My beautiful boy

Last night I laid down with John for a bit at bedtime.  When you are such a kinesthetic soul as he is, settling down for sleep can be a challenge.  We are trying a bit of melatonin for a while and it's making a huge difference in dreamland at our house....in a good way.  Anyway, we spent this time talking (as he gets sleepy is one of the best conversation times between us)  with enough dim light from the nightlight that we could clearly see one another's face. 

My boy looked me straight in the eyes and said, "Mom, would you be honest with me about anything I ask?"  With anticipatory flutters in my tummy I answered, ''of course'.  Still looking straight into my eyes, he took a deep breath and asked me...."Mom?  Is Santa real?"  Believe me, I know that 11.5 years is a long time to have a child in today's world believe innocently in something so magical.  I considered lying to my child (it would've been just a little white lie).  I had overwhelming thoughts of what the truth of this matter would mean to him.  I didn't have much time to think, and I remembered I just promised to be honest about anything he asked.  I asked John what he thought.  He told me that answering a question with a question was not being all the way honest.  So, deep breath in...deep breath out and I said, 'no baby, Santa is not real."  He was calm and cool as he asked about the Easter Bunny.  I told him that Easter is real, and there are real bunnies on Easter.  Then, the tooth fairy.  I pictured the wonderful collection of poetry from Ruthie Ruthie, the fairy of all toothies and I wanted to answer him from my heart.  "Honey, Ruthie Ruthie isn't a real fairy but she is your Momma and she meant every word in those poems and your Momma just wants you to have a little magic in your heart because this world can be hard and.......!"  Before I could answer, my boy - his eyes burning straight to my soul asked if I was alright?  Why did I look sad? He sweetly placed his boy turning young man hands on my face and told me he loved me and it would be okay.  He said, "Mom, some kids in my class have not believed in Santa for a long time.  There is a boy in my class who doesn't believe in God either.  But I do believe God is real, I try to convince my friend but he won't believe me."  We had a heart to heart about this and I wanted to freeze frame this moment forever.  John promised not to tell his sister about our Santa talk (although I think she plays along for our benefit) and I told him how fun it would be to have him join in on the pretend fun.

The other day, Nathan said that he would give his Toyota Tundra to John when he got his license.  I thought, that's so far away.  Reality...it's five years down the road.  Ouch.  Time flies. 

It was just yesterday (the kind of yesterday that was 11 and a half years ago) that this child came into our lives and forever changed our trajectory.  Actually, it was more like the second we found out about his existence that things began to change.  Nathan and I were married for a year and a month and we began to plan having a family.  I probably had been planning this since I was five, but now I had a cooperative accomplice.  We went through all of my cardiology appointments to make sure that it was safe for me to carry a child.   I expected all along they would tell me no and we would adopt; we were both okay with that.  When I really had to go through the testing it hit me how badly I wanted to create a  child with my husband and I was somehow surprised by all the tests I had to undergo.  Finally, I got glowing approval from my cardiologist and on the heart end of things, all was supremely well. 

Three weeks after that approval began sudden vomiting, sleepiness and a positive pregnancy test.  I didn't believe it and at a previously scheduled dr appt, they did another test.  It was positive!  Still in my gown, I jumped up and hugged the doctor.  I will never forget the surprise on his face.  I was trying to plan all of these special ways to tell Nathan when he got home but when he called from work, I was so excited I told him!  He thought I was joking b/c surely I wouldn't break this big news on the phone....I sure did and I sure was!

On the pregnancy side, I puked day in and day out for seven out of nine months.  I was quite moody and it was a hard time in our marriage.  All that aside, I would do it a thousand times over to have this child in our lives. 

We attended a Christian childbirth class, the director was Chris Maricle (pronounced Miracle) and that's exactly who she was in our lives.  I was strongly opposed to having an epidural because I am so terrified of needles and because I just wanted to fully experience the birth of my child.  I have always reacted oddly to medications, so being exposed to something new medicinally terrified me.  In this class, I was comforted by knowing childbirth and pregnancy really were natural and beautiful events and I could go for what I wanted but also had to have a strong level of trust with my medical providers and in my God. 

We thought of many names, changed our minds weekly.  Nathan loved Gunther (means warrior).  It took me a while, but I did agree to seriously consider this name.  I didn't fully understand why Nathan was so intent on a big, strong, German name b/c this wasn't fully our heritage and this is not how I pictured my son.  But I was willing to keep it in mind....We called our baby "Bean" from the time we found out about him and Dr. Gibbens said he was about as big as a lima bean.  It made sense, because later we would wrap him like a bean burrito in his blankets.  I'm not sorry for this nickname, but beware of going public with nicknames unless you don't mind everyone calling your baby that name the first two years of their life!  I always thought I'd have a little girl first, but there was not a doubt in my spirit that this child was a little boy.  I dreamt of him often.  His look, his smell, his laughter....

Bean was busy from the time I first felt him move late in my 24th-ish week.  Oh my gosh, what a feeling.  What a tremendous gift.  Nathan would read Dr. Seuss to him and I would play music to him through my belly.  Late in my pregnancy I would push on my swollen belly just so I could watch my Bean move a body part across.  Nathan would get so upset with me, and worried that I would hurt our child.  We would hold flashlights to my belly and delight to Bean's movement.

