Oh, the Places we go! Oh, the Things we do!

Do you think about all the places you take your kids? Do you think about all the different stimuli you may encounter in that place and how your children might react to it? Don't think that most people do. But, I am often overwhelmed by thinking about all these pieces. Is is going to be loud? Are the lights going to be bright? Will there be stairs? Will there be a lot of people?

I recall a time when O was around 2 and my mom took him and the girls to an ice cream shop. He would not go in. Really, he was in a panic outside the door of the ice cream shop and would not budge. Since I was not there, I cannot accurately describe his apprehension. But, I had definitely seen it before. An unfamiliar place. And, he doesn't like ice cream. Even now, when we go as a family to our favorite frozen yogurt place, we have to sit and eat outside. I also have to make sure I have enough change with me, so that O can throw money into the large fountain while we eat our yogurt. It's what we do. It's how we adapt.

Additionally, there are things that are essential in our household, that may not be important in yours, like ketchup and timers. These are the things that, when we run out of them, or forget them, a mini crisis ensues. Just the other day, O didn't eat his lunch until 4pm, after M was able to get to the store for some ketchup.

Timers...O cannot live without them. Without timers, there is potential for each and every transition in our day to turn into a meltdown. We use timers at bath time, to bring an end to computer or tv time, to signal bedtime or time to leave the house. Using a timer just makes things easier. There's something about being prepared for the transition. The simple act of setting the timer gives O a warning that the activity he loves (e.g. playing) will soon be ending or the task he hates (e.g. hair washing) will soon be coming.

These are some of the things that plague my child with SPD and our family. The world is chaotic and complicated. On a good day, a regulated day, that world can be navigated without incident. But there are those other days. The days that are filled with questions and complaints, even about the most routine things.

However, all of these challenges give us opportunities for growth. There are places we revisit where O's adaptability and increased level of comfort are clearly evident. We recently visited the pumpkin patch, as a family. We decided to go to the same place we had gone last year, which is a true pumpkin patch. In addition to pumpkins, it also has train rides, a forest to explore, narrow trails, a suspension bridge, tunnels, hay bales, and corn stalks.

Both M and I were amazed at how O was able to navigate with ease through these things that had been obstacles for him last year. Although, he still wouldn't attempt the bridge or sit near the hay, I had to make him slow down on the paths and help him as he attempted to lift a huge pumpkin. Revisiting this place led us to a realize how much he has accomplished in the past year. I hope to be writing about our trip to the pumpkin patch next year, with many more successes to share. 

Although this will not be my last post related to sensory processing, especially since it is so much a part of my daily life, it will be the last thing I leave with you during Sensory Awareness Month. I hope that you have learned something about me, about my son, and about sensory processing this month.



O's first experience at a pumpkin patch. The face says it all.
Fall 2009 



O didn't want to take a picture WITH his pumpkin, just OF it.
Obviously, there is still room for growth.
Fall 2012

 

I've Been Robbed

PHOTO:  HUME LAKE WOMEN'S MINISTRY

If you're like me, you have attended dozens of seminars, conferences and retreats, taken notes, and then put those notes in a safe place, never to be seen again. I know that I have heard many excellent speakers, who have imparted a vast amount of knowledge and resources to me, which due limited brain capacity and just too much paper, is now gone. So, after returning home from a weekend retreat, earlier this month, I was determined to break this pattern.

I transferred my notes onto my iPad within days of returning and decided that I would review them, meditate on them, at least weekly, and use them in my writing and conversation. This, I felt, would enable me to not only hold onto the information longer, but also to remind my friends, who attended with me, of the lessons we learned, and to share the information with those who were not a part of the original audience.

So, you may see whole posts dedicated to my reflections from Hume Lake or simply quotes and verses that were meaningful to me. In fact, I have already included some of those quotes and scripture passages in recent posts about sin and faith.

Debbie Alsdorf was the main speaker during the weekend retreat in early October. She was one of those speakers who brought a host of emotions and who led you to do the same. Throughout the weekend, she spoke of peace. Since this is an important topic for me (hence, the title of my blog), I was eager to hear what she had to say.

