A Peek in to My Child's Brain

Have you ever tried to understand how someone else’s brain works? I mean really, truly understand how it works. It’s not an easy thing to do, but it’s an important part of parenting. We’ve spent many years trying to figure out how Clara Beth thinks because it helps us know how to help her. Fortunately, her brain is nearly identical to mine, so I can almost always figure out what she’s thinking, how she’s feeling, and how to help her work through those feelings.

Jude, however, is an entirely different story. He is not at all like me. He is much more similar to Chris, and I don’t understand Chris’s brain. But to make things even trickier, he is on the autism spectrum, and even autism experts don’t understand how autism works. And to top that off, his is not a classic case of autism. The national autism expert who diagnosed him admits that Jude is a mystery even to him. So there’s not much chance that I will truly understand his fascinating, brilliant, complicated little mind, but since I’m his mom, I’m going to give it my best try.

Many years ago, before I had children, I read a book called The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time. It’s a fictional book, written by a man who does not have autism, but from the perspective of a teenage boy with Asperger’s. It’s fascinating. I haven’t read it for many years, and I am not endorsing it as an accurate portrayal of ASD, but my friend Shannon reminded me of a particular passage that describes my son well. It does not necessarily describe all individuals on the spectrum. There is a saying that goes “If you’ve met one person with autism, then you’ve met one person with autism.” The spectrum is a big place, and no two individuals on the spectrum are the same, but this quote from the book has been helpful for understanding my little Judle Bug:

“Most people are lazy. They never look at everything. They do what is called glancing… And the information in their head is really simple. For example, if they are in the countryside, it might be:

1. I am standing in a field that is full of grass.
2. There are some cows in the fields.
3. It is sunny with a few clouds.
4. There are some flowers in the grass.
5. There is a village in the distance.
6. There is a fence at the edge of the field and it has a gate in it.

         And then they would stop noticing anything because they would be thinking something else like, “Oh, it is very beautiful here,” or “I’m worried that I might have left the gas cooker on,” or “I wonder if Julie has given birth yet.”…

         But if I am standing in a field in the countryside I notice everything. For example, I remember standing in a field on Thursday, 15 June 1994…and I went into a field with cows in it and I stopped and looked at the field and I noticed these things: 

1. There are 19 cows in the field, 15 of which are black and white and 4 of which are brown and white.
2. There is a village in the distance which has 31 visible houses and a church with a square tower and not a spire.
3. There are ridges in the field, which means that in medieval times it was what is called a ridge and furrow field and people who lived in the village would have a ridge each to do farming on.
4. There is an old plastic bag from Asda in the hedge, and a squashed Coca-Cola can with a snail on it, and a long piece of orange string.
5. The northeast corner of the field is highest and the southwest corner is lowest and the field is folded downward slightly along the line between these two corners so that the northwest and southeast corners are slightly lower than they would be if the field was a flat inclined plane.
6. I can see three different types of grass and two colors of flowers in the grass.
7. The cows are mostly facing uphill.

         And there were 31 more things in this list of things I noticed but Siobhan said I didn’t need to write them all down. And it means that it is very tiring if I am in a new place because I see all these things, and if someone asked me afterward what the cows looked like, I could ask which one, and I could do a drawing of them at home and say that a particular cow had particular patterns on it…

         And when I am in a new place, because I see everything, it is like when a computer is doing too many things at the same time and the central processor unit is blocked up and there isn’t any space left to think about other things. And when I am in a new place and there are lots of people there it is even harder because people are not like cows and flowers and grass and they can talk to you and do things that you don’t expect, so you have to notice everything that is in the place, and also you have to notice things that might happen as well. And sometimes when I am in a new place and there are lots of people there it is like a computer crashing and I have to close my eyes and put my hands over my ears and groan, which is like pressing CTRL + ALT + DEL and shutting down programs and turning the computer off and rebooting so that I can remember what I am doing and where I am meant to be going…”

        

I think that describes Jude’s brain quite well. The boy is amazingly observant. We hung new pictures in the play room a few months ago – large, canvas prints. My 6 year old could have gone days without noticing them. Jude, however, saw them the instant he walked down the stairs. He stopped and just stared at them for several minutes. Then he started to describe them to us: “I see Mommy, and Daddy, and Clara, and Baby Micah. I see Mommy’s feet. I see Daddy’s feet. Baby Micah has a white shirt. Jude has a white shirt, too. Mommy has a pink shirt. Daddy has a blue shirt. Clara has a pink head band….” On and on and on, until he had pointed out every detail of both pictures. He didn’t move, he didn’t take his eyes off the pictures, he couldn’t enter the play room and begin playing until his busy little brain had processed every detail of this new sight. But once he had processed it all, he could happily play in the play room, and he hasn’t commented on the pictures ever since.

