Is Your Talk Fogging The View Of Your Walk?

"Oh, I would never."
"You should"
"You shouldn't"
"Just pray for healing"
"Cheer up"
"Have more faith"

Trite answers. Ever heard any of these before? Ever used them on someone else? Guilty. In our made up minds, things seem so simple sometimes. I just engaged in a vaccine debate where a mother was upset that unvaccinated kids would pass their sicknesses on to her vaccinated and vulnerable children that might cause hospitalization and/or death. That's a scary place and no mother likes to think about her child suffering in that way. I'm on the other side. I've watched my son almost die from seizures that were vaccine related...so I would never push vaccines on anyone. Ever. You know why? Been there done that. I faced hospitalization and near death with my child because of vaccines.

I've heard the "just have more faith" or "we just believe that God is going to heal everything our children have now and in the future so we won't seek medical care". I've heard it all. Words are so cheap, though, until you've had to back them up with your own life and actions. You mean your child had a cold and you believed God for healing? Good for you. That's level 1 on this Wii game we call life. Wait until your child is facing life or death, walking or wheelchair, seizures or no seizures and then please by all means tell me your thoughts on life. I will want to hear every nugget of wisdom you will pass my way. Really -- I will!  I DO always love to hear the stories of when "the rubber meets the road" for people. In that meeting, wisdom occurs on a whole new level.

It's all about the whole "walk a mile in my shoes" thing. Sympathy vs. Empathy. Been there done that vs. I've never been there but I do care. I can understand people wanting to vaccinate their kids for health and safety reasons. I can also see the other side of it. When I look at both sides, I see children suffering. Or as a believer I can also understand wanting God to heal your child more than anything in the world. Been there done that. I understand  pleading with Him to not only let your child live, but live well and prosper. But you know what? God didn't let me get in the way of His healing plan for my son -- He healed him through a few excellent doctors. It doesn't have to be all or nothing. God is too big for that box.

Who are we to tell a chronically depressed person to "cheer up"? Who are we to tell a grieving person how grieve and when to be done with it? Empathy shows up when I can look at a person and say, "Me Too" (to quote my totally awesome church's motto). Sympathy looks at a person and says, "You know, I've never faced what you're facing but let me walk it out with you as best I can." Rarely is anything black and white, sweet and simply summed up in short close-ended responses. Thus, I am well to remember that no matter which category I find myself in -- sympathy or empathy --  there should always be less talk and more walk.

Don't Be A "Lukewarm No-Go"

Have you ever considered -- much like the list of "qualities" we look for in a mate -- making a quality list for friends? I'm not saying writing it down, it's just the mental list we make for what we are looking for. I know I have. I've also considered advertising! Much like someone considering the prospect of the dating game -- the task of finding friends seems arduous and too time consuming. Especially to just get to the point where you look at the friendship and realize it probably won't work.

One time I made a list of qualities I wanted in a friend and then focused on being the embodiment of it to my own friends. In doing that, I quickly realized how short I fall a lot of the time. In a world of superficial, fast, fast, fast, our relationships seem to stay that way too. But if we had a listing, a set of soft criteria, it seems like it would weed out the "no-go's"....or would it?

Do the "no-go's" realize they aren't loyal or are gossipy or unkind? We never think those things about ourselves, right? We tend to think more along the lines of, "Who....me, no...not me." We look out into the crowd and point fingers elsewhere. I recently wrote down 3 things that are critically important to me in my own friendships. These are my "must-haves" of intimate friendship: 1) Confidentiality, 2) Kind but truthful, and 3) Spiritual maturity.

The first criteria of confidentiality is not because I have secrets to keep. God knows nothing much is a secret in my life anymore after Restorative Grief came out. So, it's not about the secrecy. It's more about respect. My life and my stories are mine and mine only to tell. I get that people who share my book with others will also share tidbits of my story -- that is not the type of talk I'm speaking of. I'm more speaking of the catty, chatty coffee time banter. **Sidenote -- we recently became the proud owners of some chickens...they are noisy and catty to eachother...and now I fully understand the saying about women being a bunch of "hens". They cluck for no apparent reason ALL OF THE TIME. Who needs a rooster when you have a loudmouth hen that starts clucking at 5:30am???** And that is where my point lands -- loudmouth hens that cluck and cluck just for the sake of clucking. Well, and to make themselves feel better about their own lives, right? Hey, I've done it and before God whapped me upside the head on the issue, it just felt normal and comfy. The words I would speak of others would become a warm blanky I could wrap and soothe my own soul in and think, "At least I'm not like _________, at least I don't  __________."

My next criteria is the balance between truth and grace. I am a blunt person. I prefer blunt people as friends because us blunties, we just spit crap into the air, let it fall on our listener's ears and hope to move on in the next breath. Air it out and move on. I remember when I was a teenager my mom and I fought alot. ALOT. Did I mention I like to fight it out and be done? My mom's personality is more apt to have it out a bit longer so she would get really mad when I would say my peace and then act like nothing happened. **Another sidenote: my mouth used to be my weapon of choice so "my peace" wasn't so peaceful** She always hated that I was ready to move on afterward but to me it felt normal. I am still that way, whether it's normal or not I don't have a clue. I know for myself I don't want a bunch of "yes (wo)men" in my life. I want my friends to feel comfortable bringing truth to the table even if it's not what I want to hear. I don't like being called out, but it is better than the alternative. Plus, now that I'm more mature, I know I can take the things people call me out on to the cross and work it out with God to test it's validity.

My last criteria is that I want my intimate circle of friends to be coming from similar moral and spiritual backgrounds. The same was true for me even when I wasn't following Christ well. I wanted others who were at my level so I didn't have to hear any one chiding me for my lifestyle. **Misery loves company** Nowadays, however I don't follow advice or opinions unless they line up with what I read in Scripture. I enjoy going deep into Biblical conversations and I want friends who enjoy the same things -- nothing makes me happier than time spent talking about the Lord!

