The Goodness of God

 

I have long enjoyed the song “The Goodness of God”. I love the idea reminder that God is ALWAYS faithful, and ALWAYS good and ALWAYS running after me. Especially when it is hard to see tangible reminders. So, I sing the song to remember anyway.

Four years ago I was standing in church singing this song with tears just streaming down my face. I could barely get the words out. I KNEW that God was good, that God had been good to me, but in that season I was struggling to see the good. It was one of those seasons that I knew was hard when I was in it, but I couldn’t fully grasp how hard it truly was until I looked back. But there I was singing the song because I KNEW in my heart it was true, and I so desperately needed to know that the goodness of God was running after me. One of the main reasons I was clinging to the promise of this song in that season was because of intense challenges with Peter, which is going to be important in a minute.

And then sometimes the goodness of God shows up in ways that you just can’t miss.

Saturday night I had the delightful opportunity of taking Peter out on a date! We planned it all week. Peter wanted to wear fancy clothes and go to the fancy mall….and eat at Panda Express (not so fancy). We dropped off his brothers and off we went for our adventure. Peter and I had the best few hours. We ate yummy food and ice cream, we bought Legos, we rode the escalators AND the elevators. The entire time I was thinking “I never dreamed of this”. Never in my dreams for Peter 4 years ago in that hard season did I think that we would have a normal outing to the mall when he was 7. Never did I think he could read all the signs we passed in the stores. Never did I think he would look at the mall map and find our way through the mall. And there we were in this space where I could all but reach out and touch the goodness of God.

Like I knew, that the song was true that even when I couldn’t see it; the goodness of God is always running after me. I had no way of knowing that within months of that darkest night when I was crying in church that Peter’s vision would miraculously improve. I had no way of knowing that God was about to do even more than I thought to ask that Sunday in church. We didn’t deserve it. We didn’t even ask. But God was always holding us in his hands and his goodness was always running after us.

Sunday morning, we went to church and I bet you can guess the song we sang? OF COURSE, it was “The Goodness of God” because God also just likes to wink at me like that. I thought I would cry when I heard the opening chords, but I never did. I just sang and sang with the biggest smile on my face! His goodness is still running after me.

 

The Night Before Kindergarten

We have been preparing for weeks, or months, well, truly, for years (read below). Tomorrow is the day. Peter will put on his backpack, make his way down the block, get on the big kid bus, and finally go to Kindergarten.

He is ready.

My head is ready.

My heart is so not ready.

I promised myself years ago that I wouldn't totally lose it when my kids would go to Kindergarten. There are so many parents who would give anything for this moment who won't see their babies until heaven. I get mine back by dinnertime.

And I have kept that promise, yet there is also a tug at my heart with all the feelings on the night before Kindergarten. Especially for Peter....

Because 5 years ago our world was rocked by his ONH diagnosis. I have written a lot about that journey, but this week holds a special place. One of the questions I asked early on, like any mom would even though no one can exactly answer, was "what will his life be like? "what will he be able to do or not do?". Like good professionals, no one had an exact answer about the future but the one "long term" goal that was noted was main stream, general education Kindergarten with support for his vision. As he got older we learned that would mean attending a different school than his brothers. That was fine, as long as he had good support. Then a couple years ago his vision made a big leap and he was no longer in need of his white cane or learning Braille. He progressed academically in leaps and bounds. So not only is his starting general education Kindergarten tomorrow, he will be at the same school as his brothers. I never even asked or imagined and God answered anyway! So my heart is celebrating!

But more than any of my other kids, Peter has been a full time job. We met his diagnosis with our heads held high. There wasn't anything I wouldn't try or therapy I would turn away for the first 3 years of his life. I researched, called, explained, tried out new ideas like our future depended on it. Because it did. And it worked. God made little brains to be very flexible and Peter's hard work helped grow his brain in new ways. Then tomorrow, someone else has Peter for the majority of the day and that feels very very strange after the last 5 years.

Peter is also my last little boy, and while Ellie will be the very last to school, this #boymom is feeling fragile tonight. So my tears are just close to the surface as I write this.

Peter is ready to go. Peter will do great things. I said when Peter was a baby that God had a special plan for Peter because God made Peter special. I know this in my head and my heart. So I will watch him get his backpack, walk to the bus stop, and head to Kindergarten knowing that the world needs a special Peter, but there will probably be a few tears in my eyes as I walk back home.