We traveled to my parents’ house for Thanksgiving this year. It was a sensory disaster for Jude. He had been doing so well up until that point that we had nearly forgotten he was on the spectrum. But he had not traveled or slept away from home for nearly a year, before his diagnosis, and we took for granted how difficult a new place would be for him. There were new people and so many new things for him to process. Chris would lie down with him at bed time, and Jude would point out everything he saw in the room: “Daddy, I see a wall. I see another wall. I see a lamp. I see a ceiling. There’s a square on the ceiling. There’s another square. There’s another square. There’s another square. I see a picture. It’s a picture of a flower. The flower is yellow. I see a bed. I see a blanket….” Poor little guy could not shut his brain off and go to sleep. And that was just the bedroom. My parents’ house is 5000 square feet full of new input. It was more than he could handle, and he began to melt down. We saw him revert to behaviors he hadn’t used in months...behaviors that were the equivalent of pressing CTRL+ALT+DEL on a keyboard...behaviors meant to shut out the world around him so his over-stimulated little brain could take a much-needed rest.

It took him 3 solid weeks to recover from that trip- 3 weeks full of intensive therapy, home visits from his therapists, very structured play time every minute of the day….exhausting, sad, and scary. Fortunately, he did recover, and we learned some valuable lessons about how to help him cope with new surroundings and new people. And thankfully, he did great on our trip to Chris’s parents’ house for Christmas. We learned how to help him process his new surroundings, and he learned how to cope with the challenges of a new place. We saw very few spectrum-like behaviors on this trip. We've been home for a week now and he is returning to his normal routine fairly seamlessly. No intensive therapy needed for re-entry this time around. I don’t think we would have been nearly as successful with this most recent trip if we hadn’t taken the time to figure out what was going on in his brain, why he was melting down in new surroundings, and how to help him work through it. 

And hopefully we will continue to learn as the years go by, with the goal of him eventually being able to confidently enter a room full of new people and not only function through the challenge of it, but to thrive. That’s our goal, and we feel encouraged and hopeful that he can do it!

But it all begins now, one step at a time, one small challenge at a time. And the better we understand him, the better equipped we are to help him. So it goes with all parents, which is why I’m such a believer in taking the time to understand our children’s brains, even when they seem to make no sense. ESPECIALLY when they seem to make no sense.

2013 Jar of Awesomeness

2012 was a tough year for us. It was a good year though, full of many amazing things. If I'm not careful with my thoughts, I have a tendency to dwell on the things that were hard rather than the things that were amazing.  I've noticed recently that my daughter has this same tendency. When she comes home from school and I ask her how her day was, she almost always says it was a bad day. When I ask why, she'll say something like, "Well, I didn't get to be the line leader....somebody stepped on my hand during story time...William said my head band was not pretty...my teacher said Ellie is the best artist in the class instead of me...etc." So I've stopped asking her how her day was, and instead I say "Tell me 2 things you loved about your day and 1 thing you didn't love."

I'm making an intentional effort to use positive words around her, to praise her when I see her doing something well (like sharing with her brother), to say out loud things I love about my life, to avoid complaining about things I don't love about my life, to take delight in little things throughout the day, and then make a point of verbally expressing my delight. It's good for her to hear these things, but it's also good for me to say them.

We recently started keeping gratitude journals, just Clara and me. I bought her this journal, and bought this journal for myself. Every night (or at least as often as one of us remembers), we sit down together and write 4 things - very specific things - we are thankful for from that day. It only takes about 10 minutes, but it helps us both end the day focusing on the good things in our lives. It's fun to see the things she chooses to be thankful for - things like her Bunny, getting to wear her jammies to school on Pajama Day, finding out that the doughnuts at school on Pajama Day were peanut-free, that she got to buy a pencil sharpener at the school book store, and that she doesn't have cancer.

