My Jefferson Award for Public Service

Jefferson Award for Public Service

I remember many years ago receiving an e-mail from what was then the non-profit organization, Cure Autism Now. I was selected as one of their "Hero's" to receive an award for my autism work at a Breakfast with other recipients in the prestigious "Galleria-area" of downtown Houston.

Filled with pride at my awesomeness, I promptly e-mailed my husband as to the date I would receive such honor so that he could take a vacation day to be my escort as that great honor was bestowed upon me.

I was so filled with my own awesomeness in fact, that I wrote the event down on the wrong day of my weekly planner of very important things worthy of awards that  I do each day.

So, imagine my surprise when on a Wednesday afternoon I receive a call from that organization asking for my mailing address.  I asked why and the person on the other end indicated that it was so they could mail me my award and that they were sorry they missed me that morning...

(Good thing I hadn't taken the tags off the new suit I bought to wear!)

That's one of my many moments of past humiliations I'll not soon forget!

Nor the moment not more than a few months after that beautiful glass sculpture arrived in the mail with my name engraved on it beside the words "Autism Hero"...

I had it placed on my nightstand bookshelf.  You know, so I could look at it daily to be reminded of my awesomeness.

I was moving the furniture out of my room for my husband to put down a wood floor.  In a split-second, the thing slid down the shelf and crashed into a million pieces on the cement floor from the carpet having been pulled up.

So much for being reminded of my awesomeness.

So much for awesomeness, period.

I couldn't help but laugh.  My husband told me he was so sorry that happened as we were sweeping up the mess, but all I remember doing is laughing.

Laughing at my own foolishness.  Laughing at how I allowed myself to think I needed an award for validation of the "work" I do in helping families with autism.  Laughing at how much harder I'm sure God was laughing as well... Shaking his heavenly head back and forth with a smile thinking, "Yep, I like it when things happen to make my point for me!"

I learned through that lesson long ago -- that my validity as a person, a Christian, a wife, mother, autism advocate, etc --- does not come from titles, income, or awards.

I learned exactly what place those things have in God's eyes....

Absolutely none.

I learned that my validity for anything good or worthy I have done or might yet do, comes simply from doing a job well done.

From raising my hand when God daily asks, "Who will be my hands and feet?" and I raise my hand shyly, hesitantly, sometimes unwillingly, and other times even scared to death, and say, "Me! Use me!"

And then doing so with the gifts and opportunities God gives and provides for.

A para-phrased quote from Beth Moore that I'll not soon forget either is this:

"The world craves someone to idolize -- we would do our best not to deliver".

Since that 'incident' long ago, I've truly learned that I don't want to.  I don't want to deliver to anyone a false hope or thought that I am anything more than an imperfect person seeking to serve perfection Himself.  I don't want to be known for any other reason than as someone who served where she could, how she could, and by using to the best of her ability the gifts God gave to her.

And not for the hope of receiving an award one day, but simply because it's what each one of us are called to do!

That at the end of the day with my non-titles, my non-degrees, my non-income, my non-awards, and my non-awesomeness, -- I made a difference in someone's life.

The letters, cards, and thank you's received over the years, blessings of encouragement that have come at just the right time when things would happen in my own "Life with Autism" that would cause me to become weary. Overwhelmed. Discouraged. Doubting that anything I was doing made a difference considering all that needs to be done.

Lately it's been one of those periods of time...where I'm reminded more of the many things I can't do in serving others, more than the few things I can do.

So imagine the complete shock when on a Friday afternoon that my husband took off work so we could finally do some 'remodeling' on our house, I receive a call from Channel 2 News that I was nominated for and selected to receive a Jefferson Award for Public Service.

Honoring the grass-roots networking efforts of Texas Autism Advocacy the listserv, and Houston Autism Disability Network and the support provided through phone calls, e-mails, monthly meetings, special events, and conferences.

