The Writing on the Wall

Sometimes life is so difficult to make out that it's hazy.  Some concepts seem just too impossible to grasp and I need a fresh way of looking at things.  Sometimes I need to have it written out for me plainly, so I can see exactly what lesson I'm supposed to learn, like King Belteshazzar with the writing on the wall.

Well, I'm certainly no king, but I did see the writing on the wall last Friday.  It was when I went into the girls' room to get Nyssa up for school.  She had already woken up on her own earlier and was just playing quietly.  She was all smiles with a pen in her hand.  Well, it wasn't exactly a pen, and she didn't have any paper.  The wall was her canvas.

She had somehow managed to go into my closet and take out one of those mega thick blue permanent poster board markers.  For those of you who have ever made pep rally signs, you know the ones I'm talking about, the ones that are about 3 inches in diameter with a tip just as large.  I took one look at the wall that was staring me in the face and cringed.  See, when Nyssa was a baby, I spent the entire 8 months that I knew I was pregnant painting her room.  I'll see if I can link to the pictures.  I am so glad I actually thought to take some pictures back then, because it's all a lovely memory now.  Most of the murals I painted are now covered in said marker.

Knowing then what I didn't know 24 hours earlier, that Nyssa does, in fact, have some components of Autism, I stopped to calmly ask her what she had done.  Her face brightened as she started to explain her artwork.  Over Gabriela's crib, where I had painted a picture of Jesus playing with children, was the alphabet and the numbers 1-10.  She explained that she wanted Gabriela to be able to know her letters when we sang them to her.  Same with the numbers.

Next, she took me a few steps to the left to a drawing of the American flag over her bed, complete with stars and stripes.  The stripes had alternating R and W on them.  Nyssa asked me if I knew what they meant.  With a lift of my brow and a sigh inside, I said, "red and white?"  "Yes," she beamed back at me.  "I didn't have those colors but I wanted her to know what color they are supposed to be.  And I am so glad you don't have those colors, dear, I thought to myself.

On the opposite wall, where I had drawn a tree with a bird, a bunny, zebra, and a goose walking in a meadow, along with the door that had a giraffe, she had written something to the affect of  This is Nyssa and Gabriela's room.  We are going to have a play called, "The Little Red Hen."

Lastly, she took me to my favorite painting I've ever done...of a lion and a lamb sitting together, with paws touching.  On and under it were pictures, some of which I couldn't make out.  Next to one of them was an arrow with the words, Gabriela's crib.  My darling daughter told me they were all pictures of things in their room, objects Gabriela would need to learn to identify..shirt, pants, socks, shoes, glasses, and a couple other items.

She had turned their room into a classroom, and she was wanting to teach Gabriela everything she needs to know.  In truth, she meant no harm.  She wanted to help her sister learn.  In actuality, this was where I had to choose my words very carefully.

"Honey, this is permanent marker.  It won't just come off like the chalk did."  Nyssa's look began to change.  "I appreciate you wanting to help your sister, but you know you're not allowed to write on the walls.  We need to see if we can get it to come off."  Nyssa was worried for a second, then she got some baby wipes and dutifully began scrubbing.  They usually work.  But this time, they didn't.  Neither did the Clorox wipes or the Mr. Clean Magic Eraser.

After doing some research, aka asking other mothers, I learned that maybe Simple Green would work.  Otherwise, we are looking at Killz and fresh paint.  I decided not to go overboard and clean it all immediately, but to let Nyssa live with it for a while to see the results.

I think that's how I go through life sometimes.  I get restless and don't know what to do, so I go rummaging where I don't belong and start messing with things in a way I shouldn't.  My intentions are good; I want to help and I enjoy doing things that help others.  The motives are right, but the actions are not.  So I get caught with a marker in my hand, showing off all the good deeds I did, and sweetly announce the reasons for my actions.  And I have no idea how it can affect someone else, because I can't clean up the mess.  What I thought was a simple solution was no solution at all, so I'm stuck looking at all I have done, covering up the pretty mural that was already there.

Thankfully, I have help when I'm ready to change.  I have my own Killz paint and a fresh coat of white that I can use to cover up the mistakes I have done, and I can help choose the next palate.  Only this time, I wait for the right time, ask questions, and then do it the right way.  The writing on the wall is a clear sign that blatantly points out my mistakes, but I'm so glad that, unlike that Babylonian king, I have that fresh paint that I can get every day to start anew!