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Reminiscing (A Photo-Psalm)

April 21, 2013 By Leave a Comment

We’re headed south on another unplanned family trip, this time for a funeral. In addition to packing for ourselves and the dog, and gathering the homeschool supplies and the specific-to-my-eating-plan food, I also attended the Accessibility Summit at McLean Bible Church this weekend. My brain and heart are still spinning from the useful information, the new connections, and the sheer delight of meeting some of my fellow Chosen Families bloggers face to face.

Whewy.

It’s too much for one blog post. It’s too much for one weekend! With no hope of focusing my attention directly enough to give you a readable anything today, I thought I’d share some snapshots of precious moments in my life with my girl in the hopes that you will giggle like I do when I look at them and remember. All through the Old Testament, God told His people to remember what He had done for them, the many ways He loved and cared for them. Just think of this post as my photo-psalm of praise to God, my Rock and my Shelter. He has done so far above and beyond what I ever dreamed possible for me and my child.

From this small scary beginning at 2 days old

At the beginning,
when she couldn’t breathe on her own
and I couldn’t hold her,
You were there.

In every minute of the screaming, You were there.

In every minute of the screaming,
You were there. 

Waiting for playgroup to start, 6 months old

When we hosted playgroup at our house for the first time,
and we didn’t know what to expect,
You were there. 

Playing with Buddy Dog, 2 years old

When she squinched up her eyes and growled at the dog
because she wanted his toy, 

when she let him wear her necklace,

when she let him wear her necklace,

when she played in the bathtub when it wasn't bathtime,

when she played in the bathtub during not-bathtime,
unsupervised with necklaces galore around her neck,

when she buried herself in her toybox and shut the lid,

when she buried herself in her toybox and shut the lid, 

when she climbed into the sink, unlocked the medicine cabinet, and drank the cherry cold medicine, You were there, Lord. You kept her safe.

when she climbed into the sink, unlocked the medicine cabinet,
and drank the cherry cold medicine,
You were there.
Lord, You kept her safe.

When I chose her outfit,

When I chose her outfit,

and when she dressed herself, Your arms were always around us.

and when she dressed herself,
Your arms were always around us.

When she recuperated from ear tube surgery

When she recuperated from ear-tube surgery

and when she prepped for eye surgery, You held us close to You and close to each other.

and when she prepped for eye surgery,
You held us close to You and close to each other.

Through the rough seasons

Through the rough seasons

and relaxing times,

and the relaxing times,

You love us well, God.

You love us well, God.
Thank You for giving us each other to love.

What a good God we serve.
Happy Church Day!

Candi

 

Filed Under: Praise, Sensory Processing Disorder Tagged With: , ,

Shifting, Jesus-Style (In Which God Moves Us Across the Street)

March 10, 2013 By Leave a Comment

One of the most pronounced characteristics of my daughter’s hidden disability is how much she struggles processing transitions.

Which is inconvenient because that’s the one thing in life that will never change:
things will always change.

I can’t tell you how many birthday parties and playdates we avoided because I couldn’t predict how Cami would express her struggles with transitions. Sometimes the meltdown happened at the event location when we were leaving, and sometimes the meltdown happened later in the van on the way home. Every time, the meltdown happened: Cami laying on the floor or rigid in the chair, screaming, arms flailing, fists banging, legs kicking—no intelligible words, with actual tears and snot all over her face. It was intense, y’all.

Through the years, we tried different strategies to help Cami with transitions:

  • talking through the schedule ahead of time,
  • role-playing how to leave a location gracefully,
  • multiple warnings that time-to-leave was coming up,
  • a code word to use if either of us was feeling overwhelmed by a situation,
  • planning what my friend Betsy calls exit strategies.

There were stretches of time when the most effective strategy we employed was to simply stay home. We didn’t rearrange furniture in her bedroom. I let her wear the same shirt day after day (I washed it when she slept). I didn’t plan anything for the week of Daylight Savings Time, knowing it would take the entire week for us to adjust to the time-keeping shift. As she’s grown older, Cami’s transitioning ability has increased in its effectiveness, although we still need at least a week to adjust to Springing Forward.

