Miscarriage and Mother's Day

Emptiness. That’s the feeling I remember most. In the place of where a heartbeat should have been, there was nothing; leaving my own heart with a feeling of emptiness.

It was Mother’s Day weekend almost eleven years ago that I lost this precious child, but time has not made the very real memory of it all fade away. How can you be so absolutely in love with a little life that has only existed for a few short weeks? I’m not sure how to explain it, but you can. 

I remember breaking down in tears at the hospital as they drew my blood and conducted tests to further prove what I already knew to be true, I had experienced a miscarriage. And then, to my surprise, a second heartbeat. I had miscarried a twin.

I have heard of other women miscarrying a twin. I have also heard of the “Vanishing Twin Syndrome”. But I have never personally known another woman who has experienced this. Apparently the people in our community during this time were not familiar with this happening and awkwardly offered up their condolences by saying things like “I’m really sorry, but at least you still have one baby in there!”

The truth is, no matter how thankful we were that the Lord allowed us to carry and deliver our precious son, Ezra, we still grieved over the loss of our other child. I still dream of what it would have been like to have twins. I still wonder how life would have been as “Huggins party of five.” We have never forgotten.

Because we had picked out both a boy name and a girl name for this pregnancy, and because we were able to deliver our boy, we gave our lost baby the remaining name, Abigail. And we have never forgotten her.

For our family, a life is a life no matter how small. Every year as Mother’s Day approaches I can’t help but be so very thankful for the family God has given me. Every day, and especially on Mother’s Day, I also can’t help but remember all of my babies, both here on earth and in heaven.

Going through the experience of having a miscarriage has given me a new perspective and a depth of understanding that I believe some people just do not possess. So, as Mother’s Day approaches, here are just a few things I hope you will keep in mind:

We Never Forget Our Babies:

I can remember the shirt I was wearing, the sterile smell of the doctor’s office, and the nauseating pit in my stomach. I vividly remember the long trip from the doctor’s office to the hospital as my husband and I were clutched hand in hand. I remember my mom driving eight hours to be by my side as I laid crying on my living room couch. I remember the feeling of loss.

It’s not every day that I think about Abigail, but it’s often. Probably more often than you might think. And I would venture to guess that if you know someone who has had a miscarriage, whether early on in pregnancy or further along, they never forget. Our children are a part of us forever, even if they were with us for only a short while.

This Kind of Loss Can Be Lonely:

It was my experience that people did not know exactly what to say, so for the most part, they said nothing at all. Because I was only a few weeks into my pregnancy, I remember feeling as though others might believe I was making too big of a deal about our loss. As if somehow I did not have valid reason to fall apart for a while after this loss of life, especially because I still was carrying the surviving twin.

I will tell you, this kind of loss can be lonely. So, I implore you friends, if you know of someone who has experienced a miscarriage, be there for them. If you worry about what to say, say that you love them through your actions. Sit with them, cook for them, and acknowledge the life that you know they have lost because it is very real to them. It is a different kind of lonely to go through a miscarriage alone.

Our God is a God Who Sees:

To the mother who has lost a child, God sees you. We may never know this side of heaven why the Lord gives and takes away, but I am thankful that He sees us through our pain and grief. I am thankful that He acknowledges the life of our little ones, because He is the giver of life and is infinitely aware of our loss. God sees our sorrow. He sees our broken hearts and is able to mend them. We are never alone. The Lord is good to carry us through those times when we feel others just cannot see or possibly understand. He sees you.

As this Mother’s Day approaches, I hope you will remember those who have babies both here on earth and also in heaven. I promise you, they are remembering all of their babies on this special day. Because a life is a life no matter how small and each child reserves a special place in its mother’s heart, forever.

“Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.” 

 2 Corinthians 1:3-4

To the Teacher's Aide in My Son's Special Education Classroom: I See What You Are Doing

As the parent of a child with special needs, I cannot help but be an overemotional ball of overprotectiveness most of the time. I have decided that this is not a downfall, it’s my job. I must be my child’s voice, until he finds his own. I must be my child’s eyes, until he can tell me what goes on around him each day. I must be wise and very discerning of the people I allow to surround my child, because he cannot tell me for himself how they treat him. I must be my child’s advocate on every front, because that is the sacred calling that the Lord has hand-picked for me.

It is because of this sacred calling, that I watch and I protect. And I want to send this message to the teacher’s aide in my son’s Special Education Classroom: I See What You Are Doing.

I see you early in the morning as you greet my little boy in the drop off lane at school. I see how you smile with excitement about another day as he wraps his little arms and legs around you when you lift him out of our car. I see you in class pictures sitting with my child in your lap. I see how he loves to give you hugs and kisses your cheek. I see the gentle hand you use to help guide him into the classroom and how you keep a watchful eye on him to make sure he is always safe. I see the pre-cut triangles and squares that you helped to prepare for my little one to learn with.

I know that you have been there for my child as he struggles to the ground in an Autistic meltdown. I heard how you placed your hands under his head to help protect it from the hard ground. I know that you have walked the empty halls a million times with my little one to help calm his overwhelmed mind. I know that you help my child with the smallest of tasks such as cutting up his food, drinking from a cup, eating his food, going to the bathroom, and washing his clothes after a sensory activity that he had a little too much fun with.  You have learned his personality, his quirks, his strengths and his weaknesses.  Yes, I can see what you are doing.

You are building a relationship with a precious child that longs for connection. You are growing trust in a little boy who feels as though the world is coming at him every second of the day. You are pouring yourself into a child that can rarely offer up a “thank you.”

Let me remind you of something that you already know: my child is brilliant. He can sense love and compassion a mile away. On the other hand, he also knows immediately if someone feels uncomfortable around him or if they are working with him because they have to verses if they want to. Ezra does not learn well in a hostile or begrudging situation. He has to feel comfortable with the people that surround him. You are partially responsible for creating an atmosphere that is conducive to my child’s ability to learn. Thank you for loving him so well. Yes, I can see what you are doing.

I know you have days that are rewarding. I can see the love and trust my child has for you and I hope you can see that too. I also know you have days that are exhausting and so very discouraging. Thank you for not giving up. Because of your unconditional love for children like mine, my little boy knows that each day is a new day and that he is worth showing up for.

Yes, I see what you are doing. Your hard work does not go unnoticed. My child notices you. I notice you. Because God has given me this incredible gift of being the protector of my special boy, I watch so very carefully. Because my precious child cannot verbally tell me about his experience at school, I cannot help but take in every little detail about what I see. And I see what you are doing.

I am not sure what the world’s perception is about a Special Education or Life Skills Teacher’s Aide. I’m not sure if people realize all that you do. I believe that one of the most overlooked and underpaid positions is that of a Special Education Paraprofessional. If I could, I would give each one of you a big raise and a superhero cape. But because I cannot, all I can offer is my heartfelt gratitude. I want you to know that I see what you are doing, and I am so thankful for you.

As I write this, I count myself so very blessed that it brings tears to my eyes. Ezra has such an amazing PPCD teacher who works tirelessly with Ezra and with our family to make sure that he succeeds (more about that in another upcoming blog). But, over the years Ezra has also had multiple teacher’s aides in each of his classrooms who have had a tremendous impact on him and his success in the classroom. Each of them have thrown themselves in 100% to loving and caring for children like mine. They could have not cared so much, but they did. It is because of these amazing professionals (and his awesome teachers) that my son has had an environment of support and love. I have no doubt that Ezra would not have overcome and learned as much as he already has without these incredible educators. If you work in a special education classroom, PRESS ON! Your work does not go unnoticed. I see what you are doing!

Ezra at school. As I understand it, it was the normally scheduled time for Ezra's class to go outside. Ezra lined up, on his shape, all on his own because he is super smart like that. I can just imagine him thinking "Don't they realize what time it is!? They are going to make me late!"

When it Rains, it Pours

In the last two weeks, I have sat in more doctor’s office waiting rooms than I have in the last two years combined. Some of this was for “well checks”, some for my daughter, some for my son, and some for me, but it all just seemed to hit at the same time. Just the other day, I found myself in waiting room number six, sitting beside a sweet elderly woman. We struck up a conversation and it seemed as though she and her family were having a rough month of health as well. At one point in our conversation I found myself saying “when it rains, it pours!”

Super. Glad I could be such an encouragement.

The truth is, I had allowed myself to let the “Why Me’s”, “What If’s”, and “Could Be’s” overwhelm me by waiting room number six. I would love to tell you that I offered my new friend some super “Christianese” lingo, but I didn't. Don’t worry, I wasn't all “gloom and doom” either, but I mostly just sat and listened to her, smiled and nodded, and offered my profound “when it rains, it pours” two cents in. The conversation could have led to so much more. It could have been deeper. It could have offered hope. But I was tired, self-focused, and just really wanted to sulk in waiting room number six. (Totally embarrassing)

Anybody else ever been there? The overwhelming weight of the “Why Me’s”, “What If’s”, and “Could Be’s” can take such control over our hearts and minds if we are not careful. My words to this sweet lady have rung in my head since I spoke them- When it rains, it pours. Was my heart really so heavy that I could not see beyond that present moment? Had I really allowed the “things” of life to overshadow all the many blessings the Lord has so graciously given me?

I needed a shift in perspective. I needed to allow the Lord to “refresh the weary and satisfy the faint” (Jeremiah 31:25) that I carried in my heart. I needed to remind myself that God is much bigger than waiting room number six or any other circumstance I am facing.

Can I tell you this, friends? “Because of the Lord’s great love, we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning.” (Lamentations 3:22-23)

Easier said: “When it rains, it pours”….that’s right, the Lord doesn't just sprinkle His blessings and mercies on us each day. No, He pours them out! It is so very easy in our human flesh to overlook all of the beauty and blessings the Lord has poured over our lives, and to feel consumed by the many circumstances of life.

I will choose to count my blessings. Let me tell you how I was about to leave for work Wednesday morning, knowing I had a doctor’s appointment later that afternoon for which I was not sure how I was going to be able to pay, and in our mailbox sat a one hundred dollar bill for “The Jake Huggins Family”. (The Lord provides!) Let me tell you how after a week and a half of my Autistic child struggling terribly with aggression, he let me hold him last night at bedtime and gently touched my face with his little fingers. (The Lord is merciful!) Let me tell you how the Lord has open up opportunities for meaningful, adult conversation this week with dear family and friends- something that we are not always able to do. (The Lord is right on time!) …I could go on with a multitude of blessings that the Lord has poured over us in the midst of the trials of life.

