Tuesday, January 13, 2015


     The buzzing of clippers through each boy's hair is surprisingly calm as they sit in their individual chairs getting their hair cut.  Too good to be true, I silently start counting, backwards, like it's a countdown; "10, 9 ,8, 7..."  Yep, there it is. Calmness is gone. Linky begins squealing in frustration every time a hair falls onto his iPad. Nothing major, but enough that I quickly offer redirection to keep him focused. In between squeals, I try to answer the questions from the barber cutting Lucas' hair on why we choose to homeschool. I start to answer again and Maddi from her chair yells that her movie isn't working on the phone. I pause from answering to help her for a moment only to be interrupted by Linky's squeals again. Yep, not the time for questions, especially not serious ones, not today, no time.
     Another day, we finally get loaded into the car after lots of rushing about and getting everyone dressed. Someone wants Orange juice, the other wants milk. Then someone starts crying. I yell out in frustration that we don't have time for this, no time for fighting or to go back in. I get on the road and call ahead to Mardel to ask them to leave a book at the counter for me, a quick stop in our rushed plans, so that if I find the time later, I can read. I'm desperate for some light shed, someone who has paved the way, some insight. I need this book. I've done this too many times. By calling ahead, we don't have to go through the store at all, just a quick jot through the doors with all 3 kids and we can checkout right where the book will be waiting. This will eliminate fussing and meltdowns and ultimately save; well, time.

     We unload from the car and walk right though the door as I had planned. Only there is a lady in line at the desk where I usually retrieve my book very quickly. As we stand there, the kids remember there is a train table and toys and start begging to go over there. I can't, they can't, we just can't, I try to explain, not with the mood Linky is in.  I pick up Linky in all of his 39 lbs at 5 years old. He's starting to get frustrated and wanting to wander. The lady in front of me keeps talking and I'm starting to sweat. I start silently counting again as I know Linky is about to lose it big time.

     When this happens, I feel like the world is on pause. Like I am in the middle and everything starts to spin and go in slow motion. I'm panicking on the inside because I know how long it takes in situations like these before he freaks out and loses it, causing a scene. Nobody on the outside can see he has autism and nobody wants to speed their world up to accommodate the internal battle I have raging on the inside of me.  He doesn't care about the looks or the time, he just wants what he wants and he wants it NOW! He starts yelling and tries to hit me and right about the time I am ready to say forget it, the line opens up to me. I step forward, clammy, red faced and teary-eyed, just ready to get out of there. I knew I shouldn't have came, should have waited until some other time.

     He's in bed, or, so I think. The time is late and he starts beating on the door. I sigh heavily as I was just about to start reading that book. I get him what he needs and know that my time is limited as he won't go to sleep without me. Over time, his sleep cycle has always been a mess and it's one of the only ways he will go to sleep. I have Daniel lie down with him and I head back to the living room as he stands at the door screaming for me.

     I plop down in a chair, tears in my eyes and I think about the time. It's late, I'm exhausted. Not from tonight, not just this time. But all of time, all of Linky's time. From a sick infant to a sleepless baby to a toddler with autism, fast forward to now, it's been a long 5 1/2 years. I feel like there is never time for anything. I work against time and time works against me, yet we go so far only to find that all of the time, we are still fighting the same battle. Where has the time gone? Do we still have time? I'm so utterly exhausted from waging war with time.

Time has been a  thief and yet the thief has been time, stolen, right from us.  When is that time that he, the enemy, will pay back for all he has stolen. How will all of this time be paid back to us? Measuring 4 years of autism against the backdrop time of eternity, leaves me feeling like this time has been but a speck in the bigger picture. In that, I start to remember how far Linky has come in such a "speck" of time.  All sadness aside, his disposition has changed dramatically and for that I am grateful! I ponder these things until my heart hurts for Linky, focusing back on his cries at the door. I get out of my sad state and walk down the hall to him.

     I scoop him up in my arms, cry a little more and silently promise him, that no matter how long the time takes, no matter how much time has been stolen, that I will never stop fighting for him. While hugging me so tightly, he gazes at me, tears in his eyes and says,  "I always love you and hold you mom." My heart melts and I tell him that no matter how busy, I will always have time for moments like these. I know that in time when full manifestation of his healing arrives, he will look back and remember me as his courageous mom. He will remember me fighting for him, fighting for HIS time and that......THAT moment of his full healing is worth all the time in the world!

(No matter what time has been to us or how I view it, that "Greater is He that is in me than he who is living in the World" and that no matter what has been stolen by the enemy, God restores and HE is good, all the time. That's where I will continue to keep my focus because I just don't have time to think about the lesser. Continually in search of that abundant life on behalf of my son.)
John 10:10 "The thief cometh not, but for to steal, and to kill, and to destroy: I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly."

Proverbs 6:31 "But if the thief is caught, he must pay back seven times what he stole..."

"I don't have time to maintain these regrets when I think about, how he loves us..." -How He Loves Us. (video below)


  1. LOVE this Stacie! I fecan relate to EVERYTHING you have said here. I am so very looking forward to sharing in your triumphant victory and celebrating with you! We are more than conquerors and you are amazing xxx Cass

  2. Thank you Cass! You are amazing too! I appreciate your support knowing you are a believer! Victory is ours!!