Around 35 weeks, my sweet child was still in a breech position.  Because I so desperately wanted a natural birth, an inversion was schedule for 38 weeks.  I was told that it would hurt badly, I would be black and blue from the pushing on my belly.  I would go in and get an i.v. incase an emergency c section was needed, an ultrasound would be done and then the inversion would happen.  I had to choose either this or a scheduled c section (or a special physician in New York who would perform natural breech births).  Being given all of this information, my huge fear was the i.v..  My doctor said we could just wait and see but she had rarely seen a baby flip at this stage of pregnancy.  The night before the inversion was scheduled, we went to our birthing class.  They all laid hands on us and prayed for Bean to move in a head down position.  I went home and had the most restful sleep I'd had in months. We went to the hospital in the morning.  I got the i.v..  I was so strangely calm and shocked to find out it wasn't horribly painful.  Dr. Gibbens came in to do the ultrasound and low and behold, Bean had flipped into a head down position. No inversion.  Just to prove his point, he did this twice more before birth, once as my dr. watched in awe on the ultrasound.  I never felt discomfort during his acrobatics.  God was so good to me in this.  It sounds small, but when we went to the hospital for the real event, knowing that the i.v. was no big deal was a BIG DEAL to me.

August 27, 2001 - sometime in the middle of the night - I wake my husband and tell him I think I was having contractions.  I had many previous Braxton Hicks and asked my dr. how I would know when they were real contractions.  She assured me I would know.  I knew.  Nathan told me to go back to sleep and we could do this in the morning.  BAHAHAHAHA!  I probably got a little louder than usual but I got my point across.  Off we went to St. John's hospital, my parents in the car behind us.

Nathan dropped me off at the entry door of the hospital.  He and my parents went to park the cars.  I stood there with my bag breathing in the warm and heavy Oklahoma summer air.  I was giddy with the excitement of meeting our son.  I looked down to see a large packrat sitting  next to the length of my left foot.  I screamed!  We had arrived.

The next hours were some of the hardest and most joy filled moments in my life. We were surrounded with countless friends and family who were there to support us and meet our little guy.  I arrived at the hospital dilated to three, just as I had been for a few weeks.  You know time at the hospital just passes odd...night turns into morning and morning into day before a blink of the eyes. 

I get so wrapped up in the details of the story...the beautiful and the ugly, the mundane and the unique and yet as I look back, this was such a wee part of the whole story.  I got to be a part of creation with God and for that I am forever changed. 

August 28, 2001 - 10:40 somethingish a.m. After going from 3 to 10 centimeters in a little over an hour, my son came bursting into this world.  His energy began at conception, his energy abounds today.  He is a mover and a shaker; he is a thoughtful, passionate, opinionated, affectionate, athletic, inquisitive, intelligent, perceptive, detective who notices all things small and shiny.  He notices the underdog.  He notices hearts.  He loves the dirt, balls, weapons and deep talks if you catch him at the right time.  He wiggles.  A lot.  He is becoming more dramatic by the day.  He likes to make people laugh. He is a negotiator and a persuader.  He is tender and he is tough. He forgets NOTHING.   He can be very shy and slow to warm up, but once he does he is part of your heart forever. He is boy - man - child.  He has sky blue eyes and a contagious, slow smile.  He is a deep thinker and a fun maker.  He challenges me to grow as a person daily.  I love him with the deepest love I know.  I am sure God's love for us in incomparable.  I ache when he aches, I smile when he smiles and I thank God for him every moment of every day.  (even the hard ones)

We did not name him until his third day of life.  We considered Gunther William (William for my Dad).  I refuted that when Nathan called Bean "Gunny" during birth.  We considered Bradley William (Bradley for Nathan's best friend since childhood).  I think we were so tired we considered sticking with Bean.  On day three, the social security lady came in and said we needed a name before we left the hospital.  We were mostly settled on John Bradley (John for my Dad and Poppa, Bradley for our friend).  Nathan suggested we choose John Bradley Gunther Tronnier, that way one day he could be "JB Gunther and associates" if he so desired.  I agreed and thus John Bradley Gunther Tronnier was official!


And there it is....the yesterday that happened 11 and a half years ago.  My son.  My boy.  My love. My delight.

Which way today?

Happy Valentine's morning to you!  Valentine's has always been one of my favorite holidays....not for the commercial reasons at all.  It was even one of my favorites in my young 20's when I acknowledged it by going to dinner with friends, dressed in black to 'mourn' our singleness.  I love hearts and the pink and the sweetness of it all.  Love wasn't put in your heart to stay....love isn't love til' you give it away!