I was most fascinated by her explanation of those things in life that rob us of peace. She appropriately named them, Peace Stealers. Here is her list, in brief, with my own applications and additional explanations, in parenthesis:

1. Double mindedness (living for God and for *insert your vice here*... James 4:7-8)

2. Unrealistic expectations

3. Complicating simple issues

4. Excessive reasoning

5. Living with a focus on feelings ("The heart is deceitful above all things..." Jeremiah 17)

6. Holding on to anger

7. Jealousy and envy (competitiveness)

8. Negativity

9. Habit of discontentment (Takes at least 21 days to form a new habit. Start now.)

Honestly, when looking at this list, I had a hard time coming up with  the one I struggle with the most. I know I've been guilty of letting all of these things steal my peace. There may even be times when I have fallen victim to all of them at once. After reviewing this list several times, I began to understand why I have so much trouble remaining at peace, why I become so overwhelmed with the pieces of life. 

PHOTO:  PINTEREST LINK 

Which brings me to this. Debbie's most repeated quote of the weekend,

"Problems are inevitable. Living overwhelmed is optional."

Optional. Available but not obligatory. Non-compulsory. Voluntary.

Remember that. I know I'm trying to.

What is stealing your peace? Are you choosing to live overwhelmed?

The R Word

Parent-teacher conferences. I love them. I love talking with my kids' teachers and hearing about all the great things my kids are doing. My girls are both good students, who have a strong sense of responsibility and understand the importance of education.

So, I was expecting nothing less today, parent-teacher conference day. While the report card grades were excellent, there was one issue with A. Not academic. Respect.

I'm so proud of my girls and their achievement, but I would rather have seen a poor grade than an issue with behavior, especially this type of behavior. For me, there is no excuse for disrespect. Limited achievement, difficultly learning, I could handle. I have plenty of strategies for that. But, disrespect. How do I change that?

I will admit, I'm putting more emphasis on it here, than the teacher did at the conference. The exact statement was, "I'd like her to always be respectful." Me too. We've struggled with this at home for awhile now. But, before this year, it was always a home problem, not a school problem.

Although I know it is crazy, I feel like I have failed somewhere as a parent. Did I teach her that she always has to be right? Did I teach her to argue her point ad nauseam, without much regard for the feelings of others? What type of behavior am I modeling?

I don't like to be wrong, especially when I can't hide the error or it's pointed out to me. I know she gets it from me. Unfortunately, it's in her genes.

What will we do about this? I don't know. There will be conversations. I will need to watch my own behavior. There should also be prayer. Not for a perfect child. For wisdom. For love.

Missions at Home

In case you missed it. Here is my guest post, published at She Becomes earlier this week.
Most days I feel if my heart is somewhere else. I used to love my work. It was my passion. My calling. While I still enjoy what I do, the students I serve, and the people I work with, I feel like there is more. My heart longs to bring joy to the lost, to those who don't know the healing power of Jesus Christ, whether it's because they don't know him at all or because they have been separated from him by sin or hurt or simply, life.
Wikipedia defines missionary as "a member of a religious group sent into an area to do evangelism or ministries of service" and "one who is to witness across cultures."
I have never wanted to be a missionary. Many things about that title scared me. Then, after a mission trip to Mexico in high school - which I'm sure had some good points, although I struggle to remember any - I have felt completely certain that foreign missions weren't for me. But, lately I've been thinking more about this word...missionary. I don't completely agree with the definition from Wikipedia. Shouldn't someone who wants to bring God's love to others, not just in a foreign country or across cultures, but to their own cities, neighborhoods and even their own homes be considered a missionary?
Another reason that I never considered a career in missions is that I have always liked being at home. As a child, and even as a teenager, I was reluctant to spend the night at a friend's house or be away from home for long periods of time. So, I couldn't imagine spending any amount of time in a foreign country, adjusting to a different culture, language, lifestyle. I'm still a home body and would prefer to bring people to me than to go to them. Hmmm. Home. I can be a missionary there, right? 
When I first began thinking about this, I was stumped. I wasn't certain what I could do, in addition to the typical mommy, wife stuff, to show God's love to my family. Then, I had a thought. My perception is that I've been doing the "neighbor" thing pretty well lately, or rather, God has been working through me to reach those outside my home. So, how have I been loving my neighbors, my friends, those people I have been called to minister to? 
I started with listening. Listening to God and to people. Really paying attention to what they are saying. What I've found is that, even though people may not specifically state, "I need ____," through conversation, they often speak about their needs, their hurts, their passions. So, I decided my first step in showing more of God's love to my family would be to listen to them. Through listening better and more to my family, I hope to be able to meet their needs, comfort their hurts and feed their passions.