 It’s true, “When it rains, it pours”.  The Lord pours out His love, grace, and mercy on us each day. He offers us promises and hope that far outweigh the “Why Me’s”, “What If’s”, and “Could Be’s” of this life. There is nothing that better cultivates a heart of thanksgiving than remembering the sovereignty of God. He is so much bigger than any surgery, bigger than any test result, bigger than Autism, or any other trial that may come our way.  Thank you Jesus!

I needed this reminder. Maybe you did too?

…and if you see a sweet little old lady in a doctor’s office waiting room, please give her a hug for me and tell her “God’s got this!”  

Ezra had an EEG a few weeks ago. We have more testing coming up.  Prayers for our little guy are appreciated!

“Cast your cares on the Lord and he will sustain you; he will never let the righteous be shaken.” Psalm 55:22 

Is There Room At Your Table For Me?

I watch my son’s eyes constantly. He may be mostly nonverbal, but his eyes speak loudly. Even when he cannot bring himself to look at me, I watch his eyes and often times, they tell me what I need to know.

I watch them dart from one thing to the next in rapid motion: this usually tells me that he is overstimulated. I watch his eyes cut mischievously at me to sneak a quick glance before he does something he knows he is not supposed to do: this reminds me that despite Autism, he is “all boy” and is testing his boundaries. I am crushed as I see the frustration in his eyes: he wants to be understood. I watch his eyes light up in wonder or excitement when he sees something he desires: he notices his environment. I see the sparkle in his eyes when he is able to stare back into mine: I can see his love for me and my heart melts.

Certainly there is impulsivity and many unknown factors on this Autism journey. There are days when I stare into my son’s eyes and all I can find is a lost little boy, trapped in his own reality. But more often than not, I can find him. So I watch. I watch ever so closely. I anticipate. I wonder. I take him in.

Because I naturally watch my son’s eyes, it’s no wonder that I was watching them closely as we entered my parent's house for Thanksgiving dinner. I often take for granted the fact that not everyone understands what all the holiday season entails for a family with a child who has special needs, so let me give you a quick rundown of all the thoughts that were going through our heads as we joined our family for a Thanksgiving feast.

How long do you think we will be able to stay? He is already a little overstimulated today. Oh goodness, there are pretty decorations everywhere. We are going to break something. Or even more, we are going to throw something and then break it! I hope they don’t mind him singing at the top of his lungs- he loves “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” right now. This may be too many people. We may have a meltdown. Will the other kids or adults acknowledge him? Hopefully he will keep his shirt on the whole time. Do you think everyone will mind if we watch “Signing Time” or “The Little Engine that Could” for about fifty times in a row? Maybe this was a bad idea. Stop thinking negatively…Maybe this will be a great Thanksgiving experience! Oh gosh, he just threw his cup into the already decorated Christmas tree…awesome.

It’s true. No matter how cool, calm, and collected I try to act, there are a flood of thoughts filling my mind during large family get- togethers. Thanksgiving was no exception.

So, as my anxious thoughts rose and we walked in the door to this Thanksgiving feast, I watched my little boy’s eyes for a cue.

I watched him as he did his little step, hop around the large living room and on into the dining area. We have a very large family so there were three beautiful tables set to welcome their guests. Ezra noticed these tables and stared. I watched as his eyes inspected every inch of these tables with their beautiful plates and crystal glasses. He nodded his head at each place setting as though he was mentally counting the places in anticipation for all the guests to arrive and be seated. I took him in as he took in the unfamiliar tables.

Ezra finally moved on from inspecting these tables and began playing with his toys on the floor nearby as we waited for other family members to arrive. I noticed that periodically, he would glance up from his toys to see if the tables were still there.

As each family arrived bearing trays of food and hugs for all, my boy was not left out. Our family has embraced Ezra in such a loving way. My momma’s heart swelled as each niece and nephew greeted Ezra with a “Hey Ezra!” or a sweet pat on the back. Although my son hardly glanced up from his busyness with his toy trains, he knew his cousins were there and he knew that they had included him in their greetings.

As our families sat down to eat, I asked where Ezra should sit. Without hesitation the answer was “Right here!” as I looked at a place setting with a glass plate and crystal cup; just like everyone else’s.

It was as if Ezra knew exactly where to go. He walked to the table and once again nodded his head as though he was mentally counting each place setting. When his nodding made its way around the table, he stopped at his own chair and a smile spread across his face. He knew. There was a place at the table for him.

He was not asked to sit at a table off to the side. He was not left to roam around the room and graze from a plate. He was not given a “special” plate in the event that he might break one of the nice ones. There was a place at the table for him, and he knew it.

Was I nervous about the beautifully decorated table? You betcha. Did I have visions of him possibly pulling the table cloth with all of its adornments into a messy heap on the floor? Yep. Was it a possibility that he might break something? Yes. But my parents knew this. It was more important to them that Ezra have a place at their table than for him to be excluded or pushed to the side.

And Ezra knew it. I could see it in his eyes.

We didn’t have some magic dining experience. We still had to help Ezra feed himself. We still had to remind him to “Sit down, Ezra.” We still had to use his i-pad to help calm him while he was in an unusual setting. But our Thanksgiving meal was complete because there was a place at the table for Ezra.

I keep thinking about my little boy as he nodded his head at each place setting when we had first arrived that Thanksgiving day. I just can’t help but imagine that he was mentally counting the chairs and wondering Is there a place for me at the table?

I have heard too many stories of children with special needs being unwelcomed by friends and even family members. I know that many times precious souls just like my Ezra are brushed to the side. They are excluded. 

You know, it was a possibility that Ezra may not have even been able to sit with our family at the table this Thanksgiving. Some days are just not good days. Some days leave him sprawled out on the floor in a sad or even aggressive mess. But even if he had been too overwhelmed to join us at the table, he would have had a place there, saved for him, just in case.  He would have known that there was a place for him at the table.

Could it be that a true reflection of your heart might be revealed by whom you would welcome to your table?

As the Christmas season approaches, I encourage you to make room at your table for everyone. Just because a person can’t speak doesn’t mean that they desire no communication. Just because a person cannot make eye contact doesn’t mean that they wish to not be acknowledged. Just because a person seems to be in a world of their own doesn’t mean that they are unaware of their surroundings and the things being said and done around them.  Just because a person may not comment on your beautifully decorated dinner table does not mean that they do not greatly value being welcomed at it.

As the Christmas season approaches, I encourage you to create an atmosphere of hospitality for everyone. This sounds easy until you take into account that “everyone” may mean that you need to be ok with singing at the table, the possibility of a broken plate, a wheelchair in the place of one of your wooden ones, a feeding tube, an oxygen tank,  or an i-pad on the table. We should search the crevasses of our hearts to see who truly has a place at our table.

It seems to me that the people you welcome to your table are also the people you welcome into your heart.

Won’t you welcome sweet children like mine to your table? Won’t you welcome those who are often cast aside? Won’t you welcome those who are least likely to be welcome at someone else’s table?

They are waiting. They are waiting for you to welcome them. I know. I can see it in Ezra’s eyes.

"Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angles without knowing it." Hebrews 13:2

I Ask God to Come Sit With Him A While

When I lay him down to sleep, I pray to the Lord his soul to keep…then I kiss my little boy, say “goodnight”, shut the bedroom door, and wait for what is usually a very long night.

I almost forget that our nights do not look (or sound) anything like most other people’s nights. The double-diapers, zip-up pajamas on backwards, hospital bed with netting kind of nights. The singing-at the-top-of-his-lungs-for-hours, screaming, kicking the walls, laughing hysterically, or “scripting” kind of nights. Yep, I almost forget these things are not “normal” because this is our normal; it’s just part of the way we do life.

We never know what the night will bring. Sometimes, there are nights of quiet rest. Other times we get very little sleep as we listen to our son wrestle through the night.

But every night begins in the same way. I lay down beside my precious son, and pray. I have prayed for him while his tiny hands push against mine. I have prayed for him as he tries to hit me. I have prayed for him as he snuggles up close. I have prayed for him through his tears and tears of my own. I have prayed for him through happy chattering and smiles. Regardless of the behavior or the evening, I pray. I pray for Ezra’s future, that he will have a restful sleep, for his safety, for him to know how much his mommy and daddy love him, and most importantly that he would know how much Jesus loves him.

One particularly hard night, my prayer shifted. Ezra was wound up. He could not focus on anything. He was everywhere and nowhere all at the same time. I continued to whisper softly to him “I love you, Ezra. I love you.” My whispers were met with even wilder thrashing in his bed. My momma’s heart was breaking for my son. What was this thing that seemed to be so much greater a force than he or I were able to control? I sobbed through my usual prayer over my son as I dodged an arm, a leg, and another arm. And just before I could no longer utter a prayer between heartbroken tears, I asked God for something I had never asked for before.

Please Lord, come sit with him a while. Come and sit with him. Fill his room with your presence. Reveal Yourself to Him.

There is such a feeling of helplessness when you are the parent of a child with special needs. My son is often times a prisoner in his own brilliant mind. At night especially, his body seems to betray him and I find myself at a loss for how to help. There are just some things that I cannot do. This thing, this Autism, seems far bigger than me some days. But I know who is even greater.

So, in this small bedroom with its hospital bed and toy covered floor, I asked God to come sit. I placed my trust in the reality of God’s presence and power.

In Exodus 33:14, God reminds Moses of the power of His presence as He declares “My Presence will go with you, and I will give you rest.”

Rest. That is what I want for my precious son. Not just sleep. Rest. I want him to rest in the comfort of security. I want him to rest in the knowledge that God does not ever leave or forsake us (Deuteronomy 31:6). I want him to rest with a peace that surpasses all understanding (Philippians 4:7). I want him to rest in the presence of the Lord.

Now, each night as I lay Ezra down to sleep, I still pray over him, but I always ask the Lord to come and sit with him a while. I have a very beautiful picture in my mind of Jesus coming and sitting at the foot of his bed. I ask God to reveal Himself to Ezra in ways that only He can. And I trust. I trust in the reality of God’s presence.

Do we still have some hard nights? Yes we do. This isn’t some halfhearted trial to see if my child will sleep better if I say “the magic words”.  Definitely not. This is faith. This is faith lived out by acknowledging what I already know to be true about God and His promises. This is me declaring that I have very little control when it comes to this thing called Autism. This is me remembering that God loves my child with an unconditional, sacrificial love. This is me offering up all of my best efforts and asking God to work in ways that I cannot and that He is completely able. This is me reminding my son each night that he is never alone.

This is me declaring the reality of God’s presence and power as I ask Him to come sit with Ezra a while. Thank you Lord, for using my little boy to remind me of your faithfulness and the power of Your presence.