A few years ago, when Michael and I started the conversation about buying a house, Cami’s struggle with transitions was foremost in my husband’s mind. We talked about it as a family for at least two years before we looked at our first real estate listing. We stayed on our knees through the entire process, giving God our request list but knowing He would work out everything for our good. I didn’t realize, however, how good He would work everything out where Cami was concerned.

We read about and saw pictures of places all over Northern Virginia. We drove around and looked at the outside of countless houses, checking out the neighborhoods, calculating Michael’s commute time, gauging how long it would take us to get to church. Yet we only viewed the inside of a handful of houses, all in one weekend. None of the houses fit us at all. As I walked the dog one evening, I found myself literally crying out to God, tears running down my face as I realized I didn’t want to leave our street. We began our house-hunt wanting to buy a single-family home with a little land attached, with room to garden and a covered porch to enjoy. We ended our house-hunt asking God to give us a home to buy on our current street of townhouses. We love our neighborhood, and we’d spent six years cultivating relationships on our street. There was only one drawback to the new house hunt: the only unit for sale on our street was far beyond our price range.

We decided to wait and see what God would do. Even though we’d previously been inside it, we toured our neighbors’ house, looking this time with buyers’ eyes. It had plenty of room inside and out, with a garden already established in the backyard. Although it didn’t have a covered porch, it did have a nice deck overlooking the woods. I asked God to make it possible for us to buy their place. We continued to pray and wait on God’s provision and timing.

Two weeks later, as I worked in our front yard, a different neighbor came across the street. “I heard you’re looking for a place to buy,” he said.

“We are,” I said.

“Would you and Mike be interested in buying our place? We found a house a few blocks away we want to purchase.”

You know those moments that charge the atmosphere with their holiness, when God’s presence is palpable in the air? the moments where you feel God shift your reality as He performs His will in your life? It was one of those moments. God rocked my world as I stood there on the front sidewalk of the house we had rented for six years. Within the week, my husband and our neighbor discussed a deal to buy the townhouse, which was smaller than the one we’d prayed for, but had an updated kitchen and bathrooms, fresh paint in every room, and new carpets. The men shook hands on the terms, then we called our real estate agents. Within three weeks, we closed on the home God hand-picked for us and moved across the street.

Cami still struggled with the transition involved in moving out of the house we had lived in for six of her ten years of life. Yet where God had rocked my world, He steadied my daughter’s world. He gave us a house with a floor plan that mirrored our familiar space: different enough for us to make it our own, yet similar enough that Cami’s adjustment was minimal. Instead of Cami’s bedroom facing the woods where she could sit at the open window like she used to, her bedroom now faces the parking lot and our neighborhood’s common areas, giving her ample opportunity to see when her friends are playing outside and to join them. Instead of one master bedroom and two tiny bedrooms, God gave us a house with two master bedrooms, with room enough for Cami to spread out all over her own room instead of spreading out all over everywhere else. Although it took a few weeks for us to unpack and settle into our new home, Cami spent that time in her familiar neighborhood with her familiar friends, building fairy houses and riding scooters and drawing on the sidewalks with chalk.

When we moved, we didn’t leave any of her friends or any of our neighbors behind. Instead, we planted our feet firmly on the street where God had already planted our hearts.

With no transition meltdowns, no time-to-leave warnings, and no exit strategies needed.

I like shifting with Jesus much better than trying to shift on my own.

Grateful for His gentle, steadying hand,

Candi

Filed Under: Change Tagged With: , ,

Grace, Growth, and Gratitude

February 10, 2013 By 4 Comments

Seven years ago this week, we withdrew our daughter from public school kindergarten.

I had such high hopes for Cami in the classroom. I loved kindergarten! As inquisitive as my girl was, I just knew she’d love it, too.

Cami's first day of kindergarten, 2005

It was hard to leave her at the Kiss and Ride spot every day and drive away. I remember leaving the parking lot, weeping and praying that the Holy Spirit would guide her, that God would protect her. My family and friends told me, “It will take time to adjust, but you have to let her go. It’s time to let her grow up.” Yet, in my heart of hearts, I think I knew things were going terribly wrong at school.