One thing that my daughters are passionate about is jokes. You know, those corny kid jokes, like "How do bees get to school?" "On a school buzzzz." Hehehe. They love those. So, when I saw these free printable jokes on Pinterest, I printed and laminated them immediately. The first day I put them in their lunch boxes, as a surprise, I was barely in the door, at the end of the day, before they were telling me how much they loved the jokes. They have lunch everyday. Sometimes, from home. From now on, there will be a little something extra in there to make them smile.

I want my passion to be people. I'm more convinced now than ever before, that it needs to start at home.

She Becomes

Today, I have the honor of appearing on the blog, She Becomes. Rebecca, the blog's author, is a truly remarkable woman, who is doing great things, with great faith. I have the pleasure of knowing her both personally and professionally. She is an inspiration!

Rebecca visited us last week. Now, take time to visit her. Click the button below to read my guest post at She Becomes...

Before you go, if you haven't voted for me on Top Mommy Blogs in the past 24 hours, please take a moment and do it now. Click the button on the sidebar or the banner below. Thanks!

Tattoos, Underwear, and Sin. Oh My!

I was having a conversation with a friend at church a few Sundays ago. We were talking about her tattoos. (Don't ask how the conversation got there, just know it did). She was expressing her regret about getting the tattoos and about the constant burden she feels to hide them. But, why? Can't she use her past, as a ministry, as way to reach others? She said that acknowledging her tattoos and what they represented about her life before she became a christian, was too difficult, just brought up too many old emotions, old wounds.

"Use your story, your life, your experience, because it is all from [God]" - Debbie Alsdorf

This got me thinking. Why is it that we only want to let our "goodness" out? I mean, why do we want to hide our pasts or our weaknesses from others? Is it because we fear their reaction, their impression of us?

Another friend, who is a teacher, told me this story...One evening she was shopping for underwear. Not just one pair of underwear, but a whole bunch of underwear. You see, her dog had destroyed her other pairs. So there she was, replenishing her entire supply of underwear, when a parent of one of her former students approached her. It's a friendly gesture, saying hi to a teacher, someone who has been influential in your child's life. But, because of the situation - she was, after all, buying a stockpile of underwear - my friend was thoroughly embarrassed.

But, why? We all wear underwear. Yes, there are different styles of underwear, some more embarrassing for public than others. But, it's all just underwear. Isn't the same true for sin? We all have it. And, while there are different types of sin, it's all SIN. Murder or lying, God hates it all. Not just the big ones. So, why are we afraid to show our sin to each other?

For everyone has sinned; we all fall short of God’s glorious standard. 

Romans 3:23

I recently started reading the blog, An Inch of Gray. The woman who writes this blog lost her son in a drowning accident a little over a year ago. In a recent post, she expressed gratitude to her blog community, those that have followed her journey through grief. She also posed questions regarding the necessity for others to share in her grief. She raised concern regarding the fairness of asking others to journey with her, to experience her pain. But, she concluded by writing this, "...there is a real feeling of blessing and relief that comes from being connected to others in grief and pain."

My friend, who lost her husband at the end of July, said to me, when talking with her about going through grief counseling, that she didn't want to simply talk to a counselor, she wanted to talk with someone who had been in her situation. She wanted someone who had lived through it. She was searching for a certain type of connection, for true understanding.

If you have been reading my blog, you know that I have been putting myself on display for all to see. You've seen many of my strengths and many of my weaknesses. It's all there. This has been difficult, but necessary. And, what I've found is that there are other people who are like me. Who struggle with some of the same things. Who feel reassured in knowing that someone else is struggling too.

We are all sinners. We can choose to use our sin or circumstances, past and present, to make connections and share hope, or we can hide them and suffer in silence.

Yet God, with undeserved kindness, declares that we are righteous. 

He did this through Christ Jesus when he freed us from the penalty for our sins. 