“The Lord is near to all who call on Him, to all who call on Him in truth.” Psalm 145:18

Why You Should NOT Welcome My Special Needs Child to Your Church

I realize this may be one of the most controversial posts I have ever written. It has taken me months of writing, stopping, coming back, re-writing and I’m still not positive it’s perfect. But it is my heart. Every fiber of my being burns with passion over this topic. I want to share with you why you should NOT welcome my special needs child to your church.

I write this from what I believe is a unique perspective.  You see, I have worked in ministry for over ten years now. I have been on staff as a youth minister and a children’s minister. I have helped to develop a special needs program within a church setting. I have also been a teacher for six years collectively. I have taught classrooms full of children from all kinds of backgrounds, strengths, and weaknesses. Most importantly, I am a mother to two beautiful children, one of whom has Autism. That’s right, I am the parent of a special needs child.  So why on earth would someone with my background write a blog like this? Allow me to share my heart with you.  These are the reasons I believe you should NOT welcome my special needs child to your church.

-YOU SHOULD NOT WELCOME MY SPECIAL NEEDS CHILD IF YOU BELIEVE THE HOLY SPIRIT IS ONLY ABLE TO WORK IN THE HEARTS OF SOME PEOPLE, BUT NOT OTHERS.      Any good church goer would most likely read this and immediately say “Oh no! Not me! I believe the Holy Spirit can work in the hearts of all people! I would never limit what God could do!”  And I would challenge back with this: Many times we (the Church) say such things with our words, but our actions do not hold up.  Does your church offer anything for special needs children? Do you know? Instead of preparing a Bible story for special needs children, does your church place them in a nursery setting and give them a toy and some movies? As the parent of a special needs child, I beg you, please do not pre-determine who is able to be reached by the Holy Spirit.  Church leaders, I want to encourage you that your job as an ambassador for Christ is to prepare to the best of your ability, to teach God’s word, trusting that the Holy Spirit will do exactly what He has promised to do: “But the Counselor, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you all things and will remind you of everything I have said to you.” – John 14:26    You do not have to be a special education teacher to share about Jesus’ love with these children. You do not have to have sensory activity based learning, Bible centers, or offer ABA therapy. Your job is to present a sacrifice of your time and preparation, your love for others, and your love for Jesus…and share it.  Share it with children as best as you can. Tell them a Bible story, tell them about Jesus’ love and sacrifice for them, tell them how God created them with a plan and perfect purpose for their lives! And then trust that the Holy Spirit is going to do what He says He will do.  Yes, some parents of special needs children are just thankful for the respite of having a safe place for their child to stay while the rest of the family goes to worship. But why would the church want to miss out on the great opportunity of sharing Jesus with these special children? These are children who are often times excluded, laughed at, looked at, and pushed aside. For those of you who DO prepare a lesson for these precious children, thank you.  I want to tell you something very important: they are listening. They may not be making eye contact with you, they may be singing, spitting, or spinning, but they are listening. I firmly believe that God’s Word does not return void (Isaiah 55:11). It is not man’s job to determine who is able to be reached by God’s Holy Word. His Word is for everyone and His love is all encompassing.

-YOU SHOULD NOT WELCOME MY SPECIAL NEEDS CHILD TO YOUR CHURCH IF YOU BELIEVE THAT CHURCH IS NOT A PLACE FOR THE “MESSY”. It should always be for the great love of our Lord that we would want to present the Bride of Christ, the church, in the best way we can by taking care of church facilities. I understand this completely. But my heart breaks for the church that has lost sight of the God given mission of the Church. The Church was never meant to be a pristine, social gathering of perfect people sitting in Church bookstores or coffee shops. These outreach tools in and of themselves are fine, but let us never replace the gift of human compassion, connection, and our mission to serve with only tools. This I know: Jesus knew how to get messy. Jesus placed His hands into the wounds of the hurt, He surrounded Himself with the “unclean”, He loved the “least of these”, He cared for the broken, and He washed the dirty feet of the disciples. Jesus knew that ministry is messy. I can promise you this, special needs ministry is messy too. There is nothing very cute about changing a five year old’s poopy diaper. It is not very glamorous to wipe drool or to help change soiled clothes. My special needs son is not going to sit quietly during your Christmas Cantata and he very likely will hurl his sippie cup up on the stage in the middle of your sermon (it’s true, it happened). Welcoming those with special needs into your church will cause you to have to think about wheelchair ramps and points of accessibility.  Welcoming those with special needs into your church might be a little more noisy, might require more volunteers, might cost your church money, and it WILL be messy.  But Oh, dear Church, do not forget that Jesus loves and came to serve the messy. What if the Church began to serve “the least of these”? What if Church was a place where those who cannot care for themselves would be cared for? What if Church was a place where dirty diapers where changed, drool was wiped, and the outcasts were accepted? If Jesus, the Messiah, Lord of all Creation, came to serve the “least of these”, shouldn’t we? What if we have it all wrong? What if Church could be a haven for the “messy”?

-YOU SHOULD NOT WELCOME MY SPECIAL NEEDS CHILD TO YOUR CHURCH IF YOU DO NOT RECOGNIZE THAT “SPECIAL NEEDS” IS A MISSION FIELD. In the book of Matthew, Jesus gives his disciples the “Great Commission” telling them to “Go and make disciples of all nations…” (Matt 28:19). As the church, as Christians, it is our mission to share with others the unconditional love and grace of Jesus Christ.  We send out missionaries all over the world to share the good news of salvation. Praise the Lord! But did you know that there is a mission field, right here in America, that is not being reached? Did you realize it is estimated that nearly 90% of special needs families do not attend church? I can give you a pretty good reason why this statistic is what it is just based on personal experience. It’s so hard.  Did you know that most parents of special needs children who actually make it to church on any given Sunday have probably had much less sleep than you, many have faced several huge obstacles, and are literally hanging on a prayer that “this whole church thing works today”.  It’s hard to take your special needs child into a huge crowd because (usually) it overwhelms them. It’s the look of panic or sheer terror on the church worker’s face when they see your child bounding through the door. It’s worrying if the ministry workers will truly care for your child while you are at worship. It’s wondering if I can truly say “let’s go to church and learn about Jesus!” or if my child will actually just be sitting in a room while the volunteer nervously watches the clock. It’s wondering if anyone would actually be able to relate to you and your family. It’s worrying about the safety of my non-verbal child who cannot tell me how he was treated by those who care for him.  It’s wondering if you’re truly going to be accepted or just tolerated. My husband and I both grew up in church and are quite determined to have our family there each Sunday, but even for us, it can be discouraging at times. Dear Church, there is a mission field of tired, overwhelmed, and often times questioning people who are just waiting to be loved, included, noticed, and accepted. But let me warn you, this is not a mission trip that you can just donate to or visit for one week and walk away. If your church should accept the mission to minister to special needs families like mine, it will be a continuous labor of love. I beg you, Church, to not claim to have a “special needs ministry” unless it is truly the heartbeat and conviction of your church. I have seen what it is to have a church with a “special needs ministry” but it is not the passion of the congregation or the passion of the pastor. I have been the guest of churches who have a “special needs ministry” where there is no heart behind the ministry. Parents of special needs children pick up on this very quickly and for many, it is their first and very last time to “try church”.  I have visited churches that have an undeniable passion for special needs families. I have seen what can be when a congregation embraces this mission as their own. It can be a very beautiful thing! Special needs families just like mine are not welcome very many places. As a whole, public places are not our friend. Special needs families long for community and connection because it is rarely offered to us anywhere else. Would your church please pray about this widely un-reached mission field? If your church will not reach out to a family like mine, who will? We are falling into the cracks, unnoticed.

- YOU SHOULD NOT WELCOME MY SPECIAL NEEDS CHILD TO YOUR CHURCH IF YOU BELIEVE THAT GOD DOES NOT SPECIALLY CALL EVERY MEMBER OF THE BODY OF CHRIST TO SERVE. 1 Corinthians 12:27 says “Now you are the body of Christ and each one of you is a part of it.” If you are a Christian, then you are a part of the Body of Christ. If you are a part of the Body of Christ, then according to 1 Corinthians 12, you have a “part” or a job to do. You see, God has given all of us gifts and talents to be used for His glory. The Church is supposed to function as one body of believers with all of its different members serving through their gifts and talents for the sole purpose of glorifying God and furthering His kingdom. I am not a super gifted person, but even I have been given “strengths” in some areas.  These strengths or “gifts” as the Bible calls them, were not suddenly zapped out of my system when I birthed a special needs child. On the contrary, I, like many other parents of special needs children, have gifts that God says are important to the Church. What’s more is that I still greatly want to serve. I believe there is a supernatural, wonderful thing that happens when a believer is serving in the very way that God created and called them to serve. It fuels my heart and uplifts my spirit. It’s true, many special needs parents want to serve.  What is also true is that many times we are not able. We are desperately searching for a church that will allow us the opportunity to serve, a church that values us, a church that believes we have something special to offer. We are also desperately searching for a church that will look upon our special needs child as part of the Body of Christ…which means that he too has something very special to bring to the body. In many ways, special needs families are being “cut off” from the Body of Christ. Oh Church, please do not let this be! If the Church does not find a way to include special needs families, it will hinder any possibility of these parents or children being able to contribute to the Body of Christ within the Church. It will make it very hard for these parents and children to do the very thing that God has charged us to do.

The truth is, I wish you would welcome my special needs child to your church, but for many, there is a work to be done first. Please check your heart and the heart of your church. There are families slipping through the cracks…90% of special needs families to be exact. The Church has a great opportunity to be the hands and feet of Jesus. Who will take up this cause?  It will take work and preparation, it will be hard, it will be messy, and it is not glamorous. But, dear friends, it will be so worth it.

“The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’” –Matthew 25:40

Please Overwhelm Me!

With black streaks of mascara running down my face, I sobbed into my husband’s arms, “I’m just so overwhelmed,” I finally admitted.  Can I tell you what gut-wrenching pain it took for me to admit this? As if it is against the “Christian-code” to be overwhelmed by life? Well, forget the “code.” Forget the social stigma of having to have it “all together.”

Instead of buying into the idea that it is just not ok to fall apart from time to time or to be overwhelmed by life, I decided to turn to truth. I turned to the scriptures and found that I am not alone in my feeling overwhelmed. I have come to the conclusion that it is perfectly human to become overwhelmed by life at times…and it is perfectly God to love us in spite of our overwhelmed hearts and to love us enough to see us through until the other side of our grief, hurt, busyness, or whatever your “overwhelmed-ness” may be.

