Starve Fear

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Christian, Christian Women, COVID19, Family, Fear, Friendship, God's grace, God's truth, grace, gratitude, hope, hope in Christ, identity in Christ, Kingdom Service, letting go, love, motherhood, pandemic, parenthood, Parenting, prayer, quarantine, raising children, trusting God, Women

I just had a wonderful conversation with a friend about some of the really hard things we’re facing as a global community, but also the hard things that are sitting on her shoulders. It wasn’t wonderful because of the heaviness; it was wonderful because we loved each other through it.

It’s hard not to feel the weight and fear of uncertainty right now. For those of us who struggle with anxiety, it’s real. It’s tangible. It shows up in our bodies. It’s the lump you can’t swallow. It makes your mind spiral. It crushes hope. It makes the worst case scenario seem like the only outcome.

In these moments, I’m thankful for a faith that teaches me truth. In these moments, which are real, I have to remember that the truth is even more real than my fear.

As I cling to truth, I am also pushed toward gratitude. I am reminded to cure those feelings I need to be grateful for what is real and right and good in this moment. Spiraling out and my mind taking me to places filled with the unknown is not the cure.

Focusing on the now. Taking care of what I can control. Finding joy in the moments that aren’t what I had planned but are still sweet. Being so so thankful and grateful for the health in my body and in the bodies of my family. Being thankful for creative ideas being shared. Seeing others rise up for each other.

I know this pandemic will pass. I know that we are living with some of the most brilliant minds that have ever lived. There’s a global push forward and through. We will get through this. As generations before us survived so much without the amazing advances in every societal area, we will make it through.

In the meantime, focus on the now. Be wise and plan the things you need to, but don’t hold those plans too tightly. Be flexible. Breathe. Focus on gratitude. Pray. Never forget that you aren’t alone. None of us are, and we can help encourage each other.

Starve the fear so much that gratitude has more room to grow. Fear dies when you don’t look at it and feed it. It will pass. One quarantined day at a time. ❤️

Explaining Racism

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activists, civil rights, hatred, I have a dream, MLK, motherhood, parenthood, Parenting, Prejudice, racism, the gospel

Nothing makes racism sound more absurd than trying to explain it to an 8 year old.

There’s no real way to make something so ridiculous make sense to someone whose mind can’t conceive hating and enslaving and subjugating people because of your own fears and prejudices.

The truth is that hatred, no matter the targeted group, shouldn’t make sense to any of us.

My daughter came home with question after question after learning about Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. at school again this year. She couldn’t understand why anyone would kill him for trying to make things equal. She didn’t and couldn’t understand why the world allowed for things to be that way at all.

We have spent the weekend talking about who MLK was historically, but also how who he was makes our family possible today.

Imagine having to explain to your child that your marriage was not legal in the lifetime of their grandparents where you live. Without the work of countless people, I could not have married my husband. Let that sink in.

We couldn’t have attended the same university, church events, or loved each other without there being life-threatening consequences.

It’s something so hard to imagine. It’s something that we want to believe was so long ago, but it wasn’t. The fight for equality and fairness in and under the law has not been attained still, but EVERY STEP FORWARD MATTERS.

Every step matters for the generations who are being born now who will look back at us and see how much more we had than those just one generation before us. One day, we will all be judged solely by the content of our character if we have the boldness to teach that to the generations being raised up.

This is not an easy cycle to break or conversation have, but if it matters, you have to engage it. It’s not nearly enough to say racism is wrong. You have to call it what it is and not be comfortable around it. You have to show your kids what it means to live like it’s wrong beyond what you say.

You have to live like you don’t want there to be any place for it in our world, and if we can do that with courage of conviction, there’s hope that one day, his dream will be fully realized.

Lauren’s Story

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Anxiety, autism, brothers and sisters, children, Christian Women, Developmental delay, Family, Fear, high functioning autism, hope, love, motherhood, parenthood, Parenting, raising children, unconditional love, Women

My daughter is the best person I know. She is made of sparkles and sunshine. She is kind and caring and loving, and she’s so incredibly special. She sees people. She’s sensitive, and sensitive to those around her.