On Redemption

Redemption is a beautiful concept. To take something, or someone, that was lost or broken or hurt and saving it or them. I can’t think of redemption without getting some tears in my eyes. I love the idea of something or someone being saved, being rescued. Maybe because I can so deeply relate to needing redemption.

I have had several moments in my life when I needed saving. Quite frankly, I need the redemption of Jesus daily. But some seasons stand out as a having a moment of redemption. When the darkness became light. When the valley path started rising to the mountains. When beauty rose from ashes and tears. Today is a day where I celebrate redemption.

It was eight years ago today that I became a mom.

It wasn’t at all the way I expected, but it was the path we came to be on. The path that led to redemption.

In fact, my plan, after a battle with infertility was to give birth on February 22, 2012. I had finally gotten pregnant in June the year prior and this was my due date. Until it wasn’t because I miscarried. Again. The events following that miscarriage showed us that the path we were to take to parenthood was the path of adoption.

The path of infertility and adoption was one of my lowest valleys. It felt dark. It felt lonely. It felt stagnant.

And then came the redemption. The saving. On the very day I thought I would give birth to a baby; one was placed in my arms. I felt the saving. I felt the weight of the darkness start to lift. I started to see the mountain path. My world had felt upside down and this little boy was turning it right side up again. I was a mom for the very first time.

The light was dawning and would continue to get brighter in this corner of my life. Parenthood would prove to have its own challenges (of course!), but my season of longing for a baby was redeemed. There was beauty rising from the ashes in my soul. My tears were tears of joy in the morning.

Adoption is considered a triad relationship: the child, the birth parents, and the adoption parents. We had a blessed opportunity to spend time with Isaac’s birth mother in the days before and after Isaac’s birth. We heard her story. We listened deeply. We cried with her. Yet, there was redemption. I don’t share her story or the beginning of Isaac’s story because they are not mine to tell, but I can say that the moment he placed was in my arms, there was a lot of redemption in the room. How could a mom not think about the woman who gave birth to her son on his birthday? She was first on my mind this morning. She gave me a gift. A gift of redemption. I hope she still feels redemption, too.

I love celebrating Isaac’s birthday. Today he opted to spend the day at home with his family playing with Legos. I am listening to him banter with his brothers as I write this. The story wasn’t at all what I expected when I wanted a baby. But this story has redemption and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Changing perspectives: Leaning In

In early 2013, I had a toddler and had just found out I was pregnant with my second child. I owed a small business that did government consulting and, up to this point, had worked full time. But in that season, I was winding down some of my work and gear up to be more involved in the care and keeping of (soon to be) two little boys. I was thrilled with the direction my life was taking. As much as I loved my work, I loved being a wife and mom and running our little household.

At this same time a very popular book was released. It made all the morning talk show rounds. It was showing us a new way for women to look at their careers. It was a call to be more in the workplace. It was a call, as the title shared with us, to Lean In. Sheryl Sandberg’s book was a hot topic among my friends, especially working friends. It sent many of them in to a frenzy of how to, once again, figure out how to have it all. Whatever they did with their families, they better not “lean out” at work. To be honest, I didn’t read the book because what my friends were saying about it was stressful enough. I was clearly in the “lean out” group. It was where I wanted to be, but all of a sudden, with this new hit phrase of “lean in”, I was starting to question what value I would have should I continue down the path I was on to move more towards staying home with my babies.

Fast forward three years and I now had three little boys and had recently moved. Over the past year I had done very little paid work and was trying to decide if I would go back and look for more work. That decision was, in a way, made for me when we learned about Peter’s neurological condition and birth defect. I was definitely needed full time at home with all of his therapies and doctor visits so I closed the doors of my company. I had officially “leaned out”.

Lots of feelings and emotions and thoughts have filled the last 3 years since I closed the doors of my company. I love being a mom. I love being home with my kids. I miss making money. I miss interacting with the technical side of my brain. I don’t miss the politics of work or the stress of finding contracts. I still feel this little tug of guilt that I am not doing “enough” as a stay at home mom. How do you measure success? Accomplishment? Could another mom have “done it all”?

Then a trusted advisor handed me an article that reframed it all. On the day before Mother’s Day this year the Wall Street Journal had an article titled “Coming to Appreciate Stay-at-Home Moms”. It was written by a childless career woman who had recently landed on some hard times. She was amazed to find out that in her time of crisis it was her friends who were stay at home moms who had the time and space in their lives to help her, to listen to her, to care about her wellbeing. They were simply doing for her what they did for their families. As the writer put it “they were leaning in – to people, not organizations.” They were creating the most important ingredient for a better future…human capital.

