by: diane.connis@gmail.com
 I admit, I‘ve run out of words.
Well, ‘run out’ might not be the exact terminology. Words still exist, but they are a continuous whirlwind of thoughts, crashing into each other and shattering in uselessness to the bottom of my brain.
I‘ve been asked, why I‘m not writing and posting regularly like I was. When you can’t make sense of anything, expression can be difficult. Everything I once thought I knew, believed, subscribed to, seems trivial and irrelevant. All the knowing-of-things I once held dear, is nothing but the fluff of a spent dandelion blowing in a tornado.
I need to drown out the noise of this world, the constant chatter both past and present, ricocheting off the walls of my heart and mind. So many words and ideas others have spoken into me since childhood. Piled deep and high. I’ve been stripped inside to the nakedness of my soul and exhausted by years of ideas, opinions and dogmas I have heard and still hear.
Confession time? Complete honesty? All my cards laid out on the table? I‘m too tired to figure it out anymore. Too broken to put me back together. I‘ve reached the end of myself and I don’t care how unspiritual it looks. The mask is off. I can’t fake it ‘til I make it. Can’t stomach the cliches and pat answers I always thought were truth.
I am asking God to help me understand Him in ways I never have before. I am begging my Father to reveal Himself to me. Not from the interpretation of others. And not from my own contrived misconceptions of who He is. But for Himself.
What about Him do I not know? What about Him do I not understand? If I’m going to move forward from here I desperately need to hear His voice and understand His heart. For me. There’s little to say right now. I must be still and learn to know He Is God.
I‘m like Mary, who after the angel appeared to tell her she would bear God’s Son in human flesh, pondered all these things in her heart.
Or Job, who after striving with so much sorrow before his Creator, put his hand over his mouth and shut-up, realizing he had spoken things without knowledge, from the limits of human reasoning.
Or Paul, who considered everything he had ever accomplished prior to knowing Christ, the power of His resurrection and fellowship of His suffering, nothing but garbage. Manure. Useless.
The encouraging news in the dark night of my soul is this; even the dandelion, that blooms, withers and blows away, is rooted in solid ground and when the winter is over, lives again. Even the garbage heap can be recycled into new usefulness. Even the manure pile is tilled back into the earth to enrich a new harvest. In the fullness of time and the proper season of renewal, all can be restored.
So in this season, I exist on what I still know that I know to be true. God is good. He is faithful. He does not abandon. And He loves me. At present little else matters to me.
It is all the words I have. And it is enough.
For now.
Psalm 46:10 “Be still and know that I Am God.”
Luke 2:19 “But Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart.”
Job 40:4-5 “I lay my hand over my mouth. Once I have spoken, but I will not answer; Yes, twice, but I will proceed no further.”
Job 42:3 “I have uttered what I did not understand, Things too wonderful for me, which I did not know.
Philippians 3:8-10 “ Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith— that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death.”
Lamentations 3:22-24 “The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. “The Lord is my portion,” says my soul, “therefore I will hope in him.”
Matthew 28:20 “I am with you always, even unto the end of the world.”
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by: diane.connis@gmail.com
 For years, butter coexisted with the jelly in my refrigerator. Mike made toast, buttered it and used the same knife to spread the jelly, leaving butter globs in the jar.
Our son, David and I commented to him repeatedly, how gross it was to open a jar of jelly and see butter all through it. He would smile and say, “You’re gonna’ butter your bread first anyway so what’s the problem. This way it’s all done for you.”
We could never get Mike to stop and for years it annoyed me. Today should have been our forty-third wedding anniversary. One more special day in my year of ‘without him firsts’. A day filled with longing and tidal waves of sorrow crashing against my heart. I wonder how long it will take for me to stop feeling like I’m still married to him.
I also wonder why I was so irritated about such trivial things such as butter in the jelly jar. As I made Jon a peanut butter sandwich a few days ago, I realized I would give anything to open that jar and see those butter globs all over the jelly again. I desperately miss all the things I loved about Mike and surprisingly, even the things I didn’t.
Everyone we love annoys us in some way. And we annoy them. Socks on the floor, toothpaste tops left off, toilet paper rolls facing the ‘wrong way’, crumbs in the kitchen, a glass left out of the dishwasher, shirts hung crooked on the hanger; these are signs of life, and validation that someone you care about is still here.
So don’t dwell on the petty, the insignificant, making constant mountains out of anthills. Let it go. Laugh. Love. Serve. Forgive. Believe me when I tell you how much you’ll miss the butter globs in the jelly jar and the one who once put them there.
Ephesians 4:2 (NLT) “Always be humble and gentle. Be patient with each other, making allowance for each other's faults because of your love.”
Colossians 3:13 (NLT) “Make allowance for each other's faults, and forgive anyone who offends you. Remember, the Lord forgave you, so you must forgive others.”
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by: diane.connis@gmail.com
 He’s gone. Just like that. Suddenly. No suspicion. No warning. No alert. He came home from the office, changed his clothes, cleaned the pool, took the trash to the road. It was a typical day like any other. I left to do some errands and he was fine. When I came home my husband was dead. I wonder what it was like for him to be here alone, those last few minutes, when breath left his body. I wonder if I could have helped him or saved him somehow if I’d been home instead of wheeling a cart up and down store aisles trying to decide what we’d have for dinner next week. He was my partner in life. We depended on each other and I wasn’t there when he most needed me. And there was no way for either of us to know I needed to be. There was no way for us to know our life together was ending that day. There was no time to say goodbye. I don’t know how to process this. It haunts me in the night hours. I can’t stop thinking about it. Maybe I never will. It has changed me. Drastically. Do other’s look and see a sadder version of the same Diane? I‘m not the same. Something has shifted. On the inside, I don’t recognize myself. I‘m a totally different me. Time flies away. We live like there’s no tomorrow. We plan as if we’ll be here forever. But we won’t. The day finally comes when its over and we move on to eternity. Now listen, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money.” Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. Instead, you ought to say, “If it is the Lord’s will, we will live and do this or that. James 4:13-15. Love like there’s no tomorrow. Do and say the things that need to be said everyday. Don’t live as if this is all there is. Live with eternity in mind, always, because we never know when we’ll have to say goodbye. Or if we’ll even have that chance.
