In the Thick of It

A 7-Year-Old's Perspective on His 2nd Home

I work here at WRCC every week way behind the scenes for the Kids' Zone. You know all those tags on lanyards hanging out there every week? Me. The sign-in sheets? Me. The attendance in CCB? Adding new kids to the lists? The screw-ups when the lists and tags are wrong? Me. Me. Me. Blame me.

It's a volunteer job that I've done for 4 years now; and they pay me in food (that people bring in for them that they then share with me), adult conversation (though most of them aren't much past my own mental age of around 15), acceptance, and unconditional love.

So I go in once a week - or twice, depending on how efficient I am with my time (how much I talk to my friends in the office ...). When my boys are on school break, the younger two sometimes come in to *help* me. The week of Christmas, Seth (7) tagged along.

Two things you need to understand about Seth:  1.) He thinks he owns this church. There isn't a corner of the building he won't explore when it's empty, and 2.) He's a photography junkie. So this particular week, I told him he could bring my camera and take as many photos as he wanted. It started on the way there in the van and continued until we pulled back into our garage later in the afternoon.

I've decided to share with you some of his work and what he apparently deems important about WRCC. Bear with me, here, some of the photos may be a little blurry ... And please know that I am not sharing about 150 others. He was a busy little beaver.

Here we go.

 

Always a great stop before going to work. Or anywhere.

 This is Ty, my Starbucks pal - knows it is me in the drive-thru from my order. Do I visit too much? 

Happy mama! Ready to volunteer joyfully!

Uh oh. What happened?

Joyful again!

   

Apparently a goal of Seth's was to photograph every Christmas tree at WRCC:

 

Some very important figures at WRCC:

  Pastor Tim ...

and the vending machines.

 

More important figures!

 Ms. Tammy ...

 

Ms. Amy ...

other Ms. Amy ... (the one pic that I took)

(Yes, he's wearing a sweater with pajama pants and boots. What can I say? He's the third boy. You're lucky he's even dressed for these pictures.)

 

and Gene (who happens to be very important to Seth).

The art of the self-photo ...

  

(Is she finished working yet?)

The super cool sword in Phil's office.

Proof that I actually work while there. (That's my hand. I swear.)

The art of the self-photo using the camera timer ...

(A surprised Chuck Goodrich walks in mid-timer.)

The plate off which Seth ate several yummy cookies.

  And the face of a very satisfied 7-year-old apparently just after eating said cookies.

This concludes our tour of Seth's afternoon waiting for Mom to finish her volunteer job. Please note that no staff members were hurt or taken away from their very crucial work during this project.

 

 

 

 

 

'Tis the Season

With the holiday season quickly approaching, and Christmas shopping well underway - I think this video, which I posted a few years ago on my personal blog page, bears repeating.

Let the season begin!

The World Around Us

So on MOB (my other blog: My UnControlled Chaos), I was discussing the different standards that we have for our 7-year-old son with autism regarding his first season playing flag football. The standards are not lower, not higher, just different. Go check it out here.

It has me thinking - isn't that what we have as christians? Different standards than much of the world around us? If not, we should.

Aren't we taught by the Bible that we may be in this world, but not of this world? ("But my kingdom is not of this world." ~ John 18:36) This is so true. This world would have us believe that money and power are what make it spin; that success and possessions parallel our importance; that education levels and titles dictate our relevance; that outer appearances matter more than our hearts; and that you're slightly off center if you believe otherwise.

I'm not buying it anymore. And I wish the rest of the human race would follow suit.

Because just like those shiny disco body suits that, by the grace of God, finally ended up at Goodwill stores all over - if more people would realize that living life for material possessions and personal success is grossly unattractive and does nothing for one's eternal life, the world this side of heaven would be one step closer to resembling something tolerable. Even, dare I say, enjoyable?

Time for a gut check. What are you chasing? Are you mostly living by worldly standards or heavenly ones? Is there a way to have a balance? Should we, as christians, even consider trying to mix the two or it is an all-or-nothing issue?

Tell me what you think!

Oh - and just because you know you want it:

 

You're welcome.

What's Your Story?

So one of my favorite authors, whom I've mentioned before here, and you can get to know better here, also speaks at conferences and does seminars.