3 things...that's my list! And God has blessed me immensely with a handful of friends that meet and exceed these things. I love that! See, here's the thing, though -- it's not about them -- whether they are good or bad. It just isn't. We can't control them. Here's our tendency...my tendency: before I rate myself on the friendship meter, I put my stylish rose-colored glasses on so that the light shining in the mirror doesn't reflect back and blind me! I (We) look good, right? Mmmmmm Mmmmmm Mmmmm. Yep, we got it goin' on. Anybody would be blessed to call us a friend. Our glasses fog up a bit when we look at others, though, so we take them off. Bleck, the colors aren't as brilliant and we can see more detail without them. That's just how we like to see them...isn't it???? It's the difference of  the 50x magnifiying make-up mirror and standing back to take a full body shot from a distance. We must look at ourselves and our friends using the same standard of measure.

My son recently asked me, "Why are you doing this for her when it doesn't seem like she's a good friend to you?" My reply was this, "It doesn't matter how she treats me. What matters is what kind of friend I am to her. And I always try (doesn't mean I don't fall short sometimes) to be the friend I would want to to have." Does it feel like I am always the one doing the giving? Yes, but is it the rose-colored glasses speaking? **My glasses are like my chickens, they are noisy and usually not saying anything worth listening to**

If I've fallen short in a friendship with you, I am truly sorry. I'm workin' on that! And here's an "I'm sorry" in advance to those friends I will fail in the future. Being a friend takes work and investment so let's be intentional and honest about who we want to enter into that with. If we treat others in a flippant, "take them or leave them" manner, we are lukewarm in our friendship. Be hot or cold, but leave no room for lukewarm -- it's colder than the cold.

Prophetic Words Spoken Over My Teenage Self

In the summer of 1995 my Grandma drug myself and my friend to hear a man by the name of James Spencer speak. I was 17 at the time and absolutely did not want to be there. However, my Grandma loved to torture me back then. On a side note, all that "torture" was really God's prep work in my life. Anyway, there I was in a conference room full of people just waiting for it to be over with. I was trying to be inconspicuous, but God singled me out. From my perspective, it seemed James Spencer honed in on me randomly and wouldn't let go. By the end of it all, I remember crying, accepting the Lord, and I remember him speaking what would end up being prophetic words over my life. He told me "God had big plans for me". Some would say this is just a vague reference, that could be said of anyone. I get it. I really wanted that to be true and I held it tightly in my heart all these years; often telling the story after I saw my conversion in the Lord begin to happen. When he spoke those words, I couldn't imagine it being true but I held fast to it anyway!

The next month, my Grandma told me Mr. Spencer had written about our encounter in his newsletter. I don't remember caring a whole lot and by then was probably already back to my old ways but I've never forgotten about his newsletter either. As I grew in my relationship with Christ, I began to get more and more curious as to what it was he wrote about me.

 I was speaking of Mr. Spencer this past weekend with some friends and it got me thinking. I began to wonder if I could contact him and get a copy of his writing. It was nearly 18 years ago for one, and for two he would have to remember something about it to be able to recall it. "What are the chances of that," I asked myself. Well, yesterday I decided to give it a shot. I looked him up, shot him an email briefly describing our encounter and had a response from him within a few hours.

He recalled that night vividly! He said he wept when he wrote it and he wept when he revisited it yesterday just seeing God at work! I know I've said this before but when God writes a story, He writes a story! Now I can look back on a day in my life and gain heavenly perspective written by a mere human who dared to be the hands and feet of God in my own life. The story immediately dropped me back into the dark place I resided in at the time, but more than that, it filled me with overwhelming joy at God's redemptive powers and the restoration he provides in our lives regardless of how many times we fall or how broken we are.
Take a peek into a day in my teenage life written by James Spencer, author, speaker, hands and feet of Jesus:

The turn out in Twin Falls was small and the audience was tired.  So was I.  Have you ever tried to dig up concrete?

          Don’t get me wrong, these were good people in a good church with a good pastor.  But it was hard that Sunday night just this past month.

          Before the meeting a woman came up to me, escorted by two teen-age girls.  “I saw you when you were in Buhl,” the woman said.  One of the girls obviously was her daughter.  The other one hung back and looked at the floor.

          As I began to preach my prepared text, I was struck by how bored we all were.  The congregation was bored, the pastor was bored, and I was bored.

          That’s when I knew something was up.

          See, I am not bored about preaching the gospel.  Neither is the pastor nor his people.  But that night we were.  Hello?

          When the kitchen sink comes flying through the window—when the devil is working overtime—its time to get excited!  Something is up.  Opportunity is afoot.

          I didn’t know what was up.  But I have been preaching long enough to know when to shift gears.  I began to pray in the Spirit, even as I preached.  What’s going on here, Lord?  What are you trying to do?  Where should I go?

          I began shuffling the deck.  Searching the faces of the people as I allowed God to move me through several ideas in rapid succession.  I was fishing.  I was looking for direction.  Then it came.

          I saw the young girl in the back, sitting hunched over, face to the floor.  The devil wants to keep her in bondage!

          I swung into a salvation message.  At that point I didn’t care about anybody else in the meeting.  Although I didn’t look at her, I preached to her.  (Nothing obvious, no one in the room knew what was going on.  I doubt that even she knew I was focusing on her.)

          You was unmoved by my preaching.  However, the congregation woke up.  I woke up.

          The pastor looked at me like he knew I suddenly knew where I was going.

          When I gave the altar call, several responded, but not my girl.  I prolonged the invitation.  “Don’t let this moment pass.  Don’t leave here and allow the sensitivity you are feeling in your heart dissolve away.”

          Still nothing.  Eventually I had to bring the meeting to a close.

          However, the pastor and I (who work very closely together in the Spirit) both knew the meeting wasn’t over.  He led the congregation in a couple more choruses.

          He called a man out of the congregation and we prayed for him.  We prayed for a family in which the grandparents were raising three grandchildren because the mother was unable to do so at this time in her life.  As we prayed for the children, they began to weep.