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by: diane.connis@gmail.com
 Chestnuts roasting on an open fire? Not at our house. Jack Frost rarely nips at our nose (nor do we ever dream of a white Christmas), since we live in Florida. A few Yuletide carols may be sung by a choir at our Christmas service, but since Trinity is a non-traditional, contemporary church, even that's debatable. We will have a turkey this year, but no mistletoe and no tiny tots hanging around with their eyes all aglow. Just a Jon who gets up when he feels like it and takes five hours to open ten gifts. According to this picture perfect Christmas song, our chances for a Merry Christmas are poor indeed. We score about one and a half out of five. Are you feeling it right now because your Christmas isn't Hollywood perfect? Cheer up, the first one wasn't any better: An unwed, teenage mother. No baby shower, but plenty of rumors. A disgraced marriage. An annoying, inconvenient, tax-registering trip. A baby born in a barn (with no nurse, diapers or cradle). Scruffy shepherds as newborn visitors. A jealous king sending out spies and assassins. An emergency escape by night to another country. The truth of Christmas is that God willingly jumped over-His-head-deep into the chaos of earth's struggles. The First Christmas was so...human. It was scandalous. It was messy. It was so earthly, many passed right on by. And because His arrival seemed nondescript to most, people missed its significance. And still do.  If it's not "The Most Wonderful Time of the Year" for you and a Norman Rockwell or Thomas Kinkade Christmas depiction is not happening where you are; happiness disregards you, money is tight, relationships stressed, someone deeply loved is gone and greatly missed, or possibly your only Christmas wish this year is for yourself or a sick loved one to heal, there's no need to collapse in despair. No need to feel alone. No need to be paralyzed with fear. Real life doesn't stop for Christmas. BUT! Christmas came to invade every detail of our messy human existence and inundate whatever is occurring in our personal universe at the moment. God came to us as one of us and He understands. He will walk with us through it all if we let Him. Stop, surrender and make room for Him this Season. And have yourself a Very Merry Messy Christmas now! "Christ, by highest heaven adored; Christ, the everlasting Lord; Late in time behold him come, Offspring of the Virgin's womb. Veiled in flesh the Godhead see; Hail the incarnate Deity, Pleased as man with man to dwell; Jesus, our Emmanuel! Hark! the herald angels sing Glory to the newborn King!" Home For the Holidays - painting by Norman Rockwell, 1950 Christmas Cottage - painting by Thomas Kinkade, 1990 "Hark The Herald Angels Sing," Charles Wesley, 1739
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by: diane.connis@gmail.com
I watched it, from my kitchen window, fluttering against the screen, desperate to get out. The butterfly was trapped. It flew in through the large roof opening of our pool frame, a hole the hurricane left behind when a screen came loose in the wind.  The butterfly showed no interest in the array of flowers we've planted inside, it wanted out and bumped along the side panels until it needed to rest, finally clinging to the screen instead of flying against it. I dried my hands, grabbed a Rubbermaid container and lid and went out on the deck. I figured if I could trap it inside the container I could set it free, but it flew off before I could catch it. I grabbed the pool scoop, the thing that looks like a large butterfly net, and followed the creature, gently swiping at it as it darted and glided above my head. Opening the screen doors on each end of the enclosure, I attempted to guide it to freedom, but it flew too high or darted away in another direction. Butterfly obviously didn't understand my good intentions. It couldn't believe I was concerned for its welfare, though several times it was only inches from the open door. "You're so close! Come on Butterfly. Work with me. I know this is scary for you but I'm trying to help you here. Why can't you understand, I'm just trying to help you be free?" Eventually the butterfly exhausted itself and rested again, on a side screen, within reach and I gingerly set the Rubbermaid container over it and slid the lid underneath. The frightened creature panicked and crashed violently against the walls of the plastic prison. I carefully carried it outside, far away from the pool enclosure and lifted the lid. The butterfly burst from captivity and soared away above the trees in a joyous dance of freedom. In every place where my mind, heart and soul are trapped, every obstacle I so violently and fearfully bump up against, every towering wall I encounter with no escape, God is on a continuous rescue mission to set me free. He is there waiting, as I kick against my prison walls, believing I must find my own way out. He longs to show me how to soar. He patiently moves me closer to the open door, closer to liberty, while my heart flutters in fear and my soul lifts in pride. My Merciful Father patiently waits until I retreat in exhaustion and there, submit to the gentle nudge of His heart to my own. "Come on Daughter. Work with me. I know this looks scary and you don't understand, but I'm trying to help you. I'm just trying to set you free. Trust Me." With gentle restriction He apprehends me, changes me, and then sets me free to rise above the challenges of my own thoughts, heart and life. Wings are not meant to fly against obstacles, but over them. Wings take us places we can't normally go. Wings are meant for freedom. Today, I submit to God's capture. I will Trust Him, because soon, confinement will be over. Freedom will come at last. And I will soar. Isaiah 40:31(NKJ) “but they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings..” Acts 26:14-15 (AMP) “ And when we all had fallen to the ground, I heard a voice in the Hebrew dialect saying to me, ‘Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting Me? It is hard for you to kick [repeatedly] against the goads [offering pointless resistance].’ And I said, ‘Who are You, Lord?’ And the Lord said, ‘I am Jesus..” Galatians 5:1 (ERV) “We have freedom now, because Christ made us free. So stand strong in that freedom. Don’t go back into slavery again.” John 8:36 (ESV) “So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed.”
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by: diane.connis@gmail.com
 I awoke at 3:42 AM in a heart racing panic and find myself at this place more often than I care to admit. It weighs heavy in the back of my mind, no matter how I try to push it away, the unknown haunts me. What will become of my son when we are no longer here? With the passing of every year, every birthday, his and mine, the question looms larger. So I guess it's confession time. It's time for me to admit, to say it out loud; I don't trust God in this. My re-occurring fear and worry prove it. I'm convinced no one will take care of him as well as I do, after all I Am Mom and have invested most of my life here. Other than Mike, who else will care enough to do that? I don't know and the not knowing eats at me, plagues me and some days, consumes me. Trusting God with a child is a tall order for any parent. We are so hands on, heart invested, all in, with our kids and it's easy to default back to a place of worry. But a child, who needs continual, life time supervision and assistance, elevates investment levels to exponential heights. So often I feel like the dad who brought his son to Jesus and cried out, "Lord, I believe, help my unbelief!" Maybe Jesus understands this parental desperation more than we know. He healed the boy in spite of dad's wavering faith. And that gives me hope. I've thought a lot about faith. What is it? How does it work? What should it look like in my life? Honest questions from a girl who grew up in a church culture equating struggle, disaster, illness, and tragedy with a condemning lack of faith; feeling failure and shame whenever my sunshine, lollipops and rainbow life disappeared behind onimous black clouds for a season. Understanding what it means to really trust God has been a huge re-learning process for me. I've seen His unlimited goodness and faithfulness through the years, in both the easy and hard places of my life, but realize I'm still lacking when it comes to radically abandoned trust. I've also lived long enough in my Heavenly Father's amazing grace to understand we are always in process. Every day and every situation brings new opportunities for my faith to rise to higher levels. An infant isn't a full grown adult one week, one month or even a year after he is born. He grows incrementally day after day, over the span of many years. And we don't condemn him for it. A twenty year old will not have the wisdom and experience of a seventy year old. Full maturity comes with time and age. We know instinctively this is the natural order of things, yet we Christ followers can beat ourselves and others up when we are not spiritual giants overnight. Wayne Jacobsen ( thegodjourney.com) put it like this: "I like the process of God winning us to trust. It's not that we should trust Him or have to act like we trust Him even where we don't. God wins us...I think life puts us in different points of extremity..but those opportunities when He says, "OK, we're going to go deeper here, you're going to get to learn to trust Me more"...I think all of my days I'm still going to find myself in places going, "OK, my trust doesn't extend here yet, but God let it." Maybe that's the Author and Finisher of our faith, He's going to grow it into a reality...the faith I live in today was not mine to produce but [grew as] I cooperated with Him." When Jesus calls out his followers with, "Oh, you of little faith," we see it as a negative, a criticism, a scolding, but maybe it was more of a reminder than a rebuke. After all, He said we only need faith the size of a mustard seed to throw a mountain into the sea (Matthew 17:20). A mustard seed is slightly larger than a grain of sand. That's tiny! Could He be telling us we don't need as much as we think, we just need to exercise what we already have and watch it produce? After all He does the work, the miracle, the impossible. We just do the believing. There's a tension, a balance, between planning for the future and worrying over it and our manual for living, the Bible, addresses both. Proverbs 6:6-8 tells us to consider the ant who stores up and plans for the days ahead. Jesus tells us to consider the lilies who don't fret or toil but are clothed in beauty by the Provider of all things (Luke 2:27-40). While we plan as much as possible for Jon's future, we must trust God with the rest. We do our part and believe He will do His, because He always has. Today, I absorb what Apostle Paul stated in Philippians 4:6-7, into my heart, mind and spirit, "Never worry about anything. But in every situation let God know what you need in prayers and requests while giving thanks. Then God’s peace, which goes beyond anything we can imagine, will guard your thoughts and emotions through Christ." So Lord, today, I give Jon and his future back to You. Once again, I lay him at your feet and place him in Your capable hands, knowing You have a good plan already in mind for him. I thank You for it, even in my inability to see or control it. I may need to do this again tomorrow and the next day and the day after that, Father, but I offer my mustard seed faith to you, thankful for Your patience while it grows into larger trust I have yet to obtain. Lord, I believe. Please touch those places in me where I don't believe, those areas filled with doubt, worry and fear. I give them, along with my son, to You and thank You for never giving up on me but continuously calling me into Your amazing faith, trust and peace. Today I choose I choose Faith. Today I choose Trust. Today I choose You! "Never be afraid to trust an unknown future to a known God." ~Corrie Ten Boom Romans 15:13 "May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope." Proverbs 6:6-8 "Go to the ant, you sluggard; consider its ways and be wise! It has no commander, no overseer or ruler, yet it stores its provisions in summer and gathers its food at harvest." Luke 12:27 “Consider the lilies how they grow: they toil not, they spin not; and yet I say unto you, that Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these." Matthew 6:34 "Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."