After I fumbled through the phone call and agreed on a date for them to come interview me and present the award, I actually went to my computer to look up exactly what this "Jefferson Award" is.

A "Nobel Prize" for Public Service, for Volunteerism.  Founded by some pretty famous people.  Heck, the selection committee is full of even more famous people.

Crash.......
I hear millions of pieces of shattered glass hitting the floor.....

But this is different.  Where before, I actually thought I deserved an award.  I couldn't wait to be there to receive it.  I was prideful about it. Couldn't wait to get it home and display it.

Now, I know just how much I don't deserve an award for simply serving others as we each are called to do.

I am humbled. I am encouraged. I am challenged. I am torn and have debated for days whether or not to even share these thoughts on receiving such an award.

But I am sharing because I see this beautiful medal as an accountability tool.  A call to continue the autism advocacy work still to be done. A shout-out to others that no matter who you are, where you are, what challenges in your own life you may have, even what little time or money you have, - you can make a difference.

And as I type this a realization that it's not only about what I have done. That was yesterday, and "I" didn't do all of it. There were many people who helped make yesterday's collective autism work possible.

But as a reminder of what I must do today, each day, in helping to bring about a better tomorrow for someone with autism and their family. That it will take many more people working together to accomplish what we must yet do for families affected by autism in our community.

It is for what was done yesterday and for the work of tomorrow, and all who have been and will be a part of both, - that I am humbled to receive the Jefferson Award and will continue to live up to what the spirit of this honor is all about.

And so on the ordinary day that Rachel McNeil of KPRC Channel 2 came to my house for the interview, and later to Brandon's school for the award presentation, I was surrounded by things, not people, that would keep that moment in perspective.

No fancy suit at a fancy breakfast with other important people being idolized as hero's during a ceremony in a fancy hotel in a prestigious area of town.

No....

In fact, when they came to my house for the interview, I was totally embarrassed as every surface of the interior was coated in remodeling dust and my stove and kitchen table was in my living room, and my upstairs 'office' had no floor.

Later, at Brandon's school where they actually presented the medal to me, I could picture God smiling with me, as this time I feel I had the right attitude about it.

Yeah, just a non-awesome mom in probably the only pair of non-stained jeans I possess, wearing a shirt from my Wal-Mart Fall Collection, sporting roots needing to be touched up, during a humid Houston bad-hair day; with her totally awesome son who was far more fascinated by his straws than his mother's award.

Ha ha ha...

No, make that her totally awesome son who doesn't even know what an award is!

Thank you God for sending your son to serve us, so that we might know how to serve others.

Thank you Jefferson Awards for promoting community involvement, community service, and volunteerism.

Thank you KPRC Channel 2 for donating your airtime in partnership with the Jefferson Awards.

Thank you Todd for doing what you do at work each day to provide for our family, so that I can do what I do in serving other families.

Thank you everyone who was a part of the autism work in Texas that represents the spirit of this award.

(And thank you that this award is not glass)

(Smile)


 By Michelle M. Guppy
              For you, and because of you,  my Brandon....
 


 ~~~~

For those who want to see this non-public speaking gal's interview for this award, and the presentation of the award ( --- meaning you mom --- ) you can tune in to KPRC Channel 2 News on March 10th sometime during the 5pm newscast.

To learn more about the Jefferson Awards for Public Service, click here:
http://www.jeffersonawards.org/about

If you would like to answer the "Call to Volunteer" your time or your money for the autism work we do in Houston, please contact me at MichelleMGuppy@yahoo.com.

We are a 501 (c) (3) non-profit organization and your donations are tax deductible. 


~~~~

The Gospel according to Wakefield...

Webster's defines "gospel" with the following words:  good news, the teachings of Jesus, anything proclaimed or accepted as truth....

I chose this title because to me it mixes both sets of emotions I have right now about Wakefield and my beliefs as a Christian.

