Weeping may endure for the night,
but joy comes in the morning.
I did a thing yesturday. God was all up in it. Before I could get knee deep in celebration, crisis kicked in.
We are now 0 days without incident.
I have watched with a steady eye as he has worked hard to control his meltdowns. It is some unmet need that we are not understanding. I am grateful for the extra set of hands.
His respite counselor lets me be the designated bomb squad. begging for one more second to try to defuse it.
The nurturing negotiator,
encouraging, reaching for whatever he's got left.
Seeing his disappointment in himself.
Seeing his realization that we are not alone, so it's safe to explode.
Being close to fire means somehow you might get burned.
Nonetheless, I owe it to him.
With tear filled eyes to count him through it.
When his words wont allow, I let him know I still see him.
He's in there. I feel him. Follow my voice and come back.
The levy breaks.
His countdown turns into a river of sadness.
I know that melody. It is his sorrow.
He tells me thank you.
He buried his face in my hands.
I told him we never quit.
We start over.