Wow. That flipped my narrative from 2013 right upside down. I certainly had leaned out from the corporate table, but I have very much been leaning in to family. My last few years have been spent in countless therapies, preschool drop offs, playgroups, dinner making, Target runs, diaper changes, and many sleepless nights with, and over, the kids. I have been leaning in very very far. I have invested these years in my family, in raising good humans. And that is a very good and worth endeavor. I am leaning…exactly where I am supposed to be.

Praying for our kids...and their education

Those sweet kids are all heading back to school in the next month and that transition is high in my heart and mind right now. In the last seven and a half years since becoming a mom, I have received more parenting advice than I knew was possible. A couple of those actually stand out, have stood through the test of time, and have continued to help me be a better parent. Not surprising for something that has staying power, both were about praying, seeking and receiving God’s wisdom regarding our children. 

One of these best pieces of wisdom was from an older wise mom regarding how she approached the education of her children. I revisit this every school year as we are preparing our kids, minds, hearts, and home to begin the school year again. 

Each year this woman and her husband would pray over the method of education for each of their three sons for that school year. She knew each child was unique, and in a unique season of life, and that one style of education may not be right for all of them. She shared that one year she had a child in public school, a child in private school, and a child she home schooled (she was a busy momma!). She knew her children would grow and thrive in these spaces. I never knew if she had a preferred education ideology, if she had always planned to home school, or if supporting public education was a core value for her. It didn’t matter. She had prayed over her children and had each one where God said each one would thrive.

When our first child was a little over a year old, I was sitting a table full of moms and was asked “what will you be doing for school for Isaac?”. I had no answer. He was ONE! I must have looked shocked because the follow up was “you NEED to get him on the waiting lists now for the best schools”. Oh boy. I was then treated to each mom telling me the exact educational plan for each family. None of these families even had school age children yet but they had such an important sounding plan. The words I had heard spoken to me earlier came to mind, and not trying to be flippant, I said “well, my husband and I will pray over our son for each school year and place him where we believe God will have him thrive”. That comment took me right out of the comparison plan for education.

We have continued to pray specifically for the best way to educate our kids. Even though our oldest son is only heading to the second grade this fall, we have already made choices we wouldn’t have made if we were not specifically praying for each child each year. Even this year, I made a choice about one of our kids without praying about it, I made what I thought was the "logical" choice, and then it started to not feel right. When we prayed over the decision, we made a completely different choice...one that I can see will help that child thrive and grow.

And we know that God will work out whatever that best place is. Honestly, given our family resources, I am pretty thankful that public school has been a good fit so far. God gave us a home in a fantastic school district for our specific children before we even knew we needed what they had to offer. But, if God calls us to home school one of the kids or send them to a private school, we can trust that he will also provide the necessary resources to make those happen. I can pray with the assurance that God loves my kids even more than I do and He will show us the path He has for each of them and will provide the way to get there.

Jesus Loves Peter. This I know.

It has been a hard 10 days as Peter’s mom.

It has been a hard 3.5 years as Peter’s mom. It has been almost exactly 3 years since we learned that the symptoms we were seeing in Peter were the result of a congenital abnormality in his brain. Over time we adjusted and Peter is just Peter. He is more work than a typical child. But he is just as wonderful and perfect and loving as any little guy.

But sometimes it just gets hard for a season. Not necessarily because of Peter but because of the world he lives in. One that administrators seem to rule. A world where he gets the short end of the stick and he didn’t even do anything wrong.

So, it is hard to be his mom because I see the injustice and the hurt and the hard on my boy.

In the last 10 days there have been insurance problems leading to his therapy being cancelled indefinitely. There have been school problems where his heart and spirit were ignored, even by generally well-meaning adults. I have cried so many tears. I have made so many phone calls. I have fought so hard for him. Some I can fix and some I am still trying. I don’t really ever stop trying!

BUT, through it all I have to remember something.

That God loves Peter even more than I do. That God knows what Peter needs even more than I do. That God sees where this is all going and I just don’t.

