Sometimes we get to see evidence that God has a purpose for our lives, or rather our eyes are opened to be able to see what has been in front of us all along. Having a kid named Logan and his family in my life, is definitely proof that God had a good plan for leading me to The Well Community Church. Here's a post I wrote for my church Kids Co blog. Click on the link and enjoy.
http://thewellcommunity.org/blogs/kids-connection/for-such-a-time-as-this
Sunday, September 11, 2016
Saturday, August 6, 2016
Blessing disguised as a curse
Having a sibling with a disability is a blessing that disguises itself as a curse. An outside view highlights the tantrums, drooling, hitting, yelling, biting, anger, confusion, awkward appearances, slurred speech, and all the rest of the embarrassing and permanently hard stuff. Once the difficult task of looking through and past the disguise is accomplished, the inside view reveals the truths that stands in front of the lies; laughter that breaks through tears, peace that isn't offended by your fears, and a deep, genuine love that binds them all together and enables you to truly see the blessing. You are rewarded with a capacity to understand and recognize hardship in all its forms and to gain wisdom from looking for the breathtaking beauty that can be found in pain. You learn how life giving and devastating it can be to celebrate every accomplishment. You learn that joy and sorrow have the same pulse, they do not exist apart from each other. But their fusion is not bad news. It's actually a relief.
People learn these things about blessings and curses from a myriad of life experiences throughout their lifetimes. The difference I see in siblings of people with disabilities is that we tend to learn them long before our peers do. This knowledge sets us apart in ways we didn't sign up for and can't control. It's easy to feel like an alien in a strange land when you know the true love that others are searching for and you know the answers to some of life's toughest questions. You know how to spot a curse disguise a mile away, call out the blessing, and run towards it.
Monday, July 11, 2016
Hope
There are so many times in our individual lives and in the world as a whole when confusion, fear, hate, and desperation threaten to swallow us. These times cause us to panic and swim towards the danger when we think we're swimming away from it. We feel trapped, hemmed in, and paralyzed. And we lose hope.
But God, who is rich in mercy (Eph. 2:4), has overcome all evil. He has defeated death. He is LORD, dependent on no one and no thing. He can and does give us a living hope that can never perish, spoil, or fade (1Peter 1:4). So no matter what explodes around us or in us, we have everything we need for life and godliness through the power of Him who called us by His own glory and goodness, He has given everything for life. (2 Peter 1:3).
Without Him we have nothing we need. With Him we have everything we need. When we look at the people around us we can see them as God sees them--His creation who He bought with a price. We can see them as being just as in need of salvation as I was before Jesus and just as lost as I would be with out Him. My fellow human beings are held captive by sin. Condemning them for their captivity may be what they deserve but then it's absolutely what I deserve and to the same degree. For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God (Romans 3:23) and While we were yet sinners, Christ died for us (Romans 5:8).
Understanding, insight, wisdom, compassion, and our security come freely from Him because He loves us and He is love. He has promised to never leave us or forsake us because His love endures forever. (Psalm 106:1) His steadfast love endures. Forever He endures.
But God, who is rich in mercy (Eph. 2:4), has overcome all evil. He has defeated death. He is LORD, dependent on no one and no thing. He can and does give us a living hope that can never perish, spoil, or fade (1Peter 1:4). So no matter what explodes around us or in us, we have everything we need for life and godliness through the power of Him who called us by His own glory and goodness, He has given everything for life. (2 Peter 1:3).
Without Him we have nothing we need. With Him we have everything we need. When we look at the people around us we can see them as God sees them--His creation who He bought with a price. We can see them as being just as in need of salvation as I was before Jesus and just as lost as I would be with out Him. My fellow human beings are held captive by sin. Condemning them for their captivity may be what they deserve but then it's absolutely what I deserve and to the same degree. For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God (Romans 3:23) and While we were yet sinners, Christ died for us (Romans 5:8).
Understanding, insight, wisdom, compassion, and our security come freely from Him because He loves us and He is love. He has promised to never leave us or forsake us because His love endures forever. (Psalm 106:1) His steadfast love endures. Forever He endures.
Saturday, May 14, 2016
The angry monster who came home from camp
This is a story from "way back" as Nathan would say. But as I encounter families in my work who are at this stage of life, it catapults me back to that time and that place and I am reminded of the pain, anguish, and deep lessons learned.