Hindsight’s great, isn’t it? Looking back, I can see how God had His arms wrapped around us both as we struggled to find His path for us. I thought it was weakness on my part, this burning desire to keep her home with me. I thought it was misbehavior on her part, the temper tantrums before and after school and the frowny face notes that came home with her.

I know now that she was being bullied—physically attacked and verbally threatened—daily by a little boy in her class. I know now that she couldn’t understand many of the auditory instructions given to her by the adults in her world. I know now that Cami could neither see nor hear properly, and that her brain had to reorient after she had both eye and ear surgeries in that kindergarten year.

I know now how magnificently and thoroughly God answered those mommy heart cries of mine as I drove out of the school parking lot every day. I know how He protected her, and guided her, and loved her when I didn’t know how.

We’ve grown a lot in the last seven years. We’ve found our groove with homeschooling. We’ve found a way to more than just survive each day and the challenges that come our way. We’ve learned how funny auditory processing struggles can be and how fully God redeems and restores misunderstandings when loving each other is of the highest value in a family.

We’ve found abundant springs from our Father in this land He’s given us to make fertile. There’s fruit everywhere I look these days.

And it is glorious.

Cami & Roscoe listening to the woods, 2013

Thanking Jesus for His amazing grace in our lives,

Candi

Filed Under: Homeschool, Journey, learning disabilities, Parenting Tagged With: , ,

Courage for the Adventure

December 30, 2012 By Leave a Comment

It’s the last Church Day of 2012.

I feel like I should have some profound ruminations to share with you. Or, at the very least, a thoughtful recap of our year recounting all the ways God has showered His grace on this Chosen Family.

All I have to offer you on this day?

A scripture:

This is what the LORD Almighty says:
“All this may seem impossible to you now…
But do you think this is impossible for Me, the LORD Almighty?…
Take heart and finish the task.”
(Zechariah 8:6,9, NLT)

A quote from the Hobbit:

“Go back?” [Bilbo] thought. “No good at all! Go sideways? Impossible! Go forward? Only thing to do! On we go!” So up he got, and trotted along with his little sword held in front of him and one hand feeling the wall, and his heart all of a patter and a pitter.
(from J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Hobbit, Chapter 5, paragraph 7)

And a prayer:

LORD Almighty, You choose these Chosen Families. You anoint us and empower us. Your divine power gives us everything we need for life and godliness through our knowledge of Jesus, Your Son (2 Peter 1:3). Everything we need, Lord. Sometimes, it sure doesn’t feel like enough. But You’ve promised to sustain us, even to our old age and gray hairs (Isaiah 46:4). You’ve promised, and we believe You. Lord, please help our unbelief. Give us courage to follow You wherever You lead us in the coming year. As we keep stepping after You, we give You all the credit for anything good that comes from our lives. Our praises are for You alone. Because of Jesus…

On we go!

Cassandra

Filed Under: Bible, Courage Tagged With: , , ,

His Deeds

November 26, 2012 By 2 Comments

Oh (Joan) give thanks to the Lord,

call upon His name;

make known His deeds among the peoples (of Chosen Families)….

I Chronicles 16:8

Tonight as I sit by the absolute last embers in the fireplace, watching my college girl scooch as close as possible to those fading embers to stay warm (in true “cinder”rella fashion), I’m reflecting (in a dazed sort of way) on all the things that happened this year – so many things I did not know were coming….

if it were not for God’s deeds on behalf of our family, we would be toast.

For instance, this time last year I did NOT know my husband (in a matter of weeks) would be in a full blown worst-in-twenty-years manic episode.  There are some things I just do NOT need to know ahead of time. God decided that would be one of them.

BUT, I also did not know God would use that episode to help us change doctors and medications — something we had been needing for YEARS. God accomplished those Medical and Marital Deeds through the manic episode.