She sees her brothers. She plays with them. She makes them laugh. She leads, and a good amount of the time, they follow. They are a team in the best ways they could be.

Lauren wrote a story at school. She had to come up with characters and a plot and weave all the components of a story together to tell the tale she wanted.

In her story, Princess Lauren is locked in a tower by an evil king. In this story, Princess Lauren needs a hero. Of all the people she knows, she picked a hero who would do anything for her. She picked Ethan. Well, she actually picked Prince Ethan.

Why is that important?

It’s important because Lauren doesn’t see Ethan as her little brother who has autism. Lauren sees Ethan for all that he is. He is her friend. He is someone she can trust. He loves her, and he would do anything for his sister. She knows that. She sees him for all that he really is.

In her story, her brother is the hero. He kills the evil king and put his body in water- which is more violence than I expected, but he stopped the threat to his sister and then made sure he couldn’t get to them. He defeated evil. He risked everything in the way every true hero does.

After the defeat of the evil king, Prince Ethan rescues Princess Lauren. They go home where King Daddy, Queen Mommy, and Prince Joshua are waiting for them. They have dinner as a family, and everyone goes to bed safely (after brushing their teeth). They are all together and happy.

Here’s something you may not know about me. I worry about what will happen to my kids when Rob and I are no longer alive. I worry about what Ethan might need and who will help him. I worry about whether or not they will always love each other like they do now. Not all siblings do.

Moments like these allow me to let go of my worry a little. Moments like these remind me of the times I see my kids becoming best friends. Moments like these let me know that they can always be a team that vanquishes anything they come up against. In all the adventures that await them, I know they’ll get through them all. Together.

It’s a real weight to wonder and worry about life after you’re gone to make it good and right and safe for your babies.

If you know someone who has a child with exceptionalities and challenges, would you do something for me? Be their friend. They need people. It all can feel so isolating and lonely. It all can feel so impossible. Take them for a cup of coffee. Send them a text to see how they’re doing.

They may just be waiting to tell someone about why they cried today or about the story their daughter brought home from school that filled them up. Either way, they need the support of not feeling alone in it. For all the friends who do this for me all the time, thank you.

My Weary World…

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Anxiety, Christian, Christian Women, courage, Family, Fear, God's love, Healing, hope, hope in Christ, hurt, identity in Christ, love, motherhood, oh holy night, parenthood, Parenting, prayer, the gospel, trials, unconditional love, weariness, Women

Oh Holy Night is one of my favorite Christmas hymns. I love the melody, the lyrics, and the way it cuts right through me and into the places that need to be reminded.

I feel so connected with this song and to God when I raise my voice to sing it. As the words fill my ears and heart, I’m reminded of what a wonderful birth did for me.

I’m also reminded of one phrase I wish I cherished more. On Christmas there was born a Savior, and “…a new and glorious morn.” The morning breaks the dark sky with light. Darkness is dispelled and conquered by a magnificent, colorful sky. In the same way, Jesus broke all my darkness with the light of hope, but I am not always mindful that is true everyday.

In times of anxiety, in times of restlessness, in times of sickness, in times of acclaim, in times of triumph, EVERY DAY IS A NEW AND GLORIOUS MORN!

I forget that. I forget that when I’m so tired I don’t want to get out of bed. In this long season of sickness I’ve been fighting through, I forget that each day is an opportunity to fall on my knees in my weariness and rejoice. In all things. Through all things, my Savior was born in a stable, died on a tree, and is alive at the right hand of God. He is praying for me.

He knows the hairs on my head so even in every affliction, my preciousness to Him is not lost. In suffering, He knows my name and intercedes for me. When I stumble and end up scraped in bloody fight to get on my feet again, He is singing over me and rejoicing in the fact that I am His.

He has promised to make something beautiful on the other side of the refining fire for my good and His glory.

In my weary world, I can remember that in this focused season of remembering the start of Christ coming to save me, He came knowing what I would be up against. He came knowing how far He would go to defeat it, and He did. In the moments that I feel like His face has turned from me, I am wrong. He endured that so I’d never have to. He is there. He is waiting. He loves me.