          Suddenly, I had eyes in the back of my head.  What I mean is that in the Spirit, I saw my teen-age girl who was seated several rows behind where I was standing.  I turned around and she was still sitting with her face lowered to the floor.

          Do you know you can be in the flesh, even at these moments?  I knew I should go back to where she was.  The draw was almost irresistible.  Is it just my pastor’s heart?  Will I make the situation even worse by publicly embarrassing her?  Will I simply harden her to further ministry?

          I walked back to her and said, “Miss, stand up.”  She stood up but looked at the floor.  Is she a hard case?

          “Miss,” I said.  “Have you accepted Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior in your life?”

          She shook her head.

          “Would you like to do so?” I asked.

          She looked at me for a long moment and then said, almost inaudibly, “I said I wouldn’t do that.”

          Said it to whom?  Said it to me?  Said it to God?  Herself?

          “I didn’t ask you that,” I said.  “I asked you if you wanted to accept Christ.  Do you want to do that?”

          Tears came to her eyes.  She nodded her head.

          “Why are you afraid? I asked.

          She didn’t know.

          “Is it because someone in your family will be unhappy with you?

          Apparently not.

          “Can I pray with you?”

          Yep, I could.  And I did.  And she broke and wept and fell into my arms.  And I broke and wept—and am weeping now as I write these words…

          Listen, God wants to send me to lost people to bring them His message of reconciliation.  He sends me in seminars, in books, and through radio and television.

          Why am I telling you this?  Because I can’t go unless you send me.  Please send me.  How much is the soul of a teen-ager worth?

Sit Tight

Not a day goes by that God doesn’t whisper into my ear saying, “Be still”. The word, “still”, by definition goes against every fiber of my being. Until the last 5 years or so, I haven’t understood what that would even look like. However, God never fails to present these situations that in the past would cause me to squirm, fidget, or even run. Given that I am such a socially awkward person you can imagine how many moments I have in one day!

On any given day I am prone to have multiple situations I would prefer to run from. Somewhere in my life I developed a coping mechanism for each awkward moment. In silent moments, I always had to interject something. In tense moments, I always had to make a joke. In teary moments, I would emotionally separate and probably still make a joke. In moments of disagreement or situations requiring confrontation I would run. In moments of strife, I would jump in and “fix”.

In the last few years though, God has been working with me on this and just really asking me to “sit tight” and feel whatever is presenting itself at the moment – asking me to just let there be silence, let there be tension or tears or whatever may be. Naturally being a “fixer”, it was hard to resign myself to just being present but not coming up with solutions. The idea of just being surrendered to what comes and to be sensitive to the idea that it may be just what the Great Doctor ordered; no matter how uncomfortable it feels to me.

It has itself playing out when I visit my hospice patients – just listening to what they are saying and what they aren’t saying – and staying with it regardless of how uncomfortable it is. It plays itself out in my friendships, just sitting tight and praying for friends or family when they hurt my feelings or gossip or whatever the circumstance may be. This was the point I used to run. Now I feel God asking me to just stay and wait it out. How hard this is! I find myself asking the Lord how long I have to wait. How many times do I have to hear a friend gossip before I can be done? **That was a lesson I learned years ago from a best friend – I loved hearing her juicy gossip about others, but was somehow blindsided when she gossiped about me** Now when I spot a gossip I am the first to turn my head and disengage – let alone pursue friendship. “Lord, you really want me to be a sitting duck just to be obedient to you?”

God is funny that way, though. Somehow He brings people and situations in and uses them to refine us. I can complain all day about others and how they’ve wronged me, hurt my feelings, or gossiped or cheated me -- but it isn’t about others. It’s about me. It’s about what I’m going to do with it. How am I going to handle it? Am I going to sit tight and trust God? And no matter which way I turn, I feel God gently asking me if I’m going to sit tight and trust in Him; to be still and know…that He is God.

I’m convinced it’s Satan voice I hear when the words “run” or “give up” nowadays. I won’t say that God will never tell us to steer clear of someone or some situation – I know better than that. But many situations in life are just that – temporary situations that God is working on behind the scenes. We just have to be willing to sit in the uncomfortable hot seat as long as it takes. It isn’t always pretty, but honestly, the view from that seat is raw and real and most definitely perspective changing.

Has Anyone Seen My Thankfulness?

     When reading the story of the Israelites being led through the desert, provided for at every turn by God himself, I have admittedly thought to myself, "How could they doubt with all the Presence they were blessed with?" How could they, how could THEY, how could they? It seems so implausible given the circumstances, that they could actually complain, grumble, and doubt the fact that they were being Divinely cared for. The day's manna hadn't even digested before they were doubting and grumbling again. And again. And again.

     Four months ago, a doctor asked me if I wanted a chaplain to come sit with me while she and others tended to my son's medical emergency. Two words a parent never wants to hear in the same sentence...chaplain and son. She said, "This could get dicey". For about 20 minutes my little world became a monstrosity of emotions. When they came to get me from the waiting room, a flood of thankfulness overtook me as she said, "The ventilator tubing had kinked itself inside of him. We never see that." Thank God. The problem was not with my son but with the equipment and it was an easy fix. Thank God. Thank God. I wish I could say that was the first time I had seen medical staff have to perform resuscitation on my son. It wasn't. With his seizure disorder, I had seen it before. It looks the same in every doctors eyes. The first time it happened, no one had time to remove me or my mom from the room. We just sat and watched. We watched him seize for over half an hour. We watched him turn ashen gray.

     All of this to say, today, he's a healthy 14 year old boy with nothing medical looming over his future. I have witnessed miracles. Huge miracles. I have been fed daily manna from my God just the same as the Israelites. I have clung to God as my world threatened to crumble around me and asked Him to just stay beside me and give me what I needed to get through that moment. And the next...and the next. Here's the kicker: I have turned right back around and grumbled. Grumbled that I didn't have enough. Grumbled that I wasn't enough. Grumbled because I couldn't feel Him. Grumbled because He wasn't fixing some problem for me. I have grumbled and complained to the very God that has spared my son's life over and over again.

