Rushing into Burning Buildings

I am not sure why I have the unquenchable desires that I have.  Of course I believe and know that God placed them within me.  But, surely if I were the one examining myself and passing out desires, “the insane need to rush into burning building and rescue people” is not one that necessarily matches my personality.  Or maybe it does and I just don’t realize it about myself.  There are plenty of things I am fearful about; such as drowning and applying DEET.

However, I can’t seem to escape it. I struggle with others who want to put out a “stop sign” or a “do not pass sign” in front of me.  I remember when Katrina hit.  I sat in our home office with Todd sobbing and begging him to please let us load up the van with food and water and just start driving there to help. 

Several times while the passenger in a car I have witnessed car accidents and once saw a man jump off of an overpass to end his life.  No amount of begging and pleading from me could convince the driver that we NEEDED to stop.

  “Others already have, we will just be in the way, we can’t do any good…” replies make me want to mimic my four year old and put my hands over my ears and shout, “I can’t hear you!”

This week when the earthquake hit Haiti I slowly started to hear about it and when the enormity of the situation was realized that unquenchable desire started burning in my chest.  Haiti has had my attention since 2008.  I watched as the hurricanes hit that summer and sat memorized at the heroic efforts of many nations, people, and organizations including The Global Orphan project rush in to aid and rescue and bring hope along with them.

By Tuesday I was pretty useless.  Now that I have been to Haiti and have found partners for Kimmy’s House it is all the more personal.  My inability to DO SOMETHING with my hands and feet reminded me of how Big and Self Sufficient God is, and how little I am.  That gives me peace and rest.   All day long I prayed and waited for news.  Everyone was trying to tell me that it is not a good idea to go.  How that it would do more harm than good for others to rush there without supervision, it is not safe… I KNOW THAT—But do you know that I can’t stop the overwhelming desire and now your list of “reasons” sounds an awful lot like the annoying noise of trash can lids clanging together?

I heard of others who were going to fly down and help with relief and search and rescue and prayed that God would know my heart and miraculously lay it on someone’s heart to invite me to come with their group.  No chance, so I continued to pray.  I have been following the blogs of the Castillo Family with Northwest Haiti Christian Mission and also the Global Orphan project and specifically praying as I read personal firsthand accounts of the situation.

I can agree with others and think of just as many reasons why it would be best for me NOT to go.  But I also look at my abilities and my limitation and know that given the opportunity I could think of hundreds of things I COULD do.  I am not picky really.  If it is helping with mass burials, transporting people, passing out water, applying compresses, helping people search, I really don’t care, I just want to be used. I just want to go and offer hope.

Still nothing was quenching my NEED to GO.  I received an e-mail on Thursday from a friend who is attending disaster relief training.  She wanted to know if Kimmy’s House could connect her to the folks in Haiti and if her group once trained would be needed.  I typed back a quick response that I can look into it and but was equally interested to know if I could attend the training.

I checked with Todd first. When I asked him if I could go to the training I qualified to him that I was not really asking to go for training.  I was really asking for the chance to GO once I complete the course.  Perhaps that means Haiti in the near future or whenever the next disaster strikes somewhere that is paired with an unquenchable desire. What I was asking from him was permission to let me go!

YEA!  I can attend the training; apparently once family members approve all one needs is a background check, a willing heart and the training.  (Not sure which hierarchal order those fall into.)  I passed the information onto another friend who had confided in me her overwhelming desires to go to Haiti too.  We had to select from three types of training; Chainsaw, assessment or food.

I selected chainsaws. 

Ok that is a big fat joke.  I am much too small and loud repetitive noises drive me crazy.  No one wants a frustrated small woman, confused by the chaos, holding a powerful deadly weapon. 

I am eagerly awaiting the assessment preparation and to understand WHY I have not been able to go in times past.  There must be a reason.  I tend to want to blame everyone else who wants to limit me.  But perhaps just the desire is really not enough.   I could ponder that I was being saved from danger or that perhaps I would have been in the way and useless to help.  I don’t know.

I have to also acknowledge that while I get frustrated at the brakes that others want to put on my crazy desires, I know that I am loved, people want to protect me and Todd needs me around for our family.  I appreciate that. 

