Loving that response

There isn't an artist out there that doesn't derive a certain sense of satisfaction out of positive reactions to their work. For some of us we struggle to keep that satisfaction in place bounded up with humility. But I also feel that if it is kept in check that there is a "rightness" to it.

I guess some of that goes along with my concept that we are a creative people because God is creative and he made us in his image. I think that sense of satisfaction might be God's way of telling us that he might feel some certain mirrored feeling when we stop to admire his creations. That he feels pleasure when we derive joy from what he has made, and that he has intentionally created so much for us. Not just the trees and sunsets of nature but the story lines of history and life. I think he is well- pleased when we take a step back and allow ourselves to be awestruck by his unfathomable talent.

This musing brought to you by my own paler versions of the feeling. Today I had a moment where one of my creations elicited a response, a special response, one that I will long remember and be satisfied with.

You hear a lot of the same things when you are an artist. "Wow!" "I could never do that." "You are amazing." etc. and there is pleasure in that. But some reactions don't leave you readily. For instance one of the first times I brought a decorated cake into summer camp - to give to the staff there, it was a small cake, decorated to look like a wheel of swiss cheese with a tiny mouse that was standing on the cheese dressed like Indiana Jones. He had his tail curled up instead of a whip. I had fun with the cake, and it matched the camp theme.

I had meant to drop it quietly off at the office during morning extended care. I got out the door before the "alarm" was raised. But was in the lobby as excited 20 somethings and teen staff started making a bee-line for the office. I will never forget their exuberant enthusiasm. I stayed and watched. They didn't know me, or that I had made the cake. I watched the camp director get called on a walkie generally reserved for emergencies. I watched the laughter and the pointing out of the details like the hat and the coiled tail. The camp director would later show the entire camp the cake in general assembly.

I learned that summer that it is hard to beat the appreciation of hungry young adults who generally don't eat breakfast and who do not have to count their calories. I learned that when you can tailor something to match a theme or personalities - that it makes things even better. I learned that being able to give people joy is a force that drives me so much more than personal pride in what I make - and I am glad that it does, because I have to fight to keep that pride in check some days.

Today's reaction was something incredibly sweet. I work in a room full of some of the most special people that God has handcrafted. I work with students who have multiple handicaps. It is a room for the severely disabled, and it is populated by children who will teach you lessons so big that you cannot articulate them.

It is also populated by some of the most caring individuals I have ever met - special education aides. One of our caregivers had her last day today, as she will be out of the room through the holidays for some surgery. We wanted to celebrate Christmas and Get Well all at once and the idea came up to make a cake that looked like the board game Operation. (Humor is a finely honed survival skill in this room.) And so I made a cake that represented the likeness. I was pleased with the result and looking forward to my coworkers reactions.

I hadn't counted on reactions from my students. Freddy* (name changed) has severe autism. He has limited words and food is not something he enjoys, at all. He stays away from it unless it comes prepackaged, and even there his hyper senses allow him to notice changes in the composition of ingredients that the rest of us would never notice.  Freddy avoids any food brought in.

Jake* rarely pays attention to it, and when he does it is mostly to try and get a reaction out of the adults in the room. To garner negative attention. His defiant behaviors surface if asked if he would like some. He blares out a growl and swipes his hand in the air in dismissal. If pressed he'll shove food away with sometimes disastrous results.

So today I saw my coworker grinning at the cake. On one side of her Freddy was standing raptly making fluttering hand motions over the cake. He would mime pressing the nose and putting his fingers together like tweezers. Since this type of recognition is rare, it was something celebratory for all of us. Evidently Freddy has played Operation, and it made a big impression on him.

Jake stood on the other side, behaving for once instead of shoving or shouting, looking at the cake too, and when my co-worker offered him some he said OK. And it floored us. For me, it was absolutely one of the best reactions I've ever had to a cake that I've made, and it will be something that I treasure.

One nonverbal reaction that many might pass by, not knowing or understanding the significance, and another "OK" might not seem like much, yet I felt the same sense of joy today as I did with a camp full of hungry young adults. And just two students made that happen. Two very special people.

And I sit here and in my musings I thank God for them. It is easy to ask "why, why God?" so many days "why did this have to be this way?" "why couldn't you change it?" "why not do a miracle, and make them better?"

And I don't know why, to be honest.

And there is heartbreak here, sometimes daily.

But there is joy too, and it is joy unparalleled and sometimes unexplainable to the outside world. So I don't know if you are reading this and you will understand, but if you do I hope that I can throw a taste of that joy over to you.

There is joy in blowing balloons up.
There is joy in slamming the covers of a book together and feeling the breeze on your face.
There is joy in toys (especially noisy ones, and new ones, and new noisy ones are the absolute best).
There is joy in TV time and music and drums and sensory bins, and floor puzzles and running fast.
And some days there is joy in something unexpected - like cake.

Yes there is heartbreak here, but Christmas joy comes almost just as often.
So I feel like I've had a chance to see one of God's most fragile and beautiful works. And I doubt it will stop me from asking why, but today, today I will say "OK" and be thankful for the God who is bigger than I am and who creates masterpieces out of what we consider those who are broken and outcast.

So take a breath and look around yourself, you need to see His gallery sometime.