. He knows he’s home! What I long for, Jonathan doesn’t tell, he shows. Shows and experiences wholly. Completely, on the deepest level. Here he is loved.
Read MoreAs the pandemic drags on and temperatures soar, my quest intensifies to find new shady hikes and country roads to explore. The rolling hills of northern Virginia are full of them.
Read MoreLately, we’ve luxuriated in the lush green of summer. A deep blue vault shimmers above the crowd of towering oaks.
Read MoreI don’t say this lightly, or mean that I find it easy, but I’m beginning to surrender to the brokenness.
Read MoreHappy Jonathan, happy day! Jonathan watches contentedly from our front deck as Nick, Matthew and I envision, plant and transplant in my flower garden. Springtime, birthday delight! And then – enough! Grinning rakishly, Jonathan creeps over the deck railing to join the action. And what a time he has. Crowing a delighted “Eeee!” Jonathan revels in the rough texture of shredded pine bark against wiggling toes and wriggling fingers, mulch rubbed onto the driveway, tossed skyward to drift back down. Glorious freedom. Glorious sunshine. The picture says it all.
Read MoreJonathan’s head bobs from side to side, his brown eyes twinkling, crinkling with a smile that takes over his whole face. Encouraged, I elaborate. Coloratura variations on my old standard, “Chew, chew, chew and swallow!” Silly songs with Mommy. I’ve finally found my career niche. Since my last post, Morning Fog Burned, rays of light are piercing through. Piercing through the fog of unknowing and discouragement.
Read MoreI can rest now. Knowing He’s high above the fog that surrounds me. And like that morning fog burned, when I least expect it, He astounds with glimpses of dazzling beauty.
Read MoreIn a low moment of questioning, God dropped the words of the prophet Isaiah into my heart. “He was despised, rejected.” I’ve spent a lifetime avoiding rejection. He signed up for it.
Read MoreGrocery trips with Jonathan...They’ve become touchstones, marking victory or defeat, progress or regress. The grocery store is where it all started. Where God crashed into my Jonathan story. Where new hope was born. Today, success meant Jonathan stayed in the high blue plastic kiddie seat without bolting, slithering or leaping to snatch cupcakes or wander away. Triumph at the grocery. Might seem funny, but it’s a huge gift.
Read MoreHe tilts his head ever so slightly towards me. Our foreheads touch. A little thing, yet so huge.
Read MoreThe Kindness of others. Simple, helpful acts. A lifeline to hope. God’s love made flesh. I am not alone.
Read MoreIt’s what we Moms do. Fix things. Band-aids on skinned knees. An embrace to sooth a tearful child. Comfort food to welcome and cheer. Their trusting faces say “Mommy, you can fix anything.” We believe it, until we don’t. Until we can’t. Can’t fix it.
Read MoreThe tears are a gift. In that unbidden place of sorrow, memories are released. They reassure me how fiercely I love not only the Mom she was, but the Mom she became. The Mom who faced adversity with graciousness, courage and tenacity.
Read MoreMorning cloud cover and a brief respite from our steam sauna summer gave Nick and I the courage to venture out on a neighborhood walk with Jonathan. Since we live at the base of Bull Run Mountain, this involves some hilly terrain, but we’ve done this one before, Successfully! (Oh, the perils of optimism….)
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