I remember Nathan going to camp for a whole week in summer. I know he went several years but I don't remember if it was a yearly thing. I don't really even remember the time being home without him. All I know is that it went by with lightening speed. It felt less like 7 days and more like 7 really long minutes of hold-your-breath anticipation of an explosion. It was like a New Year's Eve countdown that started days ahead of time, but didn't end with kissing. It ended with anger. Lots and lots of anger. Looking back, I think it might have been a whole week's worth of unexpressed, pent up emotion that he had been saving for us, like a reverse welcome home present.
He had spent a week without his own room to escape to. A week without his music. A time filled with fun activities but also a week of putting up with everyone else's moods and behaviors. The boundaries, rewards, and negative consequences were all different that week. I can imagine that being a very difficult adjustment.
He would say that he liked camp and would want to go again the next year so I guess it was worth it for all the fun he had. I was never quite sure it was worth it for me though. Sure, I got a week without him and I enjoyed it and missed him. But the truth is he would come home and instantly suck all the joy, and respite I'd just experienced, right out of me.
He was a ball of rage, an angry monster, who paced up and down the sidewalk outside, banned from coming inside until he calmed down a little bit. He reminded me of a predator in a movie, who was stalking his prey. I'd watch him from the edge of the front window as though I was in a shootout and needed the wall for protection. There he was huffing and puffing and pacing, his eyes wild with fury. If he made eye contact with me, he'd lunge at the window and I would flinch and duck because he scared me when he was out of control. I wanted to follow my mom's lead and not give him him any attention but I also wanted to watch him to see if he would self destruct or decompress. I wanted to understand him and wanted to help him. But more than those things, I wanted to know exactly where he was at all times so I wouldn't be the victim of a surprise attack.
He made me so angry because I wanted so badly for him to be able to come home like a normal person and not like a home invader! I felt like camp should be taken away from him, as punishment. But he had already gone and waiting a year for a consequence was ludicrous and ineffectual. I just wanted him to feel what we were feeling, to know the pain he was inflicting on the rest of us. I wanted him to suffer enough to change his behavior.
But my logic was flawed. The fact is he was suffering. He was sleep deprived, hungry, and actually happy to be home. So the answer was not to punch him out,unfortunately. The answer was to welcome him home, like the prodigal son, with unconditional love and compassion. He still couldn't come inside without taking a few deep breaths but he didn't need any more punishment than he was already experiencing in his own body. He knew home was a safe place to act this way. He knew he was a member of this family and that would never change, even if he self-destructed. Eventually, he would come into the house and the process of reentry would continue. After some time in his room blaring his gospel quartet music, eating some good meals, and sleeping in his own bed for a few nights, he would be back to his usual self.
Though these experiences, God teaches me more about Himself. When I am completely out of control, He sees me. He knows my weaknesses and my depravity. He is acquainted with all my ways (Psalm 139). Yet He never leaves me or forsakes me. He never regrets His decision to send His Son to die for me. He never fails to show me that His grace covers all my sin and His love endures forever.
I remember Nathan going to camp for a whole week in summer. I know he went several years but I don't remember if it was a yearly thing. I don't really even remember the time being home without him. All I know is that it went by with lightening speed. It felt less like 7 days and more like 7 really long minutes of hold-your-breath anticipation of an explosion. It was like a New Year's Eve countdown that started days ahead of time, but didn't end with kissing. It ended with anger. Lots and lots of anger. Looking back, I think it might have been a whole week's worth of unexpressed, pent up emotion that he had been saving for us, like a reverse welcome home present.
He had spent a week without his own room to escape to. A week without his music. A time filled with fun activities but also a week of putting up with everyone else's moods and behaviors. The boundaries, rewards, and negative consequences were all different that week. I can imagine that being a very difficult adjustment.
He would say that he liked camp and would want to go again the next year so I guess it was worth it for all the fun he had. I was never quite sure it was worth it for me though. Sure, I got a week without him and I enjoyed it and missed him. But the truth is he would come home and instantly suck all the joy, and respite I'd just experienced, right out of me.
He was a ball of rage, an angry monster, who paced up and down the sidewalk outside, banned from coming inside until he calmed down a little bit. He reminded me of a predator in a movie, who was stalking his prey. I'd watch him from the edge of the front window as though I was in a shootout and needed the wall for protection. There he was huffing and puffing and pacing, his eyes wild with fury. If he made eye contact with me, he'd lunge at the window and I would flinch and duck because he scared me when he was out of control. I wanted to follow my mom's lead and not give him him any attention but I also wanted to watch him to see if he would self destruct or decompress. I wanted to understand him and wanted to help him. But more than those things, I wanted to know exactly where he was at all times so I wouldn't be the victim of a surprise attack.
