The Rant 

Sunday rush to church…I was a bit upset that Papa chose to work in the morning, thus less hands getting the kids ready. We were late.

Amor was getting irritable. Sometimes, it just feels like her irritability is contagious as the boys too got cranky too….or maybe even, they were all feeding off my cranky mood.

In the taxi ride, Nathan started to cry, yell and bite his arm. Papa tried to massage and relax him, but it seemed to trigger more yelling. I told him where he was going wrong and how to approach Nathan’s crying, just to get a snapped back at me. Papa too must have caught the cranky.

Nathan has come a long way from being so violent to becoming so gentle. But days like this remind me that there is so much more to conquer in this autism journey. I took a deep breath, sighed and tears just rolled down my eyes. Tired. Another one of those days when it would just be easier to give up…

The taxi driver must have been keenly observing the family dynamics, because he almost bumped the bus in front of us…twice. Could things get worse? I was in a dark moment, just when I was thinking about difficulties and giving up, death became apparent! 

I was reminded about the time when Nathan got his autism diagnosis. After many experts (Doctors, Therapists, online autism resources) gave such dim prognoses, my death seemed like the easier option. But of course I wouldn’t do anything crazy and leave such a huge burden on my Husband.

My rant didn’t stop there. As I pulled out my wallet to pay the taxi driver, I was reminded that this month, I have spent over my allocated budget because I kept buying softer shoes/slippers to support the pain I’ve been feeling on my knees and heels. As I got Nathan off the taxi, the driver said, “Have a nice weekend, don’t be upset.” He probably saw the tears rolling down my eyes. “Damn,” I thought, as more tears ran down my cheeks. Now I wished I had a paper bag to wear on my head, because the want-to-be strong woman in me wanted to cover up my feelings.

In the taxi ride, I was thinking, if I died at that moment, would God be condemning? Or would God still love me the way I know He loves me? From all the times to rant, why pick the getting-ready-for-church time?  

Despite the heartaches that morning, I knew the God of perfect love would keep loving me and protecting my family, even if I behave like a rebellious teen sometimes. Yes, giving up life was an easy option, but there are so much more to live for. 

I was wondering if there was something in the Sunday message that would speak to me….

Towards the end, the message was: We were created to go through life at camel’s speed (slow yet with the confidence of God’s provisions, even in the most arid deserts) not at the stressful pace of a cheetah.

I agree with the blessings that comes with enjoying each step we take in life, instead of rushing to catch up with our material needs. And yet I made the morning rush, even the rush to get to church, take control of my whole day. If I just took that morning to stride a camel’s pace, maybe all the rant could have been avoided.

Or maybe things were perfect just the way they were…The rant helped me realise which speed my life would truly benefit from.

Be blessed with life at camel’s speed!

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