But Todd did give me permission to go to training so he must trust God more than he wants me to have to stay when I NEED to go.  Plus, I let him go sea kayaking, bungee jumping, and do crazy adventurous things.  Isn’t it only fair?

Side note:  Many of you have given directly to organizations working in Haiti already, and others have trusted Kimmy’s House to pass along your financial burden of helping.  Thank you!  We will continue to direct funds there on your behalf.

Haiti Update

I want to share as much as I can about Haiti.

Kimmy’s House has just begun to enter into a partnership with Northwest Haiti Christian Mission and The Global Orphan Project for the purpose of caring for special needs orphans, children and families in Haiti.

Groundbreaking for the Special Needs Orphanage in Bonneau has not even begun and already my heart aches for the people there.  I am torn and finding myself wishing I could manipulate time and space and “poof” myself to Haiti to do SOMETHING with my hands and feet and heart.

I yearn to offer HOPE for the many that are without power, communication or access to information about their loved ones.  Basic resources were already scarce before 4:52 pm Tuesday when the earth quaked and despair deepened.

We have been following the blogs of both partners to gain some inside insight into the situation.  Many of you have already called Kimmy’s House to see what you can do to help.

I wish we had more to tell you.  I just pass on the latest from NWHCM and GO and encourage you to follow them, they have been in the inner working of building friendships, churches, orphanages and strengthening and feeding communities for many years. 

Courtney Pierce, the director of The Miriam Center that cares for terminal and special needs kids reports that they were all unharmed.  They are in St. Louis Du Nord and felt the quake but no physical damage was done to the area. 

The mission center that houses the orphanage has become a gathering place for Haitians in the area not only to watch the television news and internet media to stay informed, but also a place to grieve, and hope and strengthen as a community.  The community/family of Americans and Haitians are leaning on each other for support through this tragedy.

Courtney has had word but not confirmation that there are 65 terminal and handicapped children in Port Au Prince that could ultimately be brought to her.  She will need an influx of donations to provide for their immediate basic needs. 

The Global Orphan project has not been able to make contact with over 200 of their orphans and caregivers near the epicenter of the quake.

Both NWHCM and GO are providing frontline help and relief.

All are asking everyone to pray, which we often tritely say as “it is the least I can do.”  I believe it is the most we can do. 

Both organizations are accepting donations to go for immediate relief and to bring in the food, water and supplies that will be needed to provide care.

I wish to direct you all to each of them as they are the ones with connections and long time relationships with the Haitian families. 

Some donations have already come in online to Kimmy’s House today, and I imagine more will continue. We will direct 100% of incoming funds (unless otherwise noted by you) to their organizations and further the help they can provide. 

If Courtney does receive the extra children we will direct the funds specifically to their care.

Thank you for the concerns and please continue to pray and stay informed.

Praying for Haiti and the people caring for the nation after the Earthquake

We have been keeping track of Haiti and her people through the following blogs of folks on the frontlines of caring for the country.  PLEASE keep current not just through the news but read these personal blogs and pray for them as they are meeting the spiritual and physical needs of the people.

http://castilloavektimoun.wordpress.com/

http://theglobalorphanproject.org/?cat=3

Thank you

Kimmy’s House Winter 2009 Newsletter

  

 

*It begins with whisper 

*Follows with a connection

*And ultimately ends in  purpose. 

  

Dear friends and supporters of Kimmy’s House,

 What began in 2005 with a connection in Hyderabad, India grew into the first home for special needs orphans to be called “Kimmy’s House.”

Hyderabad, India

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

From 2005-mid 2009 Kimmy’s House was the name on the orphanage, on a plot of land that takes care of twenty to fifty special needs kids.

 What also began in 2005 was the whisper of a much larger vision and plan for caring for special needs orphans.

 Globally

 God confirmed His whisper to us this year. 

 Looking back we see the first orphanage as our “training wheels.” 

 In order to see the bigger vision, God took off our training wheels.

 It was quite painful.  As it usually is with riding a bike, you spend more time off the bike trying to figure out balance, braking and speed.

 The tools that took off the training wheels were unfamiliar to us.  We usually think of a wrench and screw driver for this sort of job.  We began to have reoccurring concerns about the

 Quality, Sustainability and Accountability.

We took our concerns to the Indian Director and asked to discuss and resolve each of them Biblically.

