Blindsided by Desire

In third grade they test the kids to see whether they will end up placed in the academically gifted classes going forward. Based on the note they sent home a few weeks ago apparently this is a forever designation, all the way through high school. (Also, they really test these kids a lot - and there are no validation and reliability documents sent home for parents to review and consider whether or not the test is even applicable to their kid, but that's a subject for another day.)

Anyway, I never pressure El Kiddo on standardized tests. They are what they are and in some cases they suck. As a matter of fact, I've heard a bunch of stories of how the standardized end-of-grade testing often has wrong answers on it. So when I read the stuff that was sent home letting parents know this was happening I was really surprised by how I felt. I wanted El Kiddo to do well and get placed in the academically gifted stuff in fourth grade.

What in the world?

I try hard to let his life be his life and not put inappropriate expectations on him because it's something I want that ultimately isn't all that important. But this was different. Maybe it's because I was in academically gifted classes... Maybe it's because I see how insanely smart he is... Maybe it's because I want other people to see how smart he is...

Look, there is nothing wrong with being smart. I struggled for a long time to acknowledge that I'm smart. Seriously. But there's being smart and there's wanting other people to see how smart you are... Or in this case - how smart your kid is. Why on earth would I give a crap about whether people see him as smart?

I really had to sit down and think about this. Ultimately what I determined was that it was a pride issue - mine. We have some really tough days here, which is nothing new for those who are parents. This stuff isn't for the faint of heart. Sometimes, because I do this parenting thing alone, I get tired and discouraged. It's lonely business. While I have great support from lots of people, ultimately evening homework is mine to battle through with El Kiddo. I fight bed-time battles alone. I do all the discipline. In fact, I do all the everything when it comes to the adult stuff. I'm the only in-the-moment person he's got and I get the brunt of everything.

When I distilled it all down, I wanted him to be selected because his smarts somehow validate me. While I surely wouldn't have said this out loud, what was playing out in my heart was that if he was selected it validated me as a parent. It validated all the fights, all the struggles, all the tears expended to try to get him not to flunk out of elementary school because he hates to sit still and do work.

And this is the absolutely entirely wrong motivation for seeing him selected. My job isn't to raise a kid who's smart and gets into a special program. My job is to raise a kid who learns what's needed, whether that's got a grade or designation attached or not. My job is to raise a man who loves Jesus (or at least put every bit of kindling possible around his heart in hopes the Holy Spirit will light that kid up). And whether he lands in a gifted class or not, there is no reflection on me. I don't need him to accomplish anything for me to be validated - I'm enough as-is and as God changes me from glory to glory to be like Him.

So, God worked this identity issue out with me. Because He's awesome like that. And it frees me up to love my kiddo more purely because I'm not trying to gain something from my relationship with him. I'm functioning from a place of wholeness and that keeps him from having any unnecessary burdens.

Now, to get him through third grade math without one of us going over the edge... 

The Value of No

I've been in business a long time. Half my life, to be exact. I've seen customers want what they want when they want it. I've seen employers want what they want when they want it. And I've experienced how hard it is to say "no." I struggle with no, in all honesty. I like people to be happy with me and I'm ridiculously driven. I'll keep working, keep going, until I just fall flat.

But that isn't what God wants.

I used to have such a hard time understanding how we were set apart from the world. I never really saw how I was that much different than anyone else, save for the whole no-sex-before-marriage thingy. But as I've gotten older and matured, I've started to see how very different I'm called to be.

I look at work stuff and think, "You know, if you just said no we wouldn't be stuck in a pickle when we can't deliver because it was completely unreasonable to say yes. Or even if we do deliver the toll that delivery takes on our staff because they've killed themselves to meet it. Oh, and then there's the whole if-you-work-a-miracle thing and are successful how you're expected to being a continual miracle worker."

It's all dreadfully unreasonable. I look at it and think, "Sheesh. We all need to get a whole bunch better with that word - no." Then I think about how frustrated I get when my kiddo tells me no. I don't like it. At all. And as I sit here and contemplate all this, I find myself wondering - do I ever get mad when his no is reasonable? Do I ever see his noncompliance in any other way than disobedience?

