Taking the Scenic Route

Let me be brutally honest here.  Church sucks for us as a family right now.  Zora cries if not being held and walking around.  Zane gets overwhelmed, either that way-too-excited hyper punctuated by mini (and sometimes major) meltdowns.  He can’t settle.  People can’t understand him.  Dh and I get “the looks”.  He stims more than he ever does at home.  He wanders around the room and flips out if I leave.  Zach has a hard time dealing with new people and dreads having anybody coming up to him and him having to make small talk, so he is a ball of anxiety, which makes him over react to the kids less than wonderful behaviors.   I feel like I am in the middle of a tornado trying to keep everybody calm and trying not to resent the fact I get NOTHING from church other than frustration and exhaustion.  Zach isn’t social enough to really feel like going to church despite the fact that he is deeply spiritual.  So, I feel like I am pushing us to go, and then I bear the brunt of the fact nobody else in my family can really handle it right now.  

I know that if we just kept going week after week after week it would eventually get easier.  However, just trying to get everybody not sick all at the same time two Sundays in a row seems to be asking the impossible.  It isn’t even about our schedules being off any more.  We get up at ‘normal’ times now.  Zach teaches a morning class, Zane has preschool and gymnastics in the morning.  I thought that was the biggest barrier.  Although it is a significant one, it certainly isn’t the only one.  I keep being told that in order for Zane to be comfortable, theoretically, we have to be consistent, which means nobody can be sick on a Sunday for at least 4-6 times in a row so he can get used to the routine.  Yeah.  Good luck with that one. 

I just feel like I am such a failure in that part of my life.  Going to church and feeling a part of a church community is such an enriching aspect in life and I feel like there is a big empty hole in my life right now because we just can’t seem to do that.  I know you don’t have to go to church to have a relationship with Christ, but I find the fellowship of like minded people to be a great benefit.  Much like the rest of my world right now though, I never get to actually interact with people as an adult, only as the mom of a kid with special needs, if that.  About 98% of my time there is spent monitoring Zane, often with Zora in arms, trying to keep her from ripping my hair out by the roots or taking off my glasses.  I am literally crying just thinking about attempting this again. 

Another Christmas season looms in the distance.  As a kid, Christmas was just the most wonderful and joyful time in the church calendar.  Little kids standing in front of the congregation singing “Away in the Manger”, kids dressed up in ill-fitting costumes acting out the nativity, the music and singing, the Christmas caroling in the halls of the old folks home & at the doorsteps of some of the older church members, the church decked out in greens, and the oranges and chocolate bar after the Christmas eve service. (that last one was just a special thing my church did).  I dream of Zane being able to enjoy those things too.  It created such a rich tapestry in my childhood. 

Every year since he was born as November starts, I add “Away in the Manger” to my daily “Jesus Loves Me” in hopes that he will sing it.   Every year.  Every day.  Several times a day.  It seems like a small thing, but it isn’t to me.  I dream of seeing him in the line of children shuffling excitedly in front of the congregation as they sing.  I dream of him being able to stand in front of grandmas and grandpas, and uncles and aunts and showing them his part of the Christmas program.  I can’t even get him to sing either song to me.  And there it is.  It isn’t his dream, it is mine.  He is big enough now that I realize it will probably never happen.  He will be ”too big” for the other parents to want him in that line of little kids.  He is not ready to be with the big kids yet.  It is one of those small dreams I need to just let go of because it isn’t about me.  It is selfish and doesn’t add anything to my life, and the experience isn’t likely to be as important to him as it is to me.   

So, now I am faced with trying to decide what to do about church.  again.  I like the Congregational church we occasionally go to, but frankly, I don’t really understand what they believe, nor do I understand their traditions.  Other than reading the sermons online, I have maybe spent 5 minutes in the sanctuary on the best days before either Zora starts getting fussy or I get called down to be with Zane.  I don’t have the mental energy to try and figure out how the system works and I don’t know who to ask.  We are clearly one of the poorest families going there and that isn’t helping either.  I want to go back to the Mennonite church across town.  We haven’t had enough money to afford the gas to go across town since we moved back into the area, but we aren’t that desperately poor any more.  (technically, probably, but it is a matter of perspective)  The last time we went, more than a year ago, we realized we couldn’t go to Sunday School because we couldn’t afford to buy the book and no way on earth was I going to ask for one.   

I was really happy when Zach agreed that he also wanted to start going there since our financial situation was improving.  Now, faced with the prospect of going there, I am scared.  Flat out scared.  It is a smaller church and I don’t know if they can handle having an ASD kid in the sunday school classes or if there is anything available for him during the services (because sitting through a service isn’t going to happen at this point).  There isn’t a lot of point to going there if Zach is taking Zane to the basement/playground/anyplace-out-of-earshot-of-the-sanctuary and I am walking a kid around in the hallway.  I am also scared of going someplace where we might be too big of a burden.  Mostly, I am scared of walking out of the church and fighting tears on the way home again because it went so badly.

And, as all these thoughts and doubts and hard things swirl around my head, I see little miracles happening around me.

Today’s miracle:  As we came out of preschool today, Zane was humming “Old McDonald had a farm”.  I started singing the words to his humming and he joined in.  It is a familiar song to us and we have been singing it since forever.  As I strap Zora into her seat, we keep the chorus going, and as usual, I pause to see if he will say the name of the next animal.  I always pause, but he has never, ever suggested an animal name in that pause.  Today he shouted “cow”, like it is what he always does.  Time stood still for just a moment.  wow.  I continue buckling him into his seat as we moo moo away, and come to the next pause just as I finish up.  I hold my breath this time, hoping upon hope that he does it again, and not only does he name an animal, but it is a different animal.  This time a pig.  Let me tell you, that was the most animated oinking you ever heard from a mama!

Maybe someday soon I will hear “Jesus loves me” or “Away in a manger”.  Maybe.  I can hope, can’t I?