I did not know, simultaneously, I would have to move an aging relative into assisted living. I’m too sentimental to be good at those kind of decisions…much less during a long manic episode.  But unknown to me, God would do many Moving and Logistical Deeds on my behalf, helping me dismantle and condense 84 years of life and belongings into a single room, in a city 16 hours from where I lived.

Don’t get me wrong – I still felt like God had double booked trials last winter (unnecessarily). But, as can be expected from Omniscience, He knew what was coming the REST of the year, and why that task had to be done THEN. (I thanked Him later). Not only that, but the “double booking” forced my blistered soul to live with elderly saints for 2 weeks, giving me fresh courage to endure the long manic siege.

On a different note, I did not know if my son, with learning disabilities, and ADD (and aversion to all medications) would graduate college last May. It would not have been the end of the world it he had not. But he DID! If you are reading this, you know God did 16 YEARS worth of Educational Deeds to make that happen.

Nor did I have the slightest clue this son would choose a bride this year. You would think, with the bipolar and then some disabilities around here, he would just go take a long walk off a short pier. But no. Because God is merciful, He answered our son’s prayers, and ours, leading him to a Jesus-loving life mate. Even though she lived half way around the world, one of God’s deeds was to make their paths cross!

I wish we had been the only ones with a manic episode this year, but we were not. One  dear in-law suffered as well, disrupting their young family for months, as the long search for the right med blend depleted their resources.  They were just getting some relief when they came for Thanksgiving….

SO…the sweetest moment of Thanksgiving for me was after dinner, when we were taking turns, naming God’s deeds on behalf of our family. It has been a HARD year because of hidden disabilities. But lo and behold, here we were, alive and well (all things considered)…I wept as I listed His deeds….

Thank you, dear Chosen Families readers, for letting me “make known His deeds” to you each week…for understanding what I mean, even when I am not skilled enough to explain….

Dearly Dependent on His Deeds,

Joan

 

 

Filed Under: Bipolar Disorder, God's presence, Gratitude, Thanksgiving, Uncategorized Tagged With: , , , ,

A Lot to Be Thankful For

November 25, 2012 By 1 Comment

This past week included a day our country celebrates Thanksgiving, a day originally set aside to remember how blessed we are and to thank God for those many blessings. The holiday has become about parades with giant balloons, football games, and the obligatory dinner with family. The Virginia Dickerson Family’s traditional Thanksgiving usually ends up being about the food:

  • roasted turkey (we prefer the white meat),
  • cornbread dressing (made with lots of cream-of-chicken soup),
  • homemade cranberry sauce (my heart soars when fresh cranberries appear in the grocery store),
  • one can of Ocean Spray® Jellied Cranberry Sauce (because Cami doesn’t like all the ingredients we put in the homemade stuff),
  • fresh green beans (not from a can!),
  • corn (frozen is okay, but sweet corn is a necessity),
  • roasted zucchini and yellow squash (kosher salt, freshly ground pepper, and extra virgin olive oil),
  • from-scratch mashed potatoes (my husband’s specialty),
  • lasagna (a nod to Michael’s brother David, who doesn’t like turkey so every year, their mom made lasagna to take to Granny’s house),
  • sweet potato souffle (or casserole; the recipe changes every year but must include crushed walnuts, cinnamon, and nutmeg),
  • and, of course, pie (cherry, pecan, chocolate butter, and whatever other kind of pie Michael wants to try and bake).

When we cook all this food, we can’t possibly eat it all by ourselves, so we invite neighbors and friends to join us. Which means I have to clean the house. And figure out where everyone will sit. (We live in a townhouse, so space is always a concern.) And make sure I have containers to send food home with everyone. And, and, and….

As Thanksgiving approached this year, some things in our family were different than last year. For one, I’m on an eating plan that limits my carbohydrate intake to 80-85 grams per day. I wasn’t sure I could be in the same environment as our traditional Thanksgiving feast and stay on my eating plan. Secondly, in years past when our townhouse was packed with people, Cami and I both ended up on sensory input overload which led to my exploding and her imploding. As much as we love the people we invite to our home, all the visiting in one day is not, for us, conducive to a peaceful holiday.

