The Retreat

This past weekend I spoke at a woman's retreat in Bedford Springs, Pennsylvania.  We were at a spa resort which boasts eight natural springs purported to have healing qualities.   It was wonderful.  It reminded me why I so enjoy going to retreats.

As women, we spend a lot of time making sure we have on our armor and our masks.  We want to protect ourselves from hurt and present a 'put together woman' to the world.  Then we go to a retreat.  It's a time for each woman to step out of her life and take a breath. It's a time where we can lower the armor and the mask and be who we really are.  We get to practice vulnerability.

I'm always amazed at how worshipping, learning, and laughing together can allow women the freedom to share more freely what's really going on in their hearts and minds.  We all start out as 'fine' and sooner or later are willing to talk about those things with which we are struggling.  And as we lower our protective gear and share our hearts, others can come in to encourage and love us.  It's a beautiful thing to see!  Women listening to one another, crying with one another, celebrating with one another, praying with one another.  It's seeing God's love in action.  It's magnificent! 

The key for me is to keep practicing vulnerability after the retreat ends.  Satan is quick to whisper that I have taken off the mask and someone might see the real me.  His lies say that who I am is not good enough and the mask must be put back on.  This is where I must turn my focus on God and His truth.  I am good enough and valuable because I am His.  God reminds me that with my mask and armor on, I'm not able to receive the encouragement, love, and grace I need.  So I keep the mask off.  It can be scary.  Sometimes others don't like what they see.  But mostly, others are just relieved because they too are choosing to live without the mask.  What freedom! 

Someone Like Me

"You don't want someone like me."  My heart broke as he said those words because I knew that he truly believed them.

My kids and I had been walking down the streets inviting people to come to a Thanksgiving feast we were helping with when we met him.  He was surprised to see us and asked what we were doing there.  We told him and invited him to join the festivities.  He asked if we were from a church as he tried to hide his recently purchased beer and cigarettes in his jacket.  We told him yes, and invited him again to join us.  That's when he said those words that I couldn't get out of my head,  "You don't want someone like me." 

Someone like me....Someone who doesn't have it all together.  Someone who struggles with addiction.  Someone who struggles with negative self talk.  Someone who struggles with anger.  Someone who struggles with grief and sorrow.  Someone who has made a mess of things.  Someone who doesn't have anything to offer...  I have been that someone.  That someone I was sure no one wanted or would ever want.  And yet, that's exactly who Jesus came for.  He came for the lost and the broken, the sick and the lame, the hurt and the broken hearted, the "someones" of this world.  He came for me, and for you, and for him.....

 I saw tears in his eyes as I told him he was exactly who we wanted and that I'd be disappointed if he didn't come; I would miss him.  He hugged me tightly and said he would.  I wasn't sure, but I hoped.

He did come.  It was wonderful to talk to him and get to know him. He even used my cell phone to call others to come!  And he was one of the last leave. 

I'm not sure he fully comprehends how deeply God loves him as he is now; broken, addicted, and messy. And I understand; that's a big love to grasp.  My prayer and hope for him and for all of us "someones" is that we "grasp just how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and [that we] know (through experience) this love..." because there's nothing like knowing you are exactly who God wants (Ephesians 3:18-19). 

Sifting for Treasure

A few months ago, a family down the street had a devastating house fire.  It was an electrical fire that began in the beginning of the night.  By the time the couple was awakened by the smoke, the room next to them was engulfed in flames.  The fire quickly spread and destroyed the house.  Thankfully, they were able to escape.  Unfortunately their seven animals did not.  The home owner was very emotional as she recounted her experience and the guilt of not being able to save her beloved pets.  She said that she and her husband would rebuild the house, but it would never be the same.

Last week this couple began the process of tearing down what remained of the house.  They watched as the bulldozer lifted the rubble to the dumpster. Then they sifted through the ashes to find anything to salvage.  As I watched them, I thought about how I, too, have sifted through the ashes of devastating events looking for hidden treasures.   Looking for purpose and meaning.  Why has this happened?  What am I supposed to learn from this experience?  What is God trying to teach me?  How can I mature and grow from this?  How can I move on?   I want to know that difficult and devastating events aren't just to torture me or break me.  So I sift.  I search.

I must admit, I don't always find satisfactory answers to my questions.  There are some events that I still question.  But thankfully, God is faithful.  He brings beauty from my ashes.  He gives me opportunities to minister to others who are facing similar difficulties.  He shows me aspects of who He is in powerful, tangible ways to bring me closer to Him.  He reminds me of important truths.  He brings healing to those painful wounds.  And He helps me rebuild using those precious treasures found in the ashes....

My Rainbow Calendar

We have been in the same small city for three years now, yet my kids have not really found their places of belonging.  So all summer I kept encouraging them to get involved, try new things, join clubs, participate in youth group activities, and meet new people.  They listened.  So, as back to school closed in and the activities increased, I began to run out of room on our family calendar.  A new, bigger calendar was in order.

In an effort to save space and keep track of who had what activity, I assigned different colors for each child.  I eagerly began writing down the various activities and events.  There were cross-country and volleyball practices, games, and meets; various school club meetings; church meetings and activities; school registration events; orthodontist appointments; and babysitting, pet sitting, and house sitting.  As the calendar filled up, I had a beautifully colored masterpiece......and an anxiety attack!  Our relatively peaceful, not overly scheduled lives had become a rainbow of activity carefully plotted on the kitchen calendar. 