Romans 3:24 (NLT)

Share in the pain and regret. Share in the hope.

Awareness, from the Beginning

What do I remember about O's early years? Misery. Heartache. Guilt. I am so grateful for these and other pictures I took during that time, because through them, I am able to see that he and I really did smile. There were good moments. (Warning:  I felt the need to start with these photos, because the rest of this post is going to be difficult).

Unfortunately, when I think about that span of time, before O was 15 months, and before we switched from being in "it's happening to me" mode to "I have something to do about this" mode, I still feel overwhelmed!
It was a dark time for me after O was born. I remember loving him so much, yet wishing that I hadn't decided to have a third child. That still sounds awful. I don't think I uttered those words but a handful of times, and writing them here is difficult, but honest. I was never in such a place that I thought of hurting him or myself, but I did live daily with this duality, of love and regret.

How do you cope with the feeling that what you're doing, that the way you know to take care of your own child, is wrong? It's true that every child is different. Can't treat each of them the same. But, O was so different from the girls. There was so much more crying, an inability to sleep on his own, and discomfort with so many "baby" things (like bathing, changing his diaper, etc).

I had always wanted a son. I will even admit to being a little bit disappointed when both girls were born. A girl, really? I got over the disappointment quickly. But, when I found out I was having a boy, I was beyond thrilled! Not sure why. I just knew it was meant to be.

Maybe that's why it was so hard...when it wasn't going well. When I would spend nights moving from my bed, to the rocking chair, to the couch, to standing, back to bed. Exhausted. Sad. Frustrated. Regretful. Then, of course, guilty. Here was my boy, who I wanted so much, who I couldn't care for, at least that's how it seemed.

Debbie Alsdorf, a Christian writer and speaker for women, said, "Where you are today is where God has you today. You are where [He] wants you to be." I wish I could have heard that in 2008. Although, I probably wouldn't have been ready to listen then.

Why this story? Why now?  It's Sensory Awareness Month. And, although I didn't have a label for it then, it was there. But, I didn't know better, at least at first. Although, I'm not in that place anymore, it is a part of my journey. This is my way of giving back, of spreading awareness. Sharing my story, the whole story, from the beginning.

That Still, Small Voice

The Sovereign LORD has given me his words of wisdom,

so that I know how to comfort the weary.

Morning by morning he wakens me

and opens my understanding to his will. - Isaiah 50:4 (NLT)

Have you ever thought that God was speaking to you? I have felt the nudging of the Lord before, but never as much in the past six months. What has changed? Has He just decided that He is now ready to communicate with me? Honestly, I think He was always ready. It was me who wasn't.

If you've been reading this blog, you have heard the story of the beginning, when I first began following the urgings of Holy Spirit. In April, I began praying more, searching for answers, and really listening to what God was telling me. Since that time, I have attempted to follow Him more closely. Each time I feel Him speaking to me, which usually comes through an inner voice, I have tried to be obedient.

But, how do you know if the words you're hearing are truly from God? I have heard several messages or sermons on this exact question in my lifetime. The overwhelming theme has been...if it aligns with the Bible and biblical principles, then it is probably from God. While, this is a good starting point, I have put together a list of things that have helped me differentiate between my own random, sometimes crazy, thoughts and those that I believe the Holy Spirit has given to me.

Obedience

If you love me, obey my commandments. - John 14:15 (NLT)

If I am being truly honest, I would say that I have had many thoughts about making a phone call, sending an email or message, or giving a word of encouragement to others, but did not often do them. Since I began developing this desire to "do more" I have adopted the Nike motto. Just do it. Instead of holding back and second-guessing, I have decided to put my thoughts into actions. The phrase, "it's the thought that counts," no longer applies to me.

What I have found is that the more I follow this mantra, the more I am used by God. He speaks to me more. Since the urging of this inner voice does not go against what I believe to be right and true, I can only conclude that since I started doing more, God has further entrusted me with even more acts of love.

Blessings

You will experience all these blessings if you obey the LORD your God...