So we didn’t have a traditional Thanksgiving. We took notes from all the Cami’s Birthday Adventure trips and got outta town. We used our hotel points and drove an hour away from home and did some things we’ve never done before. We still celebrated family and blessings, just in a new way. The weekend’s first activity was risky because Cami normally doesn’t like movie theaters. We never go to movies, choosing instead to watch Red Box® and Netflix® videos at home. We tried it anyway. The First Ever Virginia Dickerson Family Thanksgiving Getaway Adventure started by introducing Cami to an activity my family did often way back when.

When I was growing up, the drive-in movie theater was my family’s splurge of the month. The admission price was by the carload, so that made it affordable for a family of four, even one as stretched financially as we were most of the time. I remember wrapping sodas in aluminum foil so they would stay colder. My mom made hot dogs at home and wrapped them individually in aluminum foil so we could eat them during the movie. She spent the afternoon popping popcorn in the big dutch oven on top of the stove, shaking the pot over the burner until she’d filled a brown grocery sack full of yumminess for us to eat later. My sister and I took our blankets and pillows and camped out in the luggage rack on top of our Plymouth station wagon. I saw John Wayne double-features and several Herbie movies at the drive-in theater with my family back then.

This year, the Virginia Dickersons ate our Thanksgiving dinner at the only drive-in movie theater in Virginia. For less than the admission price Michael and I would pay to see a first-run feature, all three of us, including the dog, saw a first-run family-friendly movie and made some fantastic memories. The gentleman at the ticket booth took our admission money and gave us two dog treats for Roscoe. He explained how they were only showing a single feature that evening because they didn’t expect many people, and it was, after all, a holiday. My husband thanked him for being open on the holiday so we could have a family adventure.

Cami and Roscoe stayed in the warmth of the truck while Michael and I sat outside in lawn chairs to watch the movie. We were one of three cars in the entire parking lot. Because there weren’t that many people, we were able to chat with the concession stand workers, all members of the same family who owned the theater. Michael and Cami ate concession-stand food for dinner: hot dogs, french fries, popcorn, ice cream sandwiches, barbecue sandwiches, and mozzarella sticks. I ate three french fries, two handfuls of popcorn, and a bag of Medifast® cereal. We saw a shooting star. It was magical.

Cassandra Freezing at the Drive-In

What was more magical was how much the experience impressed my girl. Later, back at the hotel, she was writing as usual. As usual, I asked, “Cami, what are you writing?”

“A thank-you note.”

“To whom?”

“The people at the movie theater.”

Wow. In spite of all my stumbling and striving to make the holiday comfortable for myself, my daughter gets it. She gets Thanksgiving better than I do. She took the time to write out her favorite moments and say “thank you” to the people who made those moments possible. I’m ashamed to admit it, but we don’t make a practice of writing thank-you cards. Until the last year or so, getting Cami to write anything was more stressful than simply saying “Thank you” aloud to the giver. She decided on her own to write this note.

We drove to the theater on Friday night to deliver the note personally. We expected to see the same sweet gentleman who gave us our tickets the previous night, but it was someone different. When my husband handed over the note and explained what it was, the lady said, “Oh, Jim will be so tickled to have this. He’s been with his wife all day. She’s in critical care. Maybe this note will brighten things a little for him.”

I asked her if Jim’s wife would be okay. “We hope so. We’d appreciate your prayers.”

Jim’s wife was part of the crew that made our concession food on Thanksgiving night.

(On the front of the folded note)
TO: the owners of the Family drive-in thetre (have to work on spelling that word correctly)
FROM: C.M. Dickerson
DATE: Thanksgiving day, 2012
SUBJECT: one of the movies you showed, Rise of the Guardians

(left column)
I never knew that The Easter bunny had two boomerangs and an Australian accent. Weird, huh?

Now I know that I like drive-in thetres!

Great movie,
Great people,
And a shooting star.
There’s a lot to be thankful for.

(right column)
THANK YOU
(paw print, presumably from Roscoe)

Thank You, Lord, for once again using my daughter to remind me of what really matters. Thank You for loading this journey’s seemingly insignificant moments with meaning.