The last several months have been extraordinarily hard for us. We have moved, bought a house, started new schools, and began new jobs. It was a good move, and we love our new home, but uprooting your family and starting over is anything but easy. And it was all a little overwhelming.

We hunted for a new church in our new community (no small task for the family of a special needs child). We were met with ugly stares and even uglier comments. We left several church services with tears in our eyes and heavy hearts…but we will save all this for another blog. We have finally found a church that will love and except all of our family, including our son who has Autism.  And it was all a little overwhelming.

We fell absolutely in love with a precious young man from Ukraine. We had made plans. Big plans. Life changing, family altering plans. We were so excited. In one year, this boy changed our hearts and our family in a wonderful, crazy-love kind of way. How one teenage boy from Ukraine could so captivate our hearts in such a big way could only be a God thing. Even our son (who has Autism), who scarcely acknowledges others or makes eye contact, would hurry over to Pasha and snuggle up to him as soon as he entered the room.  His presence made life just a little bit brighter.  Then, in one night, with one wreck, he was gone, taking a little piece of our hearts with him.  I have found it so hard to bear that the world somehow has the audacity to just keep right on spinning in the midst of tragedy or turmoil. Each day we find the strength to keep going but it is not without pain.  And it is all a little overwhelming.

In the last few weeks, our son’s aggression has intensified. I cannot even begin to describe the pain this momma’s heart feels to have my precious little boy struggle in this way. The hurt in our hearts far outweigh the physical hurt of being pushed away, bitten, scratched, or hit. We work through, we press on, and we overcome. There are moments that are so precious; when he kisses our cheeks or snuggles up in our arms. We cherish these moments and truly just soak them up because we don’t know how long they will last or if he will offer this kind of affection again for days or even weeks. And it’s all been a little overwhelming.

Add these things to the every-day pile of bills, therapy sessions for our son, homework, dirty dishes, lesson plans, end-of-the-school-year madness, parent-teacher meetings, ARD meetings, and award ceremonies, and my “keep-it-together-ness” has flown right out the window. And it’s all been a little overwhelming.

I do not share all this to give you my list of woe’s or to write a sympathy seeking blog. I share all this because I just wonder if maybe there is someone else out there who feels overwhelmed by life as well?  And I just wonder if maybe you also have been trying to act as though you “have it all together” even though you don’t? 

Might I just encourage you with this…If we had it all together, we would not need a Savior. If we were strong enough to withstand the heartbreak that life sometimes throws our way, we would not need to depend on Jesus. If we were resistant to trials, there would be no need to depend on the Lord for our strength, to call on His name, or to fall down at the foot of the cross.

I’m willing to tell you that I have been hanging on by a tiny emotional thread these days. You could probably tell me a story about a hot dog and I would cry. I’m ok with that for now. I don’t plan to stay in this spot forever, but for now, I am allowing myself the admitted humanity of being a little overwhelmed by life.

Just the other day I was reading in Psalms. I was reminded of the continuous pattern to which David wrote many of the Psalms. David was under persecution, he was running for his life, he had lost everything, and many times, he was a little overwhelmed. Understandably so.  But if you read through the Psalms, you will find a pattern. It is a pattern of being overwhelmed by afflictions, turning to the Lord for help, and turning a psalm of despair into a psalm of praise and thanksgiving. David was human, and he became overwhelmed by life’s circumstances. “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, so far from the words of my groaning?” Psalm 22:1  

However, David had a secret weapon. He knew what power there was in turning from his bleak circumstances to God’s amazing Sovereignty.  Just a few verses later he says, “I will declare your name to my brothers in the congregation I will praise you. You who fear the Lord, praise him! All you descendants of Jacob, honor him! Revere him, all you descendants of Israel! For he has not despised or disdained the suffering of the afflicted one; he has not hidden his face from him but has listened to his cry for help.” Psalm 22:22-24

And so this has become my prayer: Lord, please overwhelm me.  Overwhelm my soul with your goodness, grace, mercy, divine plan, and love. May I be so overwhelmed by You that all earthly circumstances seem to fade in the presence of Your powerful glory.

That’s right. I want to be overwhelmed. I want to trade my overwhelmed heart- overwhelmed by life’s circumstances- for a heart that is completely overwhelmed by God’s goodness.  When was the last time you let Him overwhelm you?

Being overwhelmed by God and who He is, is no easy task. I guess it should be, but it is just so easy to let life sweep us away in its unforgiving messiness. I believe that choosing to be overwhelmed by God is a day by day, moment by moment choice.

God does not ask us to pretend. God does not ask us to just “be ok” with life’s circumstance. God does not say that it’s not ok to be overwhelmed from time to time. You are no less a Christian if you find yourself at a point of sorrow or if your “keep-it-together-ness” is just a little off kilter.  But God does call out to each and every one of us in a plea for communion with Him. I want to make sure I am bringing my broken, overwhelmed, or messy heart to Him each day. After all, He is the only one who can truly heal it.

So yes, I want to be overwhelmed. I want to trade a heart that is overwhelmed by the world for a heart that is overwhelmed by the Lord. That is how I will find the hope and strength to make it through each day!

In a world of “keep-it-together-ness” I just want to say that you are not alone.  Because really, we all have stuff that overwhelms us from time to time. Because really, my “Keep-it-together-ness” is just a “keep- it-together-MESS”.  So, let’s work on this together. Let’s take our vulnerable, life-weary hearts to the Lord and ask Him to overwhelm us in the best of ways!

So, this is real life! Toys on the floor, kids shoes, dog toys, teacher bag with ungraded papers...writing my blog in my grandma sweater...in the middle of my keep-it-together-MESS!

New Life through Death: Beauty Comes Through Times of Brokenness

As a parent, there are just some things that you try to shield your children from. You try your hardest to balance the realities of life with the truths of heaven, covered by a veil of protection from the depths of the pain and suffering that this world has to offer. There are times when God allows that veil of protection to be torn away and the fullness of tragedy and the frailty of this life come billowing in. Throughout these past few weeks, that’s exactly what has happened. There was no escaping what God had planned. There was no protecting ourselves or our children from having a loved one suddenly and tragically taken from earth. With all our inadequacies, we were forced to try to explain the unexplainable.

I am no great theologian, but I do know this truth: God has always been super at being Sovereign. You see, the same God that spoke the world into creation, who said “Let there be light” and there was, who created you and I, who knows how many hairs we have on our heads, who is the same yesterday, today, and forever, who spoke about prophecies that we are watching come to fruition before our very eyes, is the same God who allowed this tragedy in our lives. Do I understand it? Not at all. Am I heartbroken? Completely. Do I doubt God or His goodness? No. Do I believe God has a plan and a purpose for all of this? Absolutely.

And so it was with hurting hearts but unshaken faith that we began to explain to our daughter, Grace, about the terrible wreck that took who she considered her “Uncle Pasha” away. She cried and cried. She asked questions. Then, in an unwavering voice she said, “Well, I know where Pasha is. He is in heaven cause I know he loved Jesus.”

Grace has been asking deep questions about Salvation, our need for grace, God, Jesus, Heaven, and Hell for about the last year. We have spent a great deal of time sharing with her about faith and what it means to “ask Jesus into your heart.” We went slowly. Our greatest fear was that she would make a decision to become a Christian just because she thought we wanted her to. Our greatest desire is for our children’s faith to be their own. So, patiently and ever so carefully we have shared about Jesus with Grace. Grace knew all the “answers” but we have been waiting for the day when Jesus would cause her head and her heart to collide in a way so that she had to, wanted to, couldn’t wait to ask Jesus to be her Savior because she needs Him.

I watched Grace watch others. As much as we tried, there was no way to fully protect her from the sorrow and grief we all were feeling. Grace watched. 

As I was tucking Grace into bed one of these seemingly endless nights, she began to recount all that she had noticed. She had noticed how devastated and hopeless some people were grieving and compared that to others who seemed to be grieving their loss, while clinging to hope.  “I guess that’s cause the ones who have hope know Jesus and they know that Pasha is in heaven and they will get to see him again. Right mom?”   “Yes, baby. That’s exactly right.” I could almost actually see her little brain at work, processing and taking it all in.

We arrived early the morning of the funeral. We were very busy trying to prepare everything and to make sure that the “Celebration of Pasha’s life” would be everything it should be. I was busy just trying to hold it all together.  I watched my little girl stare at the wooden box at the front of the sanctuary. “Momma, don’t these peopleknow that Pasha is not in there? He is in heaven!” “Yes baby, we know.” Then, without hesitation she said, “Momma, I am ready. I need to ask Jesus into my heart.” There was about ten minutes until the service started.

Looking back, I cringe at my response. Ten minutes. That’s all we had. I was an emotional basket case and was trying my hardest to remain composed as I was about to stand in front of a room full of people and address them all. I didn’t want to rush with Grace. I wanted to have time to visit with her and pray together. “I am so excited that you are ready, Grace! Why don’t we visit about it after the service? We will have time then.”

We sat in a room full of people, gathered together in Jesus’ name. Just as the bible promises, God’s presence filled the room as we praised God for who He is, who Pasha was in Him, and for others to experience new life in Christ. God’s word says that He is near to the broken hearted, and that is just what He did- He was near.  In that moment, all the brokenness of our hearts met with all the goodness of God and it was a beautiful service. As the pastor invited people to come forward to pray and to do business with God, I felt a little tap on my arm.  “Momma, I gotta go forward. I gotta ask Jesus into my heart right now!”  It was almost as if Grace was politely saying Hey Mom, Im going forward to ask Jesus into my heart. You can go with me or Im going by myself! There was urgency in her voice and excitement in her eyes. It was time.

There, on the front step of the sanctuary, our sweet Grace prayed the most beautiful prayer we had ever heard. It was a simple prayer, wrapped in the faith of a child and the grace of God.  Our Grace asked Jesus to forgive her of her sins and invited Him into her heart. We cried tears of joy as Grace smiled the biggest smile and she radiated joy.

I’ve not heard of too many people being saved at a funeral, but Grace was. I praise God for the gentle way He has pursued Grace over these few years. I am so thankful for God’s promises and truths that we have been able to share with our daughter. Most of all, I am so thankful that God would use the life and testimony of Pasha as the final catalyst for Grace’s salvation.  I am so thankful for Pasha, this boy that we loved as our own, and for the life he lived. I am thankful for the great love and example that he shared with our little girl.

Grace has a new birthday now. She began her new life in Christ on March 11, 2015. I can’t help but think that as Grace’s name was written in the Lamb’s Book of Life, and as all of heaven rejoiced in her decision, that our sweet Pasha was there celebrating as well. We praise God that He can use tragedy to bring about something triumphant and blessings from brokenness. 