Truthfully, I don't. I don't like to hear "no" either. Obviously, he's nine so his no's are not always reasonable ("Hey, I need you to take out the trash" shouldn't generally be followed by a no or freak out). But sometimes I wonder if I'm paying attention.

Anyway, the point of all this musing is that I can't really make the world do anything different. But I can dare to push against the grain and be different myself. As I sit here exhausted mentally, feeling overwhelmed by the things I simply can't accomplish quickly, I think, "Jesus never promised me easy. He promised me possible." Even though this certainly isn't a march to martyrdom, I can live in God's rhythm, even if that means the uncomfortable-ness of sitting in the tension of "I wish I could, but I can't."

"No" makes my "yes" more valuable. Even if that's not how the Western world runs. And, while I'm here, I think I'll be a little more cognizant of my kiddo's no-s. Am I teaching him the value of no? It's a good question.

Living Life on Spectrum

I've seen some parents posting recently about walking through diagnosing whether their kids are on the autism spectrum. Until May 2013 there were some discreet disorders, like Asperger's, that could be diagnosed. With the advent of the DSM-5 (the tool used to diagnose mental disorders) everything was rolled into one and now we have Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD). Having walked through this journey myself (as a single parent, no less), I wanted to share some of what I've learned. This isn't exhaustive, and I could probably write for days, but if my experience encourages even one other person, then God has used it well.

Lessons learned hanging out on spectrum

• I am not a failure. Even though I took horrible physical care of myself during pregnancy (there were a lot of variables, including being single long before being divorced), my son's ASD does not mean I'm a failure. It could have happened even if I was awesomely healthy and did everything "right." Even if I failed in how I handled pregnancy, I am not a failure. There is a big distinction here and super important.

• Allow yourself to grieve when you get the diagnosis. We all have hopes and dreams for our kids. When those change, we experience loss. That's okay. You can feel those things. Allow them. Where it goes unhealthy is when you can't let them go and realize that God has another plan. So, allow yourself to feel and grieve. And then let God walk you through healing and into a journey He has for you - for His glory and for your (and your child's) good. 

• It's frigging hard to raise a kid on spectrum. This isn't an easy road, and that's okay. I can't tell you how many tears I've cried and how many prayers I've prayed. What I finally learned to pray, "God, I don't need easy. I need possible. Please get me to possible. I'm okay with hard. I'm okay with really hard. I just need possible." He's faithful. I have possible most of the time. Not easy, but possible.

• 90% of techniques you try will fail. 10% will work. Be really happy with the 10%. I'm pretty sure that most parents actually experience this with kids. We're dealing with a person here. A person we're trying to raise who has a personality of his/her own. In a sinful world we attempt this! For us with kids on spectrum it seems magnified because easy isn't really how it ever works for us. But if we concentrate on the 90%, we'll lose way too much joy, we'll miss God working, and we'll teach our children the way wrong focus.

• Ask for help, look for help, keep asking, and keep looking. Even married couples who have two sets of hands and temperaments and patience levels to assist need help. You need community. We all do - even if our kid isn't on spectrum! Failure to ask for and accept help is pride. I struggled mercilessly with this. I functioned on a "nice to have" versus "need to have" paradigm - if I didn't think something was absolutely necessary I wouldn't ask. Even with the needs I would wait until I was at my wit's end or had tried everything I knew to do. I completely kept people from loving me. And that, friends, is not cool. I am not able to do this by myself - neither are you. God never intended life to be done solo no matter what your situation! I have a great and supportive group of friends and family that I've educated on stuff. We have a cadre of therapists. I was going mad before I asked for help. Really. 

• Do not treat your kids like they have a disability. Look, we all have crap. I struggle with my weight and with food. My son struggles with social stuff, cognition, fine motor, and all that jazz. So what? We live in a fallen world. At least he knows his crap and it has a name. We do not refer to him as being and "Aspie." He has ASD, he is not ASD. Yes, there are needed modifications. Yes, we have to walk this life differently. But he is not his disability. I hold him to a high standard. We modify where needed. We fight through the anxiety, we fight his endless worry with all we have. What this looks like for you will be determined by where your child lands on spectrum. All I can say is don't give up and fight with all you have for your child. They are precious, not only to you, but to our God. 

