Good Job, Mama

I find myself on an airplane crossing the country, taking Ruby to a Spellers Camp (1) along with her sister. As the girls get settled in (Ruby giggling at every bump), I open my notebook and begin brainstorming ideas for how I might better relate (1) how our awesome God has worked in this seemingly impossible situation of having not one, but two nonverbal children but also (2) the very real and painful battles of the mind and spirit that are ongoing where God doesn’t seem all that present.

Funny, I think, how God is so much more “awesome” when I can plainly see results, as if He has lost His way in (my) darkness. My feet may be on solid ground, but sometimes (toomanytimes), my hands are flailing around as if balance was All Up To Me.

I am thinking, as I sit here in seat 18C, of the mother on the aisle across, and how she is doing so well with her wee daughter, songs and snacks and sweet words to pass the time. I want to bless her with encouragement, and to tell her about the source of m…