To our shock he told us that he was upset at our inquiring and wanted to discontinue our partnership.

Because so many of you send monthly or annual sponsorships of the children we have FAITHFULLY CONTINUED to pass your funds on to the children.

 Rest assured YOU provide shelter, food, clothing, and onsite care for the children in the photos that decorate your refrigerator.

We wouldn’t have it any other way.

With a bitter-sweet ending, the training wheels are off and we now have to close Volume One of the Kimmy’s House story.  We say goodbye to the physical location (land, buildings and other amenities that we helped acquire) that we’ve all either visited or seen in photos and described in the stories of the children.

This investment in Kingdom Work is not “lost”, but left in the hands of the Indian Director and his staff and supported by another ministry. 

What we learned in the first years is invaluable.  Please read “The Bigger Picture” below so we can share with you the transformation of Kimmy’s House from one home to our global concept.

We’ve forever etched in our minds the memory of their radiant, smiling faces on their less than perfect bodies, as we sang with, played with, prayed with, worshiped with them….and touched and hugged them.

Beginning in January we will direct all our funds to our new partners and projects.  If it is your desire to continue to support your child in India PLEASE contact us info@kimmyshousem.com

 Sincerely,

KH Board of Directors

Shannon Neel, Steve Kranker, Michelle Kranker, Carol Record, Jennifer Janz

New India Partner

Board members Michelle and Steve Kranker’s connection to Kimmy’s House began with a two- week-long visit to India in March 2008, visiting both our KH orphanage and the Nireekshana (Hope) HIV/AIDS Clinic in Hyderabad.

The Kranker’s had originally planned to spend just the morning at the Nireekshana clinic.    After being there for several hours, they were in such awe of the loving, compassionate volunteers that they decided to cancel their plane reservations and ultimately spent five days volunteering in the clinic, meeting patients and most importantly forming a friendship with Dr. Sujai Suneetha and his wife Dr. Lavanya.

Dr. Sujai and Dr. Lavanya Suneetha & Nireekshana clinic

Dr. Sujai happened to be in Colorado in September. During the visit I (Shannon), along with Michelle and Steve, could sense a growing connection to the work of Dr. Sujai and our organization.

We have begun to support ten special needs children whose parents are patients at the clinic. 

Kimmy’s House is providing medical, therapeutic and nutritional support for the families so that the children can remain in their intact families. 

This type of assistance will transform communities as they learn to accept and care for children who might otherwise be discarded or abandoned.

Imagine the changes that will take place when special needs children are genuinely valued, educated and cared for in their own homes.  Parents will be given support and taught how to meet the needs of their special children. 

THEN…

Neighborhoods, communities, city’s being changed one special needs child at a time.

We are very excited to help in this unique way. 

Nireekshana also has seven orphanages that have opened for children whose parents are either ill or have previously died from HIV/AIDS.  As God leads there is room to begin adding special needs orphans to one of these existing homes and Kimmy’s House will begin funding their care as well.

CELEBRATING DISABILITIES

On December 5^th Kimmy’s House sent funds for Dr. Sujai to have a party at a special needs school to honor World Disability Day.  Twenty-five children enjoyed games, cake and sweets while being the honored guests.

Additionally on December 6^th and 14^th children who are visually impaired were treated to a party in their honor. 

The Nireekshana clinic staff put on a program served a meal and passed out gifts to over 700 children (including their families)

Our partnership with Dr. Sujai and Dr. Lavanya and the Nireekshana Clinic will be a rich journey together.

We value the input they have on the needs of the community and how to best care for the children with special needs that pass through their doors.

  

2009 Haiti Visit

People from Kimmy’s House, Northwest Haiti Christian Mission and The Global Orphan Project praying on the land in Bonneau, Haiti where we will build a 100 person facility for special needs people

Imagine having been given a blueprint — Plans for an amazing “Vision”

Imagine meeting others one by one who have also been given a copy.

Welcome to our world.

When we look around the globe and identify those with the other copies we know where we need to “build.”

From June through November we had “blueprint conversations” with five other organizations.

Imagine.

Together we can begin to construct what is on the Masters copy.

It is BIGGER than all of us knew.

Did you know that YOU are a part of it as well?

Hang on…this is going to be huge!

