"It's enough to drive a man crazy, it'll break a man's faith
It's enough to make him wonder, if he's ever been sane
When he's bleating for comfort from Thy staff and Thy rod
And the Heaven's only answer is the silence of God
It's enough to make him wonder, if he's ever been sane
When he's bleating for comfort from Thy staff and Thy rod
And the Heaven's only answer is the silence of God
It'll shake a man's timbers when he loses his heart
When he has to remember what broke him apart
This yoke may be easy but this burden is not
When the crying fields are frozen by the silence of God
When he has to remember what broke him apart
This yoke may be easy but this burden is not
When the crying fields are frozen by the silence of God
And if a man has got to listen to the voices of the mob
Who are reeling in the throes of all the happiness they've got
When they tell you all their troubles
Have been nailed up to that cross
Then what about the times when even followers get lost?
'Cause we all get lost sometimes
There's a statue of Jesus on a monastery knoll
In the hills of Kentucky, all quiet and cold
And He's kneeling in the garden, as silent as a Stone
All His friends are sleeping and He's weeping all alone
And the man of all sorrows, he never forgot
What sorrow is carried by the hearts that he bought
So when the questions dissolve into the silence of God
The aching may remain but the breaking does not
The aching may remain but the breaking does not
In the holy, lonesome echo of the silence of God"
If you know Brian, you know he is an Andrew Peterson fan. When we began to correspond in the summer/early fall of 2009, he wrote some of the words to this song in one of his letters. Immediately, I saw the depth of Brian, both of his heart and of his mind, and I instantly resonated with the sad emotion behind this song.
You know it is has been quite a year for us. When I think back to one year ago, we were awaiting the arrival of our Silas. We were three days from my due date, but of course, Silas followed in Caleb's footsteps and arrived eight days late. We hadn't yet had to deal with seizures, an autism diagnosis, confusion, heartache of watching your child sometimes fall apart, and of course, the silence of God.
When the school year began, I had a two year old and a few week old baby. Then my seizure hit in mid-September. Then another came in January. In February, Caleb's behavior sent us running to the doctor, and we were faced with the overwhelming feelings of raising a child with autism. Slight-yes- but still.
Adding now to this... it is very possible Silas has autism.
I don't wish to jump the gun. But I cannot bury my head in the sand. He is falling behind on a major developmental delay: feeding himself. In fact, from the time he was tiny, he has never really put toys in his mouth. I can't say "never", because I've seen it maybe twice. But on the cusp of his first birthday, he has not put any food in his mouth. He also refuses a water bottle or anything in his mouth at all.
These aren't good signs.
Caleb had a feeding delay. But he finally started at around ten months, while Silas still hasn't figured it out.
I could be wrong, and I pray that I am. The neurologist told us that the chances go up for subsequent children to have autism... how those words stung, and still do.
The bottom line is that it is too early to tell, because he'll need to be behind in several areas, but I have to brace myself for what may be.
Okay, folks. I don't wish to be overly dramatic, something I do tend to be. No surprise there, as I am a former English teacher and lover of a good (clean) Christian romance novel. It is not cancer, nor is it a death sentence. But it is a sad thing to watch your child lag behind. I had secretly been hoping, somewhere in a small pocket inside of me, that Silas could help Caleb. That his doing things on time would somehow cause Caleb to want to keep up.
We were at the library yesterday for a Mommy and Me story time, and a boy a few months younger than Caleb was answering questions so easily, and he spoke a full sentence without a problem. I could not help but stare, and feel an overwhelming sadness. Is it wrong to want my boy to all he can be, with nothing holding him back? To not do odd things? And the thought that Silas may face this battle, too... is my heart strong enough?
God has seemed silent to me for so long. I know He is not. I know that He is there. But I ache to feel his presence and to feel His arms wrapped around me once again. For I am haunted by the fact that this all is my fault, perhaps the result of that stupid vaccine I had received just before I became pregnant with Caleb.
This school year will begin much different from the last. And like this song, in my loneliest moments, I must remember He wept all alone. For me. And for my sons.
And He loves them far, far better than I ever could.