Thankful for so much, my heart can barely stand it,

Cassandra

Filed Under: Holidays Tagged With: , , ,

Showers of Blessing

October 28, 2012 By 2 Comments

Last month, we spent a week in a beach house with Michael’s mom, his siblings, and their families. Our anticipation about the trip escalated through August and September; we were both excited to go and nervous about going. Neither Cami nor I make transitions quickly nor gracefully. Add having other people watching us struggle to make transitions, and it can get stormy.

My sis-in-law found a house that had a third-floor suite, all one big room, but with doors to close—a place to pull away, calm our emotions, and regroup. Boy, did we need that space. The first night we were there, God put on a show with thunder and lightning and rain. While the family was gathered on the main floor, I found Cami sitting at the opened sliding glass door in our room, singing praises to Jesus as she watched the storm, as close as she could get to the powerful display without being in it.

I spent my week being an advocate for Cami, making sure she wasn’t left out or put on the spot, making sure she had space to do her Cami thing. It was exhausting. At home, in our normal environment with our usual routine, she hasn’t had an emotional meltdown in months. The week at the beach, she had three major meltdowns. I knew there would be rough spots, places to navigate skillfully being around different people with different personalities than the people we see in our lives at home. I didn’t expect things to be as intense emotionally as they were.

God knew, though. That night He showed off with the powerful storm? The next morning, I was catching a minute alone with Him, asking Him to give us strength to stay present in each moment, to celebrate Who He is and who we are because of Him, when I looked up and saw this promise:

He stayed so close to us that week. When I asked Cami what the most pleasant experience was from that week, she said, “I can tell you the most unpleasant experience, but not the most pleasant because there are too many to choose from.”

Her most unpleasant experience during that week? She fell on some rocks and scraped both legs. (More on that incident in another post.)

Her pleasant experiences?

  • seeing the Milky Way in the night sky (Let me just say: A.maz.ing.)
  • seeing multiple shooting stars on multiple nights
  • building unusual sand castles with her cousin

  • watching dolphins playing in the surf right off shore
  • looking down off a pier that’s only accessible by boat and seeing a momma horseshoe crab with her baby on her back moving through the sea grass
  • visiting a sea turtle nest, looking for signs of hatching
  • watching incredible lightning displays
  • chasing crabs and catching them

  • meeting a puppy named Monty in one of the shops in town
  • all the shells

  • eating some incredible chocolate chocolate chip cookies her dad made from scratch
  • making a birthday cake for her cousin from scratch with her dad

Were there rough moments? Oh, yeah.

But the brilliant, glorious moments? There were so many more of those.

Thanking Jesus for His showers of blessing,

Cassandra

Filed Under: Gratitude, vacation Tagged With: , , ,

Laminin (How Jesus Holds Us Together)

September 2, 2012 By Leave a Comment

Psalm 33
1 Let the godly sing with joy to the LORD,
for it is fitting to praise Him.