The Bigger Picture

Our first orphanage in Hyderabad, India

Once we telescoped out and lost our close up view of the original orphanage near Hyderabad, India; Kimmy’s House, Volume two became clear.

The idea of Kimmy’s House changed from a physical HOUSE to a globe changing CONCEPT on how to care for special needs children and orphans.

In my own home, I often use the expression; “Welcome to my world,” when others observe something typical for us but unusual to them.

In my world Kimmy is not hidden.  She stands out! I do not feel cursed because I have her.  I feel amazed and beyond blessed.

But that was not always the case.  Perhaps I was more like the Haitian mom who sees her child as a curse, than I want to admit.

When I was twenty weeks pregnant with her, routine prenatal blood tests showed a 1:12 chance of her having Down Syndrome. Multiple follow up ultra sounds confirmed the blood work, as well as detected severe heart and organ deformities. 

My initial response was one of shock and disbelief.  The pretty picture of “what my family will look like” that I had sketched in my head was replaced with one I didn’t draw myself.

(And WOW the second picture is IMMEASURABLY better than my hastily scribbled one)

“What did I do to deserve this?” 

“How will I raise a child with all these complications, I am not skilled for this.”

“What will people think of me?”

In my world I had a personal transformation of what is a curse and what is a blessing.  

Learning that blessings arrive in various packages. Kimmy, 4 mos old, 2002

As I learned what kind of medications she needed, found doctors who could dispel the mystery of her illnesses, massaged and strengthened her muscles, I began to understand a whole new world. 

One where Unconditional Loves resides, Joy is expressed, Peace is displayed, and walls are torn down.

In this photo: Chitti, from KH’s first home, teaching us that JOY is just one expression of God’s love. When was the last time YOU felt this much JOY? Chitti is deaf and mute but still “hears and feels” music. I am thankful to have met her and share her beauty with you. If she makes you weep, that is a GOOD thing.

Kimmy knows she is as important as everyone else, and she treats everyone equally.  Kimmy sees no color, race or status; she does not recognize limitations or barriers.  She sees faces and starts relationships.

Kimmy wants to be recognized, taught, valued and understood.

Kimmy wants to teach everyone around her things.

Kimmy, 2009. Survivor of 23 surgeries (so far). Teaching eveyone BIG things

 BIG things.

Like — showing us what God cares about.

Kimmy has freed herself to be herself. She is not worried about what the world tells her she needs to be.

She lives life to the fullest and she is BOLD!

In watching her, I have learned what I need, and what the world needs. The world needs to have a transformation and God will use special needs children, one at a time to do it.

(And in a million other ways too, this is just the one I am privileged to understand and share with you!)

In other countries, with poverty beyond what we will ever experience, and caste systems that set limited values on people, and restricted access to the basic necessities of life, we can understand why special needs children will become abandoned and hidden.

If you have seven children and only enough food for four, you have to decide each daywhich four will get fed.  Out of circumstance the four that get fed will be the strongest and most capable.

Can Kimmy’s House as a CONCEPT on how to care for special needs children transform a family, a community, perhaps even a culture? 

I believe it can.

The bigger picture contains so many things. It begins with:

*Helping families HIGHLIGHT their children instead of hiding them.

*Building orphanages with the best possible medical and therapeutic care for those that have truly become orphaned.

*Loving the scared mom who doesn’t understand WHY her child is different.  Support and teach her how to take care of her child’s needs.  Help her to see that what she considers a curse is a rare blessing.

*Teach her that the definition of WHY is because God desires to make Himself known through her child.

*Love the family and provide them with enough food to feed all their children so they won’t have to decide who eats and who dies.  Provide medical and therapeutic care in their home.

*In return those families will be empowered to teach others.

That is what we know so far about the bigger picture…

…and we keep discovering more.

…and we keep finding partners who have the same desire and know their cultures and want to transform their communities.

It is going to be HUGE!

How do you get stitched in?

If you are hearing a whisper, feeling a connection, or looking for a purpose, then we want to hear from you!

 There are so many ways to be involved: we don’t even know them all yet!   Check out some of the things others are doing.

The youth at Green Mountain Presbyterian Church organized a talent show in March. They raised $600 while singing, dancing and performing.

Foothills Elementary had a two week long “Penny War” and collected $2000 worth of coins

Friends collect supplies, toys & clothes to send along with the teams that travel.