I pray that I would have eyes to see that the morning we will celebrate tomorrow is the first that changed everything. With it came “The thrill of hope…” and that hope is mine- in all things, at all times because of that blessed holy night.

Sorrows

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affirmation, Anxiety, biblical truth, Christian, Christian Values, Christian Women, Death Grief, faith, Family, God's grace, God's love, God's truth, grace, gratitude, grief, Healing, hope, hope in Christ, hurt, identity in Christ, love, miscarriage, prayer, pregnancy, the gospel, tragedy, trials, trusting God, truth, unconditional love, Women

Today I’ve been listening to a song over and over. I woke up with it in my heart not knowing God was preparing a balm I would need.

“In all my sorrows, Jesus is better. Make my life believe…”

This is something I didn’t know would be necessary for today. In the heaviness in knowing people you love are suffering, it’s hard to see the truth over the situation beyond the devastation in it.

It has been a devastating day. I have sat frozen, unable to know what to do or think. Then the melody fills that empty seeming space…

He’s better. He is our hope. Today, He’s having to make my heart believe, but He has gone before. He prepared the way. He knew this grief and suffering, and He made a way for Him to be our eternal comfort. He isn’t angry at our needing to be comforted. He is standing by- ready to remind, to restore, to heal, and in that, my heart can believe.

Truly, in Him the anthem is “Glory, glory…” In Him there is something to be eternally grateful for- even if we have to wait until then to hold that and be wrapped up in it for a never-ending love and celebration.

Today, though my heart is better, Jesus is better and bigger, and in that, my soul can rest.

Open Letter from a SPED Parent

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autism, Christian Values, courage, exceptionalities, Fear, God's love, high functioning autism, hope in Christ, motherhood, parenthood, Parenting, protecting children, raising children, Serving, special education, special education parenting, sped teachers, trusting God, unconditional love

I am the parent who buys extra Kleenex. I’m the parent who will bring you whatever you need for your classroom. I will show up for parties and field trips.

I’m the parent who stresses and prays all summer for a teacher who has the heart to take the time to see my children for who they are and who will give them a chance. I hope that for every child around them too.

I hope you realize that I am so nervous to entrust them to you. I hope that you realize that I have lost sleep over the idea that because I have a child on spectrum, you may not want him in your class.

This is not true of the teachers I am friends with and for that, I am thankful, but I know these people are out there. These people will never look at Ethan and see his potential; they will only see someone burdensome to deal with.

To the teachers who love kids no matter their challenges and struggles, thank you. Thank you for creating a safe, loving environment where my child can be seen and loved and included. Thank you for wanting them to flourish and grow. Thank you for showing up for him. Thank you for adoring him on the hardest of days. Thank you for showing them the very heart of God by loving them unconditionally.

For those who would try strip any part of his personhood away from him, GO DO SOMETHING ELSE WITH YOURSELF. You do not deserve the honor of knowing him, and you certainly should not have other children entrusted to you. To these people, I hope I never have to know you, but if you ever try to harm my child through your disdain of his presence, you will not succeed.

If you can see a person with an exceptionality in any situation and hate their very existence to the point that you would be disgusted by having to interact with them, you are the worst kind of person and your heart is filled with the kind of hate that makes this world a scary place for my son and for me.

If you are the parent who wonders and hopes that your child will be loved, you are not alone. If you are the parent who ever faces this teacher, stand up for your child, and do not give them an inch of room to degrade your child.

Ruined

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anger, Anxiety, Christian, Christian Women, desperation, Family, Fear, God's love, grief, identity in Christ, justice, love, prayer, sadness, sorrow, trusting God, unconditional love

The last few months have been hard. That word isn’t adequate. I have been slain. Things have been broken and torn that will never repair. Yet…

In this suffering I am reminded of how much this world is not my home. In this suffering my heart has known tremendous grief. In celebrating the ending of the life of someone so beloved by me, I grieved. In her life, she was always for me. She always loved me and advocated for me. In that, the pain of loss has been great, but yet, I could still celebrate her reception into the presence of her greatest Love.

That my mind can celebrate. That my heart can find relief in. The assurance of knowing that I will rejoice with her again is a balm for my soul.