If you have read anything by Mr. Miller, and you know me, then you know why I connect with his writing so well. He writes true life in story format. Which is how I like to write. I do not write fiction. I write life. But not as advice, how-to, or factoid. Life as story.

People are always telling me, "I love how real you are." Well, I don't decide to be that way. It's not a concentrated effort or a decision. It's how it all comes out. Quite unfortunately, sometimes, for those who are in the line of fire. Because I just say what I say and tell what I tell - usually with a humor that makes a lot of people nervous unless they know me.

I talk about life like it is handed to me - like I live it. It's often not pretty. I tell almost every dumb thing I do. I don't try to hide much. What is the point? If you hide something, you may lose the opportunity to connect with someone else who may need to hear about that one thing to make them realize they aren't the only one.

If you put yourself out there as anything but exactly what you are, then being you becomes work instead of life. And isn't life already hard enough?

SO. In saying all of this, I'm trying to get out that every life is a story - and not always the one you originally outlined. The issue becomes finding the balance between being a participant in driving your storyline in a particular direction and letting the story unfold to see where it takes you - and realizing when you are in the between stages.

This is the most difficult part for me. It always has been. I tend to barrel through that part in the middle where I feel I'm stalling. My mind and heart are forever questioning where I'm going and why. Is this where I'm supposed to be? Did I make a wrong turn? There seems to be nothing here! God, can you please just get me there? And when I can't figure out where it is I'm going, where I want to go, where I should be going or where God is leading me - I get panicky about my life. I don't sit still very easily - physically or mentally.

A friend of mine knows how I struggle with this and recently recommended a book:

The Land Between: Finding God in Difficult Transitions by Jeff Manion

In The Land Between, author Jeff Manion uses the biblical story of the Israelite's journey through Sinai desert as a metaphor for being in undesired, transitional space. After enduring generations of slavery in Egypt, the descendants of Jacob travel through the desert (the land between) toward their new home in Canaan. They crave the food of their former home in Egypt and despise their present environment. They are unable to go back and incapable of moving forward. The Land Between explores the way in which their reactions can provide insight and guidance on how to respond to God during our own seasons of difficult transition . . . While it is possible to move through transitions and learn little, they provide our greatest opportunity for spiritual growth. God desires to meet us in our chaos and emotional upheaval, and he intends for us to encounter his goodness and provision during these upsetting seasons.

I have not read the book yet, and will be back with a review once I do.

This friend knows how much I struggle with this role I've been placed within and how I bounce back and forth between knowing this is where I need to be right now and being resentful, upset, anxious, and downright bewildered at not knowing the point of why I am where I am right now.

I have a degree in journalism and in my former life worked in advertising and then freelanced for a few years before becoming a full-time stay-at-home parent. I knew without a doubt that God wanted me to be home with my boys (at the time I had two). I was willing to put some things on hold, or at least slow them way down, to do this.

My goal has always been to be a full-time writer, but life keeps getting in the way. Raising three boys; having one, then two diagnosed on different parts of the autism spectrum (youngest with flat-out autism); wrapping my life around helping them overcome ...

In the meantime, where I want to be keeps getting pushed back and pushed aside. Little time. Little energy. Little motivation. And my confidence in my talent and abilities decreases with each passing year. (It's been 10 now).

Every time I try to take an opportunity to jump back in, to give it my all, it takes away from the emotional energy and time it takes to deal with my boys' issues. Well, let's be honest. They are exhausting and there is little left over in my mind at the end of the day.

Add in a new part-time job to help pay for meds and therapies, and I'm physically dragging, too. I don't feel that much of my time or mental energy is my own.

Which brings me back to Don Miller. Along with The Land Between recommendation, I discovered that Mr. Miller will be speaking at a conference called Living a Better Story. And being familiar with the way he approaches life, I'm sure it will be a couple of awesome days.

I would love to attend. But alas, I'm nowhere near Portland, Oregon; and nowhere near being able to use funds for something frivolous just for me that are slated for real life things in the Anderson abode.

That's just life!

So onward and upward. Or more appropriately for what I'm trying to get through my head: be still and know that I am Lord.

And This Is Why I Just Love Donald Miller

And respect his writing. And follow his blog. And his tweets.

It seems that when I'm struggling, God leads me to something or someone that will speak to me about what is going on in my head or heart. Today has been no exception.