     Hi my name is Cynthia and I am like the Israelites. How could I? How dare I?

     How quickly I can forget the tender mercies of yesterday. The miracles I have been witness to. I have personally seen God do big things! I have had some of the best seats in the house and yet, I have found myself telling God I need more, I want more, show me more. Someone said something today that got me thinking about this. I have seen such great wonders of God. The Israelites had seen such great wonders of God. What if, because they saw such huge and obvious blessings literally pour from the heavens, they became addicted to the constant shower of Presence and the rush of adrenaline God provides. What if the greatness of what they saw made everything else about life mundane and boring? Laborious and monotonous. Thus came the grumbling and complaining. What if they had seen God provide so much they wondered in their humanity when God would stop showering them with blessings and do away with them because of their lack of faith or disobedience?

     I would be lying if I said I never think those things for myself. I have experienced the Presence of God in huge ways -- as if He were sitting next to me. So in between those huge experiences, I find myself asking Him why I can't feel Him. As if He has left me. Yeah right. It's my attitude that has tried to leave Him. It's the world, Satan, that has crept back in to my thoughts telling me I don't have enough, I'm not enough, I will never be enough.

     So, what is enough? When has He done enough? When will I stop complaining? When I force myself back to the beginning. When I pull myself out of my stinkin' thinkin' and grab hold of my foundation again. Christ dying on the cross just for me is enough. I know that, it's huge. Yep, that's enough. But He didn't stop there for me and He doesn't stop there for you either. He's already done enough but He keeps doing. He spared my son's life multiple times when the reality is He didn't even spare His own Son's life.

     I tend to read the Israelite story with disgust at how they could lose heart with God right there, providing just because they were His chosen people. And yet, I, four months out of my son's surgery found myself losing heart and becoming frustrated with life's situations. I found myself asking God where He was and why I couldn't feel Him. Once I get my heart right, I realize He's still here, still right next to me. Still doing big things, but how could I notice when I won't pull my head out of my worldly "ars" and look with my heavenly eyes? God never abandons us, but too often our perception does.

Kasey's Scoliosis Journey

My son Kasey turns 14 on December 14th. His scoliosis was discovered just after his first birthday. It was of little consequence back then compared to his other health struggles. They were giving him an entire body work-up due to uncontrollable seizures when they discovered the scoliosis and a hole the size of a quarter in his little heart. At that time, the hole was the immediate concern because it was so large and even having a bowel movement could have caused him a heart attack. That was immediately fixed and we began monitoring his back. All these years he has been in multiple body casts and braces for months at a time to try to control the curvature.

In 2002, K had a partial spinal fusion in his lumbar area. They added cadaver bone to a vertebrae that was triangular-shaped and he went into a body cast immediately after for a few months. He was given a wheelchair and we were told not to let him walk for a while. So, I would pull the wheelchair up to our basketball hoop (because b-ball was his fav!) and my other son, Noah, just a year and a half old would fetch balls for him. I believe we only made it about a week before K figured out how to wiggle out of his chair and I found him standing up playing ball WITH Noah and that was the end of keeping him down. Same with his open heart surgery. Just a few days post-op, he was standing up in his hospital crib shaking the side of it! He sure is a trooper and if you know him, he's got a wonderful attitude so I'm sure that his upcoming surgery will be no different.

Since 2002, it has only been body casts, braces, and frequent doctor visits to closely monitor his growth. In late 2008 we got news that it was time to address surgery. We did everything needed and even drove through a massive snow storm to Salt Lake City Shriner's for the surgery. When we met with doctors however, they said it was a no-go. And we've been on the "surgery or not" roller coaster ever since. Some of you have been on that with us and probably got tired of us getting all ready for surgery only to say it was cancelled. It was very emotionally taxing, and honestly, it will be a relief not to have this major surgery looming over us anymore. We never could totally understand why surgery kept getting cancelled. Now we plainly see it was because no one really, really knew what the best plan of action was.

Last year in December we met with K's docs to discuss recent results of his spine MRI and CT. We were told that his spine had gotten worse and was very complicated. Shriner's deal with children and although K is a child, they said his back and spinal cord had issues more commonly seen in adults. They said they would need to consult with other docs around the country to see how to proceed because the risks of doing surgery on his complicated little back were just as risky as not doing surgery. There is an issue of his own vertebrae damaging his spinal cord if left untreated but to untangle and fix the mess that his back is in, comes with the same risks including paralysis, loss of bowel and bladder control, diminished quality of life, loss of the ability to walk, etc. It was very clear to me that we had now exceeded Shriner's scope of knowledge, the docs were perplexed, and we would need to find someone who was comfortable takeing his case.

We sat in limbo until about a month ago when I contacted some local docs recommended by Shriner's. Our new doc looked at the CT/MRI results and concluded the same -- it is highly risky, but surgery needs to be done immediately. The new info he presented, however, brought all the on again/off again limbo into clearer focus. What we hadn't been told previously was that his 2002 fusion was no longer in place, that he had a tethered cord (which is that his spinal cord is being pulled on at the bottom due to an attachment called a fatty filum), and a small syrinx or outpouching in his spinal cord. We had him tested years ago specifically for tethering and syringomyelia at the recommendation of our chiropractor. The results came back negative. You can imagine our shock last month to find out that those complications actually did exist and had existed all along. The issue is that someone might have overlooked these things because they were so small and hard to see. The on again/off again kept happening because in light of all the extra issues, surgery is risky and there is no guarantee it will makes things better and not worse. There is no manual, no story that is identical to what we are dealing with and hindsight will be our only guide as to whether we made the right decision or not. The awesome praise about that visit is that the doctor said he is so much more flexible that he should be (I think it's because our awesome Chiropractor worked on him nearly weekly since we found the scoli) and that kiddos with Kasey's degree of curvature have usually had multiple surgeries due to internal organ compromise...his organs are healthy and happy :)

So, a few weeks ago we met with a neurosurgeon to discuss spinal cord, tethering issues that would need to be addressed in their own surgery prior to the fusion surgery. She also met us with some perplexity. I should be used to this with K at this point because nothing in his life has been cut and dry. One doc years ago used him as a case study because of his complexities. The neuro said she would ask other neuro's and see what their opinions are because spinal cord surgery may be necessary but it may not be. Well, today her call came. He needs to have surgery for his tethering but originally we were told it would require two surgeries, now they are going to do the fusion and tethering in one. August 29th. That's our day. Tomorrow we go in for a pre-op appointment where we will learn more about what's to come. I've stalked these docs online and learned all I can about them and their reputations and I feel 100% comfortable with them doing it. Where I lose it is in the risks and the amount of pain they tell us Kasey will have post-op.

