This is Amazing Grace

As we are getting back into the swing of life after winter break, I feel the Lord has been opening up my eyes and my heart to more of what grace is.  Like a lot of believers, I profess and depend on grace, but find myself being gradually lifted out of a pit I didn't even know I was still in, my eyes popping and fixed on vistas I didn't know I was missing.

I should start by describing my son Stefan's progress.  I just talked to his new health inclusion aide at school, and she told me that from the second day she was there, she noticed a significant improvement.  She said he reaches out to kids who are having emotional difficulties - a kid who has a diagnosis of autism.  He is talking more and more - a kid who barely had five words at age 2.  He is participating in circle time and interested in the centers - a kid who could hardly attend to any task for more than 2 minutes one year ago.

I feel I should stop myself.  It isn't the point all that he can do or cannot do, and I don't mean to boast.  It's just that there are real evidences that things are getting better for him, and for all of us.  We have had a LOT of therapy in the past month and a half, and it has come without extra out-of-pocket cost to us.  We couldn't have afforded it, but clearly, it is what Stefan needed, and its changing all of our lives.

I wrote a poem a few years ago about the struggles I was having as a mom - maybe it will bless someone.

Melancholy mama; will I ever get it right?
Seems like every time I try, things just never turn out right.
Respite and releases only bring me clarity:
Time just isn't what it used to be.
Lord, I know your spirit hovered over chaos deep
Caused the world I know to be; could you order life for me?
Something's got to give, and now I wonder if it's me?
Life just isn't what it used to be.

Parenting is still burdensome, but less so right now.  Having a burden eased, I have been thinking back over the past three years, and realizing how heavily it weighed, and I wasn't even aware of how much of a false belief it was.  Oh, the things I did for image control - thinking that if I could just make it look like I had it together, it would be so.  All of the shoulds - all the pressure; it was crushing me.   It strikes me, though, that perhaps it was crushing me so it could get squeezed out.  For here is what I am now realizing: just like I was living with a burden of all of the good things I wanted to do - right things! - but could not, so a lot of people are trying to be good, to prove themselves, without the proper aids.  Just as Stefan's therapists have come into our lives freely, willingly, invitationally, to work alongside us and enable a radically different life, so the Holy Spirit and the word of the Lord come into a life to enable a grace-empowered, God-focused, divinely fruitful existence.  

Almost greater than that sense of a doctrinal analogy was the sense of better understanding my limitations - limitations I didn't really understand that I had, and therefore was not very well able to communicate.  I am so very grateful that there are people in the world who choose to go into professions that help families with given sets of limitations.  It really sets them free.  Please keep on being God's hands and feet in a grace-starved world.  We are so thankful for you.

Here is the song that has been on my heart.  It is about God's Amazing Grace.

Cherish every moment

I really felt led to sit down and watch a movie tonight.  By myself.  I thought I'd watch a silly Christmas movie.  I was right, but also wrong.

I love Christmas, and Christmas movies, and even silly Christmas movies.  Christmas movie: Disney's Christmas Carol (the motion capture one with Jim Carrey).  Silly Christmas movie: anything about dogs or animals, or made by ABC Family or Lifetime.  I've watched a few in that latter category, though, and found myself surprisingly heart-warmed.

Tonight, I did not know what I was in for.  I saw that this movie had Candace Cameron Bure in it, so I figured it had some kind of meaningful message to it, and I noticed that the film was sponsored by St. Jude's Children's Research Hospital.  I guess I thought the sponsorship was in the "laughter is the best medicine" vein.  I suppose somehow... but nevermind what I thought.

This morning I was reading in Beth Moore's Esther study abot peripety; that moment upon which everything else in the story hinges.  It's the dramatic shift - I remember from AP English the term "peripateia," which is when the tragic hero would come to his/her downfall.  Peripety is now always bad, though; sometimes it's just the turning point.