Perusing through my Google Reader this morning to catch up on blogs that I follow, the title of Miller's latest post I'd Rather Be Hated Than Loved Conditionally knocked me over. It was exactly how I am feeling, but have been unable to weave into discernible words and sentences. It was how I tried so desperately to explain to my husband last night bawling in the driveway, sitting in the car, after we took a drive to get a coffee. I could not mix the thoughts and feelings into anything that made sense.

And that sentence. That sentiment. That blog title could have rolled right out of my heart in those tears. I just couldn't pinpoint it. So God gave me a little boost.

I have been in a bad place this morning. I was still awake after 3am, slept on the couch, and woke up to realize I hadn't shaken the feelings. Going off on a friend, who even complimented what a good rant it was, didn't do any good. It merely made my feelings razor sharp. (Which is exactly what my son's therapist tells us that ranting does. Perhaps we should listen?)

I love to love. I love to do things for people. I don't do it for the return; in fact, when people thank me or say something nice about what I've done, it makes me feel weird inside. I don't accept it very well for some reason. I have just taken this to be another thing within me that doesn't work quite like it should. I even tell myself, "Just say thank you. That's it. Don't argue."

I do things that I see that need to be done. It's that simple. I can't stand for things to go undone. I want others to be happy. If I do something well, and someone else doesn't, I do not mind using my skill to make it easier on them. I think it's more of an obsessive/compulsive thing. And I'm serious. I just want people to be happy.

The unhappiness often slips into my heart when I can't overcome when someone else doesn't see it my way. Or do it my way. Or think like I think. The thing is, I am so much better about it than I used to be, but I can't seem to kick that last bit of it hanging onto my personality.

I have been cranky and grouchy and generally upset today because I was feeling it from the other side. I was feeling treated badly, loved but only with conditions, made to feel yucky. When I saw the title, I was thinking of myself. And I was so happy that words had been attached to how I was feeling!

Then I read on. And realized that God brought me here for another reason as well.

I will not say that I do not love unconditionally, because I feel I do much of the time; but I am guilty of letting differences irritate me to the point that I'm ruining my own day. I am guilty of not letting these things roll off my back. And I am guilty of becoming frustrated when someone else does this. I believe this is why God led me to Miller's post. A mini coming-to-Jesus meeting, of sorts.

If I want to be loved without strings, then I must must be willing to do it myself. Jesus was not a control freak and, for crying out loud, he certainly had the right to be! But he chose not to be.

If you want to be a control freak, by all means - do it. Control yourself and quit focusing on when those around you aren't doing what you want, when you want, in exactly the way you want and are absolutely sure is the best way to do it.

And we are not talking about parenting here, where you are there to correct and lead. Not this time. What this is about is adult, consenting relationships. Adults do not need to be treated like children by other adults. They do not need to be treated well on the condition that they are doing life your way.

Relationships are give and take - and that does not mean you give orders and conditions and those in your life take them and go about life so you will be happy. You give love, you take love; you give in sometimes, they give in sometimes; you give leeway, they give leeway; you give a good ribbing, they take it; they give a good ribbing, and you take it.

Laugh, talk, discuss the good and the bad. Let others be able to talk to you about how they feel without fear of ridicule and criticism. Listen. Love. Comfort. You do not have to agree to be supportive. And get this: sometimes your opinion doesn't matter.

I'm sure Jesus wanted to throttle 80% of those he encountered during his ministry on earth. He felt pain. He felt sadness. He was tempted. He was human. However, as God's son he could have called out everyone he had relationships with on how wrong they were about the way they went about so much in their lives. Yes, he cared for their well-being. Yes, he knew there was a better way. Yes, he could see their ways were not lining up with his. But he did not browbeat, did not criticize, did not act condescendingly to make them see things his way. He acted quietly and lovingly. Amazingly, the end does not always justify the means.

I was feeling browbeaten and realized that I was feeling conditionally loved, but ended up with so much more. I am feeling convicted to look inward instead of point fingers.

Thanks, Donald, for being the conduit for God's message to me this morning. It seems he's been trying to reach me without success.

Ladies! Are YOU Going?

Our first women's retreat in a few years is coming up in the fall! Woot! Will you be going?

You totally need to come and join your WRCC sisters for the Sweet Life Cafe retreat September 17-19 at Lake Placid Christian Conference Center in Hartford City.

