Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: FLEXIBLE (07/09/20)
-
TITLE: Flexible Brain | Previous Challenge Entry
By Holly Short
07/15/20 -
LEAVE COMMENT ON ARTICLE
SEND A PRIVATE COMMENT
ADD TO MY FAVORITES
Eyes focused forward, we stood singing of God’s goodness along with the rest of the congregation, only the two of us aware of the struggle. I released my fingers slowly, easing her body gently towards me just enough to keep her steady as she found her balance. My arm dropped back down to my side as my eyes teared up at the lyrics. Yes, God is still good.
Our 11 year old daughter has autism and physical touch is something she just doesn’t do. Her hand hangs limp in mine as we cross the street. My goodnight kisses are met with a proffered forehead as she bends forward from the waist, ensuring minimal contact. But last December, two days after Christmas, she voluntarily, spontaneously and initiated by her, hugged me for the very first time. No gifts or special occasion, I was simply leaving for the grocery store.
It’s now been seven months since I felt her arms around me squeezing tight. It was a real hug, one I held my breath for as my tears welled. I lifted my arms and slowly, hesitantly, laced them around her back. My husband grinned through his own tears, his body doing a quiet, little happy dance. Neither one of us wanted to interrupt this unexpected gift. And then, as though nothing had happened, she stiffened and pulled away.
I drove to the store in a daze trying to wrap my mind around this sudden turn. There was a blizzard out and in my glow I had forgotten to grab my coat. I never noticed till later. And while I wanted to sit and soak in that warm space of thought, I had to bend back to the every day.
My daughter loved me the same during the hug as she did in the withdrawn moments it was sandwiched between. Holding her to my own definition of an expression of love would only leave me inflexible to notice and embrace the seemingly small, atypical, daily show of feelings she is able to express. Yet God still gave me the gift of her hug; a surprise boost to spring me forward and keep my mind pliable.
Pliable, adjustable...“flexible brain.” It’s a term I first heard in the autism therapist’s office. And while the phrase was used in the negative to describe my daughter’s rigid thinking, I’ve found I need an abundance of this thing called “flexible brain” in the story God is writing for my life.
When my daughter is struggling to accept a change of plans I often rely on the reminder, “It’s time to have ‘flexible brain’ now, Sweetheart.” But for every time the phrase comes out of my mouth, I find it’s whispered in my ear infinitely more.
Dinner isn’t thawed: “flexible brain.”
A relationship is strained: “flexible brain.”
A crisis happens: “flexible brain.”
The plans God is revealing for my life look nothing like my own: “flexible brain.”
Under the weight of this world, a stiff neck will snap and a hard heart will crumble; but give in to His kneading and in needing Him, something new will take shape.
Last night, after everyone else had gone to bed, my daughter shared a rambling monologue with me about her newest interest. Stopping my task, I wrapped my mind around the moment, leaned in, and embraced the hug disguised.
Yes, God is still good.
Nonfiction
The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.
Accept Jesus as Your Lord and Savior Right Now - CLICK HERE
JOIN US at FaithWriters for Free. Grow as a Writer and Spread the Gospel.
Your story and your prolific message overwhelmed me greatly.
Your story should be in a magazine, or perhaps better still...added on and extend into a book. It would more than likely help, so many parents who share your situation.
Excellent job. My heart overflowed with emotions.
I pray this scores highly with the judges!
Blessings to you and yours~
I hope you are following the disability ministry of Joni and Friends. Under normal circumstances, they have summer family camps. I was suppose to have serve at one last week...