 Children at Christ the Rock Community Church in Port Orchard, WA raised $800 in a month to give to the playground fund.

Matt and Laura Briger married in June.  Instead of registering for personal gifts, the asked family and friends to buy things from our gift catalog instead.  Over $9000.00 was gifted to orphans in their honor.

Fourth Grader, Emilya Ramsey sold handmade crafts as part of a class business project and donated the $350 profit to Kimmy’s House.

Michelle Prays for the children and the needs of Kimmy’s House

A team of volunteers help to fold, stuff, lick, stamp and label mailings.

We have lots of Give and Go needs…Got Accounting Skills to lend? (We need a volunteer bookkeeper.) Want to use your talents & travel to meet the kids?  shannon@kimmyshouse.com

On October 3, 2008 Kimmy Neel’s much loved “Papa Kirby” went to heaven.

The Bill Kirby Memorial Fund was set up in his memory to build a playground for a Kimmy’s House Home

So far $7.390.00 has been contributed!

GIVE TO FUND

We anticipate building a handicap accessible playground in 2010 on the new land in Bonneau, Haiti. 

If you are interested in traveling to help, please contact us!

 Merry Christmas from Kimmy’s House to yours!

The Things Irresponsible People Do!

I really can’t believe the things that irresponsible people will do.

Give me a break.  Can you believe how irresponsible it is for a nine year old to want to raise money to help the poor?  Gee, if his parents would just have said “NO! you can’t be friends with Sam.  Sam is a grown man and he is homeless.”  

Forget about the fact that the reason Sam became homeless is because a drunk driver took the life of his wife and kids while she was driving home from a medical conference.  The depression Sam had after his entire family was gone in a flash was so severe he couldn’t get out of bed and get to work like a responsible person.  Or get to the mailbox and see all the bills coming in that he couldn’t pay. 

Can you believe that this nine year old boy’s parent’s take him to a church where they let Sam teach kids church?  I bet the kids’ minds are being poisoned.  They might start becoming friends with Sam and the friends Sam brings to church.

Can you believe that when the nine year old was much younger and more naive at the irresponsible age of seven (and then a second time when he was eight) asked if he could take three days off of school to go to Juarez, Mexico and build houses for the poor. 

Come on mom and dad. Really? There are gangs and drug wars going on there.  Are you really going to drive your son (with a group of 12 others) across the border when Homeland Security is warning people not to go?

How irresponsible are you, risking your freedom and comfort and personal money to go pay for and build a house for a family of eight living in a collection of scrap lumber.  Someone call child services please!  Can you imagine?  That mom, she probably even made a scrapbook about the trip so that her younger kids will want to grow up and be irresponsible and ask to miss three days of education too.  Sheesh!

If the parents of this nine year old would just be wiser and say “NO” when it is cold outside and he and his seven year old sister and four year old brother ask if they can make cupcakes and drive around to find people holding signs and give them out.  And you will not believe this…not only do they make the cupcakes and drive around.  The family actually lets the kids GET OUT OF THE CAR and go give HUGS to the friendly folks with signs when they deliver the cupcakes.  And you know what? The seven year old sister has Down Syndrome.  Can you believe they let such a vulnerable child associate with people who hold up signs on street corners?

The temperatures last night were in the teens.  IN THE TEENS and there were about 200 irresponsible homed people out on Park Avenue West and Larimer sleeping in boxes. 

And get this; this will really get your blood boiling.  There were irresponsible homeless people that gave up a night in a shelter to help host the www.anightinabox.com.  These folks sacrificed a night out to help teach the homed people their true needs.

I have to tell you what really got to me was seeing Shelly.  Shelly is a homeless woman who could have been at a shelter for the night and she had spent the day setting up the event tent, and the port-a-potties for the homed people to come sleep in her backyard.  Let me tell you one of the crazy things this woman did, besides extending her friendship, faith and life situation with the group.  One of those homed people got sick in the port a potty.  He got sick sooner than he could get the lid of the seat up, so he got sick all over the place, but in the wrong place.  Shelly used her last water bottles and found a roll of paper towels and went and cleaned the port a potties for the homed people.  And never said a word about it. Sneaky person that Shelly, what is she trying to teach us anyway?  Something about service?