Although the gratitude journals were a good first step, Clara Beth reminded me the other day that this will be an ongoing struggle. She said that 2012 was a bad year for her. She said there were so many bad days, more bad than good. She couldn't give me specific examples, just that she felt like she had a lot of bad days in the past year. Of course, in my opinion, this girl leads a very charmed existence. It's hard to even imagine how she can not love everything about her life. But I know her - I know how her brain works. I know her because she is just like me. And dwelling on the negative is something that comes all too naturally to me.

So we are starting a new tradition in this new year. I'm borrowing my friend Jen's idea to start a jar of good things. We call it our "2013 Jar of Awesomeness." I pulled out an old Mason jar and let Clara Beth decorate it with window markers. I bought colorful post-it notes and placed them beside the jar. Any time something awesome happens during our day we can write it down on a post-it note, date it, sign our name, and place it in the Jar of Awesomeness. We can periodically pull out the papers and read them if we need a quick reminder of the awesomeness surrounding us. Then at the end of the year, on New Year's Eve, we will empty the jar and read about all the awesome things that happened this year. And look...we've already started! There are 2 little awesome papers already in the jar from today. A day full of awesome.

Because sometimes we just need a little reminder. Awesomeness is all around us...if we only take the time to stop and notice it.

My Christmas gift...

Look at those faces. It's hard to believe that face belongs to the same child. The picture on the left was taken last December. It was an ornament Jude made at his Mother's Day Out program last year. When I found the ornament this year, I immediately started to cry. I cried because I remember that face - the glazed-over eyes, the lack of expression, and the little boy behind the face who wouldn't look at me, smile at me, talk to me, or interact with me.

He hadn't always been that way. Until about November of last year he had been a happy, funny, affectionate, silly little toddler. We had no concerns about his development. We didn't know it at the time, but about this time last year he began to disappear before our very eyes - trapped behind the emerging wall of autism.

Thankfully, that wall has been chipped away over the past year. Pieces of the wall are still there, and they may always be there. But he has worked so hard to push back against that wall, and today he laughs, makes jokes, dances, gives hugs, speaks in complete, grammatically correct sentences, loves to be the center of attention, and loves to make people laugh. He loves his little friends, his sister, his baby brother, and his mom and dad. He looks them in the eye and calls them by name. He asks them to come play with him instead of playing by himself. He argues when he doesn't want to do something. He lays down on the floor and throws a good old fashioned, typical 2-year old temper tantrum. He yells "No, Mommy! I can NOT going to!" He smiles at strangers and tells them hi. He sings in the car at the top of his lungs...songs like Jesus Loves Me, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, and Jingle Bells. He negotiates over his food..."No, I eat 3 bites. Not 5 bites..." The first thing he does when Daddy gets him out of bed in the morning is run to find his sister, his baby brother, and his mom. He bursts in to the room and says "Hi Mom! There's Clara! And there's Baby Micah! I'm awake!!" He lights up any room as soon as he enters. He is a delight to everyone who knows him.

I almost threw this ornament away when I found it. It made me sad to look at it. In the end, I decided to keep it to remind myself of how far we have come in one short year, to remind myself of how proud I am of my little boy. That picture is part of his story, and it will always be part of his story. But thank the Lord, that wasn't the end of his story, and we pray that there are many chapters left to come.

This just might be my favorite Christmas gift ever.

October Fun

I'm a loser when it comes to blogging. I have great intentions, but there really has just been no time this fall. So even though it's December, I'm going to post some pictures from way back in October.

First, Micah got a new toy! He told me he was getting too big for his bouncy seat and his play mat. He was ready to stand up and play! So here he is in his brand new (to him) Jumperoo:

As it turns out, Micah was not the only one excited about his new toy. This kept EVERYONE entertained for at least an hour...

Next comes Halloween. It all started with this picture that Jude's teacher texted me one day during school. She said he was having so much fun playing dress-up, and he especially loved the cowboy costume. She said he wore it for almost the entire day. For a kid who struggles with imaginative play, this was pretty exciting!

So of course we decided he simply had to be a cowboy for Halloween. I searched for the cutest cowboy costume I could find, and he LOVED it. His school had a practice trick or treating day before Halloween where they took the kids to the neighboring businesses and taught them how to say Trick or Treat and Thank You. It's a great idea for almost all little kids, since Halloween is kind of a crazy and overwhelming night. Jude wasn't feeling too well that day, but we didn't want to miss out on the fun. Here he is with one of his amazing teachers/therapists on their practice trick or treating run. Cutest cowboy ever!

