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I title this blog Take 2 because I posted earlier this week on facebook regarding matters of social distancing when I was not in the head space to be writing or posting.
I stand by the content, I redact the attitude.
And, in the vein of honesty, Take 2 could be applied to numerous moments of my week. Maybe you could relate to this as well?
I started homeschooling my first child in 2006, when he was 5 years old. I was a homeschooling Mom for the following 12+ years. We have participated in Co-ops, Virtual School, Hybrid Schools, and Community Resource Classes. It was, to this day, the most challenging work I have ever attempted. Honestly, though, I loved it. I am really close to each of my children...and I attribute the culture of homeschooling for a lot of that.
In Evangelical Christian circles over the last few years the phrase brokenness has made appearance so often in both word and concept that I have observed an unintended dilution taking place. The devastation at the nucleus of the word ‘brokenness’ has been replaced by the equivalent of an Insta-beauty twenty-year old sporting her fake glasses and messy bun trying to convince us all of what a wreck she is through humble-brag apologies. Meanwhile, our naked faces, bloodshot eyes, and messy homes realize there is ultimately no safe place...even our messes have to look attractive. It’s freaking exhausting.
Whoa. 7 years ago tomorrow we left Florida. I remember the great unknown like it was yesterday. Having never been to Michigan, I was SHOCKED and disturbed when we drove NORTH of CANADA to inhabit our new Mid-West home.
Leaving was the worst. That short season of goodbyes is vivid, still.
I spend a good portion of my week looking for Cole’s silhouette among the thousands of newbies at basic in photos like this. (Blurred for anonymity) Have yet to find him. But, this picture a few weeks back shifted something in me. I was startled. I didn’t really know this existed. One the one hand...there are rows upon rows of boy-men in prayer. But also, they are actually still boy-men. Shaved heads, camo, and dog tags juxtaposed by the lingering traces of baby fat in their baby faces.
I’ve started reading James Hatch’s bio, Touching the Dragon, this weekend. James was a Naval Seal, who, in 2009, had his femur shattered by enemy fire during a rescue mission intended to retrieve Bowe Bergdahl
Cole leaves a week from tomorrow.
This interim space is more burdensome than I emotionally budgeted for.
I actually did not budget anything past his grad party, to be honest.
Valentine’s Day 2019
Two weeks ago the plan was to finish the Oxford Schools Early College program and graduate with his AA in May of 2020. And, as things often go, in a time of suddenlys, my first born, Colie, decided to leave the program, graduate high school with his 43 college credits this May, and join the Army.
We didn’t see this coming.
I first read The Giving Tree in Ms. Connelly’s 1st grade class. I mean, it was ok and all...but I preferred laughing obnoxiously out-loud with Billy Costello and Shannon Zito listening to Shel Silvertein’s 18 Flavor’s, and how Peggy Ann McKay feigned sickeness in a last ditch effort to skip school until her glorious revelation that she woke up on a Saturday. Now, that was where the literary prowess was at!
The Giving Tree? Meh, it was kind of a downer.
36-ish years later tonight I sat down to read The Giving Tree to Whit. If truth be told, I had unsuccessfully spent the prior 5 minutes searching for my copy of Where The Sidewalk Ends, all before succumbing to plan B. I guess some things never change.
Admittedly, I can get lost in the details. Such has been the case during two separate Amazon.com visits, searching for the perfect alarm clocks for my boys. Months ago, I spent some time I will never gain back trying to find an efficient, and yet aesthetic alarm clock for each of them. Two separate times I have closed down my browser with nothing saved to my cart. So, you can imagine my surprise on Tuesday morning when a random package from Amazon showed up at my door with 2 RCA alarm clocks inside.
I googled: How to figure out who sent me an amazon package without a receipt.
It’s not something I actually talk about a lot, but one of the weightier things about having a child with special needs is the designated isolation.
There is a physical isolation that happens as a result of not being able to attend, for example, a Sunday afternoon barbecue without either Tim or I having to be ‘on.’ If one of us wants to sit with the adults, the other parent will be required to entertain, engage, and chase Whitney the entire time. Then your left with two choices… guilt or work, and both lead to fatigue, when the purpose of any given event was to restore. I am not using an absolute for dramatic effect when I say that there are no relaxing family outings. This is a staple of the grieving process for parents like us.
As a family, we decided to eat our New Year’s Day black-eyed-peas-with-Louisiana-hot-sauce dinner in front of our fireplace. Partly because this inviting setting felt demonstratively festive, but mostly because I live in Michigan, and it is ridiculously frigid in my dining room these days.
Ridiculously.
After dinner, Tim asked the kids to share their goals for 2018. One by one, in between the boys wrestling on the couch, the dog growling while play-fighting with the cat, and Whitney whining/crying/talking 100% of the time, we went around the room and shared. As Tim was wrapping up, and speaking some beautiful encouragement over our family, I asked him to stop.
‘I can’t even focus on anything you are saying…let’s put her in her room to play for a second…’
But he reminded me that this is our life, and I knew what he meant...Whit’s a part of our family, she needs to stay.
A few weeks ago I heard this term, used by Christine Cain in an interview she was giving, coined ‘Compassion Fatigue.’ For all intents and purposes, compassion fatigue in the church can be described as the exhaustion of the soul, mind, and spirit that Christians face, as they absorb the weighty realities that exist between vision campaigns and hope rallies, and the un-glamourous, messy work of the gospel.
Anne Lamott describes in her book, Some Assembly Required, a visit she took to India. Moved by compassion towards the begging children she saw on the streets of India, she handed them some of her currency. And, as an unintended consequence, she was mobbed.