The movie I watched tonight featured one of those defining moments in the life of a real family, because it was based on true events.  It is a Christmas movie only because it ends at Christmas in a very surprisingly and loving way.  It is about a real family, the Lockes, who discovered that their little boy had leukemia.  They fought with him for an entire year at St. Jude's, and then when the doctors could do no more for him, they brought him home.  Knowing he would not live to see another Christmas, the neighborhood decorated and celebrated Christmas for the Lockes on Halloween.

What caused me to ache so much was watching the family go through the ups and downs - hearing a good report, then receiving another blow, then letting go.  The actress portrayed this whole process with grace as well as grief.  All inspired-by movies simplify things, of course.  The story was told through her eyes, but I wanted to know more about what went on behind them.  In the end, what the mother, Julie Locke, realized, was that life is uncertain, and that it is also a gift.  She prayed Psalm 90:12, "Teach us to number our days aright, that we may present to Thee a heart of wisdom."  Her motto, "Cherish Every Moment," inspired readers of her blog (which began through Caring Bridge, which is one of the best support coordination tools ever).

So their story had a double peripety: first the total shock of living a nightmare of hospitals, sickness, and children dying before their parents.  Even before they lost Dax, their lives abruptly shifted into the world of medicine, procedures, probabilities, testing, and, if I can say it, the world of weird.  The world where the lifestyle is something no advertisement in a magazine accurately represents because it is so unique, and so undesirable that it can't be used to sell products.  Yet, there was a product: the inspiration that is born from desperation and suffering, when one person says, "This is where I've been, and this is what I know."  The Locke family now strives to raise money for St. Jude's, and their story is a testament to the realization of life's value.

I've never wept so much, so unexpectedly, at a movie.  I let myself go.  It mattered that the little boy looked like Stefan.  Maybe this is a peripety for me; it certainly struck a nerve.  I could go on and on if it weren't getting late and I wasn't already worn out from crying.  How difficult to even end a note about a movie about a family who suffered through such a battle.  What grace they were given by the Lord, and what love and was shown through their friends and family who reached out to their family during their 18 months of hospitalization.  What grace they gave me by sharing their story.

It reminds me of the very reason I started this blog.  The motto, "because life and lyrics mean so much" came from my love of songs and, in particular, Chris Rice's "Life Means so Much," the refrain of which is a paraphrase of Psalm 90:12.  Heading into the Christmas season, and beyond, what Dax's story reminds me is that life is a gift, to be lived on purpose.  I am convicted about my fretfulness, busy-ness, and missing-the-forest-for-the-trees-ness.  This season of striving for healing, for wisdom from the Lord, has tendered my soul so much to the issues that were represented in The Heart of Christmas, so I know not everyone will respond to it the same way.  If you have Netflix, and are able, I would say it is a beneficial movie to watch, because at the very least it tune your heart to be thankful for blessings you take for granted.

Even if he does not

Right off the heels of a revelation of God's blessing, a spiritually intense - and potentially rewarding - season follows.  I have begun to pray and fast for Stefan and also for clarity on whatever else the Lord may choose to shed light.  So far, what has happened is that the Lord has led me to a verse to pray or meditate upon for my little boy, as well as for my faith.

Today's blessing was from Habakkuk.  Of all unlikely places to end up this morning, I was there, glancing over most of it after a Bible lesson on patience and timing.  These verses from Habakkuk 3 were part of my wedding vows to Scott.

¹⁷ Though the fig tree does not bud
    and there are no grapes on the vines,
though the olive crop fails
    and the fields produce no food,
though there are no sheep in the pen
    and no cattle in the stalls,
¹⁸ yet I will rejoice in the Lord,
    I will be joyful in God my Savior.

I sort of forgot about those verses until we were on our way home from a playdate.  It really had been a good morning, but toward the end Stefan started throwing fits, and then I got a parking ticket.  It was one of those situations where I was walking up as they were giving me they ticket.  They got some feedback from me.  It was ugly.  I cried from the frustration of the fits and the near-miss at getting the ticket. 