Speaking of cute, here's our Micah Monkey on his first Halloween!

This is all 3 of them on Halloween night. It was nearly impossible to get them all to sit still long enough for a picture, and Micah looks like he's afraid one of his older siblings is about to eat him. Still, they had a lot of fun, and Jude did great. I think they're hoping they can do it again very soon! 

In case you can't tell, Clara Beth is dressed as a paleontologist. A FANCY paleontologist. Of course.

Final shot from October...our little soccer player. She had a lot of fun in her first season playing organized sports. She scored one goal, made some new friends, and learned a lot. Maybe she really will turn out to be a sporty girl after all!

Now let's see if I'll get around to posting pictures from November before the year is over...

Here's a happy picture...

My 15 Minutes...

"We are often afraid, in the church, to tell people that our rope has broken lest they think that we aren't spiritual. We don't want people to know we're hurting because we fear that they'll think less of us. We remain silent when we are falling apart because we honestly believe that Christians shouldn't fall apart." 
 --- Steve Brown, "When Your Rope Breaks"

I am not doing so well. There. I said it. Somehow that's a hard thing to admit. There is nothing specific that has happened recently that has made life more difficult. We are not dealing with any terrible hardship or suffering through some horrible trial. Really, when I try to explain to people why I'm not doing well, it all sounds kind of silly. Overall, things are going smoothly and our life is pretty good. But still, I am not doing so well. I feel sad, tired, lonely, weary, frustrated, anxious, and I get angry easily.  I've been wondering if perhaps this is depression I'm dealing with. I've never had depression before, so I don't know for sure if this is what it feels like. I don't know if it's postpartum depression - caused by hormonal changes - or if it's just a result of isolating and difficult circumstances. But no matter what you label it, it's there and it's overwhelming. And it's time to confront it, with the hopes of eventually conquering it.

I realize that a major contributing factor to my current emotional state is probably our schedule. We are so busy these days. When Jude was diagnosed with autism earlier this year, I knew our lives were about to change, probably forever. I knew it would be hard, but I didn't anticipate how much sacrifice would be required of me personally. I don't begrudge that sacrifice even a little bit, but it has been hard. I had to immediately drop out of my women's Bible study (which was my 2 hours of sanity each week) because it conflicted with Jude's therapy. Play dates are difficult because he's in school 4 mornings a week for 3 hours. It's a 20 minute drive each way to his school, then we rush home for Micah's morning nap, head back late morning to pick up Jude, rush back home for lunch and afternoon naps, then Clara comes home from school and it's time for homework, baths, dinner, and bed time - unless she has soccer practice or Awana, which requires loading up all the kids again for more shuttling. It means lots of time in the car every day and very little social time for me. Add in a baby who doesn't consistently sleep well, and now even an evening out with friends is difficult because I'm just too tired by the end of the day. If it weren't for text messaging and Facebook, I could easily go days without speaking to an adult other than Chris or the therapists at Jude's school.  And in addition to our busy schedule, I've spent every free minute this fall editing client photos. I enjoy photography, and it's supposed to be an outlet for me - something fun. But I underestimated how demanding it would be to care for 3 small children, including an infant, a child with special needs (although really, don't they all have "special needs?") and the busy schedule that involves, so I took on more photography sessions than I could handle. It meant that every time the babies were asleep, I edited pictures. The laundry piled up, grocery shopping didn't get done, the house was in chaos, I had no time to read books or call a friend or even sit and breathe for a minute....I just edited pictures. Ten solid months of social isolation is bound to make just about any extrovert feel drained, and three solid months of a house in chaos and no free time at all is bound to make any control-freak feel depressed.

My very good friend, who also happens to be a counselor, recently challenged me to spend 15 minutes each day doing something I enjoy. She reminded me that God created ME with special gifts and interests, and to lose sight of myself in the busyness of caring for my family and running a small business is essentially to tell God that this special part of His creation is not important. I had to admit that at this point it's difficult for me to even think of things that I enjoy. It's been so long since I've done anything just for myself that I can't even remember the things I used to enjoy. So I started to make a list. It hasn't been easy, and I'm still working on coming up with ideas. So far I haven't done a consistently great job of making time for those 15 minutes every day, but even the process of making the list has been healing. It's good to remember that there ARE things about life that I enjoy, and it's also good to remind myself that some day I will have time to do these things again. I'm editing my last fall photo session this week, Micah will not always need 2 naps a day, and some day all 3 of my children will be in school. It may be a while, but the idea that "some day" is out there makes me feel hopeful and encouraged. I may not have time to go for a 5-mile run today or read a book just for pleasure, but I CAN make time to paint my toenails or go through a drive-through and order cheddar poppers for myself or work on one page in our family photo album. It's not much, but it's a start. And as I've begun to realize, taking care of myself is not being selfish. I am much better at loving my husband and my children when I'm not collapsed in a sobbing heap on the bathroom floor every night. I'm not doing these 15 minutes just for me...I'm doing them for the sake of my whole family.