And to be clear, - no, I don't view Wakefield as "God" or "the Messiah" or anything idolatrous like that.  What I do have for Wakefield, is the utmost respect and admiration for who he is, what he stands for, and what he won't back down from -- which is quite simply, the truth.

The gospel truth...

According to what the scientific process should be about, but isn't anymore.

Not since Proffit, er Offit, no, I mean the "profit" that has occurred since the onslaught of vaccinating from everything from getting the flu to most likely not long from now, not having  freckles.

Not since what the government and the vaccine industry saw in how much they could gain from the profit off of attempting to prevent sickness in children, or from the treatment of the sick children those very vaccinations create.

Even though Wakefield happened to be the one that started us on our path of saving our son, he is not our Savior.

God is.

Wakefield is simply an endangered species of man who dares to tell the truth at no profit and at all cost.

He is simply a man who last Friday night at dinner with a group of people, challenged me in a way I've not been challenged in a long time; and it's had me thinking since then.

At dinner with he and the authors of "The Age of Autism" and some parent warrior-mom's of autism --- one of the authors said matter-of-factly to Dr. Wakefiled, "You know they won't stop until you are in jail".

To which Dr. Wakefield calmly replied without a blink or hesitation, "I know.".

I sat there across from Wakefield in stunned silence.

You see, "The Gospel according to Wakefield" is so solidly based on the truth and pure intentions, the thought of being persecuted all the way to jail does not even deter him.

I cringed at my own Christianity at that moment.

What am I being persecuted for believing?
What career am I giving up for the pursuit of truth?
How far will I be willing to go for Christ?

The next day at the event he was brought in to speak at along with Mark Blaxill and Dan Olmsted, I watched a man who has been carrying the cross he has been crucified on time and time again for years now, still stand strong with dignity.  I listened to a man undeterred.  Unphased by the media man-hunt of the previous week. Not angry, not accusatory, not out-of-control, -- but steadfast in the only way one can be when they know what they are doing and why they are doing it, and doing it not because they particularly enjoy it, but because it must be done.

I was watching a modern-day Paul.

A man from "The Gospel" who was just as persecuted.

A man who was Beaten. Belittled. Jailed.

Yet from jail, still encouraging the church to remain faithful.

From jail, still proclaiming the truth.

If there is anything 'god-like' about Wakefield, it is that similarity.

That truth cannot, and will not, be silenced.

Not even by death.



That similarity so lost in modern-day journalistic bias and mainstream medicine's apathy, that it seems as foreign as a story from Biblical times.

Making Wakefield seem like a god because average men who do what he does, are so rare that anyone who does do what each of us are called to do in speaking the truth, must be gods with delusional cult-like followers!

I have no doubt Wakefield would go to jail for a cause that doesn't even affect his own family.

Do you get that reporters? Critics? Mainstream Medicine?

You who are swayed by the lure of  pharma & advertising money today, just as Judas was then?

You who are nothing but marionette's controlled by the strings of the paycheck you would dare not lose as Wakefield willingly did?

You who will eventually hang yourselves on your own wrongness as Judas did?

One doesn't need research, facts, more research, and more facts, to understand the basic premise of who is believable and who is wildly trying to defend a very lucrative way of life.

Healthy children simply do not make anyone any money. Period.

There is too much at stake for a rational debate on the issue of vaccine manufacturing or drug safety.

There is too much money to be lost by a multi-billion dollar industry in Wakefield being right.

Jesus understood that conflict about those who convicted & crucified him.

He understood that for most people, their very pride would not ever allow them to believe in a Messiah, or that he was that Messiah. And he understood that even if they did believe that, their love of self would not let them follow that belief.

Yet he endured the cross anyway, for them. 

Just as Wakefield endures the cross he bears,  for us. 

For me.

For my son. 

When I had given up hope in ever finding answers for my son's chronic diarrhea, Dr. Wakefield's research led me to Austin and Thoughtful House Center for Children in 2006.  There, Dr. Krigsman's Endoscopy & Colonoscopy of my son, led to the medical treatment my son had been denied from the most respected medical center for children I live 20 minutes from in Houston.  Treatment which made my son a healthier person, no longer in pain, no longer homebound from the up to twelve bouts of diarrhea he had daily for over a decade.

