Giving up the Need to Know

I can explain almost everything around here--no matter how odd. How did the trash can get in the living room? Why is the mail on the curb? What's that brown smear on the towel? Where is the scotch tape? Do we have any Parmesan? What time is...?

As moms who make a vocation of studying their spirited, strong-willed, challenging, indigo, otherwise unique children, I can nearly read Reid's mind. True confession: I take pride in that. It's second nature to surmise a motivation for almost any of his behaviors. I'm not saying I can control, extinguish, or modify them but, almost always I can hazard a good guess as to the method behind the madness. Small comfort, I know.

This baseball, Exhibit A, is an exception to the rule. I have no idea where it came from!

When I asked Reid, "what does it say?" he answered, "Babe Ruth." Obviously. You do the math (or spell check as it were)!

It is Reid's writing for certain. But I am clueless as to who, what, when, where or why it got autographed. What brought Babe to mind? Who explained the concept of signing to him? What precipitated the burst of appropriateness and synergy of understanding?

I silence the barrage of questions running through my mind in order to revel in the independence that it marks. He's achieved something I can't explain! I didn't witness it happening and I can't decipher its arrival. Good for him! And oddly, newly, surprisingly, gratefully, there is freedom in letting that be.

In my mind, the limited edition autographed baseball immediately became a tangible symbol of Reid's increased comprehension of the world. It's also a momento of the joy that is mine (did I say joy? not despair, fear or regret) when I relinquish the need to know every minutia of his daily life. Truth be told, it's really control fueled by pride and fear. Sayonara!

I just finished studying the tabernacle of God in Beth Moore's A Woman's Heart. This tent of meeting that the Israelites carried through the wilderness for 40 years was God's dwelling place with them. A minutia of detail surround its construction and every color and composition of thread used; every position of every piece of furniture and curtain in it has meaning. One could re-do that workbook 5 times and still be discovering. There is sooo much we don't know about the symbolism of Christ, about how to pray, about how the spiritual world works. Marvel in it! And let it be...for God to know and show you if and when He decides you need to know.

Wasn't this the fatal flaw of Eve in the Garden? Her driving motivation to gain "the knowledge of good and evil" was what the enemy held out to her as reason enough to break a simple, solitary rule established for her own good.

Like a maturing child learning that I actually can wait for Christmas morning without peeking at presents, I am learning from Reid, from autism, from the ever-loving, patient teacher, Lord, to trust and not know everything. I don't have--don't want--to have all the answers.

“Who has known the mind of the Lord? Or who has been his counselor?” Romans 11:33-35

God commanded the Man, "You can eat from any tree in the garden, except from the Tree-of-Knowledge-of-Good-and-Evil. Don't eat from it. The moment you eat from that tree, you're dead." Genesis 2:15-17

And God raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus, in order that in the coming ages he might show the incomparable riches of his grace... Ephesians 2:6-8