When I started making my list, one of the first things I thought of was that I would like to spend some time writing.  I've had so many thoughts, anxieties, fears, and emotions floating through my head lately, but I've had precious little time to process them. Writing helps me process. The problem is that 15 minutes each day doesn't even give me enough time to organize my thoughts, let alone write them in coherent sentences. So I've been putting off writing anything on this blog for months, because there just isn't enough time to do it all. I decided today, though that sitting to process for just a few minutes at a time is better than not processing at all. My brain feels disoriented, chaotic, and heavy. I might not be able to wade through it all today, but I'm going to start - a little at a time. It doesn't matter if nobody reads it (although, being the extrovert that I am, I do like it when people read it!), and I know most people would rather just see pictures of the kids dressed up for Halloween (which I STILL haven't posted - no time!!) or hear about our Thanksgiving. But really, I can't move on to the happy moments until I've worked through the yuck in my brain first. After I finish up my last fall photo session this week, I'll make the time to post some happy pictures and adventures on this blog, if for no other reason than to remind myself of all the beautiful moments we experience each day. But I'm also going to slowly wade through some of the chaos in my mind - writing maybe only a few disjointed minutes at a time - until I can see more clearly again.

My 15 minutes are way over for today, but here's a quote from the Steve Brown book "When Your Rope Breaks" that I'm slowly working my way through while I nurse the baby. It describes my spiritual state so well right now. Seriously, I think Steve Brown and I have the same brain, except that his is much smarter than mine:

"Someone has said 'Never doubt in the dark what God has taught you in the light.' That's good advice. Some of my friends find great comfort in prayer and studying the Scriptures when they are going through a difficult time, but that isn't the way it works for me. When my rope breaks, the Scriptures seem as dry as dust and my prayers never seem to get any further than my front teeth. I study the Scriptures and pray when things are going reasonably well. Then, when the darkness comes, I remember the truth I discovered in the light, and I hang on to that with everything I've got."

Here is what I know is true, what has been proven to me in happier times, even though I don't feel it right now:  I am loved. I am not alone. That's about as far as I can get at the moment, but it's enough for today, and I'm hanging on to it with everything I've got.

Here's What the Doctor Said...

It’s been a few weeks since Jude’s evaluation, but I’m only just now finding time to sit down and work through my thoughts. Since then I’ve spent lots of time talking to his therapists, to Chris, to friends, and to God about it, but I’m still not entirely sure what to think of it all. The evaluation did not go badly, but it was hard, and it wasn’t as encouraging as I’d hoped it would be. In many ways it was very eye opening. It gave us a better idea of where Jude is still struggling, and where we should focus our efforts in the future.

The point of these evaluations is to set up challenging situations for the child and watch how he deals with those challenges. Jude’s biggest challenges are in the areas of communication and social interaction. He definitely struggled with both those elements at the evaluation. Watching him that day was almost like watching the Jude of 6 months ago. He did better than he did 6 months ago, but he was clearly struggling. He hardly used any words at all during the first half of the evaluation. I know that many kids feel shy around new people and new surroundings, but it was more than just shyness. It was almost like he had forgotten how to communicate, and not just with words, but also with non-verbal communication skills. There were many things (like making eye contact, responding to his name, requesting help, etc.) that I know he’s capable of but just didn’t do. The doctor explained that it appears that Jude has not yet learned how to generalize those skills. In other words, he has learned how to use those skills so well at home and at school (settings where he is comfortable and knows what’s expected of him), but he hasn’t yet learned that he can use those same skills in new settings. It sounds crazy because it seems like that should be common sense, but for some reason Jude needs to be taught this concept. So we discussed ways that we can target the generalization of his skills in his current therapy program, and what we need to be focusing on in the future. After talking with his lead therapist last week, we have some ideas that we’re going to begin working on immediately, and some other ideas that may require long-term planning, including possibly selling our house and moving to another county (yikes!!). I’m trying not to focus too much on the overwhelmingly large long-term picture, and instead take one small step at a time. And thankfully, the amazing staff and therapists at his school have promised to help us every step of the way, which is good because we really have no stinkin' idea what we're doing.