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by: diane.connis@gmail.com
Our son, David, texted me from Wisconsin, where he, Clara and little grandson, Asa, were at Clara's parents for the week with the rest of her siblings, their spouses and kids for a family gathering.  David's text said Asa was meeting his many cousins for the first time. Without much thought my reply was, "That's fun, because he'll never have any on this side." "Yeah, I've been thinking about that." He responded. It hadn't hit me until this moment; David's children will never have cousins from our side of the family. It was another 'never' moment in our life with Jon and I was suddenly saddened with a loss I fought for several days. Loss always brings varying levels of grief and comes in many forms, through death, rejection, betrayal, disappointment, regret, hijacked hope, disabled dreams or what could have been. We swim in this deep ocean of life, joyfully splashing, serenely floating or treading water, when loss washes over us like an unexpected wave. We're swept under by its powerful force, breathless and fearful, struggling to find air and a way to resurface. I don't know, maybe other parents of special needs kids do this better than me, but I still experience blindsided takeovers in my life with Jon. I'm buzzing along in our daily thing, trusting God, thankful for the blessings we have when it hits again, another huge wave, reminding me of more 'nevers'. You'd think after all these years I'd see it coming but they still catch me off guard. My heart sinks, panic and desperation threaten. I spit and sputter and cry out to God, once again, asking to be pulled from the depths of despondency. And He does. He always does. He reminds me He understands my mother's heart. He assures me He is there to bring me through. And He keeps His promises. When the wave subsides I rise again and get back to the good in life, looking on the bright side with a completely full, instead of half empty cup, counting my blessings instead of my lack. Asa won't have cousins here it's true, but he will have grandparents who love him. And because he has Uncle Jon in his life he will grow, as did his father, to be kinder, gentler, more compassionate and more accepting of other's differences. Our grandson will be shaped and influenced by the unique dynamic of our family in ways others cannot offer. Each of us have opportunities to dwell on the can't, the won't and the never. Yours are probably different than mine but we all have them. It's human to be pulled under the waves of despair at times but it's NEVER okay to stay there. Drowning is certainly an option, but not a good one. Ecclesiastes 3:1, says there's a season for everything, so we do our grieving, kicking and flailing, then grasp the hand God extends beneath the turbulent waters of living, resurface, breathe and move on. “Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they will not overwhelm you.." Isaiah 43:1-2. Here’s one ‘never’ I can rejoice in. There's never a need to drown in despair! My God possesses perfect life guarding skills. He will always carry me back to solid ground. Psalm 40:2 “He lifted me out of the pit of despair, out of the mud and the mire. He set my feet on solid ground and steadied me as I walked along.” Psalm 42:11 "Why are you in despair, O my soul? And why have you become disturbed within me? Hope in God, for I shall yet praise Him, the help of my countenance and my God." Ecclesiastes 3:1 "For everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven..”
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by: diane.connis@gmail.com
I rarely remember my dreams, but the one I have of my son, Jon, is always the same. He is lost. He might be any age and in different surroundings but he is always lost. And I am always looking for him. And I can never find him. And no one around me cares enough to help me look. I hate this dream. I hate the panic and the helplessness of it. I hate that after thirty six years I still have it. I've come to believe this dream says a lot more about me than it does my son. Even though I have come to accept and love Jon for who he is, I think there is still a deep inside part of me that struggles with how this turned out. I had expectations. I wanted different. I wanted more.  I saw the same guilt-panic in my son and daughter-in-law while visiting them recently. Their newborn son cries, a lot. Better described, he screams. He balls up his little fists, kicks his legs, flails his cute little arms, turns deep shades of red and wails himself inconsolable. And they feel guilty. Why isn't he happy? What are we doing wrong? This isn't supposed to be like this. Parenting is indescribably wonderful and can also be overwhelmingly scary. Kids don't come with a step one, step two, step three, instruction manual like those for assembling a boxed set piece of furniture. Don't we wish it was that easy? Their manual is more like the one I recently received with a new small appliance I purchased, "Caution! Do not....," a list of warnings; I had to figure out how to actually use the thing on my own. Is it this button or this one? Does it take a battery or not? Hmmm.... All parents deal with some level of guilt. It comes with the job. Most of us don't know what we're doing when we start and those who think they do soon find out it's SO different when the kid is yours. It sounds good in the parenting book we read and the advice of a zillion experts we've heard, but now that you're up to your eyebrows in parenting, it's not that simple. All of us feel, at some time in the process, "I don't know what to do. I could have done more. I could have tried harder. I could have been better at that. I shouldn't have said that. I should have realized. I am failing/have failed my child." Parent guilt can worry about the infant who won't stop crying, worry about the teen who won't listen anymore and worry about the adult who is making wrong choices. Parent guilt can exhaust itself on extra activities, buys kids stuff they don't need and avoid disciplining a child who is desperate for it. Parent guilt sees failure rather than success. It sees the problem instead of solutions. It keeps our mind in a state of unrest rather than peace. I believe parents of children with special needs battle the guilt demon more than most. I hear it in the Facebook posts, read it in their blogs and see it in their eyes. We never feel we do/did enough. Maybe the next treatment, medication, behavior plan, professional or therapy will make a difference. We are a driven, guilt-laden bunch, always looking for another help, another hope, and another solution. The guilt twinge is real when I read about the person with Down syndrome who is getting married, or the one modeling on New York runways, or the one who owns a restaurant, or how about the guy with autism working for Microsoft? I have to remind myself that these are often the exception not the rule. On our best day we have no guarantee how our kids will turn out but they basically need what all of us long for: love, acceptance, boundaries, food, shelter and most of all, God. The greatest thing we can ever do for our child is help them understand the God shaped hole inside them, only their Creator's love can fill. The other best thing we can do is say I'm sorry when we mess up and forgive ourselves for being less than perfect. In spite of us, and maybe because of us, our children are quite resilient and they don't need perfect parents. What they need is forgiving and forgiven parents. Loose the guilt. It's a parenting accessory neither we nor our kids need. Love and forgiveness always win and inevitably chase the guilt demons far away. 1 John 4:18 "There is no fear in love but perfect love drives out fear.." Romans 8:1 "So now there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus for the law of the Spirit of life has set you free.." Psalm 127:3 "Children are a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb a reward."
