On being forged into a warrior mom
If I could summarize our journey from Hell to HOPEISM, it would be in my faith, which I call HOPEISM. It has been my weapon of choice to get me through each battle I have had to fight in my mission to win our war called life with autism and seizures. Vaccine injury to be more specific. It would also be in committing to heart, soul, & mind the words and motto's from Forged, NDCQ, the Lone Survivor, and Levi Lusko in his book, "Through the Eyes of a Lion." I will be forever grateful to the inspiration, encouragement, and mental fortitude found through all of them collectively. Because of that, I am not allowing this tragedy of vaccine injury that has come into our lives to be an obstacle to being used by God. I am instead turning it into an opportunity to be used like never before!
This blog is dedicated to Brandon. His life has been forged by difficulty, obstacles, & all too often because of seizures - pain, blood, broken teeth, & broken bones. Yet through all that he has shown such fortitude. The bravery, strength, & resilience of a true warrior. He taught me that having strength through adversity means that even if you lose every battle, like the Lone Survivor, you never quit fighting until you win the war. That in the words of "NDCQ," you keep "dreaming," keep "daring," & keep "doing." As Team Guppy has yet to be able to escape vaccine injury, we have no choice but to as Levi Lusko writes, "Run toward the Roar." God has indeed given us such incredible power in enduring such impossible pain.
Some days the HOPEISM in that simply takes my breath away.
December 29, 2009
c. by Michelle M. Guppy
(permission needed to share, MichelleMGuppy@yahoo.com)
Today I was totally frustrated,
My son didn’t listen to a thing that I said.
He was misbehaving and constantly humming,
Giggling as he ripped my papers to shreds.
I yelled, “Stop it!” “Be Quiet!” “Enough!”
“Go to your room!” I told him a bit rough.
Feeling drained and totally defeated,
I wondered if life would always be this tough.
I felt guilty the instant that I heard it,
His soft whimper that turned into a cry.
I went in and sat down beside him,
Looked to the heavens and cried out, “Why?”
Why did life always seem so unfair?
Why so many things he doesn’t understand?
Wondering how in the future I will care for him,
When my little boy grows up big like a man.
And then I gasped the moment I saw her,
Reflected through a tear that was still in his eye.
Mary, --- the mother of Jesus,
Was soberly looking me right in the eye.
Ashamed at my words and my actions,
The grumblings about all I’ve been through.
She --- had to watch her son’s suffering,
There was not a thing she could change or do.
Seeing Mary that day changed my attitude,
By picturing her son who died nailed to a cross.
And what she must be thinking about me,
Did I remember her son and her loss?
I told my son I was sorry and I loved him,
Took his hand as we went out to play.
I shed a tear for Mary’s hand that was empty –
As she walked home that crucifixion day….
c. Michelle M. Guppy, MichelleMGuppy@yahoo.com
During this Easter season, - I suppose because it’s right smack dab in the middle of National Autism Awareness month and the fact that I was in the Houston photo shoot for the “Warrior Mom” project for awareness, -- I’ve been thinking a lot about “Warrior Moms” – and about Mary.
Talk about a warrior mom.
I’m such a wimp compared to her.
If an angel, Gabriel, had come to me one day and said that I would be a highly favored mother of a child who would one day regress into autism, and would face the scorn of society in many aspects and who would have challenges, even pain, -- I would not have felt “highly favored” and certainly would not have said “May it be to me as you have said.”
No, I would have said, “No way, not me, move on angel-boy….”
And as I sit here and think about what my response would have been, I now understand why God doesn’t always tell us about his plan, let alone ask if we approve of it!
If that angel would have told me all I would go through, that it would be worth it, that I would be BLESSED by it, that in a way that child would be my savior, - I can’t say I would have believed him, even if it was presented on a scroll signed by God himself.
I’m not sure I would have believed it if it was delivered by God himself!
Laugh at the angel, yes.
But believe the angel, no.
No, apparently some things you do have to see to believe.
And so my contribution to autism awareness month, and what Easter is about, is that as lame as it may sound, I have seen, and I do believe.
Oh yes, I have seen how autism can devastate me beyond belief.
I’ve had front row seats to see very clearly and without obstruction, - just how much autism sucks sometimes.
Not autism the child, but autism the ‘stuff’.
The lies parents are told about the hopelessness of it.
The cause of it.
The road-blocks insurance and agencies barricade you with.
The discrimination society still breeds to this day.
However, I’ve also seen how it has changed me in ways I would have never otherwise been changed.
And for that, I do feel “highly favored.”
Highly favored to be the mother of my very own angel.
Ok, more like Tasmanian devil at times, but angel nonetheless.
The child who saved me from the pitifulness of my own shallow self-absorbed self.
The child who has given me the truest sense of who God is, that is wider than the deepest Biblical knowledge I may have of God.
The child who made me a "warrior mom".
And I also believe more than ever, the verse in Jeremiah that says God promises us that His plan is a plan to prosper us and give us hope and a future.
Mary must have had some kind of faith to believe that verse when she had to have known all of what the Angel was telling her would entail. How else could she have endured watching her son die on a cross, if she didn't have that "warrior mom" faith to begin with?
The kind that I had to work for over the years.
The hard way.
As each autism awareness second, minute, hour, day, week, month, and year comes and goes – along with all that comes with it in being very well aware of autism, - I will do my best to remember Mary, the ultimate warrior mom.
And I'll do my best to remember what Easter, - the Resurrection, - is all about.
The beauty from ashes.
The strength from fear.
The gladness from sorrow.
The peace from despair.
And as each Easter season comes and goes, I’ll remember the hope that only emptiness can bring.
No, not the emptiness of Mary's hand on crucifixion day...
The emptiness of a tomb.
On Resurrection day...
Written by Michelle M. Guppy for Brandon - my Angel with autism