Sometimes our circumstances have us so stuck, our legs cemented into the concrete of the "now" and what is going on around us, it's painful. 

When my son was struggling with his reactive sensory issues, one of the things that would create anxiety was the sun. The sun that God created in the blue sky. The one that our planet earth orbits. The sustaining, life-giving, bright and beautiful sun. It shines 299 days of the year here in Arizona and it was a big deal whenever we left the house. 

Before we'd head out the door for his brother's homeschool P.E., I'd get the mini Dr. Seuss backpack ready and throw in several organic applesauce pouches, a bottle of water, some gluten-free crackers and matchbox cars. And we'd never leave the house without two very important things: his cardinals baseball cap and sunglasses. Two critical pieces to a successful Wednesday morning. 

I don't believe that God intended the sun to be painful to some people and enjoyable to others. As a mom, it was agonizing to experience my son's squirming and screaming at the brightness. It seemed unfair. 

Then I inclined my ear to the Word exactly as it's written and began to see the true love of the Father for my son. I learned that "the thief does not come except to steal, and to kill and to destroy," but the shepherd came to give life that we "may have it more abundantly." (John 10:10). I learned who the Father really is, that He doesn't give us a stone when we ask Him for bread (Matthew 7:9-11). 

I started to visualize what our life would look like without the SPD condition taking over our schedule, our day to day routine, our family relationships, even our business and marriage. I started to wiggle my toes in that cemented concrete and began to imagine moving again-taking baby steps, then actually walking. Then running. What would it look like if my son (and our household) had life to the abundant? What would we stop doing? And what things would become our "new normal"? What if we left the house and forgot the baseball cap or the sunglasses? What if the torment on his eyes was changed to a happy smile and actual enjoyment of having the warm light on his face again?

I had to see it in my mind first. That's where we need to start. Bringing every thought into captivity to the obedience of Christ (2 Corinthians 10:5b). No more obsessing over the pain of being stuck in a rotten place. Get unstuck in your mind first and put on the glasses of hope. Dare to believe for something different. A radical beauty, a dramatic shift, a renewing of life that changes from cement into a flowing river of goodness.

What are the simple things in this life that are agonizing to your child? Water? Sunshine? A hug or wiping of the tears? Picture your child enjoying them, relishing them, savoring them even. And allow God to take the hope of that imagination, your mind-picture, and make it manifest into reality. 

Perhaps in the near future, you will ask your child if they need a hat while they ride their bike on a bright sunshiny day. Perhaps they will tell you, "No, mom. It's okay." And take off down the street, into the sunshine, wearing the smile of victory that only God can give. 

"Now to Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to Him be the glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen." Ephesians 3: NIV