The expected outcome for him is that after 6 mos of recouperating, he will be able to join right back in to all the sports he loves! He should be able to walk further distances, and his daily back pain should become little to nothing. He should be straighter which will lighten the load on his organs, it could possibly cure his migraines as thethering of the cord can cause them. And it could give him enough height to slam dunk a basketball! (Well...almost!)

We are fully placing our faith in God and this hasn't come without lots of prayer. We feel peace about moving forward with surgery but we know there's no turning back once the decision is made. There is no way to know what the future holds. We feel it holds peace, health, prosperity, and long life for our son and we are holding tightly to that.

The neurosurgeon will go in and cut the attachment that is causing the tethering of his cord. The biggest risk with her is that she could cut a nerve root and it could cause numbness in a certain area. Her part is self admittedly easy compared to the other two docs'. The spinal fusion will be from neck to pelvis. It will be an 8-12 hour surgery with docs who have done many of these surgeries in third world countries with much less technology and even by candlelight. God led us to these doctors, of that I am sure. In the link below, you can learn about the fusion surgery as told by one of Kasey's actual doctors.

We know the power of God and resiliency of our kiddo so we ask you to join with us in praying for Kasey, our docs, and our family as we face this last foreseeable hurdle in Kasey's journey to wellness. I am not beyond begging for your prayers and in advance, thank you, because you will never know how much those mean to us.

I am planning on using this blog to regularly post updates to family and friends so feel free to subscribe if you want to stay in the loop. Any who know me, know I am not good at making/answering phone calls so this will be a good spot to get info.

I Prefer Distractions and Delusions...

     Today my thoughts have been ripped from my delusional, happy place back into reality. Let me tell you about my happy place. It's wonderful, really, really wonderful!

     My happy place exists only in my mind but being the imaginitive and highly convincing soul that I am, I exist there pretty much daily! It brings peace and contentment to some otherwise unnerving situations. It is a place where no one is sick, there are no medical issues, no specialists, no doctors, no bad news, no special needs, no worries about the futures or safety of my boys, no major medical bills, no blended families, no past baggage. In my delusional world, BOTH of my boys are healthy. My husband and I do not have a blended family but instead are a wonderful, solid little family -- who see eachother every single day. Our family is the most awesome in the whole world! We have grandkids and a daughter-in-law to die for. We have no one meddling in our lives, no one stirring up trouble. The awesome family, daughter-in-law, grandkid thing is actual REALITY. The farce of that is the blended part. There are parts of our lives that blend about as well as oil and water. Those are the things I ignore in my happy place. On a regular basis I am effective at ignoring those things and existing as if all is well. It has become a self-preservation mechanism for me, my health, for my marriage, for my sanity (well, what little sanity I had anyway).

     I have been re-doing my bathroom this week while my hubby was on business in Pennsylvania. I jumped into this project quickly initially thinking it was just because it needed done. I quickly realized it was really just a distraction from what was to come. I knew I was expecting a call at the end of the week. Today is the day the call is supposed to come in. Today I am sitting by my phone waiting...waiting on a  Neurosurgeon to tell me what the future holds regarding my 13 year old son and a spinal cord surgery. I am weepy, on edge, and yanked from my happy place. I have a good idea of what is to come. This spinal cord surgery is in question. But even if it doesn't happen, there's another definite spinal surgery immediately waiting in its wings. So the only question is: will he have one surgery or two? And when will this nightmare begin and end?

     I have faith in God. I have faith that He will come through for my son. I pray about it all the time and many others have joined us in regular prayer. It's not a lack of faith that makes me cry. It's not hope for the future. It's the pain my child will have to endure no matter what outcome awaits us on the other side. We sometimes question how much our son absorbs due to his mental challenges but the other day in the car when he sat quietly for a long while, I asked him what he was thinking about. He said he was thinking about his surgery pain. I would be stupid to think that I'm the only concerned with what is about to happen. It weighs on my child's mind. It weighs on all of us. However on a normal daily basis we could ignore these thoughts because they weren't yet imminent. Now it's staring me in the face and I miss my happy place. I can be so delusional regarding my son that his limitations will shock me all over again because I see him as so normal on my daily radar. My son has a speech problem???? Oh yeah, he does, I forgot! He isn't "normal"???? Oh yeah, I forgot. He has severe scoliosis??? I guess I remember that.

     I love delusionality and when I can't be in that space, I love me some distractions. It's not all bad though, my bathroom now looks AWESOME! And my happy place is vacant now for a (short) while, so if anyone is looking to get away, I would be willing to rent it out for a small charge!

And most importantly, if and when you think of us, say a prayer for our family. What is to come for us is the biggest mountain we've had to climb with Kasey in about 10 years. Good or bad, I feel out of practice with handling reality.

Where Do You Find God?