I prayed, and thought about it, and then was kind of okay.  Oh, I'll still try to appeal the ticket.  I think the fine is outrageous.  I'll probably still have to pay, but I gotta speak up.

More importantly (and kind of surprisingly for me to get spiritual about such things) I remembered these verses as I drove.  Okay, so what if I don't have a perfect morning?  What if Stefan still has fits sometimes, and we have to work through it.  Or bigger - I asked myself, "What if God doesn't...?"  What if what I want and what I get are very, very different?  I remembered the three Hebrews who proclaimed to Nebuchadnezzar that their God had power to save them, but even if he did not, they would not bow.  I remember a quote I read a few weeks ago and shared with some friends, "The enemy will always threaten us with what we fear if our faith is conditional." 

My fears often take the form of "What if?" statements.  I realize I need to turn my "What if's?" Into, "Then, God."  I can't deny the situation or bargain with God - I have to trust.  That's what Habakkuk is testifying here - If... then, God.

This has been my story for a long, long time; I may not always share about the lifeless trees and stunted buds, desolate fields and missing livestock.  I need to learn to be more honest about such things; more transparent.  When I fail to be so, it is partly because it is just so uncomfortable for me to share about, and partly because of this commitment, in feast or fallow, to "be joyful in God my Savior," trusting in God's future grace.  Whatever comes... God.

Thus saith the Lord

The Lord confronted me about my attitude today.

He wasn't mean or harsh about it, just straightforward. Direct. The sharpest blades leave the smallest scars. His is the sharpest.

I was having a pity party. I woke up today knowing that I should try to be thankful for as much as I could be, and I have tried, yet still ended up feeling kind of down in the dumps.

I would like to set you up with my excuses the context.

I've been sick with a cold for six days, and so has my son. So we've sort of been stuck together. Do you remember when you were home from school for a week in fourth grade, and you'd watched so many movies and gotten so lonely you almost went crazy? Well, my son and I were both feeling that way, but were stuck together. As a fourth grader I could just let mom take care of me, and I didn't know to be thankful for that. Now, the house gets dirtier the longer I'm sick, and that makes me feel worse.

I had a list of phone calls to make, and they kept becoming more complicated than they needed to be. I aim to live in a world of ideal essence, where the exact thing I mean is perceived in the ether, and my desired answer transmitted simultaneously, static-free. It wasn't working that way. Much of this had to do with dealing with organizing health care appointments for my son. We've been given so much in the way of health care opportunities, but there is also so much to figure out. Provider A needs something from me that I need to get from Provider B. I didn't know that, so must call B, then wait awhile to reschedule with A, etc.

I started a new semester of teaching at the community college. It went well, actually. Yesterday it worked out for my husband to stay home all day, and I got LOTS done. Even when I'm sick, I can do a lot of teaching/research/writing. It's really in the care of small dependents that I find the plastic limits of my selfish skin. Again, a relatively new situation, so am trying to figure things out as I go along. It's okay; it can be a rush, but it takes a lot of energy, leaving less for said dependents.

One benefit of teaching is that I get to take a course or two for free. I considered taking one - I still am considering it - but also thought, how can I start something new if I haven't finished the degree program I started? What if I NEVER finish this degree - and it's all - all the work, the move - for nothing?

I was mulling all of this over, and in my heart, there rose the question, "Why are we out here? Why is everything so hard?" I sensed a response, "Maybe He brought you out here to deal with your bad attitude."

Yikes. Oh, yikes. Desert wanderings... forty years... quail and manna... Oh, no...

My husband took the kids to get a movie, and after I got dinner in the oven I decided to blog a bit because this is just what's going on. There is so much bitterness in my heart and on some days it is really corrosive. Just before I sat to write, I heard Matt Redman singing,"You give and take away/ My heart will choose to say/ Lord, blessed be Your name."

I know that is the right attitude. It is so much my pride that has a problem. I just added tags to this post, and of the six, "bitterness" is the only one that has appeared before. Thematic, tracing a path through this wilderness.