I am about to pull my hair out trying to figure things out this morning.  I am scheduled to go to Dallas this weekend to TA for Empowered Parenting.  I was so excited to go.  Thrilled!   I talked to my boss early on to ask for permission to take tomorrow off.  I got permission and have been working hard to save comp time to use.  One of my most favorite people in the whole wide world is facilitating this weekend's class and that is one HUGE reason I want to go.  She doesn't even know it but she mentors me greatly just through her facebook posts.  Getting to be a part of the team she's on is a privilege, I want to be like her when I grow up!  Then, there are the other volunteers on the team that I am so looking forward to working with.  I have formed strong bonds with some of these people and look forward to building relationships with ones I don't yet know.  Most importantly, I feel so driven about the Pathways training as a whole and am in awe of how God uses us as his hands and feet to change lives through this program.  He even uses little ole' me to do this!  Honored am I!  Since my marriage and our family and our children have had their lives drastically changed for the better because of this I want to continue to give back by volunteering as much and as often as I can.  This particular training, (Empowered Parenting) combines Love and Logic (which I have loved since before I was a Momma) with a bit of the Pathways training.  For me personally it helped me understand the reasons for some of my parenting styles and has helped Nathan and I truly parent on the same page and our relationship with each other and with our children continues to grow significantly. 

Being a parent is HARD WORK.  Marriage is HARD WORK.  Personally, I am thankful for all the help I can get.  There is no book on every child, and there is no method that works 100% for every individual.  However, having a blue print of sorts, combined most certainly with God's guidance and a tremendous love for one another sure encourages us along the way.  To get to be a small part of helping people build stronger families and better futures for their children is my passion, of course I am happy to be involved in this training!

Anyway...off track.  I WAS so excited to go.  Then life gets in the way and I find myself in the shower this morning singing "I surrender all" softly as I ask God for guidance.  At this point in life, I believe that God meets me where I am and that he is wherever I am - despite if I have made the 'right' or 'wrong' choice.  My fear of him punishing me for making the wrong move...as if I were a chess piece to be manipulated on the board...is no longer there.  Wanting to make the best choice for me and for those around me is still there.

The person I was originally to ride with (whom I feel totally safe and comfortable with) is no longer able to go.  The people I am to ride with....one is sick, one is just getting over a stomach bug and they are leaving later than I am accustomed to.  (I love to have non rushed time to shower and get ready and look lovely).  The 'what if'' are having a little too much say in my head right now.  What if we are late?  What if I have to run in at the last minute looking disheveled and worse, feeling out of control?  What if traffic is bad and we arrive late?  What if someone gets sick in the car or their driving is terrible or........

Then there is my Mom....I haven't even told her yet that I am going.  (I will hopefully speak to her this morning before she she's this blog!)  I feel she is under a great amount of stress.  My Granny is not well right now.  My sweet Daddy has new and different needs to be met and my Mom needs more help than I have been giving her lately.  For this I feel guilty and wish I could do more.  I guess being a 40 year old woman doesn't mean I still don't want my Momma's earnest approval and understanding.

Then there are my Nathan, John and Stella and there is my stuffy cold and annoying post nasal drip.  Oh yes...and the dogs need a bath.

What am I to do?  Pray for clarity and confidence for me, please.  And have a super duper, excellent, full of love and joy Valentine's day!

wake up

Good morning!

I woke up in a bit of a stupor from a really deep dream...one that inspired me to write.  I need to keep a notebook by my bedside and jot these ideas down while I'm still in my dream state because 10 minutes after waking I'm already fuzzy on the deep thoughts I had to share.

I stopped by Target last night on the way home from work for a few 'essentials'.  The cashier was a young man that looked and felt familiar but I wasn't sure why. He was tall and thin with a largish head and beautiful big brown eyes that were set wide apart.   He spoke loudly, commenting often to customers on their products, "you have (fill in the blank), you know what that means!"  Then he would proceed to tell them just what that meant.  The people in front of me were a (very clearly uncomfortable) fiftiesh looking man and his teenaged daughter.  The cashier pointed out that BEER was an item amongst the man's shopping selections.  "What?", asked the man in an undoubtedly irritated tone.  "BEER", said the cashier, "BEER, right in front of you...you know what that means?" The man did not answer, his face reddened.  The assumed by me to be daughter seemed to be holding in a giggle with a sweet smile...probably sensing her Daddy's discomfort.  (This is the part where you have to close your eyes and make sure you are picturing this scene so you can experience it with me).  The cashier answered his own question...'it means you could be an AL-CE-HOLIC!"  LOL! 

(If you haven't yet gathered it, the precious cashier was special needs.  I don't know his diagnosis and I wished the customer in front of me wasn't so uncomfortable.  It was that kind of discomfort that made me want to help him understand the beauty and humor in the cashier's childlike innocence - I wanted him to see the role this person played in our world and I wanted him to replace his discomfort with love and respect.)

Zoom ahead to my turn in line....I'm still trying to figure out why this gentleman was so familiar to me.  As soon as I got in line he asked me if I knew what today was.  I meandered...it's Monday, it's Valentine's week, it's the Chinese New Year....."Yep", he said..."guess what else?"  "It's my birthday!"  He then sang proudly the Happy Birthday song.  We conversed and I found out he turned 38 years old yesterday.  Then it hit me why he was familiar.  I asked him if he went to Jenks. "YES!"  This cashier just happened to be a boy that I rode bikes with as a child.  He lived next door to some dear friends I grew up with.  Everyone at Jenks knew him.  He had a lovely sister inbetween mine and Nathan's classes and he was from a family who always supported, loved, nurtured and believed in him.  And I very specifically remember his joy, his smile, his innocence....all the things that made me recognize him today.  He didn't remember me but I got to wish him a Happy Birthday and tell the customer behind me that it was his birthday.  At that point, I even got to introduce him.  And that my friends MADE MY DAY!