When I was younger, I remember thinking that church was where one would go to find God. I knew I could pray to Him anytime, but it seemed if one wanted to find Him it would be in a pew on Sunday. Even certain holidays seemed more magical because there was an undeniable awareness of why it was being celebrated. It was always so fun to get in the spirit including getting dressed up a bit and reminding myself of why exactly I was even taking the time to celebrate. Sundays were wrought with excitement for church and they always seemed like a breath of fresh air to break up the monotony of the week **monotony is so not me**. Because God wasn’t necessarily an everyday part of my life, on those special days when I did “re-discover” Him, they were like scrumptious little indulgences for my soul and I always felt warm and fuzzy afterward.
     Fast forward to January 2, 2011 when the holidays have come and gone but those warm fuzzies never seemed to climax. I tried in every way to set the mood, hoping to wholeheartedly invite those feelings to come and stay a while but to no avail. It’s been like that for a  few years now, where every holiday we celebrate leaves me with an unsatisfied feeling yet I could not pinpoint why.
     Here’s the conclusion I’ve come up with. I don’t find God in a pew. I don’t find God on Christmas, or Easter, or Memorial day, or Halloween, or Washington’s birthday, on April Fool’s day, or National Secretary’s Day. DISCLAIMER: I ALSO DON’T FIND SATAN ON HALLOWEEN, IT’S ONE OF MY FAVORITE HOLIDAYS OF THE YEAR AND I LOVE JESUS (yep, I know, It’s scandalous). Anyway, I do find God often, it’s just not in the same places it used to be.
Lately, I find God most often at the gym. Especially when I’m short on breath, aching, and feeling like collapsing — I pray hard! No, really, it’s in those moments when I’ve blocked the rest of the world out, and I’m focused on nothing but my soul and my God. See, I go to the gym more for the spiritual alone time than I do to burn calories. I go there with the specific purpose to connect with God. Whether I’m running, swimming, lifting, or stretching, it’s a safe bet that I am also praying. I have actually had times where I’ve been so into praying, someone will run up behind me and scare the crud out of me. But, I find God anyway. I have also found God while watching my 12 year old swim his little heart out because with each of his strides I remember a gaping hole in his heart that threatened his ability to live, let alone swim. I find God in my answered **and unanswered** prayers. I found God last week while sitting in the county jail listening to women expressing stories of brokenness and hope. If I am focused and watching, I can find God every single day.
And, as with any relationship, at the beginning it’s fiercely exciting and euphoric. Those were the moments I found God in church and on holidays. It is a wonderful “feel-good” experience and because it’s not the norm, it’s noticeable. Now that I am in consistent relationship with God, it lessens the euphoria so when holidays and special occasions arise, they seem almost anti-climactic. Yet, I know it’s because that intense, adrenaline/endorphin **happy, happy** rush is spread more evenly throughout the entire year. We shouldn’t only be finding God in the holidays and on Sundays. Look for Him tomorrow — It’s Monday, nothing special, but keep your eyes open. ADDITIONAL DISCLAIMER: IF YOU ARE NOT A MORNING PERSON (ie…me) HAVE A CUP OF COFFEE, THEN LOOK. Have a happy Monday!

Because It's What You Do

Below is an excerpt from an email I got today that is really relevant to the way we work our lives sometimes. I am trying to be really aware of “why” I do the things I do lately, and sometimes I come up with the answer of “because it’s the way it’s always been done”. However, that’s not good enough for me, I need good answers to “why”. And if there is no good reason why, it’s back to the drawing board I go. Do you have anything in your life that you do because that’s the way it’s always been done, yet you don’t know why and/or it just seems like there may be a better way? I like to take the issue at hand, measure it up to my values and belief system, and decide whether it’s time well spent or not.
We spend so much time doing some “things” just because it’s expected or tradition or just because you “should” or  ________ (you fill in the blank). Don’t let others “should” on you! Buck the system (be it religion, family, job, etc) that doesn’t want you to think for yourself…I follow the “shoulds” of God because I have thoroughly researched Him and The Bible and wholeheartedly believe in His “shoulds”. They are worth my time! What “shoulds” and “just because’s” are worth your time? Which ones are irrelevant and unproductive?  Happy Monday and here’s the excerpt:
If you start with a cage containing five monkeys and inside the cage,
hang a banana on a string from the top and then you place a set of stairs
under the banana, before long a monkey will go to the stairs and climb
toward the banana.
As soon as he touches the stairs, you spray all the other monkeys with
cold water. After a while another monkey makes an attempt with same
result … all the other monkeys are sprayed with cold water.
Pretty soon when another monkey tries to climb the stairs, the other
monkeys will try to prevent it.
Now, put the cold water away. Remove one monkey from the cage and
replace it with a new one.
The new monkey sees the banana and attempts to climb the stairs.
To his shock, all of the other monkeys beat the crap out of him.
After another attempt and attack, he knows that if he tries to climb
the stairs he will be assaulted.
Next, remove another of the original five monkeys, replacing it with a
new one.  The newcomer goes to the stairs and is attacked.The previous
newcomer takes part in the punishment… with enthusiasm.
Then, replace a third original monkey with a new one, followed by a
fourth, then the fifth.  Every time the newest monkey takes to the
stairs he is attacked. Most of the monkeys that
are beating him up have no idea why they were not permitted to climb the stairs.
Neither do they know why they are participating in the beating of the
newest monkey.
Finally, having replaced all of the original monkeys, none of the
remaining monkeys will have ever been sprayed with cold water.
Nevertheless, none of the monkeys will  try
to climb the stairway for the banana.
Why, you ask?  Because in their minds…that is the way it has always been!

