There's a reason

We used to have a pillow that said, "I'm why we don't have nice things." It used to be Victor's. For reading inside his teepee. For some reason the Good Doctor gave it to Lucy. I'm not sure why. My questioning has nothing to do with whether or not the sentiment applies to both of them. It does. But why hand it from one source of destruction to another?

And...true to form...

That's the end of that pillow.

So, this morning, when Victor was leaving for Camp Socks and I entered the basement to find what looked like the remains of one or more kitchen bowls smashed to smithereens, I was frustrated but not surprised. What's new? I postponed the things on my to-do list for these three hours of bliss and got out the vacuum cleaner and trash can instead.

Happens all the time. Trauma. ADHD. Dysregulation. Unknown causes. Who knows what goes on in that little mind? (Notice the tic tac toe board drawn on the wall as well? And the missing paint? Guess if it was the child or the dog.)

Except this morning. We got a glimpse as Isaac drove Victor to camp while I cleaned up...

Victor: I want to call Mom and apologize for the mess I made.

Isaac: How did that happen?

Victor: I wanted to see what note it made.

Isaac: What?????

Victor: Well, I dropped the bowl by accident first and I heard what note it made. I knew it could make different notes. I wanted to see what note it made if I dropped it somewhere else. Except it broke. And then I felt bad so I spread it out to hide it.

And there you have it. A glimpse into what goes on in that little mind. Must be difficult to be inquisitive, to lack the connection between actions and consequences, have perfect pitch, to hear the notes made by dropping bowls, to try to create new tones, only to find that...surprise, surprise...bowls break.

And there you have, too, a glimpse into our day. All day. Every day. Yes, we chose this life. Yes, some days it's really difficult. Yes, there are moments of victory. And yes, there is great unexplainable joy when we take it all to the One who isn't surprised by any of it, not even to find smashed pieces of bowl all over the basement floor. Not even to find that bowls have specific tones when they drop.

My house might have holes in walls, missing paint, tic tac toe boards where they don't belong. It might be chaotic and loud and messy. I might have had a lot of nice, irreplaceable, sentimental things broken to smithereens. But people are more important than things and that's the lesson that God continues to have to teach me each and every day.

And some days, you have to learn to find joy in the note you hear when a bowl is dropped.