2 Praise the LORD with melodies on the lyre;
make music for Him on the ten-stringed harp.

3 Sing new songs of praise to Him;
play skillfully on the harp and sing with joy.

4 For the word of the LORD holds true,
and everything He does is worthy of our trust.

5 He loves whatever is just and good,
and His unfailing love fills the earth.

6 The LORD merely spoke,
and the heavens were created.
He breathed the word,
and all the stars were born.

7 He gave the sea its boundaries
and locked the oceans in vast reservoirs.

8 Let everyone in the world fear the LORD,
and let everyone stand in awe of Him.

9 For when He spoke, the world began!
It appeared at His command.

10 The LORD shatters the plans of the nations
and thwarts all their schemes.

11 But the LORD‘s plans stand firm forever;
His intentions can never be shaken.

12 What joy for the nation whose God is the LORD,
whose people He has chosen for His own.

13 The LORD looks down from heaven
and sees the whole human race.

14 From His throne He observes
all who live on the earth.

15 He made their hearts,
so He understands everything they do.

16 The best-equipped army cannot save a king,
nor is great strength enough to save a warrior.

17 Don’t count on your warhorse to give you victory—
for all its strength, it cannot save you.

18 But the LORD watches over those who fear Him,
those who rely on His unfailing love.

19 He rescues them from death
and keeps them alive in times of famine.

20 We depend on the LORD alone to save us.
Only He can help us, protecting us like a shield.

21 In Him our hearts rejoice,
for we are trusting in His holy name.

22 Let your unfailing love surround us, LORD,
for our hope is in You alone.

Colossians 1
15Christ is the visible image of the invisible God. He existed before God made anything at all and is supreme over all creation. 16Christ is the One through Whom God created everything in heaven and earth. He made the things we can see and the things we can’t see—kings, kingdoms, rulers, and authorities. Everything has been created through Him and for Him. 17He existed before everything else began, and He holds all creation together.

Have you heard of laminin? Louie Giglio talked about it on his Indescribable tour. This video snippet is about 15 minutes long, but so worth the time it takes to watch it. Let the Holy Spirit encourage you today through the intricate and amazing design of the human body and a little thing called “laminin.” Click on the link below to view the video.

Laminin

Thank You, God, for creating us, for knitting us together in our mothers’ womb.
We praise You because we are fearfully and wonderfully made!
Your works are wonderful! We know that full well.
Our frames weren’t hidden from You when we were made in the secret place.
When we were woven together in the depths of the earth,
Your eyes saw our unformed bodies.
All the days ordained for us were written in Your Book before one of them came to be. (Psalm 139:13-16)

We are amazing! God made us that way!

Cassandra

Filed Under: Bible, genetics Tagged With: ,

Thank You

August 12, 2012 By 6 Comments

As this week winds down and it’s time to submit my Chosen Families post, I’ve thought of y’all often. Y’all: you who open your in-boxes to us, who read our words, who pray for us, who sometimes comment, sometimes email us—I think of you all often.

I wonder what I have to say that any of you will want to read. I wonder how to adequately express the ins and outs of my family’s life without revealing too much, or not enough, or offending you, or boring you. I wonder who you are, what your lives are like, how our community fits into your world.

As I type, I realize: your world is also my world. There isn’t a “me” and a “you”; there’s a “we” and an “us.” So many times, it’s easy for me to think I’m here alone, with unique struggles and inexpressible concerns, with no one except God to talk to, with no one except God to whisper encouragement to me.

I watch Cami also struggle with this falsehood. Summer vacations and extremely uncomfortable temperatures have made the cul-de-sac we live on inactive this summer. When usually the neighborhood kids would be out on their bikes and scooters, looking for caterpillars and coloring the sidewalks with chalk, this summer has been quiet. Although there have been a few times when Cami’s friends came inside to play, for the most part, she’s had to settle for just her dad and me. “Sometimes it feels like my friends don’t want to be with me,” she said this week.

Isn’t that just like the enemy of our souls, to lie to us and tell us we’re all alone, no one’s interested in us, no one cares who we are or how we are? It is a lie, you know. Psalm 68:6 tells us that the Lord puts us lonely ones into families. I’m so grateful He’s put me into this family of Chosen Families. I’m grateful for a place to tell our story, the story He’s writing in us.

The writer of Hebrews tells us to “think of ways to encourage one another to outbursts of love and good deeds” (Heb. 10:24, NLT). Just by reading this blog, you do that for me. All week long, I’m trying to listen for God in our days, asking Him what to write about here in this cyber place. Just by reading this blog, you encourage me to look for Jesus. When I’m looking for Jesus, this curious thing happens: I find Him. And when I find Him, I find abundant opportunities to show others His love and goodness.

So as this week draws to a close, as I wonder about you, pray for you, let me say:

Thank you. Thank you for reading, for praying, for responding. Thank you for pushing me towards Jesus.

Cassandra

 

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Mighty Acts

June 8, 2012 By 2 Comments

“One generation shall praise Your works to another, and declare Your mighty acts….”

This winter, I distinctly remember telling God I didn’t see any need (or good) for layering multiple crises simultaneously in my life. It seemed like poor planning on His part, and although I didn’t go that far in my criticism, we both knew I was hurt by His timing.