So many things (little and big) have cemented for me the significance of the job I have taken at Sooner Start.  People are people.  Normal is a setting on a dryer.  Wake up!  Open your eyes and your heart.  Be kind, there are most certainly angels in our presence.

God bless.

Sarah

It's not always what I imagined....

Oh man!  I think if there was nothing else pressing to do I could sit and write for 48 hours straight and still not have cleared my heart and mind of all I'd like to share.

Tonight I wrote a long lost friend.  She and I were like sisters and had a 'falling out' in our early twenties.  You know the saddest part?  I can't even remember why.  I remember the emotions surrounding the time but have no vivid memories of details.  I'm betting whatever it was it was stupid.  (great linguistics, eh?)  She has written me a couple of times and I have not responded until now.  Like I told her, I was waiting for the 'right' words to say....me who has a deviated filter anyway was waiting for 'right' words.  So disappointed in myself and praying for healing in this relationship.

I think something that prompted me to do this (Ahem...Holy Spirit) is that I've been thinking about the friendships I have lost and gained the last couple of years.  Some losses have been happened organically...the season was over.  I've realized it's not always healthy to have all 'friends' in my life and it's okay to 'separate'.  Others I have lost relationship with due to overblown circumstances, pride on either side or plain ole' being dumb and I still have a hole in my heart.  The thing I have been most deeply hurt by are the 'friends' who have not considered me significant enough to even talk things through with me...they've just dropped me like a hot potato.  (dramatic but that's an accurate description of my feelings).  I have processed and processed, examined my part in the demise, asked myself what could've been different and what will be healthier in future relationships and forgiven.  Here's the thing though...I am going to make every effort to not contribute to causing another human being to feel insignificant.  I am going to attempt to let every one in my path know why they are valuable to me (even when I am earnestly seeking that value).  I am going to LOVE my neighbor as myself...so if I'm loving myself well I will also pray for discernment, wisdom and trust.  I'm thinking, in not answering my old friend b/c I was waiting for the 'right' words, how significant did she feel?  And if I need to say goodbye to a friend (in love), I will pray for my God to give me what I need to do so and I believe he will.

Relationships are complicated.  But how sad life would be without them.

On another note, I've been feeling abundantly blessed lately.  Being around many children these past few weeks I realize how much I take my children's health for granted at times and how very WELL and beloved our children (challenging as they may be) are.  I had a moment of sadness while playing with a little toeheaded  3 year old boy with sparkly blue eyes.  He was BUSY BUSY BUSY and reminded me so much of John.  I was taken back in time and found myself wishing I had enjoyed those moments more (you know, the ones everyone told me would go so fast).  I wish I had written more details down because although I just knew I'd remember everything - I don't.  I wished I wasn't such an uptight basketcase who was so concerned about what others thought of our parenting and my son's passionate emotional displays.

Then, holding a precious 1 month old girl I thought of my Stella being a baby.  A very sad thing to me is that my stroke stole many sporadic memories and the first few months of Stella's life are very muddled.  I hate that.  It makes me cry.  So...I look at pictures and remember the things I can remember...there is still great joy. 

Both of these little people bring me many gifts every day.  My encouragement to you....treasure the moments.  They really do zip on by. Life isn't always what I imagined but living life is always, always, always a gift.

God bless.

sarah

What's holding you back?

So unsettled today, yet still feeling peaceful overall.  Not sure how that's possible but I'm going to take it as is.  Maybe my unsettled is just what I need to set myself in motion and move forward.  A huge thing I must do today is pay bills.  One would think that this would'vebeen my priority but I believe if I make me a priority and write first I will do the 'necessities' with a clearer head and more focused heart.  I had a billion things to write about and as I sit here I am having trouble narrowing down exactly what it is that I need to say.  In the fashion of the trust and surrender I so desperately seek, I'm asking God for a little calm and direction and we'll see what comes.

Alright then.  BREATHE.  BREATHE. IN. GOD'S. PRESENCE. BREATHE. 

I love my new job, LOVE it!  Love my boss, love my desk mate and my new and old friends there, love that I get to serve, minister and be ministered to.  I love that I get to meet many angels unaware and share joy and sorrows with others....and I LOVE the Keurig.  I can't believe I've only been there for a month because I feel incredibly comfortable in it (not cocky, comfortable).  I feel so excited for upcoming trainings and for meeting new people and for connecting with the hearts at my workplace as well as the families I am building relationships with.  I feel a purpose there and it's a really good feeling.  I struggled with going back to work full time.  I believed that if I stayed 'safe' in my little world and was in control of as much as I could control, I would be guaranteed health and calm.  Did I really and truly believe that?  Probably not.  But hey...we all like a little illusion of control now and then, right?