 So overall, it was not a bad evaluation. It was, however, eye opening, as I mentioned before. I realized that I have pretty much been in denial for the past 8 months, not really believing that Jude is truly on the autism spectrum. I don’t think I’ve just been naïve. The psychologist we’ve seen at Vanderbilt is one of the country’s leading autism experts, and even he is not sure whether or not Jude is on the spectrum. He even brought in a colleague during this evaluation just to get a second opinion, and his colleague wasn’t sure either. And the therapists at his school are not convinced that he’s on the spectrum either. He just doesn’t quite fit the profile, although he has several red flags and areas of vulnerability. So I’ve had reason to be optimistic, and I still do. But at that evaluation…watching him struggle with things that should be natural and intuitive, seeing his skills break down right in front of me…it was the first time I admitted to myself that my child is probably on the spectrum. He's brilliant - that's becoming increasingly more clear. Alarmingly intelligent in many ways, but still on the spectrum. Admitting it doesn’t necessarily change anything. The spectrum is a big place – there are individuals with a wide range of skills on it. That’s why they call it a spectrum. Jude is exactly the same as he was before the evaluation, with all the same strengths and skills, but somehow it feels different. Admitting it to myself changed things. It made me stop and re-evaluate my expectations. It made me face my fears and begin questioning what exactly I’m afraid of. And most of all, it popped my little bubble of denial, which is sad because I really liked that bubble. I felt safe in that bubble – safe and warm and comfortable. And heaven forbid that I should have to go through anything in my life that makes me uncomfortable. I mean, if nothing else, God at least owes me a life that’s comfortable, right? Clearly, the cancerous lies of the prosperity gospel are alive and well in my subconscious mind.

 At the end of the day, we still have much reason to hope. Jude has proven time and again that he is very, very smart and very, very teachable. In just 6 months he has learned so much. Yes, those things should have come naturally, but they didn’t. Still, he was able to learn them, and now they do come naturally to him in familiar settings. Now he needs to learn how to continue using those skills in unfamiliar settings. He has the best team of therapists in the city walking along beside him, helping him and teaching him and loving him. His therapists are optimistic and encouraged by his progress, and so is the doctor. He ended the evaluation with these words: “I think it’s entirely within the realm of possibility that a few years from now we’ll be having a conversation about sending him to mainstream kindergarten, possibly without any additional supports in place. And I don’t say that to many of the families I see in here.” So that's definitely reason to hope.

 The doctor also said that had we not chosen to send Jude to the school we chose, had we not intervened as quickly and aggressively as we did, we would be having a very different conversation right now. He feels confident that Jude would have continued to decline in his skills and we would have missed that important window of opportunity. Hearing those words was very comforting. It reminded me of Who has been in control from the very beginning of this journey. Once again, we find ourselves facing some major decisions in the coming months. Once again, things feel uncertain and unsettled. Once again, I’m unsure where to let my emotions land– on realism or hope. I can choose to feel overwhelmed and afraid again, or I can choose to look back, see how He has carried us through this all along, and sing “Great Is Thy Faithfulness” at the top of my lungs. My voice might be a little shaky and out of tune. I might stumble my way through, forget the words a few times, and hit several wrong notes. But I can choose to keep on singing anyway. Because after all, it’s not really about me and how good I sound, is it?

 Again, Jesus Calling came through with exactly what I needed to hear. I read this the other day and was brutally reminded again that it’s time to take my eyes off myself and what I want from my life:

 “Give up the illusion that you deserve a problem-free life. Part of you is still hoping for the resolution of all difficulties. This is a false hope! ...Instead of seeking perfection in this fallen world, pour your energy into seeking Me: the Perfect One…When things seem all wrong, trust Me anyway. I am much less interested in right circumstances than in right responses to whatever comes your way.” 

 Dang it. So I’ll let out a big sigh, take another deep breath, and keep trudging down this rocky path of sanctification. But look at the cute little buddy I get to take along with me!