Surprised by joy

 I feel like I should be writing more, but am not sure where to start. I think the days of trying to measure and mold every particle and product of my life are behind me, and I'm emerging into a brave new world of keeping up and pressing on. Which means I have to dare a little bit, and live a life that could very well be characterized by courage, grown from a mustard seed of faith.

My son has been back in school for a few weeks now. On his first day back at school, he had a rough start. They called me about an hour into the day, to let me know about an incident and injury. It was the same kind of thing he would have done at home. As usual, I have a hard time helping people know how to respond to moments like that, because I am not sure how to respond. That is a different story, though.

 My daughter and I went to a play date, which I had mentioned before. We came home, and as I was preparing lunch for the kids, I played some instrumental music while she painted. Often her paintings are kind of wild and unstructured because I just give her the freedom to play with color. She'd been quiet for a few minutes, and I began to dread the sight of paint all over the walls and floors. She never does that, so, now that I think about it, it was an irrational thing to fear. In any case, instead of my fears being realized, my blessing materialized. I walked over to a beautiful painting, the one that is now hanging in my bedroom and matches my brightly-colored IKEA bedspread (which was also a blessing at $10).

I could not believe it. She described it as lanterns, like from the movie *Tangled*. The description touched my heart just as much, because when that movie first came out, Kyrstin still had very long, blonde hair. Whenever I'd watch the lantern scenes, and Rapunzel would feel that they were somehow meant for her, it would always remind me of the song "Maybe There's a Loving God," by Sara Groves.

  I'm trying to work things out
 I'm trying to comprehend 
Am I the chance result 
Of some great accident 
I hear a rhythm call me 
The echo of a grand design
 I spend each night in the backyard 
Staring up at the stars in the sky
 Maybe this was made for me 
For lying on my back in the middle of a field 
Maybe that's a selfish thought 
Or maybe there's a loving God

 I'd always thought that a mural of the lanterns floating upward would be great for my little girl's room. Beautiful, dreamy and symbolic of an upward call. I've never quite been able to express that to her; she will understand someday, I am sure. Especially when He really starts calling her. I've been sentimental about the lanterns all the same, and for her to paint them, and for us to share this joyful moment together, was a blessing I'm so glad I can frame and hang on my bedroom wall.

This is the day

Working from home always brings the dilemma of how best to multitask and balance work/life concerns. Should I wake up and immediately begin laundry, rotating loads as I evaluate student work or type lesson plans? Will doing some house cleaning help me focus as I work, or do I need to block it out and get to it later? Should I break for lunch? Since I don't have to commute, do I give myself that time, or do I try to get more done? Having an autistic child adds extra jigsaw jags to the puzzle. Will he need to be at five appointments each week? Should we bother to drive the extra hour for the weekly appointment with a specialist in a discipline, or is the net benefit the same if we go with a therapist who is closer, and give ourselves back an hour per week? How will making all of his therapy appointments affect the total amount of attention I can possibly give to my typically developing child, who needs me as much as any child? Having just moved, and having the potential, and desire, to move again, I can become either paralyzed, or anal about making decisions. All of these things were going through my head this morning. I thought, God, I need to have some fun today. Some kind of fun, so I can remember to take life lightly, and to trust. Because deep down, I know that even though all of these things are in flux, God is never less in control than when the choices seemed simple. So I sort of sheepishly determined that I should have faith that God would work it out. That is why I was so blessed to read the short devotional from *Jesus Calling* - the kids version - to my kids in the van on the way to their school this morning. It spoke right to what I had been thinking. You can waste so much time planning your day: trying to figure out what to do- and when to do it. Then, when you think you've got it all just right, something happens. Teh doorbell rings, a friend calls, you start to feel sick. Your whole plan is thrown off, so you have to start all over again. And you forget all about Me. There is a much better way. Tune in to Me. I have everything under control: My control. Instead of trying to plan everything, let Me show you what to do now and next. Then you will be free to enjoy Me and the day I have prepared for you. I was thrilled and rejoicing on the way to the kids' school this morning. As I had laid in bed this morning, I prayed that God would teach me to have faith, and build our family faith. This little word was one small step, and believing it will be a giant leap in the right direction.

