Tuesday, June 18, 2013

The Promise of the Rain

It was the day before the rain hit, a good soaking rain that went on all day and all night, for days. While the men were building arks, ladies were stocking the ark pantry.  

Lavender farm just up the road.

 She called my name softly from behind, emerging from the bulk food section at the farmer's market. I was facing the cheese case, Ohio Swiss in hand, enjoying the din of the busy noon market. My friend was toting her baby and toddler, and I immediately felt sheepish in her presence because I had been meaning to call her, but couldn't reach out. She greeted Little Mister. He's getting so big. She asked how I was, and explained that she couldn't chat because her daughter needed to find the bathroom, and it crossed my mind that someday I'd be hauling a child with a small bladder who needs to use the public restrooms, and oh, I don't look forward to that.

As she left, I thought, Did I even say anything? A "How are you?" or "Good to see you?" I couldn't recall because these days my mind had been preoccupied with something my mouth did not have words for and couldn't yet say. 

For weeks I had fumbled with our beat up old irrigation system in the garden, and in the process I was sprayed down more than the plants. Plus there were two rows of corn coming up funny, some beans that didn't look good at all, and a few peppers and tomatoes that were casualties of a toddler toddling. Where was the rain when you need it?

 I lived in fear of them not being able to understand the daily chaos of having a son who has some special needs right now, and all that it entails. The doctor visits, the referrals, the phone calls, the episodes. I longed to talk about it, but didn't want to talk about it to the wrong people. What I really wanted most was relief to rain down on us. 

I certainly didn't want to talk about it at the market and not here on my blog, either. This space is my one happy corner of the world, my place where I can post thanks and praise. I like to write about things I love, and to share joy. It is not a place for the hard stuff, it's a place for sunshine, not rain. 

Then, it started raining. Hard. The corn leaned over on its side and I ran out every day to straighten it.

I started talking about it, to friends, and friends of friends and just anyone and someone. People I barely knew or whom I thought of as my friend because we had other mutual interests reached back. They told me about their children with Aspberger's, undiagnosed boys with limitations, kids who got occupational therapy. We're with you, they said. You are not alone, and your son will amaze you. It was a shower of love and hope brought forth by distant clouds when I thought the sky was clear. They talked about kids who grew up to be really smart, and high functioning, and perfectly fine. They just needed longer to ripen.

The therapy coordinator told us we qualify for respite. It would mean I could do something important for myself like take a shower. Ah, rain again.

The plans for an ark were abandoned when the rain gave way to sun one morning, and I dutifully set out to straighten the corn on a clear day. For weeks I had struggled with our ill-working irrigation system, and now it was watered for free far better than I could have done it. 

 The rain can't stay forever. It arrives, replenishes, makes us grow, and leaves a promise. 



  1. Thank you for sharing. I have a "special needs" sister; who, in my studied opinion, just needs "longer to ripen." She's a blessing, if not also a challenge (:D), to me. May God keep shining His countenance upon thee, and bless thee with sweet relief and enduring strength!

    1. Thanks, Renee. I often felt like the Little Mister was not quite ready for the world and would need time to catch up. We don't know what the future holds for him, but I'm optimistic. For now, he's a huge challenge as well as an enormous blessing.

    2. Seems like, what I know of you from on here, is that you'll do just fine: because you trust in Christ. :)

  2. What a dear post and such a blessings. I have a special needs niece who is in her thirties but still very much a child.

  3. You may not post often but when you do it is clear that you truly type whats in your heart.. Take advantage of that respite care it will beneficial to you and the family when needed and used. HUGS sister the rain comes to wash and cleanse us.. i think in so many ways that is why GOD created water made it mean for so much...

  4. Isn't it amazing how good it feels when someone truly understands what you're going through? It's such a hard balance between those who mean well but are pretty clueless in actuality, and those who just blow it off as well this is a season, you'll get through it, move on. As is usually the case with God's timing, when you least expect it, expect it.

    Changing subjects just a bit - I recently found out about a lavender farm in MO about 45 minutes from us. I'm wanting to call them and see when it's in bloom so I can go see. They have a gift shop and I think a little tea room or something. We've had a lot of rain this season so I know things got pushed back for them.

    Great post, from the heart, as always. ♥

  5. Thanks for sharing this Monica.

    One thing I'd suggest is to be open to people about his Aspberger's. It might seem counter-intuitive because it might feel like then people will treat him differently and he'll be looked at as "odd". But in truth, in my experience the openness helps people know how to relate, how to care, how to interact with the person. It actually helps break down the walls instead of building them. At least that has been my experience with the various special needs children I've related to in my life.


    1. Oh boy, I didn't mean to imply that our Little Mister has Aspberger's but I can see why it sounded that way from what I wrote. He actually doesn't have a diagnosis, which leaves things wide open. What I was trying to say is that the Aspberger moms have been extremely supportive and helpful during this time. They have been a huge blessing to me, personally. Thanks for the encouragement, though. It's not always easy for me to share the challenges with other people, but it's a good reminder that it does help them relate.

  6. Lots of love being sent your way.

  7. I have a son with aspergers and adhd. I understand what you are going thru. He is going to be 13 in october. My heart is with you, and so are my prayers.

    1. Extra thanks Christina, for your prayers and for making me feel a little less alone.

  8. Just beautiful, Monica. A most lovely analogy. I love it.

    I'm sorry to hear that you're struggling so. But I do know this, that the God of the rain and He of the sun will be faithful to perfect all that concerns you. And, in the process, to perfect you.

    Most warmly, praying blessing,


  9. Oh, I'm just catching up.... still praying for the Little Mister and his Mom and Dad :-) He is SO going to surprise you! But you will need prayer and support to endure these times right now. Sure wish I lived closer :-(


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