A few months ago I asked Eric Brown, a gifted photographer from the Nashville, TN area, if he would be willing to share the story of his daughter Pearl on the Flesh & Gold podcast. Pearl was born with Holoprosencephaly, a condition where the brain of an embryo fails to form into two hemispheres. In the last almost 5 years, Pearl has survived surmounting medical difficulties, and her loving family has endured them right by her side.
Quite unexpectedly over the last few months, I found my heart deeply transformed not only by the life of sweet Pearl, but by the humility and the perspective of this profound family. In a world that rewards us for building platforms, achieving greatness, and flexing our strengths, the insights that the Browns carry with them concerning value, and weakness, and worth, emphasize the refreshing grace and freedom found in a life that abides. And Pearl has a powerful way of revealing the generous and abundant love of God; she affords us a glimpse into the eyes of the One who looks at the heart.
'I believe that every child has a purpose.'
Meet Tara Watson, and her incredibly adorable baby boy, Jesse. Like 1 in 700 babies born in the United States, Jesse was born with Down Syndrome. And although the Watson family considers Jesse the greatest blessing in their lives, the road they have walked has been far from easy. The initial shock and fear accompanying his diagnosis was only compounded by the continual pressure from Tara's doctor to terminate. Later, she endured extended periods of isolation during which she faced the threat of Jesse's multiple medical complications. In this interview, she shares openly about the hope, perspective, and grace, she found during her times of suffering. Tara generously provides tried and true encouragement for others in similar situations. And, regardless of chromosomal differences, she teaches us how to celebrate every child's life, reminding us that each soul is born with distinct and beautiful purpose.
Sacrificial praise is something that we can only offer up now; only from this side of Heaven. Once we are in the fullness of His Presence before the throne of Jesus, it will be as natural and compelling to worship and praise God as breathing.
And, that is why those who have deeply suffered, those whom have experienced grave loss, and yet, say with their lives, ‘He is Good,’ captivate my attention. I marvel at the grace on their lives, and am humbled by the magnitude of their surrender. I admire the honesty of their brokenness, and I want to glean from their God-refined wisdom and perspective.
Jessica Hyde is such a woman as this. I first heard a portion of her testimony, read by Katherine Wolf, author of Hope Heals…
I guarantee that all of us have places of joy and wonder in our lives coinciding with areas of challenge and unanswered prayers. Today, I want to introduce you to Myssi Brown, and I hope that her interview takes you into a deeper peace and comfort in the Lord. My aim is that as you listen, you will see that 'no season in life is without value’ and that, in Christ, we can freely be both weak and strong, and abide with purpose and a holy joy.
Myssi could have discussed a myriad of life experiences. Within the last decade she came close to losing her life during the delivery of her 4th child, she became a special needs Mom, and she lost her best friend to cancer. To be honest, though, you would almost never realize any of this unless you outright asked her. She is full of life, and hope, and also refreshingly honest about the hardest places.
Last month, as my oldest daughter and I were recapping her Fall ballet season, I asked her what her 2017 dance goals were. She replied, “Miss Melissa told me that I need to work on ‘Owning My Space.’” She explained that ‘owning her space’ is about dancing with confidence from the center of who you are. It is a way of commanding and presenting your art without shame or fear, assured that you have something to offer, regardless of your imperfections and mistakes.
That phrase stirred in my spirit for over a month. Own Your Space.
The heaping mound of responsibilities and disappointments accumulated by my late 30's had tried, sneakily and quietly, to drown out my childlike instinct to live with wonder and celebration. Over the past few years I have rediscovered the celebration of the uneventful today, as if reunited with someone I forgot I once knew. Maybe it's truer to say that pain and loss, in its universal way, has forced me to find joy in the simpler things of life.
One of the purely bright sides of walking in the shoes as a Special Needs parent has been experiencing the unfiltered happiness of our baby girl's successes. And let me tell you, every letter of the word 'success' has been wildly redefined…
I was radically saved as a 16 year old.
Jesus, and the purpose of the cross, became so real to me. Thankfully, since then, GOD's existence hasn't repetitively been a struggle for me.
But to be honest, the question of His goodness has.
Is GOD really good? How does that play out practically in my life? What does it mean when prayers don't seemingly get answered? Can I truly trust HIM? And what would happen if the unspeakable happens? Would I remain faithful? Would I remain soft?
These are questions I am sure many of us have asked ourselves, if we are being quite honest. Consequently, these are the stories and questions that I am driven to explore…
In this episode of Flesh & Gold Amber boldly shares about her first experiences with GOD as a child, and then she testifies about a powerful, sometimes painful, time of transformation, refinement, and strengthening in her walk and identity with the LORD. Listen as she discusses the powerful work that the LORD has done in her life. She shares how the LORD has freed her from striving, unbalanced driven-ness, and anxiety, and has enabled her to live from a place of rest and peace. She shares such a powerful story!
What do you do when the way you wanted things to work out don’t align with the way things are currently working out?
“My hope, and my security is not going to be...in my husband’s sobriety.”
I called Meredith back in December and pitched her my vision for starting a podcast featuring extraordinary people sharing their stories of grace, hope and redemption. Naturally, I told her, she was the first person who came to my mind. I asked her to pray about it, and let me know. Right from the start Meredith was on board, and all together humbly confused as to why I would choose her first.
If you listen to her interview, you will understand.
Clear as day it was, 6 years ago. I’m standing in the kindergarten Cognitive Impairment class the week before school starts at a ‘teacher meet and greet.’ It had only been 3 life changing months prior that I choke cried on the phone with Kristi, driving home after attending Whitney’s 3 year Comprehensive IEP Eval. I saw the report results. 40 pages front and back, all the different data points telling the same story.