Instead of feeling organized and ready to face the year, I wanted to run!  An option my husband said was not going to work for him.  So I did the only thing I could think of doing.....I starting repeating 'Help me Jesus!  Help me Jesus!' over and over.  (It's the same phrase I say when I ride a roller coaster or Ferris wheel.)  As usual, He showed up to help!  No, He didn't give me a personal assistant (although that would have been awesome!) or give me more hours in the day.  Instead, He reminded me that He would be with me every step of the way, that He gave me a wonderful husband who is willing to dig in and help, and kids who have learned to offer me a lot of grace.

There are days when the sight of my rainbow calendar still overwhelms me; so I ask for help.  And some things have fallen through the cracks, like a missed guitar lesson; so I ask for grace.  Thankfully, I am given both....

My Long Summer Break

In May, I decided to take some time off from writing.  I planned to take four to six weeks off so I could get through the crazy end of school tests and events.  But on the last day of school, it happened....My oldest daughter got in the van and said, "It's official; I'm a senior!"  My heart stopped.  Of course I knew she was going to be a senior and things would begin to change, but hearing it made it all too real.  Her words marked the beginning of a new season of parenting for me, preparing to launch my children.

I knew this day would come and as excited as I am about the adventures that lay ahead for her and her siblings, I'm also a little anxious about what the future holds.  For the last 18 years, I've been a mom.  Even a few nights ago at a school function, I was introduced as 'the mom with all the kids'.  Soon  my identity will no longer be tied so closely to my children.  I will return to being Karen.  Before that happens, I want to soak in the time I have left. 

So my short break turned into a much longer break.  This summer we played.  We went to a water park and the beach.  We played games.  We went swimming.  We toured colleges.  We watched movies and caught up on TV shows. We sat together and talked.  And we laughed a lot.  It was fabulous!  I stored up memories that I will always cherish.   Memories that make me smile and laugh out loud.  Memories that comfort me when I think of what's to come.  Memories I can share with their children some day.  Memories that make my heart full.  It was time well spent......

Autism and Siblings

April was Autism Awareness Month.  My kids started the month off by making Autism Awareness t-shirts and sweatshirts for themselves and a few friends.  They have worn their shirts every week of the month.  I think the shirts give them a voice.  It gives them a chance to tell others what it's like being an autistic person's sibling.  And sometimes it's hard.

When they were little, it was going to the therapists office several times a week where they had to play in the waiting room when they really wanted to be at the park.  It was leaving public places because their brother was having a tantrum and he couldn't calm down.  It was not going to certain children's entertainment restaurants because their brother couldn't deal with all the stimulation.  It was explaining to friends why their brother was lining up cars or constantly singing or repeating movie lines to himself. 

These are just some of the difficulties I noticed, but I'm the mom, so my perspective is different.  I wondered what their's looks like.  So I decided to ask them.  These are some of their responses.

It can be embarrassing.  He doesn't act like other kids his age.  He asks embarrassing questions loudly in public places.  He sometimes does inappropriate things in public not realizing it's inappropriate.  He likes to sing loudly in public.  And although, he has a great voice, people do stare.  He speaks lines from videos out loud and laughs.

It can be frustrating.  He gets stuck in behavior patterns and it can take a while to get him to stop, even if you ask him to stop.  He wants to win and be first so playing games with him takes work because you have to remind him that it's okay if he loses.  His diet is limited so going out to eat can be difficult.  He gets used to doing things in a certain way and at a certain time so when things are different, he can get agitated.

But there are some positive things as well.

It teaches patience.  Whether they wanted to learn it or not!  Each of them tolerate a lot before getting mad.  They know that others may not move, think, or grow like they do so they wait when others need time to 'catch up' in some way.

It teaches understanding.  They know that when someone acts a certain way, there may be a reason behind the actions even if there are no visible signs. They know it could be a disability of some sort, a difficult family situation, or just a bad day.

Autism and all it entails is a large part of our lives.  It has been challenging, especially for my other kids.  So my hope is that when you encounter a family with a child with a disability, you offer encouragement, love, and acceptance, especially to the siblings!

Dream Valuation

How do you determine the value of a dream? What criteria should be used? Is it how much money you could make?  Is it the prestige or reputation you will gain?  Is it the number of lives you will touch?  Is it the depth of your passion?  

Truthfully, I'm not sure how much I thought about putting a value on dreams until my children started to express their own and others would offer feedback.  And now as my oldest daughter contemplates college and in what she will major, the concept of valuing a dream has come up numerous times. 

My daughter has a passion for kids.  She thinks that kids of all ages are the greatest.  She is also a gifted teacher.  Teaching is natural, instinctual for her.  Even the teachers she has interned with comment on her natural ability and her passion.  She sees the potential in each child and is willing to try numerous ways to explain concepts to them.  As a result, her dream for many years has been to become a teacher.  It is still one of her many dreams.  But there are those who do not place a high value on her dream.  "She could do so much more."  "She could earn more doing something else."  "She has such potential for better things."  "She could be so much more than 'just a teacher'."

(Now, I won't get on my soap box and lecture you about the need for passionate, gifted teachers or how teaching is minimized.  Suffice it to say, I think teaching is a wonderful profession and am thankful for the great teachers my children and I have encountered.  My purpose here is not to defend one profession, but to honor dreams.)

I think the statements given in response to an other's dreams often reflects the value assessed.  So, once a value is given, what are we to do with it?  Are there dreams that don't have enough 'value' to even be worth pursuing?  Should certain dreams be abandoned?  Should some dreams be modified until their value increases sufficiently? 

Ultimately, the question is, who gets to determine the value of our dreams?  Will we allow others that privilege?  Or will we determine the value for ourselves?  My hope is that my children will boldly follow their dreams regardless of other people's assessments.