I firmly believe that God is not done using the testimony of Pasha’s life for His glory. I firmly believe that as God continues to write Grace’s life story, He will use her for His glory as well. Our God is not a haphazard or careless God. God is super at being Sovereign. It is in Him that we rejoice. It is in His hands that we place our broken hearts. It is in the hope and grace of the cross that we have the power to press on. It is by the blood of Christ that we are saved…including our sweet Grace. Hallelujah!

Celebrating Grace's spiritual birthday! We had cupcakes and wrote the date in her bible to celebrate her new life in Christ!

Love: It's Not What You Think It Is

Today is Valentine's Day. Today we will see a flood of pictures of oversized teddy bears, boxes of chocolates, kids wired from an overdose of red food dye, and beautifully lit dinner tables to be shared with that special someone. Today is a great day to celebrate love.

As we celebrate love, my heart cannot help but feel just a little heavy. Love. What a word. It's a word that holds so much meaning. It's a word that means so many things. Unfortunately, it is also a word that is becoming more and more overused and abused. The word "love" (in many cases) has become a careless word. This ought not be so.

As I work with this generation of teenagers, my heart breaks as I watch them search for this idea of "love" that the world tells them to embrace. It is a counterfeit kind of love. It is a cheap impersonation. It is a word built on fleeting emotion and not on truth. Little by little, I watch these students give themselves over to this careless version of "love". It is a kind of love that is conditional. It is a kind of love that takes. It is a kind of love that is fleeting. And I am watching this idea of "love" leave these students confused and empty.

But you see, it's not just our teenagers that have been fooled by this diluted version of love. The world as a whole has dressed "love" up in a glamorous suit, and has paraded it around as though it is something that can be put on and taken off, only used for opportune times, can be shared with whomever, and can be thrown away if another more glamorous opportunity comes along. No wonder our students are confused. No wonder more and more marriages are falling apart. No wonder society has become bored with this word called "love."

Friends, true love is not glamorous. It's just not. In fact, I would go so far as to say that true love is the complete opposite of glamorous. Love is hard. True love is sacrificial. True love perseveres. Love says "I see all of your flaws and I still choose to love you." Love is a choice. Love is the commitment to stick it out. Love is forgiving. Love is helping, caring for, and making time for someone else. Love is not cheap. In fact, love can be costly. Love demonstrates patience. Love means more than romance.  Love is not superficial. True love is unconditional.  Unconditional love looks past skin color, sexual orientation, religion, or political beliefs. True love offers peace. True love offers truth covered in love. True love does not turn its head to ignore. True love is messy. True love is complicated. True love is simple.

In my own life, true love has taken on so many different meanings. In my own life, true love means pursing my special needs son with my love even when he fights, hits, or pushes me away. True love is my husband telling me how beautiful I am even though I cannot feel the right side of my face and it now sometimes droops. True love is cleaning, cooking, wiping poop, waking early to lay out clothes, kissing boo boos, and making time.  Love is making sure that my little girl understands her value and worth. Love is building my family up.

Ultimately, love is more. It is so much more than the world portrays it to be. This canned version of "love" that our world promotes is quickly leading our hearts and minds astray.

As I have the wonderful privilege to teach in the classroom, to speak from stages and to share about the love of Jesus with others, I have noticed a dramatic shift in our culture. Many times there is a sense of awe when I share about the unconditional love of Jesus Christ. How amazing that Jesus Christ could love someone like me? A sinner. Broken. In need of saving. And He loves me!  And while most times, this is still a common response, I am noticing another growing response. Oh, Jesus loves me. That's cool, I guess. Though much of this has to do with a greater issue of the condition of someone's heart, I can't help but wonder if our world's watered down version of "love" has helped to create this nonchalant "whatever" attitude towards Christ's unconditional, sacrificial love.

Friends, I beg you to not let "love" become a casual, commonplace, or careless word. Romantic love should never be casual, commonplace, or careless.  True love should never be casual, commonplace, or careless. The love you have for your family or friends should never be casual, commonplace, or careless. Most of all, I hope that you realize that Christ's love for you is never casual, commonplace, or careless.

Christ's love for YOU took blood, torture, tears, and the weight of the world's sin. He saw into the very fabric of our hearts, he saw our imperfections, our darkest secrets, our deepest hurts, and He chose to sacrifice His life for us because He loves us. Christ demonstrated the ultimate example of love, and it was anything but glamorous or flippant.  He pursues us each and every day with His unconditional love.

I hope you have a wonderful Valentine's Day. I pray your heart is full. I hope you have a perfectly tender steak dinner with the one you love or receive one of those little red and pink stuffed animals that you will wonder what in the world do with come tomorrow.  But most of all, I pray that you would understand what love is. Love is not glamorous, but it is beautiful. It is beautiful because true love is deep enough to withstand all of the ugly, wonderful, messy, and complicated things that life throws our way. True Love is a beautiful thing.

"And I Pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord's holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge- that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God."

Ephesians 3:17-19

I Stopped for a While

The last few months have been a whirlwind for our family. Such a whirlwind, in fact, that I was ever so slightly swept away by all that October, November, and December had to offer.  God called, we acted. As the Lord quickly opened one door after the other with an almost audible “go”, we obeyed.  It was not what we had planned, but knowing that His ways are higher than our ways, we trusted and found ourselves in a new town, with new jobs, new schools, a new home, and a new adventure.

You, my blog reading friends, have not heard from me in a while because at first, I was just so busy.  Then, you did not hear from me because I felt it necessary to not be so busy.  Every once in a while we must stop. That is exactly what I did.

Certainly, life continued. There were classes to be taught, bills to be paid, clothes to be washed, homework to be done, and many other daily tasks to be attended to.  But besides the most necessary things, I stopped.

I needed some time to not only pour into others, but to be poured into. I needed some time to make sure I wasn’t just writing about life without living in it. I didn’t want to just capture moments with a camera or with my pen, but I wanted to bask in each second of the day.  I made sure to listen to my daughter’s hour long, amazingly detailed stories with full attentiveness and to watch my son play with even deeper wonder and amazement at the complexity and beauty of his life. I took in the cuteness of little freckles, tiny toes, and silly giggles. I wanted to soak in the gift of the mundane.  I wanted to not miss a moment of the extraordinary.  I needed to be sure that time was taken to incorporate praises of thanksgiving for each and every blessing that the Lord has so graciously bestowed upon my life.

There are times, I believe, that we must stop to shake off the things that might possibly be clouding our view of the “life to the fullest” that God promises us in John 10:10. I have been reminded that a “life to the fullest” may not be full of accolades, great accomplishments, or highly “notable” moments according to the world’s standards. A “life to the fullest” is not one of superficial relationships, haphazard conversations, or rushed routines.  Instead, a “life to the fullest” is lived with intention. God says that He came so that we could “have life and have it to the fullest!” He didn't come for our lives to be full of “good things”, but of “God things”.  I want to shake off the things that keep me from developing a deeper faith. I want to shake off the things that destroy my hope.  Most of all, I want to be so filled by the Holy Spirit that I am a reflection of Christ’s unconditional and unfathomable love.

So, I have been busy shaking things off. I've been busy about making sure that I do not allow life to just happen to me. I have been busy about living in each moment and soaking up the abundance of blessings hidden in the routine, mundane, extraordinary and even the busy moments that are unique to my life. I am thankful for our whirlwind and now, I am thankful to have shaken some things off, and to refocus for the New Year... It's good to see you all again! 

Ezra gave Grace kisses. She was so excited! He has allowed her to kiss him before, but this time he was the one looking for kisses!

Treasuring this beautiful girl and hours spent building her castle.

Ezra has "noticed" our puppy and loves to pet it. This is HUGE because he is learning to be "gentle" and have "soft hands." He does a great job!

Grace and Ezra have begun to play together more. They have little games and jokes between the two of them. It fills this momma's heart with joy!

"The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the fullest." John 10:10

Mommy Mondays

I would lace up the pink satin ribbons on my shoes, stand on the points of my toes, and gliding through the room, I could find happiness to the rhythm of a familiar tune.  In the midst of a chaotic life, I found order and grace. I wasn’t the very best dancer, but from the age of two years old through college, the dancing bar and stage were consistent fixtures in my life. Dancing was part of life, it was an outlet, and I loved it.

So, I bought the cute little ballerina bag with the toe shoes painted on the side of it, the tights, the leotard, and the shoes. I dressed my precious daughter in her dance clothes and fix her hair in a perfect ballerina bun. I couldn’t wait to share dance with her. I just knew she would fall in love. I pictured this being her “thing” with dance recitals and costumes for the next fifteen years at least.

She was good….really good. I was so proud of my precious ballerina. However, I began to notice that she grumbled a little each time we pulled up for practice. Her enthusiasm dwindled quickly. She didn’t like the itchy tights, the tight leotards, and much preferred to make up her own dance moves to her own music.  I recall a conversation where I said “Grace, you cannot quit, you made a commitment and we have to honor our commitments” to which she replied “But Momma, I don’t even know how to say that word!”

We finished out our dance year with a wonderful recital. Despite her excitement for the costumes and show, she sweetly declared “I do not think dancing is for me.” Fair enough. We had tried. We kissed dancing goodbye.

So, what next? We went through the list. Would you like to take piano lessons? Guitar lessons? What about a sport? Soccer? T-ball?

“Momma, if it’s ok, I think I would just like to be an ordinary kid. Can I come home from school and just be me?”

“Umm, yes, yes I think that would be just fine.”    …Ouch!

You see, I was trying to find something that would be just for Grace.  Our home is a revolving door of therapists and help for our son. Much time and attention is devoted to his care.  As the parent of a special needs child, it is a struggle to balance equal time and attention between a child that requires “more” and a “neurotypical” child. I wanted to make sure that Grace had an opportunity to have fun and to have a special time of her own.

I had to check myself. First, I never want to mistake activity for quality time. Second, I never want to allow myself to be pushed into the world’s mold of constant motion.  Although extracurricular activities can present wonderful opportunities for kids, there is no “parent code” that declares you a bad parent if your child does not participate in a bazillion (or even one) extracurricular activities. My sweet daughter had reminded me of the value of slowing down and to “just be.”

I did however, want to make sure that I reserved some time aside just for Grace. My solution: Mommy Mondays!  In place of a “thing”, class, or skill, I have made Grace my “thing” every Monday afternoon. It’s nothing spectacular, but its special time set aside for just the two of us to share some ice cream, talk about the day, or play together uninterrupted. I have tried to be intentional during this time about reaffirming to her who she is in Christ. This time has become so special and I am so thankful Grace chose to “just be” this school year.

