Omniscient grace

Sometimes we learn amazing lessons about God from our children. Unconditional love. Instant forgiveness. Pure joy.

But sometimes God uses our own words to our children to teach us.

We have a baby monitor to hear our kids at night. All three of our boys share a room and it lets us hear the fights and the early morning wake-ups lest Case wander outside, opening the garage and front doors, as he's wont to do.

Who am I? I am...

Who am I?

I've always had many answers for that question.

At different points in my life and in different conversations, I would have said:

Getting nothing done?

I often lie in bed at night and either think to myself or say aloud to my husband “I got absolutely nothing done today.” It is usually because something unexpected happened – a snow day, one of the kids is sick, several phone calls from case workers or insurance problems.

I have a list. I work from my list. I check things off my list. I even have a master list and a daily list. And an online list.

I'll take Blessed, with a side of MPS

I often say that I wouldn't wish MPS on anyone else. The heartache, the initial despair, the sorrow that somehow something you did brought this horror on your family, the gut wrenching sobbing that makes you throw up before you ever get a normal breath back.

No. Of course I wouldn't wish that on anyone.

But when balanced against the blessings and miracles and wonderful people that MPS brings, then again, maybe I would.

If I could reorder our world, would I create it any differently?

A Life, Distracted

We grow up. We go to college (or not). We meet a wonderful person. We get married. We have children. We work. We play. We sleep (or not so much).

We watch TV. We play video games. We Facebook and tweet. We talk incessantly about minutae, politics, the market, the weather. We clean (or not). We cook (maybe not well). And the cycle continues.

What is wrong with that picture? Aren't all those things necessary, or at least not terrible?

Is there a downside?

Since Case was diagnosed, I felt compelled to find the bright side. That is not to say that I was happy and optimistic all the time - it is of course a process ... to process. But, if you live in a cloud of "what ifs" and gloomy prognoses, there is so little left of you to enjoy the child that is still with you.

I was reminded by wiser MPS mothers at the beginning of this journey that Case did not change. He was the same the day before he was diagnosed as he was the day after. His outlook, his love for his family, and funny antics did not disappear in one day. Wise, wise women.

But in some ways, MPS actually made him...