Little Man

I write when something inspires me, good or bad. Writing helps me get my feelings in coherent order. I haven’t had anything too spectacular happen in the last few weeks, until just now. My children inspire me, and I didn’t realize just how much until today.

My daughter told me about something she did to help out a fellow student who was hurting, and it made my heart swell. I am thankful she is turning out to be a compassionate human to her peers! She is such an old soul for her sixteen short years, and she makes me proud in every way.

But the thing that touched my heart strings the most tonight was my son; my child, who has struggled with anxiety and depression more than what seems fair for someone who has only been alive for twelve years.

I knew there was something going on with him when he was only three years old. He would have temper tantrums that were uncontrollable and last for hours. He would bang his head on the floor, kick the walls, break toys, hit, kick and bite me and anyone else in close proximity. Then after wearing himself out he would cry himself to sleep. It was heart wrenching and exhausting.

Reluctantly, on advice from a preschool teacher, after having him prayed for several times, we sought help from a mental health professional. After five years of therapist, psychologist, and pediatrician visits, it was determined little man had level one autism with anxiety and ADHD. The doctor explained to us, that while his spectrum level was very low, almost undetectable, he would be more prone to severe depression and bipolar disorder as he got older.

Before we got his new medication leveled out, some wonderful people found him a dog, and that has been a very effective tool for bedtime. But sometimes, his feelings are still so overwhelming even snuggling with the dog isn’t enough. Those nights, like tonight, it breaks my heart when he comes out of his room saying he feels sad and doesn’t know why.

I knew he was feeling a bit down earlier this evening when he came into the kitchen and told me he felt like crying for no reason. But he gave me a hug and asked if I needed help with any housework. Then after bedtime prayers and being tucked in he came into the living room teary eyed, apologized for still being awake and said he is just still so sad.

Even though he is as big as I am now, I gathered him in my arms and we talked about how Jesus made him for a special reason, and one day he would know just what to do with his big, sensitive heart. We talked about his empathy for others and all the wonderful things he could do with his passion, then he fell asleep. As I tucked him back into bed the second time tonight, he said, “I love you mommy, please rest well.”

Even after him feeling overwhelmingly sad, he still wanted to be sure I slept okay. I know God has big things planned for that kid and I have to believe some day, all of this will be used for God’s glory.

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