Dear Birth Mother

Remember that day? The first day you laid eyes on your sweet child? The moments after you gave birth, the cry of your baby, the cutting of the umbilical cord? Did you have nurses watching you so intently it made you feel uncomfortable? I know I felt like I was under a microscope. I also know I didn’t like what I saw of myself when I was lo0king through the lens. That day…the start of the most painful season of my life. 6 years ago today was my day.
     All the emotion, all the memories snuck up on me last night as I recounted my hours of labor. I remember who was there, I remember who wasn’t. I remember clutching my baby boy for two solid days as if the tighter I held the more my reality was going to change for the better.  As if I could hold him tight enough that somehow I could meld him permanently to me and I wouldn’t have to let him go. I remember my constant tears and pleas to God for my situation to miraculously change so we could go home together just like any other mother coming to the hospital to give birth.
     I am reminded that the most intimate and personal memories of my pregnancy/childbirth are mine and mine alone. Because the key players in that season of my life have now passed on.
     Who do you share your memories with? Do you still feel alone? Are you years out of your adoption yet you still feel like that broken girl laying in the hospital bed crying herself to sleep?
     Does time seem to have left you behind with no good reason to catch up or move on? You are not alone. God remembers you. And God remembers the day. You may share no memories with anyone else, but God shares them with you. He was there. He watched your little one being born, He watched them cut the cord, and He looked upon you with love. He shared in your grief and sat patiently by your side, waiting. No, you weren’t alone and you still aren’t.
     Maybe your wound is heavily guarded and maybe you even do that in complete secrecy. Won’t you stop coddling it? Won’t you let light in? It hurts to expose it but it’s time to let down your guard. It’s time to let the Healer of all wounds in to let Him do what it is He wants to do.
     That baggage that you carry, it gets so heavy. Let the Lover of your soul carry it for you. Today is your day so let it all go. Today is your day, God’s beloved birthmother. I don’t claim to know what His plans are for you, but I know what is not in His plan for you and that is this: You were not created to carry the weight and sorrows of this life around with you constantly.  He sees your pain, He sees your sacrifice, your anger, your brokenness, and everything else.
     He loves you more than anyone ever and He is the key to truly overcoming your adoption grief, you just have to let Him in.
     Take heart because you are loved, you are valuable, and you are not alone.
Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with that person, and they with me.
Revelation 3:19-21

10 Reasons To Adopt A Special Needs Child

I found that keeping this list to 10 reasons is..well…impossible. So my 10 reasons are only going to focus on you…the adoptive parent. Not what you can bring a child but more what a child can bring you. Please note that I in no way, shape, or form believe adoption to be about what a child can do for you. A most important piece in adoption is what you can provide a child. But the rewards that come from parenting a special needs child are like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. My 12 year old is my “handi-absolutely-capable” son, then I have a younger son that is ”not special needs” and I am also a birthmother. So, I can offer my knowledge from many perspectives. I find it rewarding to parent both my children, but my older son (Kasey) has brought the perspective that often gets lost on parents of healthy children who sometimes take their children’s lives for granted.
As an adoptive parent, I’m sure you have a plethora of love and life to give. Let me tell you, if you adopt a special needs child, you will get more of these things than you ever could offer. So, enough of that…let’s get to the list:
1) Do you want life on a whole new level?

This is a picture of my boys giving end of life care to our 15 year old dog, Shep. When we took him to the vet for euthanasia it was Kasey, me, and my husband. My husband and I both cried. Kasey held it together through the whole thing and pet our dog to the final breath. Later when we went to my parents home in the country to bury him, Kasey lifted Shep’s ear before we put him in his grave and told him “goodbye Shep” –still never shedding a tear. I asked him if he was sad that Shep had passed and he said yes. “So, why haven’t you cried?” I asked. “Because Shep is in heaven and I will see him again.” Cut and dried, plain and simple. Eternal perspective. The same perspective that caused him to excitedly wave goodbye towards the casket of my grandma when she passed. I am always the bawling mess and he consistently gives me the right perspective on things.
2) Do you want to feel alive?

That scar right down the middle of his chest is from open heart surgery when he was 15 months old. He had a hole in his heart the size of a quarter. The doctors said that up to that point even having a bowel movement could have given him a heart attack. He had drainage tubes, wires, stitches, a monitor stuck in his carotid artery to measure pressures, he was black and blue and yet in just a few days he was standing in his hospital bed shaking the crib. It was like “Yeah, I just had open heart surgery, so what?!?!” I wish I could say I handled everything well then but the truth is, I loved him more than I had ever loved anyone and he was suffering more than anyone I had ever known. I was lost and looking for something to drown my pain. In so many ways I wanted to be the turtle with her head in the sand. I felt alive alright. But not in a good way. Yet, looking back on his times of greatest infirmity, he still lived. He still showed care for others. He handled everything given to him with grace. He never seemed to lose sight of life. In all emotions we are reminded that we are still alive. Parenting special needs children isn’t all rainbows and butterflies, but around every turn you WILL feel alive. You WILL be reminded in sickness and health of what is important — and **that** is living.
3) Ever wondered what it would be like to entertain an angel?

Enough said.
4) Need a reason to smile?

A special needs child will give you oodles every single day — and they won’t be smiles cracked from everyday triggers. They are unique!
5) Want acceptance for just who you are?

So do they I hate comparing them to dogs, but honestly, it seems the only ones with the natural, absolutely pure, God-instilled, deeply rooted gift of unconditional love is special needs children and dogs. I love them both!
6) Want to feel God’s love in a tangible way?

If you are lucky enough to get a hug or kiss from a special needs child you can very readily assume that God is just passing His love for you through a child. They embody God’s love and affection for you.
7) “Normal” kids reach hearts. Special needs kids penetrate them.

Everyone remembers Kasey. Everyone loves him. Even if they haven’t met him, he captures their attention. And the best thing about it is, it doesn’t go to his head. He’s just the same to anyone and everyone.
8) Do you struggle with feeling sorry for yourself?

You won’t. They will teach you courage, perseverance, patience, grace, and standing firm in your own life’s plan.
9) Need someone to bring you out of your shell?

So did my younger son, Noah, and I. Sometimes Kasey is to us as a parent is to a child — embarrassing. To us who really value being unnoticed on a day to day basis…yeah that never happens with Kasey…we had to learn to stand out and be proud.  He will drop a beatbox rap or bust into a full fledged all-out YMCA rendition in any aisle of any grocery store at any time. This picture is of Kasey bringing Noah out of his shell and actually trying the school talent show. It’s a memory Noah still talks about to this day. I have no doubt Noah would not have had the guts without his brother by his side.
10) Everyday is an adventure!