I want both of my children to feel celebrated for exactly who God created them to be. Too many times parents place their child’s future within the confines of worldly expectations, based on parental interests (I was a football superstar and you will be too. Or I loved dance and so you should too), and influenced by social advancement.

I have struggled from time to time in “letting go” of my son’s future. Because he has Autism, I have no idea what the future holds for him. I have had to look reality head on with the understanding that he may live with us forever, he may or may not hold a job, he may or may not ever get married or even be able to speak in complete sentences. I pray for a breakthrough. I pray for the bondage of Autism to be broken.  At the same time, I celebrate who he is, just the way he is. I cannot make comparisons but rather embrace his precious personality and rejoice in even the smallest of his accomplishments. Having a special needs child has allowed me to understand the importance of celebrating a child’s individuality.

Who knows what Grace may choose to become, how her interests may change over time, or what she will want to do with her time in years to come. For now, my sweet girl wants to “just be” with her mommy. I am thankful. We will celebrate this season.

Grace may never grace the stage with pink point shoes and a sparkling tutu, and that’s just fine. But we will dance together through this journey called life. We will celebrate every accomplishment, find joy in the good, pray through the tough, and “just be” so as not to get lost in the every-day-hustle of life’s demands.

When Little Things Were Big

There was a time when little things were big. The little moments that captured my heart could be found in a beautifully painted sky, the worn pages of book, or a little head resting on my shoulder. I could render time to stand still so as to capture every last drop of a precious moment.  Sometimes it was the smallest, precious moment that held more value than anything of grand proportions. I looked for these small treasures and gratefully stored them in my heart.

The Lord does not stop pouring out these little moments upon our lives. On the contrary, our days are scattered with little blessings and treasures to be noticed. If we are not careful, however, we will train our eyes and our hearts to only notice the big and to forsake the unmistakable fingerprints of God on the seemingly small blessings in life.

I have danced a dangerous dance. I have found myself pulled in every direction. Unrealistic demands, unhealthy friendships, endless to do lists, and impractical expectations clouded my already-crazy life.  Life’s circumstances seemed enormous.  Life had become a balancing act and I was striving each day just to keep up. My mouth would betray my heart by saying “Yes” to every opportunity to help or do until I had more “to do” than there are hours in a day.

Slowly, over time, I had allowed myself to be swept away by all of the “big things” in life. I allowed myself to pause only briefly to enjoy the small treasures that used to fill my life with warmth and gratefulness.  

Many times, we allow the big things in life to become so big that the little things stay little. My heart has cried “no more!”  Oh, that I might notice the blessings in the smallest of moments. I want to be aware of each second so as to not miss the blessings of the moment, for looking towards the next. I will praise the Lord for the little hand holding mine, the opportunity to kiss a boo boo, the friendly “hello”, the door held, the verse read, the sunset, and the clean smelling sheets. I will notice the burdened friend, the chance to offer encouragement, and the little eyes that watch my every movement.

My prayer is for the little things to become big again. It’s a gift I had not completely forgotten but am so hungry for more of.  Maybe you find yourself lost in the “big” as well? Let’s do this together. Sometimes this requires cutting strings, forming boundaries, or breaking free from the unhealthy. Let’s be brave. I completely believe the Lord delights in sprinkling our lives with tiny glimpses of heaven. We need only be aware.  Let’s allow the little blessings in life to become our banners of praise in the midst of our everyday lives. 

"Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ." Ephesians 1:3

"Is It Ok To Ask God To Heal My Brother?"

Our morning began just like every other morning. There was not enough coffee drank, mismatched socks, lunch kits hurriedly packed, hugs and kisses, and the Frozen soundtrack belted out at the top of our lungs as we drove to school this Wednesday morning.

The pause between two songs brought an opportunity for my six year old daughter, Grace, to speak up. “Hey Momma,” she said almost questioningly (I turned off the music). “I want to ask you something but I don’t know if it’s ok to ask. It’s about Ezra.”  

Ezra is my precious four year old son, who has autism. All at once a rush of thoughts overwhelmed my heart. Grace knows she can always ask anything. I want to make sure she knows that she can especially always ask us about her brother. She needs to ask questions. Questions are good….I wondered what she was going to say.

“Grace, you can always ask us anything, especially about Ezra.” There was a long pause for thought as my daughter collected herself and breathed a heavy sigh.

“Is it ok to ask God to heal my ‘Ezra Brother’?” She continued, “Cause I’m beginning to think that he has a disease. I don’t think he understands us and I don’t always understand him, but I want to and I want him to too.”

Such heavy thoughts for such a little girl. My heart instantly began to ache. She had obviously wrestled with this question for some time. Her words streamed from her lips as though they had been stored up under pressure and now there was no holding back.

“Yes, you can ask God to heal Ezra. You can ask Him because He can do it. He is able to heal Ezra. But Grace, God may choose not to heal him and that’s ok too. We trust God. Grace, I want you to know that God does not ever make mistakes. I believe God knew that you would be the perfect big sister for Ezra. You have such a huge heart, you are so loving, and you help take such good care of ‘Ezra Brother’. You and Ezra are both perfect just the way God made you. We will love Ezra no matter what.”

 “Yes, I will love him no matter what too! But I just had to make sure that it’s ok to ask God for that,” she said very matter-of-factly.

“God wants you to come to Him with your questions, Grace. It’s ok to ask. I do think we should be careful how we talk about it in front of Ezra though. He does understand us sometimes; probably more than we realize. I don’t want Ezra to ever think that he isn't wonderful exactly the way he is.” We were pulling up to the school building.

“Yep! I agree! Dear God, please heal my ‘Ezra Brother’ and make him all better. I want him to understand me and I want to understand him too. I don’t like to see him struggle. I want him to know I love him. Amen.”  She seemed completely satisfied and relieved, like a heavy load had been lifted from her. She gathered up her things, gave me a kiss, and hopped out of the car as though we had been just chatting about ice cream.

I watched my happy-go-lucky girl bounce down the breezeway and into the school building…and then I let it go. I sobbed the deep sobs of a broken momma’s heart.  I sobbed the kind of sobs that leave one feeling depleted of any kind of energy. My heart was heavy for my daughter, for my son, and for this thing called Autism. Did I say everything that should have been said? There is no manual for these types of questions and I am certainly no expert in such matters. Such heavy thoughts for such a little girl.

Friends, let me tell you something. When sadness tries to grip our hearts, we have two choices. We can either allow sorrow to overwhelm our souls, or we can fight for faith from our Heavenly Father.

I knew what I needed. I needed Jesus. I needed Jesus and a Pumpkin Spice Latte (just being honest people).  So, I sat sipping my latte and had a good long visit with my Jesus.

Instant peace. The Lord so graciously brought to my attention all of the beauties from my seemingly overwhelming morning.

Faith. My daughter had demonstrated mature faith this morning. She wasn't asking me if God could heal her “Ezra Brother”, she just wanted to make sure it was ok to ask.  What a great reminder for me as well. I know that God is able, but sometimes I just forget to ask.

Hope. My daughter’s hope was not crushed. Do you know why? Because we serve the God of the universe who truly Is Able to heal. I didn't have to lie or offer up some cliché to cover up hopelessness. I was able to share truth with her. The truth is that God is all powerful, all mighty, healer, and He is in control. The truth is that He wants us to bring our hurts, requests, joys, and sorrows to Him because he loves us. The truth is that God’s plan is perfect. The truth is God does not make mistakes. I can boldly share hope with my daughter about her “Ezra Brother” because my God is good.

Love. The love that my daughter has for her special needs brother runs deep. It runs deeper than words, deeper than actions, and deeper than any diagnosis. She pursues Ezra will her love. She loves him enough to bring his name to the feet of Jesus and to ask for healing. She loves Ezra no matter what.

After finishing every last drop of my latte, removing the black smudges of mascara from my face, and trying to make myself look human again, I went about my day. As I thought more and more about our Wednesday morning conversation I became more and more thankful for it. I pray that seeds of faith were planted deep in Grace’s heart. I praise God for such precious children. I praise God that because of who He is, I can speak truth. I am thankful.

It was "Western Day" at school last week. Ezra was not too sure about his pearl snap shirt, boots, or the camera! Grace tried to cheer him up!

He Makes Me Lie Down

Sometimes life is just hard. Sometimes our hearts cry out with a deep longing for clarity, direction, and peace. There are times when the weight of life’s circumstances cloud our perception of our blessed reality. There are times when the Lord allows a shift, a speed bump, or even a road block to interrupt our everyday lives. What happens when our well formulated plans are completely ruined and our everyday rush comes to an unexpected halt?

 I am so thankful that when, in our most broken moments, the Lord still is near. Many times we miss Him in the midst of trials because we have mentally allowed our circumstances to become larger than God, the Creator of the universe. When we do this, we will find it hard to crawl out of a pit of despair. But you see, we are promised that “He will never leave us nor will He forsake us” (Deuteronomy 31:8).  God is with us even in our greatest struggles. We have a choice to look for Him in the midst of our trials. Do not underestimate the Lord, He loves to reveal Himself to His people when they earnestly seek His face.

This verse was recently spoken over my life by a complete stranger: “The Lord is my Shepherd, I lack nothing. He makes me to lie down in green pastures…” (Psalm 23:1-2 NIV) This verse hit me in a way that it never has before. For the sake of context, please allow me to share these first two verses in their entirety.

“The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing. He makes me lie down in green pastures, He leads me beside still waters, He refreshes my soul.” Psalm 23: 1-2 (NIV)

These verses have always sounded so peaceful to me. How peaceful it would be to lie down in green pastures and to be led beside still waters. I have never really paid much attention to one particular word in this verse…makes.

“He makes me to lie down.” This word “makes” implies an involuntary action. Sometimes the Lord causes us, or makes us to “lie down”. Sometimes He makes us hit our knees. Sometimes He allows trials to make us cry out to Him.  Sometimes He allows our plans, our goals, or our dreams to fail so that we are made to stop, to “lie down”, to slow down, and to seek His face.

You see, before the Lord can “lead me beside still waters”, lead me to the place He has planned for me, or lead me to the mission He has prepared in advance for me, He sometimes chooses to make me “lie down.”

What will you do when the Lord makes you to “lie down”?  Will you wallow in self-pity? Will you ask “why?” without truly seeking His will? I believe many of us “lie down” and we choose to not get back up. When the Lord makes us to “lie down” it is not always comfortable.  We are not accustomed to stopping. We have agendas, we are rushing, we are doing, and we generally do not like it when our plans are messed with.