Wherever you go and whatever you do, you will be blessed. Deuteronomy 28:2, 6 (NLT)

Although getting blessings has not been the motivation for my actions, I have developed better friendships, received more compliments, and am feeling more loved by others, since this journey began. My conclusion: To be used by God is to experience the blessings of being loved. Yes, people have and will continue to be persecuted for their faith. Following God's plan is not all sunshine and roses. But, recently, I have been blessed by my choice to be a blessing.

Fellowship

For where two or three gather together as my followers, I am there among them.” - Matthew 18:20 NLT

The term "coincidence" has always puzzled me in relation to my faith. By definition, this means that there are things that happen by chance, by accident. I don't know if that is true. Most recently...

I had been thinking of making changes to my blog. I wanted to change it's appearance, to make it more eye catching, more of an expression of me. Also, I desired to get my message to more people, and thought a fresh design might help with that vision. I hadn't talked to M about it, mainly because I knew I couldn't do a redesign myself, which would mean hiring someone, which would mean spending money. So, I researched it, thought about it some, and prepared how I was going to sell this idea to M. Funny thing is, when I brought it up to him, he had been researching it, too and was trying to figure out how to bring it up to me. This was no coincidence. I believe God was there, putting it all together, orchestrating the whole thing.

Ignore It

Listen to my instruction and be wise. Don’t ignore it. Proverbs 8:33 (NLT)

Okay. Okay. I get the message...don't ignore words from the Lord. Although I have been trying to live a Nike-esque life, there has been one thing that I believe the Holy Spirit is prompting me to do, and I have been ignoring it, for over a month. Ignoring it because I'm scared, because it would be a lot of work, because I don't want to fail, and the list goes on. But, my plan to ignore it is not working. That still, small voice keeps returning. It's clearly God, urging me to trust, to step out, and to stop ignoring Him. I hope that I can, soon.


This list is not exhaustive. I know there are more ways to be led by the Spirit. There are also many more things that I wish God would speak to me about. To provide me with answers. As long as I continue to seek Him, I have to believe that He will. 

I would love to know how God speaks or has spoken to you. Write a comment or send me a message. Also, be watching for a guest post this week from my friend, Becca, and you will see how God is speaking to her.

Halloween, by Comparison

I have never been a big fan of Halloween. Not for any specific reason. It just has never been something I have been particularly interested in. Oh, I remember dressing up as a child. Some years in simple, homemade costumes, other years in more elaborate ones. But, as a parent, I have never been overly enthusiastic about dressing up my kids in crazy, expensive costumes. Most years, I buy something pre-made, that the girls pick out from a catalog, simply because it's easier. I have tried buying costumes so that parts of them can be re-used or re-worn. But, that has never worked.

As you may guess, O does not like costumes. When he was younger, he was frightened by people wearing even the simplest accessory. I remember when we visited his speech therapist near Halloween one year and she was wearing a headband with fuzzy cat ears. Aside from the headband, all other things were normal. Yet, he would not even look at her until she took off those cat ears. Even now, there are times when his sisters are "made up" that he will shy away from them, especially when A wears her green lip gloss. (To be honest, that is rather frightening for everyone!)

Maybe because I sensed that he wouldn't like them or because it was easier for me, I did not attempt costumes for O for his first two Halloweens. 

Skeleton Baby - Fall 2008

Football Player - Fall 2009

By the time he was two, his sensory needs were so evident that I knew he wouldn't wear a costume. Didn't try one that year either.

O in his monster shirt - Fall 2010

It wasn't until last year, that O expressed interest in wearing a costume. He choose Thomas the Tank Engine (of course). The costume came in the mail about two weeks before Halloween. During those two weeks, I helped him become familiar with the costume, how it looked, how it felt, how it fit, etc. On Halloween night, he did wear the costume, for about five minutes, which was long enough for me to get a picture. He did end up wearing the hat for a good portion of the evening.

This year, O picked his costume again. He wants to be a pumpkin. Technically it's a jack-o-lantern, which I figured out by showing him photos of different costumes, but I'm not going to argue with him. To him, it's a pumpkin. This year, his costume will be homemade. I took him with me to get all the materials and am planning to involve him in the process as much as possible. I'm hoping this will help him feel more comfortable with his costume on Halloween.