There is one I can not reconcile. There is one who I feel is so lost to me. There is one I’m grieving while there is still life in their body. There is one wound I do not know what can mend.

To know you love someone so deeply who you may never see again, ever, is heavy. It is excruciating. It hurts without there ever being a promise of any kind of relief.

Everything hurts for what all has been ruined. All the lives. All the pain. All the suffering.

Yet God in the midst has reminded me that breath in lungs mean that the story isn’t over. It is not over. His heart is still for them. There is room at the cross for them. The mantle given to me has been prayer. I am praying so much I can not sleep.

Though I am tired and slain and my heart is ruined, I know that in this suffering God is good. He is merciful. He endured a scourging and a separation I will never know. The cross broke Him and showed that God’s heart is about justice. Justice is not circumstantial, and our ideas of what that means can not give way- no matter the situation. Our hearts are made to seek justice all while remembering grace. There is grace. If there was grace for my sin that killed Jesus, there is grace for anyone else.

That is what haunts me and make me pray, but I want my own anger that feels so justified. As I pray and God rips my heart apart over my disobedience, I am moved to love.

I can not help but love all those involved, but more than that, I love my God in this suffering. He suffered worse. He knows the grief in my heart because I truly believe it is in His heart too.

So today, where it all feels ruined, He is doing something with what we ruin. When there is only grief, He has a dawn assured to bring new mercies that can wash it all clean. In these hours, I will trust in the Lord to be everything all of us need- sanctifying, healer, and redeemer.

All is not lost, God is on the move.

In between

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ABA therapy, Anxiety, autism, Christian Women, Developmental delay, expressive language delay, Family, Fear, high functioning autism, motherhood, parenthood, Parenting, special education

Do you ever feel like you are right in between the moment where the things are about to change? It’s like spotting a wave coming from the horizon. As it inches closer, you know things are about to be different, and that can be so exciting- or it can be so so scary.

I’m in a place right now of waiting and hoping. I’m not afraid. I feel like we’re been working so hard just to get to this place and the feelings of being in between are about to catapult us into the exciting and long anticipated unknown.

Next month we finally get to start ABA therapy for Ethan. This has been more than a year in the works. We have sat on a waiting list just waiting and hoping that we would move up to the top- any day. We are finally there.

For so long we’ve known that this behavior based therapy would be such a benefit to Ethan. I feel like I’ve been holding my breath in the waiting. I feel like I’ve been super annoying every month that I call to see where we are. I’m fine with that. Asking someone to pull up a list is the least of what I’d do for any of my kids.

In this in between, we’ve watched Ethan struggle and work and cope and begin to find his way. We have watched him become such a loving and funny person. He’s brilliant. The times that are sweet are so so sweet, and I truly believe that all of this in between time has been leading us to this moment of stepping into something that will help everyone around him know him better.

In this in between, I’ve been patient and oh so very impatient.

I’ve been shifting what feel like puzzle pieces in a picture so big that the edges are clear but the middle is unknown. I feel like some of the pieces just aren’t there- yet.

I hope this piece is a really big one. I hope this piece helps us move toward a more clear picture of giving Ethan everything he needs.

“There’s something we need to talk about with you…”

Tags

Anxiety, autism, Christian Women, Developmental delay, expressive language delay, Family, Friendship, grace, high functioning autism, identity in Christ, motherhood, parenthood, Parenting, raising children, siblings, siblings with autism, special education, speech pathology, speech therapy, unconditional love

That’s how the conversation started. We’ve been talking about the need to have it more and more. We had to sit our 7 year old down and explain to her that her little brother has autism.

The biggest catalyst for this day was Ethan getting upset in the truck. He hit Lauren. That’s not a normal response for him. He can be upset to the point of meltdown, but he hasn’t ever hit one of his siblings.

He’s gotten so much better at self-soothing. He calms easier now that he ever has. On Mother’s Day we went out for lunch. Joshua reached over after we sat down to eat and pulled Ethan’s hair. That caused him to jerk and bang his head on the table. He covered his face and quietly sobbed. It hurt, and we knew it.