Think about it: time just for you. And God. And other women who are seeking time away as well. No laundry, no cooking, no meetings, NO WHINING. No men wondering where dinner is or staring at their to-do lists and then looking at you like you have gone mad. Again.

No vacuuming, no dusting, no commuting to work. No conference calls. Laughter, insight, time alone with God with NO INTERRUPTIONS. Someone else makes your meals.

Gettin' the idea?

As women - by nature - we take care of everyone else. We pour ourselves into others often leaving ourselves bankrupt. This retreat is an opportunity for us to invest back into ourselves and into our relationships - some old, some new, some eternal. You. Are. WORTH. IT.

Some women come knowing a lot of people. Some come knowing no one and are ready to connect. Some bring a friend so they feel more comfortable. I'm one of those people that had to MAKE myself register for my first women's retreat. It was a brutal emotional step for me because it takes me a little while to put myself out there for a stranger. But once I do - it's all over! Then I won't shut up.

So if you're on the fence about this, don't know anyone, don't feel comfortable with this kind of intimacy, I promise you are not alone. I also promise you will NOT regret it. You will come home with new, lifelong friends - women who will have your back. New, awesome women to walk this walk with.

There are even convenient payment plans to make it easier on the wallet. But you have to register sooner rather than later so you will have more time to get it paid! Call Sherry Stetnish now! (317-773-2233)

Please, please consider coming. A lot of thought and planning has gone into making this retreat A.W.E.S.O.M.E.

If you register within the next two weeks, I will personally take you to Starbucks and buy you any coffee you wish. And I'll sit and talk to you! Wait. That may be a deterrent.

Anyway, please come! Mention my name and you'll get a free coffee - I PROMISE.

For more detailed information, click the image above. Hurry!

Sometimes Faith Is The Last Thing Standing

March was a stressful month, to say the least. But God had His hand firmly on our family the entire way. There was shock, fear, deep worry, laughter, tears, fun, family, friends, and deep, deep faith ~ all woven beautifully together like a tapestry of life, but which played itself out in a short time.

My dad, who was completely unsymptomatic, found out he had a large tumor (about the size of an orange) wrapped around one of his kidneys. This was simply due to the fact that my father's regular doctor takes such good, attentive care of him on a regular basis. Something routine didn't seem right, and his doctor leapt into action.

Consequently from there, he was led to an amazing nephrologist/oncologist at IU Med Center who not only took prompt and excellent medical care of my dad, but cared for my parents emotionally with compassion and a heart for everything they were trying to absorb in such a short time. There was no doubt it was cancer, and the outcome was unknown until he was on the operating table for the most part. 

I could not write about this at the time. I did not want to write about it at the time. It was mine to deal with in my heart and I knew that if I began sharing it, the dam would break. With all I have to hold together with my boys' issues, this was not an option.

I love my faith. And I don't mean I have steadfast, unwavering, perfect faith. This is not to imply that my faith is something for others to see and long for.

No, I mean this as a personal statement; like, "I love my slippers," or, "I love my pillow." My faith is my comfort, my go-to place, my port in the storm. Without it, I would be lost at sea.

I cherish it for many different reasons on any given day. Circumstances underline certain aspects of my faith that make me love it even more, if that is possible. Facing the very real possibility of losing a loved one makes me love my faith for the promises of eternal life with Christ that I rest my belief system on. Stumbling through another parenting quagmire keeps me leaning heavily on my faith because sometimes, it is the only thing that keeps me from losing my very. last. marble. Having a bad day or afternoon, or hour makes me so grateful for my faith in that - no matter how bad things seems like they are, this life on Earth really is fleeting compared to what is waiting for us in heaven.

If I accomplish nothing else in this world but lead my sons to Christ and show them how to lean on their faith when all else seems to have fallen away, then I have done my job and they will succeed in this short life. Perhaps not by society's standards, but by eternal ones.

photo by Cecile Graat

Who Are You to Someone Else?

God gives us all kinds of people in our lives to fulfill different needs. Some make us laugh uncontrollably, some make us think deeper than we necessarily would otherwise, some give us hope, others give us strength ... and I could go on and on. The point is, everyone we know lends something important to our journey and is there for us at different times, depending on what our needs are. And the same is true on the flip side - we are exactly what someone else in our life needs at some point, for some reason.