From that period of time in getting that help for our son, I had come across a poem written by a profoundly disabled boy, who through a painstaking process, could share his poetry. That boy's name is Marshall Ball, and this poem is one I've kept in my Bible ever since then, as a symbol of my son's autism, bowel disease, and what Wakefield's research, and Dr. Krigman's subsequent treatment meant to us:

Kind
Rich
Love

Listens
Kindly

For
Answers


If there's anything in this life Dr. Andrew Wakefield is guilty of, it is that.

 

  
 Written by Michelle M. Guppy
   ..... for Brandon

Christmas through Brandon's Eyes

I thought I knew Christmas.

As a child it meant Santa, Rudolph, and gifts galore.

It was a winter wonderland perhaps not always of snow, but always of the magic of it all.
Christmas as a child was a carefree time with no worries.

When my husband and I became Santa & Mrs. Claus with the birth of our first son Matthew, Christmas was all those things and more, but perhaps with deeper sentiment.
In knowing we were making these memories for our son, to be his Christmas memories one day, to pass on to his son, and so on.

As it should be.

During Matt’s childhood, I could not imagine Christmas meaning any more than it did then.
We had the best of both Christmases.

Both real and make-believe.
The bribery of Santa’s ‘naughty’ or ‘nice’ list.
The truth that Christmas was about Baby Jesus’ Birthday, who was born for us to be put on His eternal-life list.

Cuddling on the couch with him each night, watching Charlie Brown, Rudolph, or Santa Claus Comes to Town.

Christmas Eve Candlelight service, singing about our Savior.

And then the look on his face Christmas morning in finding all the toys Santa left him under the tree…

I thought that was Christmas.

Until Brandon.

And his autism.

What would Christmas be then?

Can a Christmas, without Christmas things, still be Christmas?
Without Santa?

Without the understanding of his own Birthday, let alone Jesus’?

What memories do I make for him, who might never have a son to pass them on to?
I now know the answer.
It would still be Christmas.
Christmas through Brandon’s eyes.

You see, once you strip everything from Christmas that is autism… the magic, the pretend, the imagination, those things that my son can’t comprehend.
The crowds, the Christmas goodies, & the parties that my son can’t have or handle.
And the perfect gifts, that I can’t buy, from a list that he can’t write…

If you take away all that – all you have for Christmas is a mom, a dad, and a precious child.
Sound familiar?
If not, look at any Nativity scene.
What do you see?
What don’t you see?
And when I look at it that way, I can see why many do not like this time of year.

And I’m even more dazzled by how much I love this time of year.

They see a perfect Christmas as one in a clean, full house, decorated exceptionally.
I see it as an essentially homeless couple forced to have a baby alone in a dirty barn.

They see the only point of Christmas in being if you have a job and can put gifts under the tree.
I see it as a poor Shepherd Boy who had no gift to bring except for himself.

They think you can’t have a Merry Christmas if you are burdened by challenges, disappointments, or poor health.
I see the joy of Three Wise Men who wouldn’t have missed that journey, that Holy Night, and all the hardship & challenges they had to endure to get there - for all the Frankincense, Myrrh, and Gold in the world.

And sometimes when the world tries to make it so complicated and hurried, I think it is good to just sit back and think as simply as the animals did in that barn long ago, - simply staring in awe at a baby asleep in their hay.

It’s because I now must look at Christmas that way, that it has become the most wonderful time of my year.

It’s the time of the year that I look back on the journey and how far I have come in following that Star, my God, who is up in the heavens guiding me.

It’s that time of year when I can look back at all the Herod’s in my son’s life who would want to harm him, but didn’t because I would go to the ends of the earth to protect him.