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by: diane.connis@gmail.com
 It's no one's fault," the doctor in my hospital room said, the morning after our son was born. "These things just happen sometimes." Our newborn baby had Down syndrome and as the doctor began to explain the possible long term outcomes for him and our family, my heart raced in panic. My mind filled with a cloud of fear. "NO! This can't be happening! Not to my baby! Not to me! Not to us!" Isn't that how it goes when we're faced with circumstances beyond our control? When our carefully thought out plans are suddenly ambushed? We're cruising through life, a few bumps and glitches here and there, but nothing we can't handle. Then suddenly..Wham!! We find, not just the proverbial rug pulled out from under us, but the floor too. The ground has just opened up and swallowed us whole! And when we're done free-falling, we have to find a reason. The 'Why' must be answered. It has to be SomeOne's or SomeThing's fault. A friend sent me a card once that read, “Life is all about how you handle Plan B.” Plan A is what you want. Plan B is what you get and I wasn’t dealing well at all, with what I got. I fell into absolute despair trying to figure out what I did to cause my child's disability. For months it filled every waking moment and many sleepless nights. Those pesky, "I should have" and "I shouldn't have" scenarios, plagued my thoughts constantly. There was plenty of help in the guilt department from well meaning folks. Everything from, "You should of eaten more potatoes while you were pregnant," (no kidding) to "You must have bad sin hiding someplace in your life for God to punish you like this." Apparently there was a rash of babies born with Down syndrome at the time. In an attempt to find a common denominator (or something to blame) the Department of Health and Human Services for the State of New York called when Jon was about a month old to ask if they could survey me. "Do you live near power lines? How long have you lived there?" "Have you ever taken drugs? Did you take drugs while pregnant?" "How often do you drink alcohol? Never? Occasionally? Once a week? Everyday?" "What kind of make up do you wear? What brand of laundry detergent do you use?" After an hour long barrage of questions, I hung up the phone more convinced than ever I was the cause of my son's diagnosis. When I finally gave up blaming myself I turned my angst on God. He could have prevented this but didn't. It was His fault and I was mad. What kind of God did I believe in anyway? An overwhelmingly devastating question for me, since we were fresh out of Bible college and my husband was just beginning a lifetime of pastoral ministry. Though it seemed artificial to be so angry at God when my husband was a pastor, and I, the pastor’s wife, anger was all that made sense at the time. It was the easiest life raft to cling to. We see it in the daily news continuously. A crisis occurs, a shooting, tornado, flood, fire, mudslide, plane crash, death, violence or destruction. The talking heads start in, opinion-ating, analyzing, philosophizing and finally conclude with, "Something must be done to make sure this never happens again." Either people want to believe they have this much power, this much control, or placing blame is just a coping mechanism for the unanswerable and unexplained. Sometimes there is someone to blame but more often not. Sometimes stuff just happens because we live on a fallen, broken and sin cursed planet. Finding possible solutions is useful but the blame game often goes around in a monotonous circle until we are divided and estranged, from each other and from our only source of hope. God. It seems God is blamed for most everything that goes wrong, by people who barely acknowledge His existence the rest of the time or bother to thank Him for any of the good and right in life. In his book, Reframe. From the God We've Made to the God With Us, Brian Hardin said it this way: "We don’t usually start with God, but if we can’t find an answer we often end up there. God has become the cosmic trash heap for all humankind’s unexplainable suffering. He’s apparently got His hands in everything from tornadoes to human trafficking. From cancer to the reason the car wouldn’t start this morning. And this is the God we’re supposed to be in a relationship with?" If there's one thing I've learned, it's this: I can't control everything that happens to me, to those I care about or to the world at large. And I don't have to figure everything out, don't have to know all the answers. I only have to admit and own what I'm responsible for and trust my Heavenly Daddy has a greater plan and purpose than I can see. He will bring justice in His time. He will make everything right in His way and acceptance of this truth, deep in my heart and soul, not just my head, brings peace in a frenzied world. And for all my initial distress, despair, crying, sighing, shouting and blaming, my son turned out to be a blessing, a unique treasure God values and loves. Someone who is always teaching me the art of selflessness, drawing me closer to the heart of my Father. I eventually laid it down, the miserable scrutinizing, finger pointing and fretting over who or what was at fault. It was exhausting and served no purpose. Blaming drained life from me and returned nothing. The blame game was over and I lost. But I'm no longer a sore looser, just a grateful one. Job 40:1-5 The Lord said to Job: “Will the one who contends with the Almighty correct him? Let him who accuses God answer him!” Then Job answered the Lord: “I am unworthy—how can I reply to you? I put my hand over my mouth. I spoke once, but I have no answer—twice, but I will say no more.” Romans 9:20 "Who do you think you are to talk back to God like that? Can an object that was made say to its maker, “Why did you make me like this?” John 16:33 "I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.”
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by: diane.connis@gmail.com
 I was packing for a week long cruise, the first real vacation Mike and I have had together in fifteen years. It was a celebration of forty years of marriage and a long overdue get away. Our good friends had made time in their busy schedule to stay with Jon and our youngest son and his wife were joining us. Though we were excitedly looking forward to this time together, it was another family event Jon would miss and I was, again, contending with guilt attacks and assaults of sadness. I sent my conflicting emotions to the back room of my mind and updated the long list of Jon care instructions, made sure his prescriptions were filled, printed out a medical authorization letter and remembered to leave his insurance and ID card and keys to all the places we keep Jon-locked. After boarding the ship I knew bringing him would have been a disaster. Too many people, long lines, moments of hurrying then waiting, decks that didn't go all the way through the length of the ship causing creative strategies to find our way around, debarking for ports and making spontaneous plans and last minute decisions for the day then hurrying back to the ship on time so it didn't leave without us. Transitions. Transitions. More transitions. Something Jon never does well. There were other moments when we thought of him. "Jon would love this," we said. The never ending buffet, the puffer fish shaped cup wheeled by on a drink cart, the magician at our dinner table doing coin tricks, the casino and it's never ending spread of pricey "video games", a giant floating hotel to wander through and him curiously and slowly poking in every corner, nook and cranny. As we sat together at dinner each evening there was contentment in this extraordinary setting. Even our little grandson was along, growing inside the swelling womb of my daughter-in-law. But one of us was missing. My family was incomplete. There are random moments in life that trigger twinges of loss, a mourning for what should, but never will be. We are forever fighting enemies of guilt, regret and loss and constantly rising to new levels of acceptance. Acceptance is defined as an assent to the reality of a situation, recognizing a situation without attempting to protest or change it. It is derived from a Latin word meaning "to find rest in." Some things we can't control or change, we can only accept, but it’s often difficult to find a place of rest in circumstances beyond us. Living out of the 'what ifs' and 'if onlys' is pure misery and leaning into the, "Are you kidding me? I'm supposed 'to find rest in' this!" is hard work, but peace can only come with relaxing into the 'what is'. Even when life is great, it's still not perfect. On this cruise, we had to circumvent a hurricane and miss the most anticipated stop of the trip. While sailing on the far reaching edge of the storm, walking turned into a balancing act and we were woken in the night by rocking, rattling and clicking sounds and drawers, in our room, sliding open then thumping shut as soon as sleep came again. I was nearly attacked by a banana loving iguana on a Saint Thomas beach and every day was a bad hair day. But it was easy to overlook these uncontrollable situations in the anticipation and excitement of another sunrise and new adventures. Life sails on like a cruise. We board at birth and debark when taking our final breath. There are stops along the way, new places to explore, ports to experience. Some we appreciate, others not so much. Some we never wish to see again and others we hope for, but never experience when an unexpected storm changes the direction of our journey. There are long days at sea, as we're carried along, waiting, and trusting the Captain of our ship knows where we're headed and how to safely reach our destination. With God at the helm we are offered guilt free, acceptance-based cruising and a place to find rest in the storm. It’s the best way to travel and it’s never too late to book a lifelong trip. So don’t wait. Start now. Guaranteed, you'll love the adventure. "Jesus Savior, pilot me Over life's tempestuous sea Unknown waves before me roll Hiding rock and treacherous shoal Chart and compass come from thee Jesus, Savior, pilot me." ~ Edward Hopper, 1871 "God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference." "Come unto me..and I will give you rest." ~Jesus, Matthew 11:28~
