The Gift of Sleep

If there is one thing I can be grateful for as a parent, it is that I am blessed with two boys who are both good sleepers. The eldest would have gladly slept through the night from the moment he was born, but I was forced to wake him to make him eat. It was a horrible endeavor that usually left me in tears and him...sound asleep. Our second dutifully woke up for his feedings, but transitioned nicely to sleeping through the night right on schedule. Trust me, I don't take this blessing for granted. I do, however, sometimes take advantage of it.

For Christmas this year, my husband and I were able to acquire some used bunkbeds -- Thanks, Jani! -- with which we planned to surprise the boys. After hiding them for a time at my parents' home, we locked the beds in the office/storage/oversized junk drawer/extra bedroom upstairs to await Christmas Eve.

Driving home Christmas Eve, the youngest fell asleep in the car. Not a problem, we transferred him to his crib upon arrival. The eldest, worn out from too much sugar and spoiling by grandparents, fell asleep moments after being put to bed.

After cleaning the living room for the eighth time that day, it was time to get to work. The playpen had been set up in our bedroom and we easily transferred the youngest there. Now that his crib mattress was available, we put it in our bedroom as well. Our other son, who could sleep through a jackhammer, was to be put on there. Halfway to the room, my husband lost his grip and our son hovered just above the ground, looking much like a bag of cement being heaved from one place to another. Moments later, however, he was plopped down on the mattress without a twitch of the eye.

Hubby and I returned to their bedroom, moved out the old furniture and moved in the metal bunkbed pieces and mattresses. We banged and clanged that hollow-metal bunkbed together, sounding like a number out of Stomp. 45 minutes later, we climbed over the boys and into bed.

The following morning, not as early as one might expect on Christmas, our eldest son sat up and declared, "Hey, these aren't my sheets!" then announced he was ready to go downstairs.

It was only after stockings and all presents were opened that I prodded, "Don't you guys want to know why you woke up in mommy and daddy's room? Maybe you should go check to make sure your beds haven't been stolen!" This gave them pause, then both boys ran upstairs to discover the bunkbeds, complete with sheets for each boy in their current interest -- space for one and cowboys for the other.

I think the only gift that is better than their new sleeping spot, is knowing that they will indeed be sleeping in that sleeping spot. Phew.

Author's note: It is not my intention to cause ill feelings in those who do not have it so good as far as the sleep habits of children go...I mean only to share one joy that we do have as a family. Trust me, we have plenty of other issues to contend with.

Ah, Sovereign Lord

My dear friend and I have been studying the book of Jeremiah together for nearly a year now. Week after week my heart is blessed by the sovereignty of God in the lives of His people...including myself. More than once Jeremiah cries out to the Lord in confusion. Why these events? Why this suffering? Why now?

It was two years ago at Christmastime that my husband and I made the decision to adopt. Even at the time, it was not a decision we made lightly. Apart from the obvious implications of adding another child, we knew the process would be long and heart-wrenching. But we really had no idea how much so.

When it became obvious that my son's difficult behaviors were something a little more serious, we made the incredibly difficult decision to put the adoption on hold. Before we threw our hearts -- and resources -- into an adopted child, we first had the responsibility to help the child we had. It had reached the point where I could barely cope with our life at home, how could I possibly take on more? Though I had begun to dread each step of the process that moved me closer to more chaos, we were so close to the end and part of me believed that we had to see it through. Surely God would provide the grace we needed to carry on. The other part of me realized that like He did with Abraham, the Lord was asking me to be willing to sacrifice my dream, something that I truly believed to be of His guiding, to His Sovereignty.

Now, as adoption notices and updates arrive, I sadly throw them out, feeling as I do so a profound sense of lost. I am in a confusing position of accepting the road down which He has directed me, one that not only required placing on hold my desire for another child -- my little girl for whom I had already waited nearly two years -- but that also requires me to come to terms with my son's autism and all the implications that such a diagnosis brings.

It is my hope that although our journey with autism will not be altered, perhaps this current detour is just that, a detour. My prayer is that someday we will still bring home our little girl.

Tonight, as another Christmas passes, I am grateful...but I do mourn. I hope...but my heart hurts. I remember the blessings He has bestowed upon my family and me...and leave the rest to His Sovereignty.

Jeremiah 30-31