Yep…that’s Kasey…After eyeing the fingernail polish sitting on the table, he thought it would be funny to paint his nails. Then, I talked him into a make-over, a dress, and a pose.
Luke 6:38 says, “Give, and it will be given unto you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.”
In giving your love and parenting to a special needs child, you truly are getting multitudes more than you can ever give. I promise.
I wish I lived as abundantly, as joyfully, as simply, as boldly, as attentively, as lovingly as my special needs child.
I wish I could melt, penetrate, and soothe hearts the way my special needs child does.
I wish I understood God’s love and undying devotion the way my special needs child does.
I wish I held unswervingly to my faith the way my special needs child does.
I wish I possessed the massive amount of spiritual gifts my special needs child does.
I wish my intellectual capabilities were severely over-shadowed by my intuitive, soul softening, kind and caring ways.
Some reason that a life labeled “special needs” is best ended in utero because quality of life will be diminished. I only wish my quality of life resembled my son’s. I have yet to meet a special needs person who struggles have burdened them so greatly they would have preferred their parents to abort them. Just ask them.

Integrity...It's What's For Dinner

My 9-year-old to me: Can I lose just a little bit of integrity and only pay Kasey (brother) 50 cents for the backrub he gave me instead of the $1.25 I told him?
 Haven’t we all hit those integrity crossroads at some point? Moments after he said this to me, I began having flashbacks of recent incidences where I had that choice to make also. Can I say I took the high road? Not every time. And sometimes it’s not the low road you should worry about as much as the middle road. The low road is like where you fall competely on your face — integrity (or lack thereof) in the open for all to see. The middle road is where compromise happens, no one necessarily sees it; it’s not as bad as _____, yet you still missed the “right” mark and you feel it inside. Take that road enough, though, and your internal compass will start to change with it. When we can do wrong things and not feel that icky feeling inside, we should check to see where North points on our compass.  

 Thinking about the roads we travel in life and the choices we are faced with everyday, integrity is so important, yet we seem to be finding it less and less in this world. We reward politicians, sports figures, etc, etc, for less than optimal behavior. We look up to these people and often times, so do our children. So, what can we expect but that our children model what they see, even from us?

 I have had my moments where I’ve compromised my integrity because I’ve felt justified. I’ve built my argument, reasoned it out with God as to why it was necessary, and stooped to levels set by others out of my raging desire to defend myself. The level of integrity I require from myself is extremely high but sometimes, I feel like I have to come out with my claws showing when I feel threatened. 

It truly is just a series of little compromises beginning in our minds. The thinking that, “Well, I’m entitled” or “they deserve it” or “God wants me to have it” or “they should be held accountable”, and the list goes on and on. As soon as I begin to think those thoughts, my actions are not far behind. Often times immediately after I have justified my lack of integrity, I almost feel euphoric. Yet I know that the sting of regret over allowing myself to get caught up in such a low-level of thinking and behaving is not far behind.

 Why can’t the right decision be easier to make? And why can’t it have a better pay off? So many times, the right decisions go unnoticed and are mostly anti-climactic. Generally, it doesn’t come with the pat on the back or the climax in the story. Sometimes I wonder how I’ve ventured so far in life, yet I share so many similarities with a 9-year-old boy (or for that matter even a 3-year-old with a toy). In my son’s case, wanting to hold on to his hard earned money was a good, healthy quality. But is it still a good quality if we have to cheat others to hang on to it? Do I need to lower my level of integrity just to defend myself to other humans? God knows and I know. That should  be good enough for me.

 Even if the payoff is only having peace of mind with no outward signs of the high level of integrity you have just claimed for yourself, it’s still worth it. Nothing on the outside matters unless we are true to who we are and who God says we are as His children. You are your own reward. Looking in the mirror and loving what you see is priceless. Live exceptionally because you deserve it. The gift of Integrity is already in you, you just have to habitually tap in to it.

That Room

A few days ago, my younger son and I were driving along listening to my Grandpa’s CD (the one who just passed away a few months back). It was old Gospel music — a love I shared with my Grandparents. I knew with how I was feeling I should probably turn it off before the flood of tears came, but kept flipping through songs until I came upon one from a children’s video my kids used to listen to over and over when they were really little. Well, with my oldest turning 13 the day before and the holidays and the grief and the realization that my kids were growing up, the tears came. So, I quickly turned to the radio for something fast to distract myself. I continued on with this leaky eye syndrome the entire day. Today was a little better though, I hid under my covers most of the day sleeping. That doesn’t leave much time for tears!
Not a bad day today. That is until my family and I went to the hospital to visit our neice that had just given birth to her first child. Immediately when we pulled in to the hospital parking lot my oldest so lovingly reminded me that this was where Grandpa had been. A quick yep and a quiet reminder that we still weren’t mentioning Grandpa’s name until mommy could regain control and we were on our way in to meet our newest family member. Soon I realized we were heading straight into the room I gave birth to my last son in. The son I chose adoption for. The room I spent hours pleading with God in to make a way for me to keep my child. The room I almost literally flooded with my own tears. The room I held my son tightly for the first and last time all at once. Oh the kisses, the hugs, the snuggling, the begging, the pleading, and the “I Love You’s” that happened for me in that room. So long ago, yet, being thrust into that room again, it felt like it had just happened yesterday. All I could do was sit quietly and hold my neice’s son, praying that the moment I needed to fall apart didn’t happen in front of everyone in that room. That crying room. The room where my heart broke to the deepest level ever — the level that feels like the brink of death. That room where God pulled out the cot and stayed all night — just to hold me. Just to comfort me. Just to heal me. That room where tonight He reminded me, He’s just a prayer away — and oh, how I’ve missed the comforting powers He showed me those 2 nights years ago. So tonight, I lay my weepiness, my past, my adoption, my memories at the foot of the cross to trade it for The Great Flood of Love — HIS love.

Thank you Lord, for reminding me of the promise from Isaiah 61: 1-4 — the same one you Promised me in That Room not so long ago.
…He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives
and release from darkness for the prisoners,² to proclaim the year of the LORD’s favor
and the day of vengeance of our God, to comfort all who mourn, ³ and provide for those who grieve in Zion— to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy
instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the LORD for the display of his splendor.