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by: diane.connis@gmail.com
"Do unto others as they have done to you?" There are many times in life, relationships and circumstances we secretly wish Jesus had actually said it that way and more often than we like to admit, we react as if He did (Matthew 7:12). Here's what I know: People can disappoint  People can hurt People can reject People can ignore People can ridicule People can neglect People can be selfish People can be disloyal People can be harsh People can be intolerant People can be heartless People can be cruel People can be...just fallen, broken, messed-up people. So how do we respond when others become these 'People Can' folks? What is our reaction when people don't rise to the level of our expectations? The human tendency is to recoil, withdraw, take out a mental permanent marker and cross them off our internal, 'people-I-just-might-continue-to-like' list. I've said it and many times heard others say it, "They did/said ________. That's it! I'm done with them!" We wash our angry, offended hands of them and walk away; maybe not literally, but emotionally. We build walls, barriers and keep them distant; at the extreme fringe of our consciousness. They are cast to the outside of our tiny circle and are greeted, if it all, with a stiff jaw, hard heart and an icy attitude. Obviously, I'm not referring to abusive, immoral or illegal relationships. There may be people we need out of our life to vastly improve its' outcome. Go ahead and pray for these as you walk away. But in the everyday interactions between co-workers, friends, family, spouse, fellow believers and the cashier in the checkout line, we can be so easily offended, so quick to write others off. The truth is God did not write us off. He should have. We certainly deserve it. He did this instead: "For God so loved the world He gave..." John 3:16 "While we were yet sinners Christ died for us." Romans 5:8 "Father forgive them they don't know what they're doing." Luke 23:34 And if God, my Creator, did this for us, we can do no less for others. Jesus, our pattern and example of God walking and living on the earth said: "For if you forgive other people when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you." Matthew 6:14 "This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you." John 15:12 "By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” John 13:35 "Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you..." Matthew 5:44 In other words, "Do what I do. Treat others, not as they deserve, but in the same way I have treated you." He’s never turned his back on us, but gave it to the lash of scorners. He’s never walked away from us, but stumbled up a dusty hill, carrying the same tree that took His life. He’s never washed his hands of us, but allowed them to be pierced with nails of redemption. He’s never crossed us off his list, but hung on a cross to prove He will never stop reaching for us. This isn't a fuzzy, mushy, lollipops and sunshine sorta’ love. It's a, “This is hard and I don't feel like it, but it’s the right thing to do," kind of love (Luke 22:42). It's a love that puts relationship over being right. And a love, not for romantic, starry-eyed whimps, but for spirit led soldiers who will take up their cross and follow Him. "So in EVERYTHING, do to others what you WOULD HAVE them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets" Matthew 7:12. The addition of a few extra words changes everything. My prayer today, is they will also change me and you.
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by: diane.connis@gmail.com
 Cleaning Jon's room makes me mad! I'm confessing, putting it out here for all to read. Every time I clean his room I battle a huge bad attitude. One way to deal with my anger has been to give it a name, "The Landfill", and to play worship music on my iPad as loudly as possible while cleaning. The past few days we've been seeing little gnat things flying around the house and couldn't figure out where they were coming from. I do a quick check in Jon's room every other day or so, making sure nothing's growing or moving that shouldn't be and about once a week, do a more thorough clean and sheet change. Yesterday, I decided it was "Landfill" cleaning day. Mike was home so he helped me with the vacuuming and I was sorting through Jon's usual piles of stuff on the floor and in crates making sure everything was kosher, when I found it buried under a pile of stuffed animals, a personal size Rubbermaid cooler that he had taken from a cabinet in the laundry room. I opened it to see what was inside and a fleet of gnats flew up in my face. After they lifted off, I noticed the bottom of the cooler was alive and moving with hundreds of little gnat larva. They were living off some sort of food science experiment growing in there. Horrified, I screamed, slammed the top shut, grabbed it, ran to the front door and heaved the cooler as hard as I could into the yard. I slammed the front door closed and jumped around in the foyer for a few minutes, totally grossed out, itching, shaking and hollering, trying to get hallucinatory gnats off of me. Once that subsided, incredible anger took its place. I stomped into the kitchen and yelled at Jon for two minutes straight while he stared at me like I'd just lost my mind then I went back in his room, still freaking out, and tried to tell Mike I'd found the source of our gnat invasion. "I can't hear anything you're saying. You've got the music so loud it sounds like a Pentecostal church service in here. Turn it down so I can hear you." Mike hollered over the music. I yelled back, "Listening to that music is the only way I get through cleaning this room so you best be glad it's playing. I'm so mad right now if that music shuts off I'm gonna’ smack someone, and hard!" We scrubbed the daylights out of Jon's room for the next hour. I reluctantly searched every nook, cranny, box, crate, bag and pile in there and in his bathroom. I threw every thread of bedding and fabric I could find in the washing machine and got Jon in the shower. He even let me wash his hair, possible penance for what he'd just put me through, though I'll never know for sure. A few hours later, after I was sure everything was clean and back in order, I finally calmed down. Last night I prayed. Though yesterday’s clean was more than unusual, I asked God to show me why I become so angry every time I clean Jon's room. God knows my heart better than I, and I want to understand what is triggering this anger inside of me. The answer came in my prayer as I poured my heart out before my Heavenly Daddy. "He's thirty five, I shouldn't have to still clean his room and it's not fair that I do. We should be empty nesters now and only cleaning kid messes after grandchildren visit." As much as I love my son, cleaning his room is evidence that this didn't turn out as I'd hoped and hope disappointed triggers many reactions and emotions. We often don’t recognize their source. Like we didn't know where the gnats were coming from, I didn't know where my anger was coming from until I searched, until I asked. Now that I know, God and I can start working on it together; one more area where grace can replace reaction, where a servant heart can replace selfishness. Recognizing my shortcoming is the first step. Asking God to help me change is the second. He loves me too much to leave me as I am, yet He is gentle enough to expose and change my selfish heart one layer at a time, even if it takes a plague of gnats to motivate me. Confession is good so I pray I'll soon have a heart of joy and a song of praise at all times, even in "The Landfill". But. Please. Lord. (Shivverrrr) minus all creepy, crawly, cringy, critter things! Psalm 139:23-24 "Search me, O God, and know my heart: try me, and know my thoughts: And see if there be any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting." Ephesians 4:26 "Be angry and sin not, don't let the sun go down on your wrath or give place to the devil." James 5:16 "Confess your faults one to another, and pray one for another, that you may be healed."