It’s that time of year when I take time for renewal, in preparation for the New Year and a new journey, as challenging as it too may be.

It’s that time of year when I can truly smile that in my own plain-ness, I am highly favored.
I have given birth to a most special child.
No, not one who would save the world from sin…
But rather one who has saved me from myself.

Yes, I can look at what the world has done to Christmas, and what it has told me Christmas can only be about – and I can see how I too would want it to just go away as quickly as possible.

But when I look at Christmas through my son’s eyes, and through Mary’s imperfect journey in getting to that first Christmas night so long ago, I can only see joy, peace, and a most perfect love.

I can only be joyful.

I can only wish for it not to end!


I think that’s God’s personal confirmation to me, that He knew what he was doing with autism in my life.

His personal illustration to me, that Christmas is not what the world has taken away in my son, but rather what God has given me through the gift that is His son, my son.

Christmas through Brandon's eyes, is my son’s gift to me.

His sacrifice, my gain.

Those lines sound familiar too…

And it humbles me to no end.

Just like I’m sure it did to Mary.

As she saw Christmas through Baby Jesus’ eyes...

On that first Holy Night, many Christmases ago.

~~~~~~~~~~

Merry Christmas Brandon…..

I love you .

.....our Christmas journey

Dear Todd,

I know you didn't want to be late to work this morning, or have to haul your son out of the tub yet again from another seizure.

I know I didn't want to have to take the dog to the vet, nor have my plans changed or made more difficult to complete yet again by Brandon having to miss school...

Yet again.

That seems to be the key word of late!
 
You and I remind me of Joseph and Mary.

Their journey to the birth of Christ.

No, not that we are as holy or as chosen as they were.

But that really in God's plans and purposes for our lives, we are.

Their life together was not as they planned.

Many detours.

Many pitfalls, challenges, tests of faith.

Sound familiar?

I have to know that during all that - they were focused on the destination.  On the overwhelming joy of what would come to be - overshadowing all that they would face simply to get there.

And so I simply thank you this Christmas.

For listening to that voice of God that tells you in prayer that all will be well if you remain steadfast and focused and do not jump ship no matter how hard it may shake.

For living that quiet, simple life of focusing on only what matters and helping us to shut out all that doesn't for self-preservation of our sanity.

For loving the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, and mind.

Those things being the key to our survival of  "Life with Autism".

Our journey lately has been a hard one.
It's tested our patience and endurance.
But I can't help but smile in how it so reflects all that Christmas is meant to be about.

And I know that come Christmas Eve and Christmas Day - if we have never left our house to do anything "Christmas'y", if we have not a Christmas gift bought, not a Christmas card sent, not a Christmas program or party attended, - we will have celebrated the true gift of Christmas in the way it was meant to be celebrated.

Humbly.
Prayerfully.
Faithfully.
Peacefully.
Joyfully.

Simply.

And the ever present...

Humorously.

You'll want to focus on that last one when you get the $515.00 vet bill from this morning.
 

I love you Todd....

Thank you for all that you do....

The Gift of Peace

(originally written in 2004)

I want to share a very personal story about an answer to a prayer about what my son thinks; and about what that taught me about how to find peace….

  

I especially want to share about  finding peace;  --- because especially at this time of year,  many people are frantically looking for it as they dash from mall to mall and party to party.  Peace seems to be everywhere – it’s on just about every Christmas card I have received, and in just about every Christmas song I have heard.  In my Bible – there are dozens and dozens of references and scriptures on peace!  So even though peace seems to be everywhere around me – I have often found it to be just out of my reach.  Especially since my life is sometimes anything but peaceful! 

Many hundreds of times over the last several years when I have seen Brandon stare up at the sky, I would secretly wonder how he could look so peaceful.  I would imagine that it’s because he is looking at Jesus or his Guardian Angels – (of which I’m sure he must have many considering the predicaments I’ve found him in…).  I believed that he is truly seeing something or someone in the heavens that I cannot.  While I may have God’s telephone number and can call him ANYTIME,  I believe Brandon has his direct line and talks to him ALL the time.   