I am trying hard to be self disciplined and find balance.  Laying out clothes for the week on Sundays, planning meals, taking family time and me time....this is my challenge.    In addition, making sure I am staying connected with my Nathan, our Stella and John, my Mom and Dad and my sisters, my brother, my nieces, my nephews, my friends......yadayadayada.  And I was doing so well at eating well and guess what happened.  Somewhere around last week my self control got lost in the blink of an eye and boom, here I am again!  (Here I am mad at me for choices made and determined to not let those choices determine my new moments...determined but not so confident)

Which brings me to something I read this week that pinged my heart in such a big way I knew I'd be sharing about it soon.  Here it is..."It's not who you think you are that holds you back, it's who you think you are not."  It immediately brought to light the ways I am still living 'two faced' and not completely in God's light.  For every thought I have of who I am, I have a contradictory who I am not (and usually a why that goes with it.)

The Truth...I am wise, I AM constantly learning and constantly teaching.  I am valuable and significant. 
The Lie... If I share my wisdom or knowledge I run the risk of seeming know it all-ish.  I often do not consider my  thoughts valuable enough to share.  I AM NOT worthy nor significant.

The Truth...Life is erratic.  Life is beautiful and joyful and also sad at times.  I AM healthy and capable of taking care of myself.  With God, we will make beauty out of ashes.
The Lie...I AM NOT meant to be fit..  I can stay cocooned and guarantee my health and security.  The world does not need me and I'm so stressed I can't be expected to consistently make good choices.  I am NOT meant to be a 'fit' looking person nor a physically healthy person.

The Truth...I AM capable of creating and sticking to a family budget to help us realize our family dreams and life plans.
The Lie...Credit cards (enough said), wants are the same as needs, planning takes too much time and it will all work out (on it's own)  I AM NOT ever going to be wealthy, so why make money a priority?

You see?  The list goes on for days.  Starting now, in this moment, I am going to begin to retrain my brain and heart to be who God made me to be. 

I AM a brave, worthy, loved by God, truly happy, whimsical, whole and surrendered woman basking in the warmth of God's sunshine.  This is me, at my core.  This is who God made me to be.  I will remember to live as I believe I AM and not as I am not.  I will live in the belief hat He has made me to be a new creation in him and I will soak that in.  Who are you and who are you not?  What is holding you back and what can you do different?

Whew!  Now I can go pay those stinkin' bills.....

Be blessed!

What it is.....

I had visions of peacefully writing....fresh warm cup of coffee with a little cream, brown sugar and cinnamon; snow falling gently from the sky and a very clean and remodeled home.  Well....here I sit strengthening my 'flexibility' muscles. 

My sweet 97 year old Granny is in the hospital for something fluish and miserable.  My seventy something Momma is taking her turn sitting with her and my children and I are taking a turn spending time with my seventy something Dad at our family home.  My coffee is in a stryofoam cup left over from a wonderful breakfast with a beautiful friend this morning and what's left of it is rather cold.  I'll probably drink it anyway.  My 11 year old son sits across from me seriously invested in a game on my smartphone, my 7 year old daughter is in the other room making melodies of her own on the keyboard.  My hardworking hubby is at home sanding and preparing to stain new wood floors.  I am doing laundry a little laundry for my parents and the washer continues to beep and stop cycling until I go push pause and start again.  This is really testing my elasticity!  I guess I should be proud...things are insanely out of my control and the thing that irritates me most is an uncooperative machine.

A new year is about to begin and I am intensely aware of the changes coming with us.  As a matter of fact, the older I get the more life seems to be a flux of constant change.  Viewing it as an adventure and leaning into the adventure (even and especially when it's hard) is something I've had the opportunity to begin to learn these past couple of years....so while I am afraid and apprehensive I am also greeting the changes with open (mostly) arms.

I will begin working as a Resource Coordinator for Sooner Start this week.  I honestly cannot say it is my deepest desire to return to work full time - I am perfectly happy being home full time.  I can honestly say that if I need to go to work full time (and yes, I NEED to do this), the way this job 'came to me' is a total God thing (I know some of my dear friends would call it coincidences or acts of the universe, I believe God has his hand on me and in this situation particularly and that there are no accidents) and I am (cautiously) very excited to begin this journey.

Background...

When our family was at Disney World, I observed many families with special needs children.  I am of the mind that all children are 'special needs' and being a parent is a tough job. I've spent lots of time observing how very lacking our society is in fulfilling parental needs on many counts.  Having a hand in helping families strengthen and be able to help their children to the best of their abilities is a passion of my heart. 

Knowing that I would need to seek employment, on the flight back from Florida, Nathan and I discussed options.  I shared that I was feeling very drawn toward working with special needs kiddos and their families.  I have been substitute para-ing and have greatly enjoyed it but it's not where I feel I will have the strongest impact.  If I am to find a career outside of home, I want to feel as if I am spending that time fulfilling a purpose and passion of my heart.

The irony of this...when I graduated college in 1995, I stated with confidence to a professor that I would NEVER work with special needs kids.  It was not because I didn't love them.  The opposite was true...it's because I loved them so deeply that I believed I would not be effective working with them in any capacity because I would feel sorry for them.  I have learned that 'love' looks very different than what I thought at that time.