He made me so angry because I wanted so badly for him to be able to come home like a normal person and not like a home invader! I felt like camp should be taken away from him, as punishment. But he had already gone and waiting a year for a consequence was ludicrous and ineffectual. I just wanted him to feel what we were feeling, to know the pain he was inflicting on the rest of us. I wanted him to suffer enough to change his behavior.
But my logic was flawed. The fact is he was suffering. He was sleep deprived, hungry, and actually happy to be home. So the answer was not to punch him out,
Though these experiences, God teaches me more about Himself. When I am completely out of control, He sees me. He knows my weaknesses and my depravity. He is acquainted with all my ways (Psalm 139). Yet He never leaves me or forsakes me. He never regrets His decision to send His Son to die for me. He never fails to show me that His grace covers all my sin and His love endures forever.
Friday, May 13, 2016
I can't help it, he's my role model.
It was Sunday, September 20, 2015. I was visiting my parents, as I often do on Sundays. When he's there, I always show up. I respond every time. If he's there for the weekend, i often get a text on Friday evening. He tells my mom, "Text her this 'Go Dodgers! Come see me. your brother". And I respond, "Go Dodgers! I'll be there on Sunday." If I listen hard, I can hear him exclaim from 30 miles away "Yessssssss!!! She's coming!"
When I show up, he is waiting for me. He used to wait all weekend but now he knows I come after church and usually after they have eaten lunch. If he's had a rough day, and is in a bad mood, then he won't be there but if it's any other kind of day--average, fare, borderline, meh, good, great--then he is the first to see me and announce my arrival. Before I even open my car door, he opens the front door and yells, "It's about time you got here! Hi sister! Go Dodgers sister! Here's a cold one! Here you go sister! A nice cold pepsi!!" In the time it took me to turn my car off, grab my purse, and get out of my car, he had already seen me, gotten, up, gone to the fridge, grabbed a can of pepsi, run to the front door, flung it open, and started celebrating my arrival.
He doesn't do greetings half way. He either ignores you and disappears into his room or he mauls you with excitement.
He used to open the can of pepsi for me but, after years of yelling at him for that, he finally stopped. What can I say, I felt strongly about opening my own soda.
So back to September 20, 2015. I wasn't sure yet but I was getting closer to making the decision to stop drinking soda. What would that do to me? How would he react? I could think of a million excuses not to stop. But I found myself floating the idea out there to my parents that day. He was in the room but I didn't think he was listening. I said, "I think I need to stop drinking pepsi." I felt myself cringe in anticipation of--I don't know what--a bad reaction, a mournful reaction, something else that would make it harder for me to stop and validate my excuses. I think just the act of saying out loud was made it more real in a way that sacred me a little. I knew I'd been dragging my feet as I searched for an excuse to build a foundation on. I even thought that since this might be hard for him, maybe I shouldn't do it. I was getting altruistic in my desperation!
Then he made a simple statement that, looking back, closed the door on all my excuses. He said, "Drink water! It's healthier!" And just like that, the deal was done. I was at the end of the road of reasons to keep my habit. The next day I had my last drink of pepsi.
It's been almost 9 months since that pivotal day. And as I've pulled up to my parents house, I still hear, "It's about time you're here!!"
It was this experience piled on top of many others that I realized, I can't help it, he's my role model.
When I show up, he is waiting for me. He used to wait all weekend but now he knows I come after church and usually after they have eaten lunch. If he's had a rough day, and is in a bad mood, then he won't be there but if it's any other kind of day--average, fare, borderline, meh, good, great--then he is the first to see me and announce my arrival. Before I even open my car door, he opens the front door and yells, "It's about time you got here! Hi sister! Go Dodgers sister! Here's a cold one! Here you go sister! A nice cold pepsi!!" In the time it took me to turn my car off, grab my purse, and get out of my car, he had already seen me, gotten, up, gone to the fridge, grabbed a can of pepsi, run to the front door, flung it open, and started celebrating my arrival.
He doesn't do greetings half way. He either ignores you and disappears into his room or he mauls you with excitement.
He used to open the can of pepsi for me but, after years of yelling at him for that, he finally stopped. What can I say, I felt strongly about opening my own soda.