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by: diane.connis@gmail.com
 I drove halfway up the driveway before noticing Jon didn’t have his seat belt on, so I stopped the car and put it in park. “Please put your seat belt on, Jon.” He glared at the floor and snarled, “Leave me alone!” “You want to be left alone? Ok then.” I put the car in reverse and backed it up to the garage, where we’d just come from. “You want to be left alone? Then get out of the car right now and go back in the house.” I stared at him. He stared at the floor. We sat in silence for a minute. “You either get your seat belt on and loose the attitude or get out of this car. I’m going out to have a nice time and I don’t need any grumpys coming along to wreck it.” I said firmly. The scowl on my son’s face relaxed and he reached for the seat belt and slowly clicked it in place. I thanked him and off we went. On the way to our destination, I decided to remind him why seat belts are not an option. I began to explain in simple language I knew he understood, that wearing one is the law and how they save lives in case of an accident. As I was talking he reached out and turned the radio volume up. “So you don’t want to hear what you need to know, is that it, Jon?” I reached over and turned the radio down. “You don’t want me to talk? Well, I won’t quit talking ‘till I’m dead. So you might as well get used to it.” He reached over to turn the radio back up but not before I heard him mutter, “Hope that hurries up.” I desperately tried not to laugh. Something so hurtful can be hilarious coming from Jon. He doesn’t talk much but he sure doesn’t pussy foot around about how he feels. At thirty five, when confronted with his inappropriate behavior, he’s often like a moody, bad attitude teenager who forgot to grow up. I glanced at him as I drove and answered lightly, “Because you just said that, God is now going to make sure I live forever.” A barely-there smile crossed his lips and he turned to look out the window so I wouldn’t see it. This is what I know. Sometimes, people I care about say words that are less than loving. Get over it! Sometimes, people I love are hurtful. Get over it! Sometimes those I try to help, lash back. Get over it! Sometimes those I most want love, acceptance and approval from, disappoint. Get over it! If Jesus, who was nailed to a tree, and in the excruciating pain and suffering of his final breath could declare, “Father forgive them, they don’t know what they’re doing,” for those who hung Him there, I have no right to hold an offense against those who do less to me. I’m learning from my Savior and my son how to get over it! Getting over offense is a choice we constantly make. Everyday and in all situations. Will I hold on to the hurt and add it to my growing list of offenses? Will I choose bitterness and bondage or forgiveness and freedom? Will I choose to stop taking every word, action and reaction personally? Will I choose to stop being overly sensitive. Will I choose to let go? When I pray for strength I don’t have, God’s grace meets me at the point of my choice. I then see others through His eyes and with His heart. Broken. Bruised. Damaged. Valuable. Forgiven. Deserving of love. Worthy of redemption. Just like me. So. Get. Over. It! “The first to apologize is the bravest. The first to forgive is the strongest. The first to forget is the happiest.” ~Unknown~ Matthew 18:21 Peter came up to the Lord and asked, “How many times should I forgive someone who does something wrong to me? Is seven times enough?”22 Jesus answered: Not just seven times, but seventy-seven times! Colossians 3:13 Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. Ephesians 4:31-32 Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.
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by: diane.connis@gmail.com
 It's July 4th. Independence Day. The great American holiday. People are celebrating the founding of our nation by going to the park, the lake, the beach, to a cookout with friends, a get together with family, or to a fireworks display. Before or after a holiday the common question is, "What are you doing/did you do for the holiday?" My answer is always the same. "Depends on Jon." or, "Stayed home with Jon." We're often invited to something, somewhere by someone on these special occasions. It's not that friends purposely leave us out. "Oh just bring Jon with you," they say. And it's not that we don't want to go, we just never make it. Jon doesn't care about being on time or if it's July 4 th. He doesn't like crowds or fireworks. Last night, as the neighbors set fireworks off all around us, he stayed in his room yelling, "Shut Up!" over and over again at the outdoors. So others go and we stay home, learning how to celebrate without joining the masses of those 'going' and 'doing'. Because of this, I appreciate the true meaning of holidays in ways I never use to. Limits force what is taken for granted, to a place of greater meaning. Today has been a day of simplicity. I've looked up some 'reminding myself' history on the founding of our nation and listened to several renditions of "The Star Spangled Banner" on YouTube. We fertilized and watered all our plants then, surrounded by their colorful beauty, cooled off by floating in the pool for a while, We broke away from our mostly plant food eating plan to celebrate in proper, God Bless the USA, style. Mike went to the store to look for no nitrate, no msg, no hormone, all beef hot dogs (hot dogs and rolls taste so much better when you hardly ever eat them!) and devoured them with corn on the cob and watermelon. Americans are often bored and dissatisfied unless something monumental is going on. I know. I was one of those. Once. Going. Always going. Doing. Always doing. Restless. Wanting. Miserable. Be careful of a mindset that says we must constantly do huge, exciting things to enjoy life. It's not true. Don’t fall for the lie. Most of us have a lot of what we want and everything we need, so be thankful in the still and overlooked moments and, in spite of our troubles and problems, the blessing of living in the greatest nation on planet Earth. If you're out somewhere celebrating our American Independence today, enjoy. But don't forget to take time to remember what you're celebrating. And don't forget to explain it to your children so they can develop a sense of significance and appreciation for the day. If the meaning behind this day is important to you it will be important to them as well. The gift of freedom should never be undervalued nor should learning the art of contentment in going or staying, being or doing, having or wanting. Don’t live out of the constant dissatisfaction of What Is Not. Instead discover the joy and fulfillment of living in What Is. Right here. And right now.
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by: diane.connis@gmail.com
 Jon desperately needed a shower and shave. When I went in his room to vacuum and change his sheets, I took his iPad and told him he could have it back after he cleaned himself up. "Why don't you do that while I clean in here," I said with a smile, "then everything about you will be clean and shiny today." He scowled at me and left the room. I busied myself for the next hour picking up a variety of things from the floor: sticks, strings, marbles, batteries, dice and pens, throwing away piles of old paper he'd collected and organizing his DVD and VHS collection back on shelves. When I went to check on him he was in our bathroom. I'm never thrilled about Jon in the master bath. He gets into all our stuff when he's in there, but it's the only bathroom in the house with a tub so we allow it from time to time. Later that evening I noticed Mike's electric shaver was missing along with my pearl necklace. I knew Jon had used the shaver since he emerged from our room with his caveman beard missing. We looked in all the places he might have laid it down and didn't find it so I knocked on his door. "Jon, Dad's shaver is missing and so is my pearl necklace. If you have them would you please set them outside your door? Dad needs his shaver before he leaves for work in the morning. I was going to give back your iPad but we need those things returned first" He frowned, glared at the floor and when I left the room, threw a small object at the back of the door to emphasize his disapproval of my decision. In the morning the shaver and the necklace were lying on the hall carpet in front of his door. I thanked him and returned his iPad. Negotiating with Jon has become a survival skill I have learned over the years. He is slow and often resistant to respond to everything, including directives. The more he's pushed, the further he retreats, so I need to remain firm, calm and wait him out. When caring for someone long term, who needs help making good choices but doesn't want it, choosing which battles to engage is important for sanity's sake. Some aren't worth fighting and others are tough to resolve no matter what. Then there are those days I know I won't have the patience needed, so it's best to avoid conflict, if possible. Dealing with difficult people requires a good amount of tongue taming, self control and wisdom and all of us have plenty of opportunity to practice because we all have difficult people in our lives. How we respond to them is usually more about us then them. Because we are naturally selfish, anger is often the normal response. Our reaction is usually based, not on what will solve the problem, but how the other person is making us 'feel' at the moment. What we say at such times and just as important, how we say it, reveals who we really are. A response of great character is described in Proverbs 15:1-2 & 4, "A soft answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger. The tongue of the wise commends knowledge, but the mouths of fools pour out folly..a gentle tongue is a tree of life.." Jesus was a master at responding to others instead of reacting. He knew exactly what to say in every situation and confrontation. He also knew when to be quiet and slip away . (John 12:49 "For I have not spoken on My own, but the Father Himself who sent Me has given Me a command as to what I should say and what I should speak.") Can we begin to see the difficult folks in our lives as teachers instead of problems, opportunity for personal growth instead of someone to conquer, and a challenge to build strength of character instead of an irritation to curse? It's certainly not easy to maintain this idea! As we set our heart on the intentional practice of responding to others with grace, gentle words and quiet confidence, we find God gives us what we need to be changed from the inside out. And as we pray for help to become less reactive to difficult situations and people, it becomes natural to keep a calmness and peace about us that others notice and desire. Then we will "Be ready at any time to give a quiet and reverent answer to any man who wants a reason for the hope that you have within you..with gentleness and respect" (I Peter 3:15).