• Be your child's advocate. Get educated. You need to know the law and what schools have to provide. Some parents homeschool. I can't do that since I'm the sole breadwinner. I fight hard to ensure he gets the appropriate modifications. Organizations like The Autism Society are really helpful. Not only will you learn how to help your kiddo, you'll meet other parents in the same boat, and you'll have tools you can use when you need them. 

• You have an opportunity to cling to Jesus. I've learned more about God and been more matured by Him in the last 9 years than I ever thought possible. Yes, folks with kiddos not on spectrum also can cling to Jesus for many other reasons and I'm not minimizing that. I can say for me that having a child with ASD has been my impetus to hold on tight and cry out lots. And my son sees that - I live what I believe. I don't pretend to always know why. I just know that God is good, and He cares about my feelings. I can hold on to Him and know that everything is for His glory and for my good. For my kiddo's good, too!!! 

Again, this isn't exhaustive and there are way too many details that if I shared would leave us here FOREVER. And ever. And ever. I hope this helps or blesses someone. This isn't an easy road (really, life isn't an easy road and parenting isn't either, no matter what the situation), but it's possible. 

God makes all things possible. And God makes all things beautiful - He brings beauty from ashes.

Watching God Work

I so want to put into words what I've seen God do this week. I've seen His glory up close and personal. The problem... there are no words. The fullness in my heart is so overwhelming. The worship from my soul defies words. As much as I like to share my heart through words... well there aren't any. 

So, I won't try. I'll just say that I'm overwhelmed by Jesus. I'm overwhelmed at God's mercy in allowing me to be close as He works. 

I know why I need a glorified body before I can look at God's glory full on. In moments like these, when my heart and soul are practically bursting from me after seeing just a glimmer of my Father's hand I already feel as though my physical frame can't handle it. I cannot imagine what it will be like to see Him face to face, to see Him as He is...

So I don't really have any words, but I feel I need to share. I am in awe of God. He is magnificent.   

For such a time as this...

These words have been running through my head a lot the past few days. They come from part of a verse in the book of Esther:

"For if you keep silent at this time, relief and deliverance will rise for the Jews from another place, but you and your father's house will perish. And who knows whether you have not come to the kingdom for such a time as this?” Esther 4:14 (ESV)

The context is that the Jews are being threatened by an evil dude and Esther has been made queen. Her uncle asks her to go to the king and plead their case. Esther is afraid because if you show up uninvited and the king doesn't grant you mercy, you get killed. The words in verse 14 are those that her uncle relay to her - essentially saying, "Look, we're going to get delivered. You can be part of it or not. Don't you think it's possible that you were put here and now for a reason?"

For such a time as this...

Reading through the Bible shows us that our lives are intentional. God planned the days of our lives before we were even formed (Psalm 139:16). He has plans for us (Jeremiah 29:11). He has given us gifts to share within the body of Christ (see 1 Corinthians 12).

Knowing this makes the words, "for such a time as this..." so much deeper to me. Where I am - my job, my church, my group of friends, my interests, everything - was given to me "for such a time as this..."

This helps me sit in the tension of waiting on God. Knowing my life is on purpose, and I was planned for here and now, is comforting. It means I can trust God's timing - and in this moment I am sitting in my calling. Even though I am currently looking toward something specific (counseling), I can be present where I am, wait as the Lord sees fit, and still be able to serve the Lord in deep and meaningful ways right now. God is in the process not just the end result.

I was made - as were you - for such a time as this...

An apology to all the men I know

I'm reading a book on shame. Well, specifically, overcoming shame. It's a good book and much of it resonates with me. The author, Brene Brown - famous for her TED talks - discusses her more than a decade of research on shame. There are a lot of good things in there and I started reading it out of interest and as a source for a project I'm working on with a friend.

I didn't expect God to use a section of a chapter to completely undo me.

But He did.

The section is on how men experience shame. I'd been able to keep an emotional distance from the text, even the parts that resonated with me. But this part? Oh. My. Word. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I saw blatant sin. Sin in our culture with regard to how we treat men, sin with regard to how we acculturate our boys, and - worst of all - sin in my own heart that has helped perpetuate telling men they are not enough.