And that nine year old who slept out to raise money for the poor and sacrifice a night of comfortable sleep was not the only young one wandering the area that night.  There were at least a dozen kids under the age of thirteen who emptied their piggy banks.  And met Shelly.

Prior to the event the parents let this boy walk the streets in his own neighborhood AFTER DARK asking people for donations to give him.  They also let him embarrass himself by talking to his principle, his doctor, and strangers to tell them he wanted to do this.  They let him beg for donations instead of selling  Gold C books  and over priced wrapping paper for the fundraisers going on at school.

They also let him INVITE other people to join him.

At the event there was an auction to raise some more money. 

The homed people didn’t just spend the night in the box, they went shopping! 

About 10 people bought art work from Rick.  Rick is a homeless artist.  Instead of selling his pieces and keeping the profits, he donated them to Providence Ministries.  Imagine how many pack of cigarettes he sacrificed.  The nine year old went and spent his pocket dollars on one of Ricks sketches. 

I hope they don’t let him frame it and commemorate the event.  It would take up room on the shelf next to all the free trophy’s he gets at the end of EVERY soccer season.

And if that is not enough this A Night in a Box event had the audacity to host a homeless forum with a Q and A time, a transitional housing forum, let kids hold lighted candles during the vigil to honor the 168 people who died on the streets last year, and they took people on a tour of the Triangle. 

The CRACK triangle. 

At 11:00 PM at night. 

When people without houses were out and about. 

They even looked them in the eyes and talked with a few of “them.”    

Oh and speaking of the transitional housing forum and auction.  A young woman shared her experience from becoming addicted to meth at the age of 12 and the next fifteen years through her life today after completing two years at the Champa House, a ministry of Denver Rescues Mission that provides transitional housing for single moms.  While the moms are getting sober and putting lives back together they also get support services, counseling, education, parenting skills, mentoring and more. 

This mom has just graduated and found an affordable apartment after getting a job.  She has the apartment but not much furniture.  At the auction, a new full sized mattress and box spring set had been donated.  One of those homed irresponsible people out in 20 degree weather bid $350 for the mattress set and then gave it to the woman who had shared her experience with the group earlier in the night.

Can someone please remind this man that HIS KIDS have a WII on their Dear Santa letter?  It is item number 14.  Instead of getting them a WII he spent his money on an ex-meth addict.  Hello, he could have put the new mattress on his kids bed and given the woman the perfectly good one with all the pee stains on it. 

What is this world coming too?

How about that Bob guy?  You know the nice, talkative man who comes to church and parks his shopping cart out front?  And then walks in giving hugs to everyone, even the ones who drive up in forty thousand dollar SUV’s.  He is so rude to hug rich people with his dirty clothes.  Can you believe he also stayed out instead of going to get a bed at the shelter? Instead he let all the homed folks know what he keeps in his shopping cart.  Then he gave them all hugs before they snuggled into their $300 sleeping bags.  What was he thinking spreading such love and kindness to people who spend much of their life putting up walls around them so that no one will hug them? 

Steve, he is another irresponsible one.  He has a family of five, a nice home in Denver, one in the mountains and a vacation rental in Mexico.  He has been out of work for most of the year.  He talked a bunch of folks and teenagers to come spend a night in a box with him. 

Not because the homed people were going to pretend to be homeless. 

NO ONE WAS OUT THERE TO PLAY A GAME OF  “pretend house.”  I mean “pretend I don’t have a house.” 

Steve, spend the better part of 3 months to help plan the event, then 12 hours on Friday setting up lighting, shoveling  a parking lot, getting fire extinguishers and first aid kits, putting chairs around, setting up boxes, making friends. All so that homed people could come and learn a few things.

Oh and if you ask Steve how he heard about A Night in a Box, he will tell you a nine year old boy that goes to school with his sons invited him.  I hope he realizes he is only encouraging his irresponsible parents by saying yes and then helping out. 

Imagine such irresponsibility leading to grown-ups seeing how simple it is to step out and DO something?  If you can see through the eyes of a nine year old, whose mind is free of criticism and judgment of others and learn that you have the power to do something.  Even if “something” is sleeping out in a box in the cold to raise money and pass it along. And it can be done without fear of failure or fear of rejection by asking “bigger people” like his Doctor’s, teachers, principals, friends, and yes even strangers to join the fun!