While the costume, itself, and whether or not he wears it, are not important to me, the fact that he is trying is. His desire to fit in is increasing. He wants to wear a costume because everyone else will be wearing one. I sense that it is important to him to "do Halloween" because his sisters and friends are so excited about it. While this may not be a good reason to do everything, in this situation, peer pressure is providing my son, who experiences the world differently, a chance to be like others.

One of my favorite quotes is by Eleanor Roosevelt. She said, "Comparison is the thief of joy." I have absolutely found this to be true in my own life. However, as usual, when looking at the world from my son's perspective, I see comparison very differently.

I see that there is a time and place for comparison. Comparing ourselves to others can often help push us to do things that we want, but maybe are afraid, to do. As long as we use comparison for motivation and not to devalue ourselves, it can be beneficial. It can motivate us to do more, to be more, if that's what we desire. When we see others do something, we know that it's possible, and we don't feel as afraid. So, I'm grateful that O is making those comparisons. That way, he can push himself to do more than is completely comfortable for him.

I don't know what this Halloween will bring. Whether he wears his costume or not, I don't really care. This is just one more exercise, one more experience that brings him closer to his peers. For O, life is about taking steps, building patterns, and each of these experiences help him develop greater confidence and discover that he CAN do it.

In the Name of Faith

Do you think names are important? What does your name reveal about your character or experiences?

I was recently preparing for a women's retreat and decided to do some research into the names of the women that would be attending in my group. While I'm not sure why these women were given their names - it could have been that they were named after someone in their family or maybe it was their parents' wish or prayer that they would some day live out the meaning - it was interesting to me how many of the women's names seemed to fit their current personalities or character qualities.

I know many stories in the Bible where God changed the name of an individual, so that it more accurately described their character or experience. In the Old Testament, God changed Abram's name to Abraham. While Abram meant "exalted father," Abraham meant "father of many." This name change was significant, as God told Abraham that he would be the "father of many nations," even though he had no descendants at that time.

I was also interested to discover the meaning of my own name. Did you know that Sybil means Prophetess. I think I may have discovered this before, but it didn't have any real meaning for me until now. Although I am not claiming to be making any significant prophecy, I do feel more like an inspired teacher now than I have at any other point in my life.

This subject of names and their meanings also came up in a conversation between E and I recently. She was asking about her name and those of her brother and sister. She was interested in the significance of their names. For all of our children, we chose their first names based on our own preferences and the desire for them to have names that were not too typical, but also not super-crazy or difficult to pronounce. Each of their middle names, however, have meaning to us.

E's middle name comes from the combination of three of her grandparents middle names. O is named after his daddy; his middle name is M's first name. E understood and had heard those stories before, but was wondering why A's middle name is Faith. So, I told her the story. A story that I don't share often. A story I don't think about much, anymore. But was necessary in order to answer E's question.

I told her that before A was born, I had another baby living in my tummy. But, that baby died. She wanted to know if it was a boy or a girl. I told her I didn't know, that the baby had been too little. She just looked at me, her eyes betraying her feelings. I told her that her dad and I were very sad. But, because we loved God and knew that he loved us, we had trusted Him.

Let your roots grow down into him, and let your lives be built on him. 

Then your faith will grow strong in the truth you were taught, 

and you will overflow with thankfulness. -  Colossians 2:7-8

Although I didn't even know there was a baby until the time of my miscarriage, it was devastating. It scared me. I mean, what if I was never meant to have children? Would this be the first of many miscarriages? It made me realize that I wasn't in control. I didn't know God's plan for my life, for my family.

So, when my sister, on the way home from a Christmas Eve service, less than a month before A was born, suggested the name Faith for our girl's middle name, we loved it immediately. After all, she had been conceived in faith. The miscarriage had left us with an abundance of fears and questions. Would God ever allow us to be parents? We had a choice to make. Were we going to make decisions about our future family based on fear or based on faith?

I had a very wise professor once who defined faith this way, "Faith is acting as if what you believe is true." I have held these exact words in my mind for nearly 20 years. Faith is not just belief. Faith is action. Faith is not simply being. It is acting.

My hope, for all my children, not just A...is that they would live, act like, what they've been taught, what they believe, is the truth. To take their thoughts beyond the boundaries of their minds. To move into the truth, so that they can experience God's promises and faithfulness.

This is also my prayer for you, whatever your name.