So you're in a pit - a deep one - for whatever reason. It happens to us all. I work visually, so this is how it feels to me.

You are literally in a deep, narrow pit. All by yourself sitting there, and the sun seems so far up above you that it is only a speck - way up - where the entrance to this pit is. You've tried 10 different ways to climb out, but you just keep slipping back down. You can't seem to get a grip on the sides; it's slippery, or maybe so dry and rocky that it just crumbles when you try to dig in somewhere to go up.

You're tired of trying, so you slump back down and think, "Maybe tomorrow I can do it."

In the meantime, plenty of people stop by. You know all of them. There are those who have busy, chaotic lives of their own who genuinely care about you, but really can't help you. They do care enough to check in, make sure you are okay, and perhaps lend an encouraging word or two. It feels good to see them, to hear from them; but you're still down here and they are still up there, looking in.

There are those who recognize the pit you are in, but their decision is to yell at you from up there, outside the pit, to try and get you to come on out, already. This is their style, they think they are helping. But really, they don't get it and probably don't really want to. "Come on! You have to get out of there now. People depend on you. GET. UP. Get on your feet and CLIMB. Just do it!" They do not understand how hard you have been trying. They have not felt the walls of this pit - how impossible they are to navigate. They just see that you are not where you are supposed to be and you need to get out. Now. They almost always play the devil's advocate role. Sometimes this works. Other times it just makes you want to run from them.

There are those who stop by, it seems, just to make sure you are still there. They sort of wander by, look down at you in the pit, "Hey, just wanted to confirm you are still there! Take care!" and are gone again. Okay. They aren't meaning any harm, they are just not the people God intends to use to help you.

There are those who recognize the struggle you are having, really really want to be able to do something, but haven't a clue where to start. Their concern is genuine; and they will sit at the edge of the pit, dangle their feet over the side, and listen to every word you have to say. They will ask you over and over what they can do to help get you out of there. I like to think that God puts these people there to lend you an ear, make you feel loved - even if only for an hour or so- and, honestly, just to get the chance to feel a sense of "thank goodness I'm not her." No, I'm not joking. I truly think that we are sometimes put into someone else's life to give the other person some perspective.

Then there are these people. These very special people God has chosen this time to make a whopping difference. You know who they are.

It's the person whose voice you hear at the opening of the pit, waaaaay up there who rolls up his or her sleeves, grabs whatever they can for the journey and simply says, "I'm coming down there." They don't wait for your response, don't expect an answer. They don't know what they're getting into and have no idea how they, themselves, will get back out; but it doesn't matter to them. What matters is getting into it with you because if you are there, they want to be there, too.

It's the person who, in the face of your trying to hold back the tears, looks you dead in the eye and says, "I'm here. And I'm getting right in this with you." I'm. Coming. Down. There. They may have all these ideas of advice, of what they think you should be doing, visions of shaking you to bring you to reality. But what they do is simply get into the pit with you to be able to give you a boost from there. And sit and listen for as long as you need to until you are even ready to try once again to make the climb. 

On the day we were leaving our home in Houston, Texas, I was in about the worst emotional shape I'd ever been in up to that point in my life. I had spent four years making the best friends of my life - friends who'd become my family in the absence of my actual family. On this last day, during these last hours, my very special friend across the street was gone for the day at an important class. We had said our tearful, ugly-cry goodbye the night before, knowing that Sean and I would be gone before she returned home the next day.

However, much like things often happen, we'd been delayed in leaving for several reasons - the very last one being the fact that, when we pulled up the rug we'd had in our foyer in front of the door - the two-sided tape we'd used to keep it in place was now on the tile like super glue. No big deal, right?

Well, in my crazy, emotionally-frazzled state, this tape had to come off. We couldn't leave it for the new owners to deal with. We tried everything to get this stuff off to no avail. We'd planned on getting on the road by a certain time and it was hours past that. The next thing I knew, here was my girlfriend, walking in the door, having seen our van still in the driveway, wondering what in the world we were still here for.

And when she saw what we were doing and why we were still there, she could have done a million different things. She could have been excited that we were still there and suggested that we go to lunch one more time before we left for good. She could have suggested that we go back to her house, forget this stupid tape, and spend time together before we took off. She could have told me how crazy I am, and pulled me up and tried to shake some sense into me - this TAPE DOESN'T MATTER. GO.