So back to September 20, 2015. I wasn't sure yet but I was getting closer to making the decision to stop drinking soda. What would that do to me? How would he react? I could think of a million excuses not to stop. But I found myself floating the idea out there to my parents that day. He was in the room but I didn't think he was listening. I said, "I think I need to stop drinking pepsi." I felt myself cringe in anticipation of--I don't know what--a bad reaction, a mournful reaction, something else that would make it harder for me to stop and validate my excuses. I think just the act of saying out loud was made it more real in a way that sacred me a little. I knew I'd been dragging my feet as I searched for an excuse to build a foundation on. I even thought that since this might be hard for him, maybe I shouldn't do it. I was getting altruistic in my desperation!
Then he made a simple statement that, looking back, closed the door on all my excuses. He said, "Drink water! It's healthier!" And just like that, the deal was done. I was at the end of the road of reasons to keep my habit. The next day I had my last drink of pepsi.
It's been almost 9 months since that pivotal day. And as I've pulled up to my parents house, I still hear, "It's about time you're here!!"
It was this experience piled on top of many others that I realized, I can't help it, he's my role model.
Tuesday, November 24, 2015
Don't you even want kids?
It happens almost every time. I am playing with a kid or just showing someone a picture of me and a kid and then the question comes...
So the next time I'm asked the inevitable question, it won't matter so much what I say. I want it to be a chance for me to remember, not the kids I don't have, but the ones I do.
Don't you want kids?
Other times it's phrased as a compliment...You should have kids! You have so much love to give!
What's the best way to respond? I'm not entirely sure but here are some of the things I've said:
"Not by myself. I'm too selfish for that. I need someone who I can tag team with."
"Maybe some day!"
"I get to have fun with these kids and then give them back to their parents :)"
I admit that in my heart, I do feel like I want kids.
What's the best way to respond? I'm not entirely sure but here are some of the things I've said:
"Not by myself. I'm too selfish for that. I need someone who I can tag team with."
"Maybe some day!"
"I get to have fun with these kids and then give them back to their parents :)"
I admit that in my heart, I do feel like I want kids.
But I also feel even more strongly that I don't need to have kids in order to love them. I have close friends with kids for whom I would give my life. A few months ago, I counted how many kids that applies to and I came up with 18! And I occurred to me that I would never have time to love that many kids if I had my own. God has given me 18 kids to love and I'm really amazed at His grace.
So the next time I'm asked the inevitable question, it won't matter so much what I say. I want it to be a chance for me to remember, not the kids I don't have, but the ones I do.
Thursday, October 22, 2015
30 days after the break-up
In case you're wondering how I'm doing after my break-up with Pepsi (and all other forms of sugar), here are your answers. I broke it down into two lists because that's what made sense to me today.
Things I miss
Things I don't miss
I was joking today that I should get my 30 day chip because I've been "sober" for a month. Being a pepsi-holic is not even remotely as serious as being an alcoholic but I do have an understanding of what it is to have an addiction. It took me 20 years to realize that pepsi and sugar weren't just unhealthy for me, they were what was making me sick on an almost daily basis. It's been a strange month in many ways. It has sucked and been really good. And by good, I mean awful. I don't recommend being allergic to sugar but I do recommend figuring out your food issues, even if it is the trendy thing to do. Do it anyway. You might have to let go of everything you hold dear but then again you might discover you were holding on to something that was hurting you. It might suck but then again it might be awful. Happy 30 days everyone!
Things I miss
- the TASTE, it never disappointed
- the first drink from an ice cold can
- using it to celebrate, morn, and every occasion in between
- the anticipation of the next one
- having it be something people could give me to show their love for me
- the comfort I found in drinking it and letting it's effects wash over me
Things I don't miss
- the extra pounds
- the stomach aches
- the diarrhea, gas, and bloating
- the swollen ankles and feet
- the constant need to know where I would get my next one
- the physical and emotional crashes I'd have if I didn't have one
- the dependence on it for comfort and balance physically and emotionally
- the money it cost me and others to always keep a supply of it everywhere I went
I was joking today that I should get my 30 day chip because I've been "sober" for a month. Being a pepsi-holic is not even remotely as serious as being an alcoholic but I do have an understanding of what it is to have an addiction. It took me 20 years to realize that pepsi and sugar weren't just unhealthy for me, they were what was making me sick on an almost daily basis. It's been a strange month in many ways. It has sucked and been really good. And by good, I mean awful. I don't recommend being allergic to sugar but I do recommend figuring out your food issues, even if it is the trendy thing to do. Do it anyway. You might have to let go of everything you hold dear but then again you might discover you were holding on to something that was hurting you. It might suck but then again it might be awful. Happy 30 days everyone!
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