RAYS OF LIGHT, RAYS OF HOPE
Jonathan’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. I’ve discovered the peace of recognizing God’s activity above the fog. Thanking God for his faithfulness in the past gives me courage to face not yet resolved challenges. Like Jonathan’s agitation.
And now, I am seeing the work of His hands. God’s merciful light. A medication issue resolved, relieving much of Jonathan’s agitation. Jonathan inspired rays. Smiles and snuggles. And progress! Sunlight glints off the creek, golden beams streaming through a still barren forest. A safe wide path allows Jonathan the freedom to walk ahead as I snap a few pictures. Without thinking, I call out, “Wait, Jonathan!” Wonder of wonders! He waits! Miracle of miracles! He waits, standing, until I catch up! Not sitting down in the path so I have to try to drag him up on his feet again. A huge deal. Most of our instruction involves hands-on direction. To respond to a verbal cue--monumental!
Progress! Staying with the grocery cart he’s “pushing” (or draping himself over:) Yes, he still sits down on the floor in the middle of Walmart sometimes, but he gets up more quickly now. Rather than a world wrestling match. Yes, he was irresistibly drawn to the display tower of Cheetos when I paused to chat with an acquaintance. But after two or three “no’s,” redirecting his hand and nudging the large containers back in place, we avoided a Cheetos avalanche. And he made it through the grocery checkout! Without my chasing him two or three times while racing back and forth to the payment kiosk.
He’s smiling more again. His eyes are sparkling. I’m so grateful to have our son back.
Sadly, so many American children are victims of neglect and abuse. I wish I had a hundred different me’s to foster all the kids who need a safe and loving home. But God gave us Jonathan. To love. To protect. He’s so vulnerable. It’s a privilege, really. Entrusted with this precious young man. Who molds us more than we mold him.
And the dazzling sunrise I wrote about last time--the one that burnt off the morning fog? Maybe that was just for me. A beacon of beauty to come. Rays of light. Rays of hope.
