Splash the Puddles

This morning by 10:30 am, my boys had already disagreed (quite loudly and with tears) several times about one electronic device or another. I'd had my coffee and my time with Jesus, the things that normally set the peaceful tone for my day. But, I decided that I just didn't want to hear anymore arguing at the moment. At least for a bit. ;). I turned off all electronics in the house and outlawed those that weren't currently being used as well. No television, Netflix, iPod, Kindle Fire or X Box allowed for one hour. It took approximately 25 minutes of complaining, declarations of "it's not fair", "Can I take a nap instead?", "Can I sit at the table and eat so I don't have to play with HIM?, finger sucking, MORE arguing about what to play, and whimpering before one of them, I don't even remember which one, had an idea they could agree on. There had been a plane crash. They'd create a "crash landing site" in which they could s

My children have a special bond with their baby cousin, who happens to be autistic. In particular, my oldest seems to have a unique connection with him that touches the deepest places of the heart of each member of our family. There's no limit to the ways these two adore one another. The love, kindness and gentleness shown between them undeniably paves the avenue for Cale to express himself freely and unleash his loving personality in its truest form. It allows Walker to thrive as a caretaker and encourager, spurring him to love deeply and compassionately intercede where words and processing capabilities challenge the littlest one. They bring out the best in one another, these two. Walker sharpens Cale, and Cale sharpens Walker. Their secret? Love. They simply love one another. Unconditionally and without hesitation, these two have broken the barriers of vulnerability, they've disregarded the differences between them. Sometimes it seems as if they live in two separate worlds.

At youth group a while back, my husband wanted me to do a trust fall with him to model a portion of his lesson to our teenagers. It must have been a last minute illustration for him, because I was unaware of what he had in mind when he asked me to come stand with him. When he said he wanted me to do a trust fall, I was excited. I probably haven't done one of those since high school, and I remembered them being fun. I turned around and prepared to fall backwards into the strong and safe arms of my protector, who I knew would never let me fall. I have, without question, complete faith in him. Yet, as I tilted my body and began to let gravity take effect, my right foot stepped backward, to break my fall. I glanced behind me to make sure he hadn't moved. Suddenly, I was aware that deep within me, lies a smidgen of fear. Fear of falling, fear of not being caught, fear of the one person on Earth that I know will never let me down, letting me down. "Trust me," he said with a