What if the Lord wants to ruin our plans in the best of ways? When He makes you to “lie down”, will you seek His face? His voice? His will? His “why”? His way?

I believe the Lord sometimes makes us to “lie down” to remind us to depend on Him.  Sometimes He makes us to “lie down” to protect us. Sometimes He makes us to “lie down” so that we can stop and realize how truly blessed we are. Sometimes He makes us to “lie down” because it is the only way He can get our attention.  There are many reasons He may cause us to “lie down”, but when He does, my prayer for you and for myself is that we would be quick to seek His face.

You see, the Lord doesn’t want to leave us “lying down.” He wants to “lead us beside still waters.” God calls His children to be actively led by His spirit.  But before He can lead us any farther, sometimes He may cause us to stop, and “lie down.”

His word says “The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing…”( Psalm 23:1)The Lord will equip you with everything you need for life’s journey and He will “refresh your soul” (Psalm 23:2).

Hang in there dear friend. If you are going through a desperate time, if life’s circumstances seem to be overwhelming, if your plans have been ruined, if your heart is so heavy you can hardly breathe…He is there. He has not left you. He will not leave you. Listen for His voice. He is inviting you on a journey. He will give you everything you need. He wants to lead you and refresh your soul.

There are blessings in the “lying down.”

Speaking of "lying down". guess who got into bed to snuggle with us for THE VERY FIRST TIME EVER!!!!? That's right! Ezra's new "thing" is to snuggle as a family in mom and dad's room! ...I can get used to that!

Thank You Lord For Ice Cream!

Ice cream. It’s the All American Dessert, right? What kid doesn’t learn at an early age about the beauty of a cold, dripping ice cream cone?  …that would be my child.

If you remember correctly, about half a year ago (at the age of four), my sweet, sensory overloaded, autistic son learned that he likes ice cream. Though he was reluctant to eat the cold, creamy substance, its yummy sweetness won and Ezra began to enjoy ice cream. He had been completely terrified to eat anything cold, drippy, or sticky so this was a great achievement. We were so excited! Such a simple task. Something that most kids master at an early age.  Such a huge obstacle for him to overcome!

The beauty of the way Ezra’s mind works is that once he loves something, he is ALL IN. If Ezra is not interested in something, you will have very little chance of getting him to engage.  Because Ezra loves trains, his world very much revolves around trains. He plays with trains, he is motivated by trains, and his vocabulary revolves around trains. He says “Thomas, Percy, James, and Gordon” much more often than I hear him say “Momma.”

Well, guess what? Ezra now loves ice cream. And he is ALL IN.  Therefore we capitalize on this love to help further develop his vocabulary. I just could not wait to share this video with you! My precious boy, not just eating ice cream, but now saying “Ice cream cone! Swwweeet! Mmmmm!”  Music to my ears! Thank you Lord for Ice Cream!

Nothing Wasted

It was his shoes that first caught my eye. They were the light-up-when-you-walk kind of shoes and they looked very similar to a pair of shoes that my own little boy has.  Except, this little boy’s shoes weren’t lighting up. Both of his feet were fixed in a special kind of stroller and I quickly noted the braces coming up from his shoes and wrapping around his little legs. He was sort of laid back in his special chair and his momma was very busy about making sure he was positioned correctly and that he was comfortable.

I noticed how she very rarely looked up to make eye contact with the many people staring at her son. Instead, she just busied herself with him, though he seemed pretty content and comfortable. I felt a tug at my heart. I knew this scenario all too well. I wasn’t sure exactly what their story was, but I know what it is like to have a child with a disability and to have strangers stare and make comments.

The announcement was made for all pre-boarding passengers to begin boarding the plane.  This momma very carefully moved forward with her son in tow, and the rest of us pre-boarding passengers followed behind.  

I had prayed very specific prayers for my trip. If I was going to be traveling and giving up time with my precious family, then I wanted to be sure to make every moment count and for nothing to be wasted.  I had prayed specifically for whoever I might sit beside on the plane…not just because they had to sit beside me, but I prayed that there would be purpose in our meeting. I had prayed that I would sit beside others who I could learn something from or maybe others that I could pour into, encourage, or pray for.  Nothing wasted.

As I boarded the plane, I saw this mom and her son situated in their seats. I knew. I just knew that I was supposed to sit next to them.  I took my seat on the aisle and almost simultaneously, the momma shifted in her seat so as to block me from her son who was propped up next to the window. Protection: I recognized this gesture very well.

I wanted so badly to put her at ease. I wanted so badly to let her know that I was no stranger to this. I was so excited, literally bubbling over because all I could think was “Thank you Lord! Nothing wasted!” At the same time, I knew I couldn’t push. I knew I needed to give it some time. I knew that if I came out with “I am so excited to sit with you! Don’t you worry! I have a special needs child too! Did you know that I asked God for the opportunity to sit with you?! Nothing wasted!” …well, she would just think I was plumb crazy. So I waited.

About ten minutes into the flight the little boy began to whimper ever so slightly. His momma struggled to get his bag from the overhead compartment to get him a snack out. About this time, our stewardess whirled by and fussed at her harshly because passengers were not to be out of their seats. The momma began to explain that her son had just had spinal surgery, they were headed home, and he needed something to eat. The stewardess shrugged and walked off in a huff.  Frazzled. This momma became frazzled and understandably so. She fumbled with the snack trying to calm her son and get him something to eat…but she just didn’t have enough hands to do it all.

“Can I help?” I asked.  The momma politely said “no” but when the snack began falling on the floor and the little boy kept sliding down in his seat, she handed me his cup. Her eyes were misting as she said “some people are not very understanding.”  “No, they’re not. I’m so sorry,” I replied.

Finally, we began to talk. I learned that the little boy’s name was Peter. He was four years old, just like my little boy. Peter has a disease that is quickly causing his body to deteriorate.

I was also able to share with this momma about my two children and about the fact that my son, Ezra, has Autism. I literally watched this women transform from protective to relieved as we shared some common ground with one another.

We talked therapy, disability insurance, schools, and surgeries. (This is what we special needs parents do.) We talked every-day life, what it is like for the siblings of a special needs child, and we even talked about our dream vacation destinations.  My new friend had let down her guard. She was warm and easy to talk to.  She was very real and it was refreshing to visit with someone who understood “life” as we know it.

Then, I asked a question. I knew this question might shake things up a bit to ask, but I was willing to try.  “Does your family go to church anywhere?” I asked. I instantly watched the warmth be sucked right out of this momma and sadness was left in its place. “Our family isn’t welcome at any of the churches we’ve been to,” she said in a quivering voice. She went on to explain that many churches in their small community aren’t even wheelchair accessible, which immediately rules them out as options for her son to be able to attend church with his family. She continued explaining that the other churches their family of four had attempted to visit, met Peter with sharp glances, stressed out nursery workers, and even declarations of “we just can’t help your son here.” As this precious momma shared, I could watch a bitterness rise up in her; understandably so.

I wanted her story to not be true.  But I knew better. As she shared about one bad experience after another of all their family’s attempts to find a church that would accept them and their special needs child, memories of my own family’s experience visiting churches flashed through my mind.

I remember the dirty looks and stares. I remember the inconvenienced attitude of the nursery workers. I remember the panicked look on one of the volunteers face when she saw my child struggling into church one Sunday morning and she worriedly declared “Oh, Ezra’s here.” And I even remember the church-going man who was sure to let my husband know that he believes our son’s Autism is a result of sin in our (Ezra’s parents) life. No, many churches are not kind or welcoming to families like ours. I know this to be a very harsh and true reality.

Peter’s momma went on to explain that, although they very much would like to go to church, when they are having to fight for Peter to get a good education, fight for the doctors to give him the attention he needs, and fight for the insurance companies to cover all of his surgeries, the desire to fight for a church to welcome him had been long since lost.

Fighting is a way of life for special needs parents. How sad that (many times) we must fight for a place for our children in God’s house. The fact of the matter is, not too many parents of special needs children have enough fight left in them to try to find a church that might welcome the needs of their precious family.

Peter’s momma and I visited more. I was able to pray for Peter’s little body to heal and for his family. His momma prayed for me as well. It was a sweet time. I was so thankful to have met Peter and Peter’s momma. I hope that in some way she felt encouraged and not so alone on our big plane. I know I did.  Thank you, Lord. Nothing wasted. When our plane touched down, we went our separate ways. Peter was ready to be home where his daddy and little sister were waiting for him.

As I waited in the airport for my connecting flight, I thought about my visit with Peter’s momma. I thought about the sad fall in her countenance at the mere mention of church. It wasn’t that she had had a look of anger or hate, but rather a look of defeat. This should not be.

Church, we have an opportunity. Not a little opportunity, but a huge opportunity that beats in step with the very heart of God. We have an opportunity to welcome those who are often times cast aside by society. We have an opportunity to love those who are not always shown love by the rest of the world. We have an opportunity to take the fight out of life for just a moment, for those who must fight every single day of their life.

It all boils down to this: What kind of church are you? Are you a church that has fallen into the belief that everything must look pristine, rehearsed, and without flaw? Do you only welcome those who might bring something to the table? Are you more excited about a doctor joining your attendance than a person from the homeless shelter or maybe someone in a wheelchair? May I challenge you that church was never meant to be this way?

God’s love is all encompassing. He loves all of His children regardless of ability, disability, social status, or size of our wallets. He welcomes all of His children with open arms. Oh Church, that we would imitate the heart of Christ! Oh, that we would desire to do real-life with one another. When we do real-life, things get messy.  So, I pray for messy churches. I pray for churches that are willing to get into the trenches of life with the children of God. All of His children.

Our family is so thankful to have found a church that welcomes us and our son with open arms. Such churches do exist. Our church doesn’t have the latest and greatest equipment for special needs; it has a lot of opportunities for growth in this area. What it does have is a heart and developing awareness for special needs children. For a family like mine, this means the world to us.

Somewhere out there is a little boy named Peter.  Peter’s body is frail and his family has a lot on their plates. This family has a need. They have a need to be loved and accepted. They have a need to not be so very alone. There are countless others who may look different, act different, smell different, or even dress different, but they all have one thing in common: Their Creator, God the Father, loves them. He believes they have great value. He created them exactly the way they are for a purpose.

We have an opportunity, Church, to try our hardest to create a place of refuge for ALL to learn about the great love of our Heavenly Father. We have an opportunity, Church, to love deeply and to be the Bride of Christ we are called to be. We have an opportunity, Church, to leave nothing wasted. Nothing Wasted.