But no. She knew me, she knew how I was feeling, and she did what God had sent her to do.

Still in her nice clothes after spending the day in an intense class learning about how to teach dyslexic kids a certain type of way, she rolled up her sleeves, kicked off her shoes, got on her knees and started scraping away at this tape with me. Tears from both of our eyes coming down and laughing at how we were spending our last moments together, we scraped and scraped at that tile until all of that glue was gone.

I'm coming down there. 

So right now, in my pit, my husband has been rolling up his sleeves and climbing into the pit with me. He let's me come undone without judgment, without telling me all that I'm feeling is foolish or wrong. He hugs me, let's me cry so hard that my eyes hurt, admits he has no idea how to fix it, but will do everything he can to make it not so hard on me, and loves loves loves me. And that's really all I need right now. No advice. No one to try and turn me around and make me feel that what I'm feeling is wrong or something that I shouldn't be feeling. Just let me feel it and then we'll go from there.

I hope God puts me in a position so I can be this for someone else at some point. Because it's awesome when you've got it when you need it.

photo by Caetano Lacerda

The Best Laid Plans ...

Hey - turns out that this blog won't write itself. Whodathought? I've been recovering from surgery, which has turned into a bit more than I signed up for. My most humble apologies.

It appears today that spring may be right around the corner. There are still snow patches here and there that were once huge piles; and large areas of brown that will once again be beautifully green grass. But between now and then, apparently (according to weather.com), we must endure many, many days of rain.

Isn't that how it always seems to be? We are running from one situation while longing for another, but don't want to endure the path from A to Z. We either don't want to do the work, or have patience for someone else to do the work; we want everything NOW. Yesterday. Hurry up. And we want it our way.

Nope, my surgical recovery experience has not been as I had planned. Really? As I had planned? Are you laughing at that right now? You know you do it, too. We "plan" all kinds of things that were never in our power in the first place; and when they don't go like we want them too, it is upsetting.

"I know the plans I have for you." Sound familiar? God knows. He knows what he has in store for us, and it may just not match what we have in store for ourselves. Sick parents. Less-than-perfect children. Job loss. Unethical bosses and co-workers. Dogs who poop inside. Car accidents. Unfathomable loss. Hope. Grace. Mercy. Unconditional love. Forgiveness for all we do. Over and over and over. The good, the bad, the really crappy.

God's got our backs. Every day. When our plans fall through, when our loved ones let us down, when our lives take turns we weren't expecting or when they seem to stay the same no matter what - we can rest assured that God's hand is in it somewhere, somehow. 

Now if He could just float us some instructions once in awhile, that would be just fabulous! 

photo by Lotus Head

I Think It Must Be Said

Hello. It's been awhile, yes?

I've had gentle nudging from one who shall remain unnamed along with not-so gentle poking from many others regarding this blog along with my personal blog. Where ARE you?

I've also virtually walked away from my editor/writing post at Blissfully Domestic (my managing editor: "Please don't quit! Just take a break ...")

Something is happening. You know how you have things all planned out for something and then you are reminded that God is driving the train, not you? I've been eyeing this time - all my boys in school all day - for years. Especially having a special needs child who took up every bit of my time and energy during the day. This was to be my time to finally write full time - or something close to that. I am a stay-at-home mom with a degree in journalism that's been collecting dust for 10 years since I left my career.

But I've come to believe I'm being reminded that I'm not driving the train. Because the thing is - and here it is - I can't write. There. For the first time in my life that I can remember, I'm drawing a monumental blank. A big, frightening, elephant-sized blank. I have tons to write about; I have the time and opportunity to write; but my mojo is gone, so to speak. When I look at myself in the mirror, I want to throw rotten fruit at it and yell, "Boooooooo!"

How was it, again, that Stella get her groove back?

God is taking me on a journey that I'm not particularly appreciating. Now that it's been months, I've come to realize that I'd better listen up. And I guess that's where I am now. I am deaf in one ear, so I'm used to not being able to decipher a lot of what's going on around me, but come on! I have no idea what He's trying to say by seemingly taking away the one thing I do well, but okay.

So I'm just keeping the three people that read this blog informed of the state of affairs. Perhaps one of you has heard what God's trying to say to me? Maybe?