I was undone. I was (and still am!) grieved.

In Genesis, as part of the curse, God says that the woman's desire will be for the man. Most teachings I've heard and commentaries I've read note that this means that the woman would want to take over the man's place. In case you're wondering how this might manifest, it's evidenced in the song that says, "Anything you can do, I can do better." I didn't really think I felt that way, but God showed me the ugliness in my heart that says something else.

Look, my overall personality limits my ability to be overtly jerky. I'd never in a million years intentionally say something to hurt anyone, men included. But I can tell you that, despite it's rare appearance, it's been in my heart. It's subtle, and it's hidden - and yesterday God pulled it right out into the light.

There is something to be said for men fulfilling the role that God has given them. And yes, it surely seems like a lot of men have absolutely abandoned their responsibilities. However, men are still human. Men still have souls. Men can still feel the sting of hearing - implicitly or explicitly - that they are not enough. And then, when, they believe that, they act from that place. Just like we women do.

So, to the men I know - I'm really sorry. I'm sorry for the sin in my heart that has colored my thoughts at times. I'm sorry for how you've been hurt from a cultural perspective. I'm sorry how you've been hurt when I've not been sensitive.

DISCLAIMER - I know there is so much more to this topic, and so many facets. Just remember that I believe in balance, both for women and men, and I believe in truth. This post is limited in its scope and doesn't reflect how I feel about every possible scenario. If you have questions about where I stand on something I didn't cover here or want to go deeper, please reach out to me and we'll do that!

NEW NAME! The title of the blog has changed to better reflect what these posts are about, and frankly where God is taking me. I hope you continue to read my posts and dialogue with me about the content.

Proud Mama

Today I took my kiddo with me to celebrate the first birthday of a local rescue home that takes in girls who are victims of human trafficking. It was great to celebrate what is happening through the staff and volunteers who are working with girls who have had the unspeakable done to them.

I had explained to El Kiddo that these girls were horribly abused and people really hurt them (I did not explain any more deeply - he got enough to know why I would care). He was indignant that any parent would allow that to happen and that anyone would do that to someone in the first place. At the celebration there was a box where you could write encouragement to the girls. His said, "I hope you get well soon." While I know he doesn't understand what they need to heal from, he understands that healing is needed.

I was thankful he chose to write anything. I have a passionate conviction about helping others and I express that a lot, but I never tell him he has to agree or that he has to do anything. I just involve him in some of what I do and I live it out in front of him. When he took a card to write a note, it was wholly his own doing. I was so proud he cared enough to write something to hurting girls he'd probably never meet.

During the celebration they had a survivor of trafficking speak. As she told her story, I felt my heart aching for her. A beautiful Indian girl, she said, "I thought if I was just White things wouldn't be this way. I thought I would be loved and worth something." After she told her story - and her incredible story of healing in a safe house - she sat down. The celebration closed and El Kiddo grabbed me and said, "Mom, that girl said she didn't feel like she could be loved because of the color of her skin! That is so wrong! God loves her! She is special! I need to tell her!"

I looked at him. His eyes were wide open. It appalled him that she had said that she didn't think she was special. I told him I'd walk over with him so he could say whatever he wanted to... We approached her and he said, "You are special. The color of your skin doesn't matter. God loves you. I want you to know that. I heard you say you didn't think you were special, but that's not true." She thanked him and talked to him for a few minutes. She asked if she could have a hug and he gave her one of his signature bone-crushing hugs (hope she needed that chiropractic realignment...).

My eyes welled up with tears. He was genuinely grieved that she ever felt she was less than. I watched God take hold of his heart and use him to love someone who had experienced immense brokenness. As we left the event he said, "I'm glad we went. No one should be abused. I'm glad we can help."

Tonight I'm the proudest mama on the planet. Not because I've done anything other than provide an open environment where God is central and where I live what I believe. What happens in El Kiddo's heart is between him and Jesus. And when I get glimpses of God at work and see my sweet boy love well and love real... Well, I'm overjoyed. And I pray that my son becomes a man after God's own heart, loving Jesus with all he has, and loving others well - no matter how messy their lives are or have been.