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by: diane.connis@gmail.com
Jon is into cutting. But not in the same way or for the same reasons as other people. He cuts sleeves off shirts, toes off socks, slits in the center of our bath and dish towels, legs off his father’s pants and hem strips off sheets and bed skirts.  Yesterday I took him to Dunkin Donuts/Baskin Robbins. He dressed in his finest: a sawed off sleeves, blue T-shirt with two belts tied around his waist, one made from a strip of a nice, fluffy over sized beach towel he repurposed and the other, a bright orange and white flowered cloth tie belt he took from my closet. When I'm tempted to be annoyed about this mysterious (and money wasting) behavior, I stop and remind myself to be thankful Jon's not harming himself. He has his own brand of creative fun going on in his very unusual and imaginative brain. And it's just stuff. I can always go to Walmart and buy more cheap, made-in-China towels and T-shirts for him to cut up. It's all replaceable. He isn't. Hanging out with Jon gives me an entirely different way to look at life and teaches me how to relax about little things that don't really matter. While Jon is cutting up stuff in our house, God is cutting away the Me that wants to rise up and demand life always go My way. God uses the people in our lives, yes; even those with annoying habits, to instruct us, change us and expose areas where we need to improve. There is nothing more liberating than letting go of the unrealistic expectations we have for others. Ask God to help you look at those frustrating, annoying folks around you through His eyes, with His heart. Then look inside yourself and let Him transform you so you can love freely, unconditionally and without barriers. The same way Jesus loves me and you. Philippians 2:3(ERV) “In whatever you do, don’t let selfishness or pride be your guide. Be humble, and honor others more than yourselves” Proverbs 27:17(NIV) “As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another.”
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by: diane.connis@gmail.com
Jon doesn’t care what you or I think.  He is not out to impress anyone. He doesn’t yearn for accolades or glory. The latest fashion trend does not factor into his wardrobe selection. If it’s too tight, too stiff or too much collar he won’t wear it. Give him his favorite well worn, slightly over-sized T shirts and shorts and he’s satisfied. Yet he doesn’t give a second thought to leaving the house with a beach towel wrapped around his shoulders as a cape, or wearing his karate jacket combined with a cowboy hat and fingerless gloves, or walking around with a piece of bark mulch sticking out of his hat (read about that here). Jon misses almost every cue for tact and poise and goes with how the moment moves him. Social graces and nuances are not on his resume. Every now and then he might surprise you with acknowledgement, a smile or even a handshake just to let you know you’re still on his radar screen. But if he’s not in the mood to be bothered with you, he will freeze in place. If he doesn’t like something you say to him, he will scowl. Jon can take thirty minutes or more to order at a restaurant, with the server returning to the table, nervously banging her pencil against her order pad and asking for the thirteenth time, “Is he ready now?” Are you kidding? He hasn’t even opened the menu yet and he’s not troubled in the least by her impatience. He can be so slow in a store checkout line people pile up behind us like kids in a school lunch line. You can hear them at your back, shuffling and sighing. It might embarrass you or give you an anxiety attack. But Jon has no concern for you or them. You can’t hang out with Jon all the time and fret over what people think. You just have to get over it. Approval from others is a prison Jon doesn’t visit or live in. The truth is, when you’re with Jon, you have to get over what YOU think. Your opinion ceases to exist. It becomes a mute point. Being with Jon means you’ve just signed up for approval addiction rehabilitation! Obviously, my son is on the extreme end of people skills deficiency, but he has taught me much about freedom from the grip of other’s thoughts and opinions. Most of the time they don’t matter. Jesus had his hands full with the approval addicts of his day. The religious leaders and lawyers, the Pharisees and Sadducees, were obsessed with approval. They nominated themselves as the politically correct thought police of their culture and took it very seriously. Everything they said and did was for appearance sake and everyone who didn’t walk, talk and think like them we’re viewed with contempt. Matthew 21:26 and Matthew 21:45 (see below) reveal how much they feared public opinion and worried about what others said. The Pharisees major concern was for everyone to see their self imposed importance (Matthew 23:5) and was one of the reasons Jesus told his followers to stay away from them. Ultimately our approval comes from God and we should pass every opinion through the filter of His standard for our life. He doesn’t see us as others do; for “man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart” (1 Samuel 16:7). When we’re tossed around by every idea, remark, criticism, viewpoint, trend or bit of advice we encounter, we become what everyone else thinks we should be instead of what God made us to be. Of course we need to be careful of an attitude that says, “I don’t care what you think, therefore, I don’t care about you,” but living life based solely on the praise and admiration of others is not living at all. I’ve come a long way from where I use to be, thanks to Jon, but I pray I can master the fine art of caring about others compassionately without caring what others think of me. There’s something incredibly liberating in that. Galatians 6:14 “I am going to boast about nothing but the Cross of our Master, Jesus Christ. Because of that Cross, I have been crucified in relation to the world, set free from the stifling atmosphere of pleasing others and fitting into the little patterns that they dictate.” (The Message) Ephesians 4:12-13 God’s goal is for us to become mature adults—to be fully grown, measured by the standard of the fullness of Christ. As a result, we aren’t supposed to be infants any longer who can be tossed and blown around by every wind that comes from teaching with deceitful scheming and the tricks people play to deliberately mislead others.” (Common English Bible) *Matthew 26:23 Jesus entered the temple courts, and, while he was teaching, the chief priests and the elders of the people came to him. “By what authority are you doing these things?” they asked. “And who gave you this authority?”24 Jesus replied, “I will also ask you one question. If you answer me, I will tell you by what authority I am doing these things. 25 John’s baptism—where did it come from? Was it from heaven, or of human origin? ”They discussed it among themselves and said, “If we say, ‘From heaven,’ he will ask, ‘then why didn’t you believe him?’ 26 But if we say, ‘Of human origin’—we are afraid of the people, for they all hold that John was a prophet.”27 So they answered Jesus, “We don’t know.” *Matthew 26:45 When the chief priests and the Pharisees heard Jesus’ parables, they knew he was talking about them. 46 They looked for a way to arrest him, but they were afraid of the crowd because the people held that he was a prophet.”