On my porch today, He kindly reminded me in Ps 145, to set the record straight, now that I can see straight (er). I am happy to do so! I laughed recently at the description of a talkative woman: “her tongue is attached in the middle and flaps on both ends.” A vivid visual, and hits close to home. That being the case, let me be eager-to-utter-praise-declare-tell the ways God is quite PERFECT in His timing, mighty in His actions (on my behalf), and abundantly good (to my whole family).

The Mighty Acts happened like this…

Last fall, while I am spending weeks away from home setting up care for our elderly relative, my youngest sibling suddenly needs a multi-organ transplant, the sooner the better. Our parents are gone, so it’s just 3 of us.  My sister and I are in the pipeline to donate (a multi-month commitment) when my husband goes manic. All stop. I can do many things, but organ donation while husband is manic is not one of them.

Meanwhile, our elderly relative is quietly, desperately asking to come live with me. I never pictured being unable to care for her if she asked.  It would be my honor. (I want to live with my family too, when I am old.) But my husband’s disability is triggered by her condition, which triggers hers, which triggers him … and this joins the long list of things I cannot do. I know he is my first priority, and while others can care for her, no one else can be my husband’s wife. It’s not the first time his hidden disability limits what we can do for someone … so I have to refuse her, and it hurts like the dickens (whatever dickens is).

My sister is now the only donor possibility, when suddenly her nearly grown child relapses with a deadly cancer after 18 years. Obviously she’s out of the pipeline, and now two loved ones will die without a lot of assistance and intervention. We are a small family, we can’t cover all these bases. We are telling God this. We are begging Him for mercy, for reprieve … to let one of these cups to pass from us. Or to give grace to walk it out if we must drink them all.

And I am thinking how glad I am Jesus took my parents to Glory when He did. At the time, their deaths seemed early, premature. Now it seems merciful. I agree with God’s timing, and He is gracious enough to say, “I told you so.”

My just-stabilizing husband supports me as I go help the youngest, who is most critical. It’s not the first time his hidden disability has helped us help others. He has a tender and generous heart when it comes to these things. He flies to visit me in-between his travels. We conference call weekly with the new psychiatrist, who helps us walk together through these demanding situations. Because of the manic crisis, we switched doctors, and this one is exactly what we need right now. So back when my husband was out of control, God was not. God knew what was coming, and provided the counsel we would need to face it. I spend 2 months absolutely amazed at this….

God was not preventing the effects of a fallen world, but He was providing in them.

I am in a hospital caring for my young loved one when the transplant team calls. Oh my word, it’s true … with my husband stable, I am my sibling’s best hope. But on the flight home, I realize there is no scenario in the foreseeable future where it seems wise to leave my newly stable husband again for the 2 months it will take to donate an organ. My heart constricts in pain. I need to be home, AND I don’t want my sibling to suffer any more.  I never pictured a scenario where I wouldn’t be free to give one of my siblings whatever they needed in order to live. Nor can I imagine asking this of my husband, given his hidden disability. Should I ask him or just decline the transplant team privately?

When I land, we do talk, and he is able to process with me. Because of the manic crisis (which at the time seemed wholly unnecessary) he has come out of significant denial, leaving a wonderfully humble and cooperative heart. And it dawns on me, this is one of the first times, during crisis, he is able to help make things better for me, rather than worse. An answer to his prayers. This is a Mighty Act of God, one I thought I’d never see.

God’s next Mighty Act happens 3 days later. My sibling calls, “Guess what? I just got The Call – - the transplant team has found a match!”  Really??? After this long winter, it seems too good to be true … but it IS, thank you, Jesus!! God granted a new lease on life through the generosity of another family, in their time of grief. Neither my sister nor I were God’s intended donors after all….

ALL this is God’s abundant goodness to me.

“One generation shall praise Your works to another, and declare Your mighty acts … I  will tell of Your greatness … eagerly utter the memory of Your abundant goodness.” Ps 145:4,6,7

Declaring, telling, praising,

Joan

Filed Under: Extended family, God's presence, Gratitude, Marriage Tagged With: , ,
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