Over the past few years I have established deep rooted friendships with families who are privileged enough to have a 'special needs' child.  I have met them through church, work, Pathways, friends of friends and so forth.  I say privileged because they have taught me incredible lessons about loving someone where they are at and trusting that God meets us every step of the way; and mostly about reinforcing my conviction that our biggest blessings often come disguised as hardships.  They have learned these lessons through parenting their special needs gifts and countless people have been touched by their example of living.

Go back in time (I don't wanna!) to that 'big ole stroke'.  Looking back, if the therapists had not cared enough to get me motivated to learn to dress myself again so I could get up and have that utility belt strapped around my waist only to be led through hospital halls; I very well may not be walking as I do today.  If therapists had not cared enough to put boxing gloves on my right hand so I was forced to use my left side (which had been injured in the stroke), would I have developed the dexterity to hold a book and read or to cook a meal for people I love?  If the doctors had not played that stupid little game where they made me follow their finger with my eyes and touch my finger to my nose...would I have regained that focal strength I now have (not perfected but greatly improved)?  From this I learned...compassion = awesomeness and pity = stagnation.  Having my own special needs greatly increased my desire to help others with special needs. 

As I stated earlier, I have been substitute para-ing for special needs kiddos.  What an amazing and exhausting experience!  One little boy in particular I got to spend two weeks with right before Sooner Start called me really grabbed my heart.  He had no words, but he had a smile that could light up the world and a contagious laugh that I would go great lengths to hear.  He had eyes that sparkled with wonder and my time with him was full of life lessons.  Words are not always necessary to communicate on a heart level.  I watched his mother in awe (she has two other 'typical' children) as she advocated for her child in the school system.  A tough job!  This was the final cement I needed to know I wanted to be a part of something that involved special needs children and their families.

Fast forward to home from Florida....

I posted on facebook that I needed a job...who had ideas?  An old acquaintance emailed me and told me of the position at Sooner Start as a resource coordinator working with families of special needs children. This was no more than 12 hours after my conversation with Nathan.  She and I chatted a bit about it and she gave me the number of the supervisor.  When I did get to talk to the supervisor she asked me to get in a resume and application that night as they were winding down on interviews.

No matter what I or Nathan did, my application and quickly created resume would not send.  Nathan can fix anything on the computer and when he couldn't, I was in despair.  I did not want the supervisor to think I didn't care.  I also didn't think she would appreciate a call from me at nearly midnight.  I waited until 7:30 the next morning to text her and let her know what happened.  She asked if I could come fill this out in person before 9 a.m.  YES!  I don't believe it was accidental that I had to physically go to the office and meet the supervisor.  There I was pleasantly surprised to see that two of my favorite past co workers were also employed at Sooner Start.  I was so very hopeful, and as I walked out the door I believed I was walking out the door of my future employer.

I was called for an interview.  I met with a supervisor and her supervisor.  It's been a LONG time since I have interviewed.  I made a conscious effort to not act prim and proper but to share my heart and trust God in this process.  It was good!  They let me know it would be a while before I heard anything as this was a state agency and things took a while.  My friends who work there shared that their hiring process were two and four months long.  That was in October.  I emailed once in a while (hoping not to bother) to get an update which was always answered kindly and quickly...but still not a final answer.  I still 'felt' this job was mine but tried to talk myself out of any possible 'magical' thinking while still staying positive and hopeful.  And I tried, I tried so hard to utilize patience and trust trust trust.

The Friday before Christmas break was a rough sort of day.  I was headed out to get a flu shot when a man jumped off a bridge in front of me and ended his life.  I felt some weird sort of bond with the man whose truck he jumped onto and the other witness and feel I will see them again in life.  But the event was tragic in every way... that's a whole nuther' story to write but you can see the day started off difficult to say the least.  Next, I went to my Dad's dr appointment with my Mom, Dad and sister.  I tell these things to emphasize that I longed for some happiness in the day.  When HR called to offer me this job, I was thrilled and I'm pretty sure I EEEKKKKEEEDDD! in the lady's ear.  A God kiss for me. 

I am sure I left out a detail or two but isn't it funny how things work?  Life events that lead us from one end of the spectrum to another...that change our perspective 180 degrees?  I am eagerly anticipating what lies ahead and deeply grateful for what is now.


"And now let us believe in a long year that is given to us, new, untouched, full of things that have never been."  -Rainer Maria Wilke

Justifiable? Faith

I was challenged a great deal last week by some dear friends.  My dear friends are self proclaimed atheists, extreme intellects, well educated as well as compassionate, loving beings..  I am a self proclaimed Christian, a lover and follower of Jesus Christ, intelligent and educated as well as a compassionate, loving being.  I believe that despite our great differences, we have more in common than seen at first glance and I believe we have much to learn from one another so it would be tragic to stop at first glance. 

Our facebook conversation was interesting...many varying opinions given, thought provoking discussions with some heated emotions thrown in.  This is what is to be expected when two opposite sides of the coin are attempting to get the other to see their side.  So...before and while engaging in this conversation, it was my hope and prayer to live out the love in my heart.  I wanted to find value in what the 'other side' said and at the same time keep in tune with my own values and heart...I wanted to live out what it means to me to be Christlike. And certainly, I hoped they would find value in my views but I do understand the outcome is not up to me...I can only live as I know to live.