Open my hands

I don't think I have time to be posting right now, but I still feel like I should. Here is the scenario: the dishes are washing a few feet away, kids are in their rooms "napping," house is dirty. But I read something this morning that I just can't get out of my head. It was about how God works through Plan B, which is sometimes agonizing and very messy. The case in point was God's deliverance of Paul and the crew of a beleaguered ship onto Malta, which was a place of healing, rest, and welcome. The deliverance came through a shipwreck. "Difficulty does not necessarily mean disaster. Heavy winds and raging seas don't always mean you're on the wrong course. It mean mean you're right on target. Believer, celebrate the fact that you may sometimes 'run aground' on the island of God's will for your life! Perhaps He couldn't get you to your destination any other way..." I've read this exact same study before, and had the same profound sense of wonder, coupled with certainty that that is an accurate interpretation. Meanwhile, I've been reading 1000 Gifts by Ann Voskamp, which is a revelation, even though I thoroughly expected it would be. She talks about how we can see God's glory through the rips and tears in the tapestry we thought we were neatly weaving. Her writing is so poignant and painful, yet awe-inducing. I have posted a picture here of my son's handiwork from preschool. He wasn't supposed to be in preschool this early, but because of some developmental delays, he is. My son's difficulties have been a source of genuine bewilderment and vexation for years. I feel badly using the word "vexation," but it's true. It's just a piece of the puzzle that has never quite fit. I've always had this idealistic turn that loved music, art, beauty, and all things inspiring and transcendent. So imagine this type of mama trying to deal with the pain of everyday life and the way the practical things just don't seem to work out, let alone finding time for creativity and beauty-making. It's been very vexing. We thought we were headed one place, and ended up in another. Figuratively, and literally. I've been reminded so many times lately that THIS is where I'm meant to be. The reminders are helpful, because I've struggled to find purpose. I think I've posted on Sara Groves' song "Open My Hands" before, but now I feel like I finally get it. Perhaps Voskamp's perspective is the key. One can believe in all of these abilities of God, and His Providence, and yet, not find it, and yet, still rejoice in what one does find. I'm starting to believe. Oh Lord, please help me keep my hands open.

Of Waffles and Women

Good morning! I didn't know what to make for breakfast this morning. My daughter woke up an hour early, so I had to figure something out. I hate that feeling. I've been kind of grumpy this morning, but not just because of that. I have to have the house all clean for a showing this afternoon, which is practically impossible with kids in it. Also several things got dropped on my foot, which always brings out the worst in me. I ended up making waffles, which were a hit except that my son threw a big fit over washing his hands, and then was throwing his food around. Maybe grumpiness is contagious. I decided to get some childcare for today so I can get some extra work done and keep the house tidy. I think the kids will have more fun away from grumpy mama anyway. Here is a thought I had: wouldn't it be great if churches offered a "planning period" for moms, in which childcare was provided, but nothing was expected of moms except to sit down and be thoughtful about the activities of the week ahead?

Thanksgiving

We had our first Thanksgiving as returned Arizonans today.  It was sweet!  We got to host my parents - what better reason to push to get unpacked and settled!  I was thrilled.

My mom knew I was going to make cupcakes, so she surprised me with an early Christmas gift - a cupcake tree!  I arranged the top two tiers with the 10 turkey-topped cupcakes I made for today.  Even before I served them these little guys had brought so much fun to my life, but then when I put them on this stand my family said they looked like a choir - like a living Christmas tree pageant, if you've ever seen one of those.  They're right, of course.  Just imagine them singing, and try not to smile.

Speaking of smiles, I give you here my little boy enjoying finger foods from one of the pilgrim hat style combination plate and dipping-trays I made.  This was another super fun little project.

