Respite

Calder was moody this morning. I knew because of the low humming  he made followed by murmurings of "is missing is missing". At breakfast he was moaning as he ate. And I wondered if he could make it for school today. If not, the free morning I was anticipating would be gone. Instead of a quiet time studying the Bible (via Bible Study Fellowship materials), I would have to attend to him - stay with him while keeping him calmly occupied, hoping no one would make any loud sound to set him off. And yes, I prayed. When your child is troubled and cannot tell you why, what else can you do but pray? In my heart, I prayed and wondered - 7 min more to arrival of school bus. Is there enough time for me to take out the guitar to sing him our favorite songs? How about playing his favourite music on my handphone? So I click the link to last Sunday's online service. Songs that Calder played on the piano flowed together with our singing (our family was in charge of worship last Sunday). He didn't revert to school-boy glee as would often happen when I take out the guitar, but he was calm enough to put on his socks and shoes to go downstairs to wait for the school bus. In the lift, we prayed our usual benediction "The Lord bless you and keep you..." At the void deck, he fixed word puzzles of bible verses on my handphone. And the bus arrived. Calder has left for school - I've been granted respite. I'm thinking: How precious every day of peace and well-being is, especially for families with autistic children. I wouldn't know when Calder, now 16, is going to be the cheerful little boy or the upset and unstable teenager. If the latter, I would have to put down all work and plans and rest to soothe him. So I need to cherish every day of peace. Consciously appreciate it and live the day fruitfully, thankfully.