I am writing this blog entry today because my nine year old son was featured on several news casts and this article: http://www.9news.com/news/article.aspx?storyid=128222&catid=339 apparently created a stir of comments.  I have not read the comments.  I was just told from several friends yesterday that the majority vote is negative against Caleb’s efforts.  Also that many comments suggest I am irresponsible.  Instead of reading the reviews and feeling pressure to defend myself I thought it would be easier to agree and tell about all those other irresponsible people out there. 

And if anyone out there is reading this and you feel ok about admitting you might not be responsible all the time go ahead and make a HUGE donation at www.anightinabox.com just put Caleb Neel when it asks for the name of the “champion” (I can let the website designer know that he should make the “Champion” button read “Irresponsible person” instead, so that it is more accurate. 

If you are lucky enough to be a responsible person, go ahead give just a little.  It is ok.

Caleb would like to meet his goal of begging for $6000 so that he can put that towards the organizations total of $100,000 to help meet the REAL needs of his friends who are poor, fatherless, homeless or addicted.

Video news footage of Caleb’s story and purpose of Night in a box: http://www.thedenverchannel.com/video/21874017/index.html

Seven I AM Statements

On October second while Todd and I were in Mole De Saint Nichols, Haiti we entered onto some property that was for sale. 

We entered through a gate.

The front of the property was “fenced” in by a row of closely planted trees.  The gate was a grid of leftover lumber.  The lock was a tattered rope.

The Gate

As we entered I heard in my head.

“I am the gate.  All who enter in will be saved”

It is a familiar voice to me.  It is a familiar verse to me.

The verse is from John 10 in the Bible where Jesus reveals himself to his followers as The Gate.

Therefore Jesus said again, “I tell you the truth, I am the gate for the sheep.”

“I am the gate; whoever enters through me will be saved. He will come in and go out, and find pasture.”

“The watchman opens the gate for him, and the sheep listen to his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out.”

“When he has brought out all his own, he goes on ahead of them, and his sheep follow him because they know his voice.”

It was a comfort to me.  I did not ponder too much about specifically what God was telling me.  Simply, He was reminding me He is the gate.

That Simple reminder started an immediate challenge for me. (Later as I reflected on the moment I discovered more of a promise from the incident and the words that I heard as we passed through.)

“Look for me as I AM”.

In Bible Study Fellowship, (BSF), this year we are studying the book of John.  I have studied it before and have found a treasure trove just in how John writes.  His creative authorship reveals many things in groups of sevens.  I wonder if John himself was conscious of doing that or if it happened as the Holy Spirit inspired him to write his chronicle of the life of Christ.

Scattered in the 21 chapters there are seven names of Jesus, seven miracles, seven witnesses, and seven “I AM” statements.

I was already aware of this when He reminded me He was The Gate.  So the “Look for Me” whisper was a challenge to see Him as each of the seven I AM statements.

I AM the bread of life

I AM the light of the world

I AM the gate (door)

I AM good shepherd

I AM resurrection and life

I AM the way, the truth and the life

I AM the vine

I let it spin in my head for a little bit.  Then I shared the challenge with Todd and the four other folks in our group.  I was hoping someone else would want to take the personal journey for themselves along with me.

Without opening our Bibles we peppered out the I AM statements one by one as we thought of each. 

I began looking for The Good Shepherd.  Seemed only natural as that is the next way Jesus reveled himself whiles he and his followers were standing in the field talking about the figurative gate.

I was not simply looking for a man standing in a field with sheep around him.  That would have been easy to spot in Haiti.  Had I found one and checked it off the list I would have missed how God wanted to reveal himself to me.

Sheep in a Haiti field

So I made it a point not to look for a man standing in a field of sheep.

Anyway, The Good Shepherd is not just a manager of sheep that gets paid to tend a flock.

The Good Shepherd is someone different.  The Good Shepherd is known by His sheep, He gives His life for His sheep.

As I was looking for A Good Shepherd, Jesus revealed himself to me in another way.

It was the next day.  The EPIC day as Todd called it.  The day we spent 10 hours in the back of an Army grade pick-up truck with ten other people, seventy bags of supplies and luggage, no shade or cloud cover, Treacherous terrain, (very few paved sections) several river crossings (um, no bridges either) and lots of dust.