 One thing written by someone was, "I like your Christ but I don't like your Christians."  I certainly understood that.  Loud and clear. As I understand, my friends would like me to defend my faith as Paul would have me defend it.  While I am very much a thinker and a feeler, I probably am not as geared toward feeling the need to defend my side.  Plain truth, I don't know how to define something I feel in my heart as sure as I see the sunlight bouncing off my eyes in the morning to someone who is insistent on hearing the 'defense' or the intellectual side of things. To me, it is a matter of the heart and to intellectualize it places my faith, my God and myself in somebody's box of who I am..  My faith has and continues to be a journey for me.  I have been through some hard times with God and have deliberately chosen the path of Christianity....I could write a thousand pages on that but I'm going to try to sum it up so that both the feelers and the intellects can understand my own faith. 

I was raised with a half Catholic family and a half Protestant family.  My Dad's side Catholic and my Mom's side Protestant.  My Mom took me to church on occasion, my Dad never went unless there was a wedding or funeral so usually my Grandparents took me.

My Grandma took me to her Catholic church on Saturday mornings.  Sometimes my sisters on my Dad's side would go, usually it was just us.  My Papa never, ever went.  At that point, I think he didn't at all believe in God.  Anyway...she would take me to a little chapel at St. John's hospital sometimes and we'd go eat in the coffee shop afterward.  I remember loving the smell of incense burning and being fascinated by the ritualism and tradition of Catholicism.  However, it often felt very robotic to me.  Kneel....pray....repeat after the Father (who by the way was dressed in the same outfit each week and I thought it was kind of creepy...kids view) The sound of singing of the priest followed by the congregation was almost haunting to me. I didn't really like the priest at my Grandmas church, though he did stop once to purchase the wildflowers I had picked and was selling by the side of the road.  He then told my Grandma on me because he was concerned for my safety and I never sold wildflowers by the road again.  I recall going to light candles in a small room at church for people who were sick or who had died.  My Grandma taught me to say The Lords Prayer, which I still love.  She said many prayers with her rosary beads at night, Hail Mary Mother of Grace is the one that lingers in my memory....My Grandma's God was a punishing God.  He was watching my every move and whenever I was not a 'good girl' I knew there was a high possibility of my getting a trip to Hell.  He was scary and I'm not sure anyone could ever live up to this God's standards.  My Grandma wasn't so focused on the Bible...except her huge white Catholic Bible that was always open on her coffee table.  I can still feel it's pages, I used to love to flip through and read portions of it...I found them comforting.  In addition, my Grandma would put dried up flowers she'd been given along with a note of who gave it, why and when in Ziploc bags.  Those could be found amongst the pages.  My Grandma was very focused on serving in the church.  I often went with her to prepare communion.  I always loved doing this.  She was kind during those times and I felt proud and so important.  She always brought meals to families in need; that is a gift she passed onto me.  My Grandma was highly superstitious and made sure I behaved as a good girl should....always.  And that if I did not I knew how disappointed God would be in me.

Then there were my Granny and Granddaddy.  My Mom would usually drop me off at church with them and this I loved.  This was Jenks Church of Christ on Main Street.  There were lots of hugs for me from nurturing, motherly women, grandfatherly men with beautiful tenor voices and fun Sunday School classes.  I remember that sometimes my big brothers and sisters would do the puppets for those classes.  I LOVED it.  I loved it until that devil puppet with the horns scared the bajeebies out of me and I ran out.  Thankfully, my Momma was there and I know she tried to calm me but I don't think I went back to Sunday school for a good bit.  This church felt like home to me.  They frequently had pot lucks after church.  It smelled like church.  It smelled like comfort.  I loved the safe feeling here so much that I didn't care about the rules, I didn't care that no instruments were allowed, I only knew I felt God here.  I felt loved here and I loved it back.  This is maybe where I realized there was a different kind of God and he was a pretty loving guy.  After church, if there was not a potluck, my Granny and Grandaddy would take me to Arby's.  I would get the same every time...a ham and cheese sandwich, potato cakes and a small jamocha shake.  Lots of horsey and arby sauce.  My Granny would cut the sandwich into four perfect pieces.  Again, for just a while longer I felt so safe.  (I see some of my comfort with food patterns emerging...that's a different story). The best was when my Grandaddy would later take me to feed ducks and swans on Riverside Drive.  I didn't go often to their home...when I did I remember my Grandaddy softly scolding me for doing somersaults in the living room - he was scared I'd bump my head on the coffee table.  I loved him so very much.  I think I tied the gentleness and love of my Grandaddy in with the God they taught me about.  My Granny continues to live that love at 98 years of age.   The problems were that I knew when I went to this church my Grandma was going to act some kind of angry the next several days because she did was horribly jealous of me having a relationship with the 'other grandparents'.  I missed out on a lot because of my fear of her anger.  So...lots of confusion for a young kid.