The night we first got his diagnosis was one of the scariest of my life. I can recall those emotions in a heartbeat. I cried as I rocked him to sleep that night. And then through my tears I tried to sing his normal nighttime songs: You Are My Sunshine and Jesus Loves You. I barely got through the first one. He will ALWAYS be my sunshine. Nothing that the doctors say can change that. Then I sang “Jesus loves Peter, this I know” and I couldn’t keep singing. Because it was true. He does love Peter. Not Peter with a perfect “normal” brain, He loves Peter with a “not quite formed” brain. He loves Peter more than I do. I clung to that fact in that moment.

I have held that fact close for these years of Peter’s life. God knows what therapy Peter needs. God will help us find a way to pay for it. God will help guide the teachers at school. God has held Peter and God will not stop now. To believe anything less is to let the Devil win.

I still have a lot of phone calls and emails and forms. There is some work on the ground that has to be done. But I will continue to pray and ask for what Peter needs. I don’t know what his future holds (as much as I would like some answers even in the short term) but I know who holds his future. And the one that hold his future is the Jesus who loves him. This is I know.

Seasons of transition

I like to think of life in terms of seasons. I love the changing of the seasons in our physical world. I am not even sure I have a favorite season because I am ready for each one and embrace the change.

So I also think of my life in the same way...seasons that come and change and go and flow together and grow from each other. Some of them are seasons of excitement (hello, wedding), some are seasons of big change (hello, new baby), some are seasons of sadness (goodbye, dear friend), and some are highlighted by the transitions that they will bring to our lives.

I have been knowing this current season of transition was coming, at least a part of it, for the better part of two years. I knew that the end of November 2018 would mark a dramatic change in the life of one of my children, and by extension, my life as his mother would also have a large shift. I knew that it would not be a quick and easy process to get him through the transition. That my job as his advocate and voice would be exponentially larger through this season. To get him to and through the transition.

It is a season I have looked ahead to with both excitement and dread. Maybe because I knew it had a date associated with it even two years ago, I have had a lot of time to think about it and ask others who have gone through it and think of how it would play out. I knew it would be a hard season, even with the good that it could bring. There was no doubt in my mind that this end of 2018 would be mentally and emotionally taxing.

And now it is here and, to be totally honest with you, it has been harder than I even thought it would be. I have been trying to figure out why and I think I figured it out today. Because I only thought of that one aspect of life when I thought about this season and now I am here and there are SO MANY other things going on. Life doesn't happen in a vacuum.

See, my vision impaired toddler is going to be 3 years old this month. It has been a long and hard 3 years. Some days I am amazed we have made it here and he is mostly thriving. But age 3 signals a HUGE change in how kiddos like Peter are provided public support services . We will go from home based therapy to therapy based in the public school system. On his 3rd birthday, he will begin developmental preschool 4 days a week. He will be away from home for 3+ hours on those 4 days. That is a big deal for him at this age. For me, getting all the services lined up is a fight. It was a known fight and it has already had some big fights (and wins, so that is good, but still). It is making me tired.

I knew I would need to focus on this transition for these months. It is always on my mind. But so are the zillion other details of life with a family of 6. The baby had eye surgery last week! We are sharing our story in support of one of our therapy clinics on Saturday night...at a black tie affair with over 400 people in attendance. My husband has been in a state of transition with his job for the last few months. Life is so big right now.

In the midst of it all, I had some personal goals I wanted to achieve. Those who know what they are have been encouraging, but it has also made it almost feel like a bigger burden. And I am getting so tired.

So I forgot a key component to making it through a season of transition. I forgot that I need to give myself extra grace. That some things will slide. That I will have to unclench my fists and let go of a few things. That I can't do it all. That I have a high need for sleep that increases with stress. That I live my daily life with depression not super far behind and I need to be taking care of myself to keep it where it belongs.

I have cried a lot this week. That is a sure sign something isn't right. But it is getting better tonight. I remembered grace today. I talked to my people about how I feel. One of them encouraged me to remember the season. One of them reminded me that lists will help me. One of them brought me red roses.

I am remembering my season and that I need grace. I am smelling my flowers. And here is my list....

1. Remember grace
2. Get sleep
3. Do what I can for Peter
4. Let God do the rest for Peter
5. Set my other big projects aside for 2019
6. Exercise, meditation, and focused breathing every day
7. Embrace the chaos
8. Do one thing each day just for me...reading, writing, coffee, something

Above all, remember this is a season. It isn't forever. It will change like all those before and after. I will continue to grow and remember grace and hopefully look back on this season as one that birthed great new seasons to come.