What I feel today is radically different than what I felt on March 13^th when the announcement was made to close schools for two weeks. God has been working tremendously in my heart. So, any good in me is only through the work of the Spirit and the grace of God in my heart.

March 13^th: I couldn’t believe it. Schools closed?! How is this possible? Immediately I panicked. I cannot do this. I cannot handle my son every single day all day and maintain my sanity—I did it before and it was the most difficult 5 years of my life. Summers scare me. How will I do it now when they are supposed to be in school? This routine change will mess him up. He’ll be a mess. I can’t do it. I need that break while he goes to school. I need to recover from the morning so that I can be ready and renewed and fresh-minded when he comes home from school in the afternoon. I need that break! I need him to stay in school! Please, God, no! Don’t do this!

Albeit raw and transparent that was my initial reaction. And immediately I felt guilty. How can I say this about my son? I was ashamed to feel overwhelmed by the thought of him being home. How can I feel this way? Oddly, years ago I wanted nothing more than to homeschool my boys but here I am today upset because they can’t go to school.

The days are hard with three energetic boys. There is no quiet. There is no calm. There is no gentle play. It’s all busy, dirty and rowdy. And even harder when one is on the spectrum. He necessitates constant supervision, constant intervention, constant entertainment, constant guidance. Every single moment of every day. There is rarely a moment when he doesn’t need reminders about being safe and how to appropriately wait for things and socialize with others…well, just about everything.

God used this closing of schools to further convict me of pride, but honestly, He began to soften my heart prior to this. Years of pride in my life began surfacing. For years I unknowingly nursed a victimization mentality and then more suffering and difficulty topped it off until I became a selfish, sorrowful and slightly bitter shell. The effect of this wreaked havoc on my husband’s and my relationship. The weight of my deep-rooted and self-righteous pride drove my criticism and unsupportiveness of my husband into a detrimental state. Sadly, I realize that now.

Even in the current situation with the school’s closing, God opened my eyes to the truth. My issue wasn’t simply that the days would be hard and overwhelming. The bigger issue was my pride, my selfishness. I wasn’t willing to devote all my time to them, because to give them all my attention—to give my son the 100% guidance he needed—might interfere with my time, my desires and my goals.

But that’s exactly what I needed to do. Love requires sacrifice. I am called to use every opportunity wisely, to glorify God in all things and all circumstances and this opportunity was calling me to be there 100% for them. I must put aside painting and drawing, to only clean what was essential (like making sure we have clean spoons, forks and underwear—ha!), to postpone other personal agendas and focus on nurturing and guiding my boys in light of the cross.

The first day the schools were closed my son’s TSS was approved to transfer his school hours to home hours, giving us 25 hours in the home to work on behaviors, skills and emotions. I was confident with all these hours in the home that we’d really make some progress as we helped him work through these specific areas. But three days into the first week off, the agency pulled all hours due to Covid-19.

Ugh…I pleaded with God. All these things we were going to work on… I need her!

God wasn’t finished with my heart. I was upset that night. But despite my panic, I felt God telling me, when you are weak, I am strong. You have all the tools within you. Now use them. He didn’t coddle me, but He didn’t forsake me either. In fact, I had peace. I felt joyful and hopeful.

Pride. Therein lies the root of all sin.

As soon as I was honest about my thoughts and feelings, God went to work in my heart. A quiet mind tends to be a closed mind. It’s not that He’s oblivious about my thoughts—He knows what I’m thinking before I do—but when I’m honest with Him then I’m opening myself up for His teaching and correcting. He loves raw, transparent honesty–be selfish or justified–because, when we open ourselves up to Him, we are essentially inviting Him to work in us.

I’ve been struggling with feeling like a victim for a while now. (I mentioned it in my last blog.) The power it holds over a person is astounding. I was blind to it for years. No one could make me feel better. It’s pride that drives it. And to that I want to say I’m sorry. God has been convicting about how self-isolating and self-absorbed I’ve been. All the people who must’ve seen me and wanted to avoid me because I was so narrow-minded in my pain, pessimism and sadness. I am truly sorry to anyone I’ve offended, discouraged or caused hinderance in their faith!

All those years of struggle and pain, I turned inward, reveling in my own struggle and misery. Probably threatening to suck anyone nearby into my hole of despair. I pridefully hung onto all that hurt, thinking others must see my struggle and pain. They must know what I went through. They had to know my past in order to know me. I wore my victimization like a badge on my chest and if anyone failed to see it I would be offended and hurt. Can’t you see my pain? Can’t you see how hard my life is? I’d silently cry out to them.

But it wasn’t their burden. It wasn’t their responsibility to acknowledge or validate a past they weren’t aware of. Nor do they have power to change my heart or drive me into the path of humility and healing.

I needed God to help me to humbly crawl out of my mucky hole, stand up and declare, “I will not be a prisoner of my pain!” Humility doesn’t take away the struggles, challenges nor pain, but it takes the focus off me and bends it toward Jesus, who’s no stranger to suffering and pain. When someone asks me how I am, I need to say, life is difficult, but God is good. Because He is so good!

 Even during challenging seasons there are blessing aplenty. Other people were posting about how many books they’d get to read over this time and I was jealous because the boys being home from school meant it was impossible to read books, yet God has provided small bits of time for me to do that. I thank God each time I open a book to read a fresh new page. I also thank God for the grace throughout the days. For the growth I see in the boys and in my life. God is good!

One thing that I noticed recently is that the books I was drawn to in the past were ones which would lick my wounds of suffering. Ones which would say to me, it’s okay; you’re justified in your feelings. You’re justified in your struggling. You have it rough. It’s as if they allowed me to continue in my destructive path. And books like that are okay temporarily, knowing you’re not alone in your suffering and hardships as you pour through other’s experiences. But it’s important that we don’t stay there. Once God convicted me of my pride, I noticed that I was drawn to “how-to” books. Ones which divulge in God’s Word but then challenge application. Their aim isn’t necessarily to comfort but instead require action from me. They acknowledge suffering but their goal isn’t to allow me to sit and wallow in my struggles. They encourage me to get back up and grow and live for God.

It’s been an incredible journey, a difficult one. No one wants to be shown how prideful they’ve been and how that pride has damaged the relationships around them. But I thank God for allowing His Spirit to change my heart and for allowing Him to use me despite my failings and hardships to bring glory to Him.