That’s probably why he looks peaceful.  I have no doubt about that.

I also have no doubt that the things I have written that have found their way in books and magazines over the years, - have been inspired by God through Brandon.  The words  are my interpretations of my son’s silent world and how he has impacted my thoughts, my beliefs, and my life.  In essence – I use my words to speak for his silence….

But there has always been something missing…. 

I want to know Brandon’s words.  Brandon’s thoughts, Brandon’s feelings, ….  I want to know how Brandon views the world from his standpoint.  I have prayed about that more over the last several years than anything else.  “What does Brandon think about?”  “What does he see?”  “Does he know God?”  Of course I know from the miracles I’ve seen in his life and how he has impacted mine and others – that God IS a part of Brandon’s life and that in his own way he does at least feel God and see God.  But still the question…. “What are his thoughts of God?”    

“What does God say to him?”

Well, God had mercy on me and my constant nagging to him about that….and gave me an early Christmas present this year.  He did that through introducing me to Marshall Ball a couple of months ago.  Every question about what my son’s relationship to God must be like was answered by reading Marshall’s writings as if God was explaining it to me himself.      

Who is Marshall Ball?  He is a child much like my own son in many ways.  He depends on others for his every need – he cannot write or speak.  Marshall’s story is one that will give you peace, no matter what situation you are in, no matter how young or old you are.   Whether you  are touched by disability or not.  Marshall has a connection with God that few can match – and from the age of 5 he has known that his purpose in life is to teach others about God’s love.

He does that with poetry.  Through a painstaking, tedious process described by his mother in the books.  Marshall mainly uses simple short words or sentences, but with such profound meaning.  He has complex thoughts, yet they sometimes come across so simple that they leave you wondering why you ever let anything stress you in the first place!

Simply put – God placed Marshall Ball’s books, “A Good Kiss,” and “Kiss of God,”  in my lap to answer the questions I often asked about my son’s thoughts and why he can be so peaceful despite his situations or limitations.  And by doing so, I have received the greatest Christmas present  - (aside from my savior and salvation)  – the gift of understanding the kind of peace my son knows that allows him to look to God in the heavens, listen for Him, and hear Him – despite what’s going on around or within him.  That’s the kind of peace I’ve needed for a long time!

Reading Marshall’s books, I learned that peace is not really a word, it’s rather a freedom.  It’s a place in your heart and mind;  it’s finding a new  perspective of life that allows you to be peaceful in the midst of turmoil; and most importantly,  it’s feeling, hearing, and listening to - God.   Peace is allowing yourself to be filled with the presence of God. Peace to me is what Marshall views as a “kiss” of God.  He uses the word “kiss” to describe thoughts of God and thoughts from God.  I’ve learned that the reason my son is so peaceful in the midst of what I would consider despair in not being able to do what most typical children do – is because he is filled with the peace of God by constant “kisses” from God.   

My child, like Marshall,  has pain, frustration, and fears – but he also has the freedom to put those things into perspective and not let them rule his life.  His body may have limitations – but his mind does not.  He is therefore free to be filled with the presence of God, and to feel the peace from God.    Many of us would be wise to grasp that….  To me  that is the essence of peace.  You can’t go find peace, and it’s not a place you come to in life where you automatically get it.  In order to have peace,  you have to change your perspective and free your mind of any limitations or barriers,  so that you can allow the presence of peace to fill you.  Anytime, anywhere…   

In any circumstance.

Marshall knows that well…   

He defines peace this way: 

PEACE

The sweet angels take us to peace.

Never fear

Quietly

Lovingly

The angels come.

By Marshall Ball - “A Good Kiss”

May the peace of Christmas be with you today, tomorrow, always...

By MichelleMGuppy@yahoo.com

The Gift of Timelessness

