Hi Blogger. Wow, I'm still amazed that you're still here.
I don't know where to start. To say a lot has happened is an understatement. My mind is in bits and pieces. I'll try to lay out my thoughts and vexations here as best as I can.
Nicolo
Nicolo is now going 3 years old. But I feel like I missed a year of him. Last December, after almost a year of deliberation, my husband and I made a decision to leave him under the care of my mom in the Philippines. It still pains my heart but I remind myself we made that decision for the best of our family and for Nicolo.
Family life is not easy here in Vermont. Two full-time working parents and a toddler, in a place that's winter and snowing most part of the year. Work takes a good chunk of our energy, and we feel like Nicolo only gets what's left of us. We have no family close by to help. Nicolo rarely has interaction with others except the 2 days he is on daycare, and a couple of hours on Playworld (a kids' gym free admission). We see that it clearly is taking a toll on his development. Nicolo is delayed in more areas in his development, in speech and social skills. I still wait for the day to hear him say "Mama" or "Papa" to us, and he's now going 3.
And then there's the scare that he might be on the spectrum, too. I am just thankful to God that we are able to send him to therapies (he is seeing Occupational Therapy, and will start with Speech this week, at 2.7 years old). I am also thankful to God that by some miracle, our schedule to see a Developmental Pediatrician got bumped up to months earlier, so instead of this August, he will be seen on March. So I praise God for that.
It is hard. My heart breaks. I lose sleep, I wake up in the middle of my sleep and there are times I feel like a train of thoughts just rams my head. Is that what panic attack is? In one of those moments I was thankful to God for one of my ates in our Thursday Ladies DGroup. God really knew I needed someone to remind me of His goodness and promises that he allowed me to have that conversation with my ate.
I don't know what awaits for us. All my strivings and sacrifices I offer it to God. I am counting the days until we get reunited again and be a complete family.
I am also continually praying for Nicolo and his wellbeing. I trust the Lord that nothing surprises him, and that he has already planned out our lives before they came to be. I can trust in his goodness and faithfulness. He cares for me and Nicolo more that I can.
Whatever they find out, I am confident that God will supply all our needs in Christ Jesus. ASD or not, I believe that God is our God and he never changes. In this life, sufferings are paired with God's mercies. Jesus came to earth and felt the sufferings we feel right now that makes me identify with him and he with us. So he knows. I am confident he knows and he cares. He invites me to take his yoke upon him, and learn from him, for his yoke is easy, and his burdens are light. Though my heart breaks because of failed expectations of what I think a child should be, Jesus invites me to see that everything that comes out of God's hands is good. Jesus taught me to pray as he did in the garden of Gethsemane, as I await for March 7th, as I wait for Doc Baylon's assessment of Nicolo, that “Father, if you are willing, take this cup away from me—nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done.” (Luke 22:42).
I came across this quote from Susannah Spurgeon that has given me comfort.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Directly from the Father’s Hand
Psalm 31:15
Why need I trouble or tremble?
That great, loving, powerful hand keeps all the events of my life sealed and secure within its almighty clasp, and only He, my Maker and Master, can permit them to pass from His keeping and be revealed to me one by one as His will for me. What a compassionate, gracious arrangement!
How eminently fitted to fulfill that sweet promise of His Word, “Thou shalt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee, because he trusteth in thee!” If we fully believed this, we should be absolutely devoid of the care that corrodes and chafes the daily life of so many professing Christians.
Not one or two important epochs of my history only, but everything that concerns me—joys that I had not expected; sorrows that must have crushed me if they could have been anticipated; sufferings that might have terrified me by their grimness had I looked upon them; surprises that infinite love had prepared for me; services of which I could not have imagined myself capable—all these lay in that mighty hand as the purposes of God’s eternal will for me.
But, as they have developed gradually and silently, how great has been the love that appeared, enwrapping and enfolding each one!
- Has not the grief been measured, while the gladness has far more abounded?
- Have not the comforts and consolations exceeded the crosses and complaints?
Have not all things been so arranged, ordered, undertaken, and worked out on our behalf that we can but marvel at the goodness and wisdom of God in meting out from that dear hand of His all the times that have passed over us?
You agree with me in all this, do you not, dear reader?