We both looked at each other in a second conveying that Rob was sorry if lunch was over, and that if it was, I would be okay. That didn’t happen though. We offered to take him outside, but he said no. He stayed in his chair and took deep breaths. He was fine. He did it, and we were so proud.

We were not proud of him hitting his sister. She had hurt feelings. We stopped at home so Rob could stay with Ethan so he could have time out in his room along with giving him space to calm down. I took Lauren and Joshua to Costco. That’s not a big deal for us. We have to make adjustments moment by moment sometimes. This conversation was the overflow of that constantly having to adapt.

First we asked Lauren what she thought about Ethan. She said, “He’s the coolest!” We both smiled. We could see in her smile that she loved her brother. We talked about all the things that make Ethan cool- his kindness, his love for play and laughter, how smart he is, how passionate he is…

The list went on and on. We talked about the things that are hard for Ethan. We explained why Ethan has a hard time calming down or why he gets so upset that he screams in his room for a long time. We told her that his brain works differently than hers. We told her how differences are cool, and Ethan’s differences make him unique and cool.

We told her that we are getting him therapies like speech that will help him express how he’s feeling so we can help him. We told her about how his classroom at school is set up to help him learn the way his brain works.

We talked about how different isn’t bad and that we can never treat Ethan that way but that other people might. I asked her if it would be okay for other kids to leave Ethan out or pick on him or call him names because he has autism. She reared up in the most defensive posture I’ve ever seen her in and said, “No!”

We talked about the importance of embracing people no matter how different they are from us. We talked about that being possible with every person because we all have our own challenges, but that doesn’t mean we can’t love everyone we meet.

We told her Ethan would always need her to love him and accept him with understanding and patience. She assured us she would always be there for him!

Lauren’s response isn’t surprising to me, but it’s something I’ll hold dear forever. I’m so proud of the person she’s becoming. I’m so proud of the way she fiercely loves her brothers.

We will all get where we are headed, one step at a time- remembering what it means to love one another unconditionally. I’m so thankful for our family.

Mad at Autism

Tags

Anxiety, autism, Christian Women, Developmental delay, expressive language delay, grace, high functioning autism, letting go, motherhood, parenthood, Parenting, Women

Some days I get really mad at autism. Some days I see my son struggle under the weight of not being able to process, and it crushes him- which crushes me. Some days I’m less patient than I want to be with the meltdowns, and that makes me mad at myself.

I know I’m only human. I know I won’t do it right all the time. I don’t fancy myself a super hero who is impervious to frustration. I am not.

In the last few weeks Ethan has had more hard days than good. He’s been battling a double ear infection, and out of that, he’s had a hard time. Because of his verbal delay, he can’t always tell us when something is wrong. It usually has to get bad before he tells us something hurts. We have to always be extra mindful and pay close attention to him. I long for the day that he can just say, “My tummy hurts.”

That makes me mad at autism. It makes me mad that the pain has to get so bad before he can make the connection and verbalize it. It makes me so mad that his meltdowns are becoming more aggressive.

I recently started doing CrossFit for this very reason. He’s almost 5, and he’s already a giant and is incredibly strong. I need to make my body stronger so that as he grows, I can help him manage those feeling and help him physically when he needs to be comforted and kept from harm.

Sunday was a bad day. We couldn’t get out of the house to go to church. We couldn’t get out of the house to go to the Autism Walk. It was paralyzing and exhausting.

He’s getting so much better at calming himself down. He’s rebounding quicker, and I’m glad to report that we are finally at the top of the list for ABA therapy. I can’t wait to see where this takes us.

Some days I just get so mad at autism, and it helps to let myself feel that. If I can see it, I can know how to deal with all that comes with it. It also helps me still see Ethan in the hardest moments. I see him and see him struggle, and it breaks my heart. I see the little boy who loves to play and sing and cuddle even when he’s so overstimulated he can only scream. I can still see him and work to get him back to who he is.

Be mad at the behaviors. Be mad at the struggle. That’s okay. Just don’t forget to see your child and yourself. Don’t forget to give yourself grace as you put on foot in front of the other on a path that won’t be exactly like the one anyone else has taken. Your child deserves that, and so do you.