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by: diane.connis@gmail.com
A few years ago I realized that I was obsessing over Jon’s obsessions.  Take his room for example. At first glance it looks like a yard sale or maybe a cleaner version of a landfill. I’ve noticed a pattern to his clutter; he puts the same items back on the floor in the same piles and in the same place. You can read about that here. Any time we go out, he first fills a bag (or bags) with little items: strings, sticks, old papers, napkins and small toys. Eventually, there are so many bags in the car I can’t find the back seat. I prefer my car looking clean and spacious instead of like a Sanford and Son road show. But I’ve decided that Jon feels better when his stuff is around him. So I let it slide, for a while. When I can’t stand it anymore, I carry everything back into the landfill - his room. Then we start all over again. When he showers, he lines all his supplies up very methodically, things he needs for bathing and things he doesn’t and you better not touch any of it. Eating is a repeat. Food is placed strategically around him and after all the fussing he can wait up to an hour before taking a bite, while he draws or writes on napkins. Some of his actions seem illogical and I don't pretend to understand. I’ve had to learn to overlook and accept much of his behavior for what it is. If I allowed his fixations to constantly frustrate and aggravate me, I’d be twitching in a corner by now. Time has proved that Jon’s not going to change, so I have to. There’s no point or value in my locking horns with his obsessiveness. It only escalates, adding stress, misery and tension to an already unconventional situation. Face it, some of the things we hang on to, whether they are opinions, beliefs, material goods, expectations of others or ourselves are not useful and in the long run don't matter much, if at all. "Don't sweat the small stuff" really applies here. It's the trivial, the little pebbles in the shoe, that can hinder. How much better is it to move around the petty obstacles and keep going? Not everything is urgent and some things aren't even important. Others are non-negotiable and so critical I need the grip and tenacity of a pit bull to hold them. When I'm tired, frustrated or discouraged it’s easy to let slip those things that should remain. Knowing when to hold on and when to let go requires wisdom, discernment, consistency and prayer. It also requires change. I must be willing to adjust in areas where I'm too rigid or passive, or at least examine these and determine their validity. Is this a battle I need to win? Is this an issue I should stand firm on? Sometimes the answer is yes. Very often it is no. In all areas of life, prioritizing and simplifying, helps me live effectively and peacefully with myself and others. And in doing so I discover, as time goes by that people, circumstances and inconvenience irritate me less. I’m certain I have my son to thank for some of that. Philippians 4:6-7 “Don't worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done. Then you will experience God's peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus.” Revelation 3:2 “Wake up, and strengthen what remains and is about to die, for I have not found your works complete in the sight of my God.”
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by: diane.connis@gmail.com
Once I processed and accepted the surprise and disappointment of Jon’s initial diagnosis, I determined to help him be the most amazing person who ever had Down syndrome. I knew if I worked hard enough, fought long enough, my son would be The One to WOW the world. He would be almost ‘normal’ if not one hundred percent. He would have the life I imagined for him - acceptance, friends, a girlfriend (or maybe a wife!), his own apartment, a career and a car to drive to work. He might not become a neurosurgeon or The President, but most ‘normal’ people weren’t, so I could live with that. Working tirelessly from birth through high school and beyond, I fought for services in every available arena of mainstreaming and special education and was even instrumental in spearheading a few improvements. We accessed infant early intervention, integrated preschool, behavior assessments, speech and occupational therapy, reading programs, Special Olympics and work training programs. I never missed an IEP (Individual Education Plan) school meeting and even home schooled for several years, burning long hours into the night, researching new ways to help Jon excel at learning. Helping my son hit a high level of ability became my project and I was obsessed. My attempts to ‘fix him’ and fit him into the life my imagination had designed for him, often hindered my enjoying him as my child, especially in those early years. When my friend's toddlers said their first word, sat up, walked and potty trained on schedule and Jon didn’t, I was defeated and miserable. Obviously I wasn’t doing enough and the mommy guilt was all encompassing. Now he’s an adult and none of my imagined scenarios for Jon’s life have come to pass, even after all my years of worry and hard work. Of course, we never figured autism would be added to the equation, yet, there’s no apartment, car, career, girlfriend and few friends. There’s mostly just me and Jon.
Somewhere in the mix of my many years of ‘Jon education’ and church ministry, dealing with all types of people, I figured something out - it’s not my job to fix people - especially if my “fixing” is more about what I want than what they want or actually need.  This has been a hard lesson to learn.
Only God knows what comprises the heart of a person. It’s His job to correct. Mine is to surrender to His work both in myself and others. While God is lovingly trying to align me, I’m so busy with my attempts to straighten everyone else out that I can’t begin to see my own need. My responsibility is simply to love. If that love requires helping another improve in some way then so be it, but never should it be about someone fitting my perception of what that should look like or what I think they should become. It’s not about my attempts to line everyone up around me to my liking. Enjoying people simply for who they are sets me free from seeing them as a project or burdening relationships with my selfish agenda. Though I’m certain I have more to discover here, learning to love my son for exactly who he is, not who I hoped he'd be, and letting go of my foolish attempts to change and control others has been one of the most liberating experiences of my life. I've been surprised by the realization that freedom can come in unforeseen and unexpected ways and letting go has brought more internal peace and joy than I ever thought possible. Jon, what a wonderful teacher you are! “Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself.” ~ Leo Tolstoy “How can you say to your brother, 'Let me take the speck out of your eye,' when all the time there is a plank in your own eye?” Matthew 7:4 “So then, each of us will give an account of himself to God.” Romans 14:12 NIV
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by: diane.connis@gmail.com
I wrote this in the Fall of 2007 after our son, David, packed up and left for college. For all parents soon facing graduation and a child leaving home, this one's for you. Six years later, I guess I can say, you sort of get used to them being gone, but you never stop missing them if they don't return close to home. There is an empty place in our home today and also in my heart. David packed up his belongings and we took him six hundred and forty miles away from us to begin a new life at college.
After years of loving, holding, comforting, teaching, playing, training, giving, worrying and caring we took our child, who is one no longer, to a strange place full of strange people then drove away and left him there, watching him wave good-bye in the rear view mirror as we pointed our car towards home.
It is a very hard thing to do, this letting go, so bitter-sweet. But the bird has left the nest and the butterfly has emerged from the chrysalis. Time can not be reversed but can only go forward from here.
How am I supposed to feel? I'm really not sure. I am so conflicted with happiness for David and this new opportunity for growth and adventure, then sadness for how much I already miss him.
We drive home immersed in empty silence in a car that just a few hours ago was packed full of our son. I walk into my house and his bedroom door is closed, the room dark and quiet. No clothes piled on the floor, no rumpled blankets on the bed, no email and cell phone competing for attention, no music blaring from the stereo speakers or from one of the several guitars that once lined the walls, no crazy auburn curls emerging from all that chaos with a random joke, smile or hug.
It is eerily silent here and I feel immensely sad and lonely for this one who has brought so much joy to my days. There are others here in my home that I love just as much but they can not take his place. Not the easy, happy place that he always resides in. They can not fill the vacant space that his leaving has made inside of me because they each have a different spot in my heart.
If I truly believe that everything I have comes from God then I understand that this son was only loaned to us for a time. God entrusts us with a child and we are allowed to call him or her our own. We are expected to be good stewards of this life and assist God in making something useful of it.
So the formation begins with a parent’s persistent love and training, shaping and influencing through the years, spinning by as swiftly as the potter's wheel. We give our imperfect best to mold goodness, character, and purpose until the time when we finally take our hands off, when we must let go and see what becomes of this life we were once immersed in.
The clay is formed now and our child is responsible to make wise choices and become all that God has purposed for him. My job is finished. My eyes are no longer close by to see, nor my words instantly available to warn him of the trouble one poor decision can produce. My ears are no longer attentively tuned to the lure of the world that surrounds him. My hands are no longer the main influence shaping him. Now, in his own heart and mind, he must see, hear and understand the decisions that create an ongoing success of a life fit for The Potter’s use.
I pray we did something right in teaching him what he needs to know. I think we did, but only time will tell the end of the story. I can only hope that all of the treasure tucked away in this wonderful earthen vessel of our son will display the excellency of the power of God, and not so much of us and our human limitations and frailty.
As time marches forward and the story continues to be written, I trust that the wonder of seeing David’s life and purpose unfold will fill my very being with a greater joy, replacing all the emptiness my heart feels today. And even in this conflicting sadness, I thank God for the privilege of being His willing and humble assistant through these fleeting years.
I wouldn’t trade one moment of it for anything at all.
“But now, O Lord, you are our Father; we are the clay, and you our potter; and we all are the work of your hand.” Isaiah 64:8
“But we have this treasure in earthen vessels that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us.” 2Corinthians 4:7
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