“This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you.”        

John 15:12

Perspective from 20,000 feet off the ground. Nothing wasted.

We Sing at the Table

Step inside my home, walk these toy scattered floors with me, pull up one of our old oak chairs and I will pour you a glass of southern sweet tea. In our home you will breathe in the smell of cinnamon and pumpkin spice; my two favorite flavors regardless of the season (I just can’t help myself). Our home is not much different from everyone else’s. In our home there are hugs and kisses, laughter, tears, prayers, struggles, and imperfections which are all covered under a banner of love.

But, in our home we sing at the table. It’s true. In fact, not too many meals go by where we do not sing some sort of ditty. This is just one of the ways that we celebrate life with our children.

You see, the dinner table represents a great many things for our family. The dinner table represents God’s provision, it is a gathering place for loved ones, and some days (let’s just be honest) it represents the fact that we survived another day! However, the dinner table also represents struggle, frustration, and can (at times) represent a battle ground as we work to teach our son (who has Autism) to feed himself …and some days to have him eat at all.

From the very beginning, my precious daughter did not like to see her brother struggle so at the table.  Because her baby brother loves music, Grace began singing to him. His eyes would light up and his body would relax. Grace made it her personal goal to have her brother laughing, singing, or smiling throughout our meal times…and it stuck.  Sometimes our greatest teachers are our children. Grace celebrates life with the fullness of a joyful spirit and the love she has for her brother is encompassed by this. So, we sing. And we laugh. And we share. And we celebrate together.

There are still many meals that are difficult. In fact, just the other night I had to dodge a flying fork! My son still struggles with feeding himself and eating certain things. Although he has made so much progress and we are so very proud of him, mealtime is not always easy. But, we have long since let go of what the traditional “dinner table experience” might look like and we celebrate the best of our unique family.

I want my home to be a place of refuge for my “people.” I want to teach my little ones to celebrate not only the big moments of life, but all the little moments that are shaping their life story. I pray that our hearts would be joyful and our home would be joy-filled.  

So, pull up one of our worn old oak chairs, sip on some sweet tea, and celebrate life with us. You may have to dodge a flying fork or piece of food, it may be one of the most imperfect examples of a mealtime you have ever seen, and there will be singing… but there is love. And you are welcome.

“Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth: make a loud noise, and rejoice, and sing praise.”

Psalm 98:4

Did I mention that we eat with royalty every meal? Grace is dressed in her princess clothes 95% of the time. We also eat with Thomas and Friends. So, as you can see, all are welcome! 

Sometimes

Sometimes it feels as though the world is spinning out of control. I feel I am at the mercy of people I don’t even know, who are making decisions I don’t support, who have a very different perspective on life than I do. My heart finds itself weighted down by the current events of the day. I long for a more simple time. Sometimes I feel compelled to hide my little family in a bubble of self-preservation. For if we were to shut out the world, hunker down, and protect our innocence, surely we would remain unscathed by this whirlwind of a culture. Sometimes I think about what might become of my children’s generation. I look at my precious daughter and son, and pit forms in my stomach for all that they might have to endure. Sometimes I think about the fine line between obedience to my God and obedience to a governing authority and how I pray for a day when that line isn’t so fuzzy. Sometimes the future seems to be surrounded by an ominous fog that is threatening the very existence of life as we know it.

Sometimes God has to send me a reminder.

Sometimes He reminds me that He spoke this very world into existence. Sometimes He reminds me that He is the one who allows nations to rise and fall. Do I have such little faith that I would allow life’s events to dictate the level of anxiety in my heart? Sometimes He reminds me that He placed me here on earth, at this point in history, for a purpose. Sometimes He reminds me that if I were to hide my family in a bubble of self-preservation, that in turn, I would be neglecting His very purpose for me to be a light in the midst of a very dark world. Sometimes the fears I have are a very real reflection of the faith I practice. Sometimes I must stop, for just a moment, and remember that He holds me in the palm of His hands. Sometimes He reminds me that the victory has already been won. Sometimes He calls me to live for a purpose greater than myself.

Sometimes we need to be reminded that God is bigger than any obstacle, any war, any circumstance or event. Sometimes these are opportunities to exercise our faith, pursue His purpose, and to truly seek His face.

Be encouraged friends! The victory is already won!

“So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you. I will hold you up with my righteous right hand.”  Isaiah 41:10

So, we press on!

Love in a Different Language

I have learned that no words are necessary between two hearts. I have learned that brokenness can truly turn into something beautiful. I have learned to let go. I have learned that some things are more important to hang on to than others. I have learned to dig deep and pray hard. I have learned to Love in a Different Language.

Thank you for joining me on this journey of parenting, Autism, and sharing about the faith that holds it all together! 

Alone in a Crowd

It can happen to any of us, and it does. It can threaten our grasp on reality, and it will. It makes us feel overwhelmingly unique in our struggles, though many times we’re not. It has the ability to suck the joy right out of our lives, and we let it. It’s the feeling of “Alone”.

I will be the first to say that I have allowed the feeling of “Alone” to take control of my life at times. The trouble is that when we allow “Alone” to take the wheel of life, it can be a very dangerous ride. “Alone” gives us a false sense of reality. Although our natural desire is to connect, we begin to build walls of protection around ourselves as “Alone” whispers, “No one else would understand”, “No one wants to hear about this struggle”, “What would people think about you if you told them?” , “Yes, you are completely alone.” So with each lie that “Alone” whispers, we add another brick to the wall of protection we are building around ourselves until we become trapped in a self-made fortress of loneliness, feeling cut off from the rest of the world, and longing for connection outside of its towering walls.

Yep, that’s me. As a little girl who grew up in a broken home, I built walls. As the victim of abuse, I built walls. As a young girl with an eating disorder, I built walls. My college years were a time of healing and a time to discover who I truly was in Christ. The Lord gave me strength to tear down some of those bricks that I had worked so hard to put up (my “hedge of protection” that in reality was a fortress of isolation).

I have found that in adulthood “Alone” still offers its fair share of opportunities for wall building. Financial struggle? Put up some bricks. Trouble at work? Put up some bricks. Struggle in a relationship? Put up some bricks. Job relocation? Put up some bricks. Health problems? Put up some bricks. Because surely “I am the only one going through this right now” and “No one wants to hear about this” and “No one would understand.”

I admit to you that just as quickly as I have found the strength to tear down walls of protection, I have just as quickly re-built them with new bricks handed to me by lies from “Alone”. Maybe you struggle with this as well?

But then something happened. Something forced me to decide whether I was going to allow myself to suffocate in self-built walls of protection and the feeling of “Alone” or to break down walls of loneliness and come to grips with the fact that we are all in some way struggling with something- I am not alone.

Our son was diagnosed with Autism two years ago. I cannot begin to describe the loneliness a parent can feel as the parent of a special needs child. I instantly began to build walls of protection with bricks handed to me by lies from “Alone.”

Who could possibly understand what it is like to hear your child’s unsettling screams deep into the night? To have the constant fear that he might elope? Fear of self-harm? Fear of him never being accepted? Fear of what his future might hold- or might not hold? Who could possibly understand how much effort and hard work it took you to change his diaper, brush his teeth, get clothes on him, keep clothes on him, and go somewhere? To watch him struggle? Who else has felt judgmental glances? Who else must try to filter through rude whispers about their child?

Who could understand the overwhelming joy you have when your child makes eye contact with you? Who could possibly comprehend the excitement of holding hands, the triumph of playing appropriately with a toy, or the praise that floods your soul when you make a connection with your child-no matter how small. There are tremendous blessings, joys, and triumphs of being the parent of a special needs child, but who else would understand or want to know about them?

And so the wall building began…I was very busy about appearing to have it all together while building walls of protection and buying into the lie that I was completely alone.

What’s sad is that in a world of social mediocrity, we can get away with this. It’s not hard to look fine, feel completely alone, and get away with it-without someone taking the time to ask, truly care, or invest. It seems we all have full plates, are too self-absorbed, and are too busy building our own walls to stop and ask how the other person is doing.

A friend of mine, who also happens to be the parent of a special needs child, recently wrote this after attending a Sunday morning church service, “So, it is possible to feel completely alone in a room full of people.”

Ever felt that way? Alone in a crowd? I sure have. But my friend’s comment got me to thinking… if she felt alone in her struggles that day, and I felt alone in my struggles that day, is it possible that there were hundreds of other people who felt alone in their struggles that day as well? Thousands? Millions?

And just before I let the walls of “Alone” overtake me, I decided to break free. Having a special needs child has been one of the hardest, most beautiful things that has ever happened to me. You see I finally realized, after a life full of wall building and buying into the lies of “Alone”, that the fact of the matter is: I am not alone.

Each of us have struggles, a past, wounds, triumphs, and joys. None of us are alone. But we are buying into the lie from the enemy that we are “Alone”. It’s the same enemy that the bible says is out to “steal, kill, and destroy” (John 10:10).  Do not let the lies of “Alone” steal your joy or your hope.

Maybe we could all stand to do some “demolition work” in our lives. To break down our walls of loneliness. To invest ourselves in other people’s lives. To have real conversations about real things with real people. I believe what we would find is that, in fact, we are not so unique in our struggles.

Maybe the church, as a body of believers, could stand to do some “demolition work” in the midst of its people.  To break down walls that “Alone” has worked so hard to build up. To unmask the hearts of its people and invest itself in authenticity. Because truly, the church was never meant to be a place for perfect people, with perfect lives, who handle life’s curves perfectly. I believe what we would find is revival.

Friends, do not buy into the lies of “Alone.”  You see, not only are you not alone in the fact that we all are trying to make it through this thing called life together, but I want you to know that God promises to never leave you or reject you! He goes before you. He wants to walk with you on this journey. The greatest desire of His heart is for you to have a relationship with Him, to talk to Him, to lean on Him, and to ask for His strength as you break down life-long walls of protection you have built around yourself. He so desires you that He felt it was worth giving His Son’s life for you.

God pursues us with His love and longs to fill up those holes in our heart that we mistake for opportunities to build walls with bricks handed to us by an enemy who’s goal is to destroy us.

Do not buy into the lies of the enemy! Do not lose your hope or your joy!  Stay strong in your faith. Take some time to invest in others, be authentic, be willing to share, and be open to accepting others just as they are. Dear friend, you are not alone!

“Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.”  Deuteronomy 31:6

We took Ezra with us to Kids Camp last week. They were great about letting Ezra be "one of the kids" as much as he possibly could...including going down the water slide with his daddy!