I liked when I took the picture below that I got so many people in the shot.  Mom and I were standing in my kitchen, just on the other side of that counter with the food on it.  That's my little girl with her Indian-style hat on that she made earlier this week.  My husband was in the kitchen most of the morning, since he made the turkey and stuffing, mashed potatoes, and cranberry sauce, and heated up the gravy.

Well, below is what it's all about; what we have to be thankful for.  I am thankful that my kids got to host their grandparents for Thanksgiving, that they saw them a week or so ago, and will see them in another week or so.  It's rather magical.

Side note: my daughter is wearing an outfit that my mom gave me at a baby shower for Kyrstin four years ago.  I just discovered yesterday that it would fit her, and was thrilled!  It has a bee motif.  On the bib it says, "Bee attitudes," and it is embroidered with attitudes I want to teach Kyrstin: Bee kind, Bee patient, Bee happy, and Bee thankful.  Seemed perfect for today.

We tried to get family pics for our Christmas card - it's all happening so fast! - but the kids wouldn't sit still.  We'll try again next weekend.

I've been trying to teach Kyrstin about Thanksgiving; we have a children's storybook that, I think, fairly represents the story from both the native American and European points of view.  It states as fact that there was a group of people who did not appreciate the way they were forced to worship, and so they were looking for another place to live.  Meanwhile in BSF we have been studying Abraham, and looking at Hebrews 11, which describes Abraham and others looking for the promised land.  

"[T]hey admitted they were strangers and aliens on the earth.  People who say such things show that they are looking for a country of their own.  If they had been thinking of the country they had left, they would have had opportunity to return.  Instead, they were longing for a better country - a heavenly one.  Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them" (13c-16).

I thought a lot about the faith and endurance of those early settlers.  I know they could have returned on the Mayflower when it sailed back after that first winter, but they didn't; they worked it out  because they believed.  Deep down they must have had the conviction of things not seen, and they stood and walked by faith.  It is a courageous legacy, one that I hope that I can grow and pass on to my family.

Weeping lasts but a night...

I will probably not post much today.  Am happy, but so tired.  Nothing a good nap won't cure.  But would just like to say that I was very encouraged to persevere as a mom yesterday, esp. as a mother of preschoolers.  Thank you, Lord!

I learned about The Morning Center through one of the new DIY blogs I've been checking out.  It seems amazing and visionary to me.  Moms need support - of all kinds.  It's hard at times, but joy comes in the morning.

Breakfast, Lunch, Dinner

We are having a high-protein breakfast today.  I made smoothies with protein powder, powdered milk, frozen fruit and water, plus breakfast burritos.  If that sounds complicated or impressive, it's just a result of combining what I had on hand into recognizable, tasty food shapes.

I think the smoothies were a hit because my little boy drank two Cars 2 sippies of it.  I knew he wouldn't really eat his burrito - he unrolls things and discards the tortilla - so did my daughter.  Oh, well.  We're going for protein.

Here is a dose of the serious cuteness this guy's smile brings into my day on a regular basis.

I could add a picture of the tantrum he is throwing on the floor right now, but you don't want to see that, do you?

Alright, so I only got as far as the first word in the subject. Expect lunch and dinner soon...

...

In the few minutes now before our time of use savings kick in and I run some laundry, here's what I did for lunch and dinner.

For lunch, the kids had leftovers at their playdate.

I also had leftovers; rice and beans plus the contents of a kabob leftover from yesterday.  It was SO GOOD, and something I would NEVER bother putting together for its own sake - I mean I'd never grill veggies and chicken to put them in rice and beans.

For dinner I thawed a frozen dish I'd made from our church's cookbook; the recipe contributor blogs at recipesforroger.blogspot.com and is quite a cook.  I think she brought us this meal when I had just had the little guy smiling above.

It's spaghetti, chicken, cream soup, cheese, Rotel, salt and pepper.  So good!

Well, time of use kicked in and someone is crying in the other room, and it sounded like a fall.  Earlier today I found this:

Which is just life with my toddler boy.  All is well now, but I need to go check.