It's no secret to those who know me well, that I'm a "Hallmark Channel" gal.  More specifically, a "Little House on the Prairie" gal.

There's a scene in one of the episodes where Charles & Caroline had just lost a baby boy.  Caroline was in a strange town where they had taken their son to get better help, and it was there where he died.  She stood staring out the window at the busy street down below and simply said, "Where is everyone in such a hurry to get to..."

Her son had just died and she could not imagine anything else in that moment.

Time for her, simply stood still.

Being no stranger to travesties with my own son who has epilepsy, I often find myself  thinking of that line in that episode.

Something Life with Autism brings to me, is an appreciation of timelessness.

In Brandon's world, there is no time.

There's never not enough of it, never too much of it.  He doesn't even know what time is, and is therefore, never stressed by it.

He never has too much to do where he would need more of it, and he's never been bored and wished he had less of it.

He simply lives each moment, as that moment.

Once that moment is gone, no regrets if he made a mistake or lived it wrong.

Never thinking about moments yet to come, nor the worries or stress of what those moments might, or might not, bring.

His world is a timeless world - and the kind of world I try to live in as much as possible.

Where all that matters is this moment right here, right now.

Where all that matters is if you are truly living in this one moment that you are guaranteed.

Each seizure my son has, reminds me of that.

Today he had one and fell backwards down our wood stairs, landing head first on the tile floor.

He survived that praise the Lord, but it once again reminded me how timeless time is.  In the moments that followed that incident, it didn't matter what time it was, what appointment I was missing, what I could or couldn't now get done.

It didn't matter if that put Christmas behind - or at least my self-imposed thinking of what schedule should be kept in the warp-speed pace that Christmas has become.

Nothing mattered except each moment that I could sit with or lay beside my son, simply being thankful for each breath he took.

Christmas -- the stuff of it could have come and gone and I wouldn't have cared or really missed it.

Because Christmas -- the spirit of it, was being lived right there and right then in the simplicity of a moment.

Of each moment filled with thoughts and things that truly mattered.

Surprisingly not one of those thoughts or things included gifts still to get or parties to plan or attend.

Much like the simplicity of the moment on that Christmas long ago when all Mary and Joseph could do, was sit with the newborn Savior-King and keep him warm and safe.

Not complaining about or regretting the hardship of getting there, not worrying about the hardships that would face them in the days ahead.

Just simply savoring that timeless moment of Christ's birth...

That's the kind of timelessness that my son celebrates each day.

And the kind that I vow to this Christmas.

As I look out my window each day wondering where all the people are in such a hurry to go, I'll be thankful that because of my son, I'm not going to be one of them...



By MichelleMGuppy@yahoo.com

The Gift of Unconditional Love

   
Christ gave to me unconditional love.

I never really understood what "unconditional love" meant, until my son Brandon brought "Life with Autism" into my life.

Here is a child who by the world's standards, can give me nothing.  He cannot show his love for me by searching for or making me the perfect gift.  He cannot tell me he loves me.  Most days I wonder if he even knows me, let alone loves me!

But I know that he does.

And I know that I love him whether he can buy me something to show his love, make me something to show his love, write to me that he loves me, or tell me that he loves me.

I love him when I get a rare hug, a sweet smile, when he's pinched, punched, or puked on me.

I love him whether he knows me or loves me!

That is unconditional love.

To give everything for someone who can give you nothing.

That's God's love for us.

That He gave everything for us.

For me.

For us who can truly give Him nothing.

He loved me when I didn't yet know Him.  He loved me when I did know Him but rejected him.  He loved me when I finally accepted Him and then hurt him.

He. Simply. Loves. Me. Unconditionally.

No. Matter. What.

What a perfect gift to know and receive this Christmas --- Christ's unconditional love!


Thank you God for the unconditional love whose cheek Mary kissed when he was born on that Christmas Day long, long ago...

Thank you God for the unconditional love whose cheek I kiss each night...

By MichelleMGuppy@yahoo.com