So you see....already I knew two different Gods.  There was the one who was going to get me for any minor wrongdoing and the one who loved me just because.  Earned grace vs. redeeming grace

Wow!  This is longer than I thought.  Lots to process. My Momma started taking me to church again after my brother Brent died.  I was close to 16.  The church was lovely and I knew my Mom had great friends there.  Being the shy, guilt ridden person I was (my Grandma did not like me going to church with my Mom either - I think she had aspirations of my being a good Catholic girl one day) - I had a difficult time making friends at church.  I was probably awkward and a bit reclusive and I know I was a late bloomer.  I liked the conversations, I liked the youth group, I just didn't 'belong'.  So...I spent much of my time volunteering in the church nursery and gaining babysitting jobs from the parents I met.  I had a much easier time engaging with adults than youth because in hindsight, I'd been a grown up for a very long time.  At this time, I also attended a private Christian school.  It was there that I 'accepted Christ' into my heart.  At fourteen, I had no idea what this meant but it felt right and my friends did it....so.....

My best friends throughout school were Charismatic, Pentecostal, Jewish and Muslim.  My Mother trusted God enough to let me explore.  I learned about being slain by the spirit, speaking in tongues, Passover, Bat and Bar mitzvah; men and women praying to Mecca in separate directions all in a matter of a few years.  I watched many different examples of faith.  In college I explored astrology, new age mysticism, out of body experiences and levitation, etc.  I searched high and low for the God I so desperately wanted to know.  In my heart, I knew all along that my path was Jesus, but I was deeply angry with him.  (I would've never acknowledged that...no good Christian girl would).

Add in more life experiences. I cried out to God countless times during my teen years for him to take my life.  He did not.  As a matter of fact, although I would not acknowledge Him, it is only He that gave me life in the midst of those horrid years.  When my brother Brent died, my parents were so out of reach for a while.  I was alone again...just like with my Grandma.  I felt the same peace I did previously while begging to die and although I didn't name that peace as God, I knew I had a saving grace somewhere, somehow.

I got baptized at 32 (my Momma could not believe her youngest had slidden by without being baptized as a child).  I did this because the spirit was moving in my heart and life.  I read everything I could get my hands on regarding baptism, I prayed and I knew in the depths of me this is what I wanted.  When I heard our pastor, Tracy say that this represented forgiveness for all sins of all time and I spoke my desire to follow Christ, I was overcome with relief and tears.  I have never looked back.  I have however struggled tremendously to change my view of God as my persecutor and know that he is indeed my savior.

 When I met my husband, he wanted to be a youth minister.  This is a dream come true for such a 'good girl'. Over the years he decided to hate God, he decided he was an atheist.  This wounded me but my precious husband was so deeply wounded my a church and it's members.  Deeply. Once I realized this was not my battle to fight, or to make right and I handed him back over to God...things began to change.  (It only took me 14 years to get it).  When I dealt with crippling panic and anxiety I thought I wasn't good enough, faithful enough, something was missing for God to let me suffer like this.  Then I had that stroke and boy was I pissed.  Tired of being God's little chess piece to move as he pleased I resigned myself to the fact that if he was out to get me I'd at least be a thankful martyr....I mean really, he only puts the strong through this crap, right?

I didn't even know these were my ingrained views until I went to Step Beyond.   When I decided that I am a 'whole and surrendered woman basking in the warmth of God's love' and decided once and for all that this is MY TRUTH - my life turned around.  I make choices daily to surrender. Knowing that this doesn't mean I hand myself over so God can punish me and use me as he pleases.  It means that I can surrender this life to my heavenly father and crawl up in his lap for a snuggle. 

One thing I feel I must address to my precious friends and to anyone who has been deeply hurt at church....church is made up of people. People are not God.  People (even well intended) hurt people.  People at church are some of the most imperfect ever and thankfully God has grace enough to cover us all.  I wonder what it costs someone to shut off all experiences that cannot be explained.  It is in things unexplained that I find great beauty.  My friend assumes I believe (as a Christian) that he is going to Hell.  I believe we can be in a Hell of our own making all through life.  I believe God is loving and trust that he works through this in the hearts of people who do not see and feel him.  I believe God is there but he is not pushy and will stay right outside your walls until you invite him in. I believe his grace is sufficient and I believe I am not in a position to judge things I cannot comprehend.  i.e.  I believe God loves the madman who killed these innocent children on Friday as much as he loves the children.  I believe evil and mental illness permeate out society.  I believe people make choices and the outcomes are between they and God.  I cannot fairly fathom this...I do not choose faith as an easy crutch.  In these circumstances, faith is far more difficult for me to choose because judgement and hatred are way more comfortable.

So see....if it's intellect one is searching for, I cannot give you a justifiable intellect.  If you want my heart, there it is.  From deep in my belly to the ocean of my soul - I know my Jesus loves me and I know I love him.  I don't know this because someone quoted me a scripture (though I do love my Bible), I know this because I have been loved.  Can you see love? You can see it in action, but can you 'see' love?  Can you touch love?  Probably not. Can love touch you?  I hope so.  Same for me and my faith.  Can I see it?  I can see it in action.  Can I touch it?  nope.  Does faith touch me?  absolutely.  That's all I have and that is more than enough for me.



So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen.  For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.  2 Corinthians 4:18