Our transport

As I looked out the back of the overstuffed truck, I would take note of the path we had just driven.  The windy, crooked, bumpy, hilly, jostling terrain and think, “Wow, we just crossed over that?  I am thankful we are in this army vehicle.  I am glad Janeil (the driver) has driven this before.”

Each time we made it past another difficult part I would look back and take a picture of the road.  I wanted to show my kids the adventure.  I would take a photo, look at it on my viewfinder and get discouraged. 

Driving through the mud and muck

Snapshots never do it justice do they?  They cannot fully capture “it.” 

Eagerly anticipating a shutter release with such quality that it could be enlarged to 11 x 13 and mounted on foam core…I continued to press the button. 

From gravel to pavement

I’d take a third or fourth shot as we continued to travel on.  Each photo looked different. The further we got from the difficult part meant that the resulting photo captured more of the actual road we had travelled, not just what we had come out of.  It never looked quite as treacherous as we got further away.

From a Distance

“I AM The Way, the Truth and The Life.”

I have already discovered that this life is not without trial and blemish or fights and discouragement.  When on a purposeful journey The Way is treacherous at times. The road gets awfully rough.  Seldom does it seem paved and smooth.  The rivers that we cross could flood the engine, or carry us away; except the vehicle and driver are trustworthy, experienced and larger than the river.

The longer we stay on the Way and continue to ride with Him and look back together, the Truth of the journey gets revealed.  It doesn’t look so bad the further forward we drive.

All of it captures The Life of someone on the journey.  Not quite the same as the smoothly paved, air conditioned, leisurely trip we imagined we would travel to reach our destinations.

After a good nights rest follwing the EPIC day, Sunday greeted us and I met A Good Shepherd. 

Inside a cement building. 

No wool in sight.

Monday we landed back home to Colorado.  I was still anticipating.  A few days later I somehow stopped looking.  I don’t think it was on purpose.  I did not feel it was intentional. I would measure the passing of a few days and realize I wasn’t paying attention.

I did not take the photographed lesson of The Way The Truth and The Life on the road in Haiti and Photoshop apply it over the snapshot of my life the way I should have. 

Instead of remembering the third and fourth snapshots as we exited the terrain, I chose to look at a particularly rough spot through a magnifying glass and wallow in the pit with the mud and muck and the river that was sweeping me away. 

(I have been reminded twice in the last four days that depression is the fourth phase/step of the grief process.  Three things that caused great grief hit me one after another last fall.)  Just realizing that I am indeed “normally” progressing along this treacherous path revived my spirit enough to throw away the magnifying glass.

The trash man came this morning and took it to the dump.

My focus moved.

I could see again.

If you read all the questions people ask of Jesus in the Bible and then read His answers you will note something significant. 

He never answers them. 

Well, He does give an answer, but it is never what the asker expects.  (Go ahead, take a peak for yourself…it is a rich journey through the pages of an amazing Life giving book.)

I think this is because we have our feet on this earth and He wants us to set our minds on things above.  His answers make us look up and ignore our feet.

At the beginning of John chapter six, Jesus takes five loves and two small fish and feeds a crowd of five thousand men plus women and children.

After, those that ate the bread and were filled talk to Jesus.  He reveals Himself to them as the Bread of Life.

I was looking for a loaf of fresh baked bread when I noticed the flakes of snow falling to the earth.

“I AM The Bread of Life.”

While He is revealing Himself as The Bread of Life, He reminds the crowd of the miracle their ancestors experienced when Manna fell from heaven and fed the newly freed Israelites. 

This caught my attention.

Jesus was revealing himself as Bread but referred not too a loaf that the people had feasted on the day before. 

Rather he was describing the bread from heaven that was a small round substance as fine as frost on the ground once the dew lifted, like coriander seed (go check your spice rack and take a peak.)

The ones that feasted on the Manna were in the Wilderness of Sin, they had just been freed from slavery, experienced the miracle of the Red Sea parting, and waiting to enter the promise land.  Oh, and of course complaining about their situation out there in The Way, The Truth and The Life, I mean the dessert.

All of this happened and He covered the entire ground around the camp with His presence and sustained them. 

-While they were in the Wilderness of Sin, (that is the name of the location as Exodus records it in the NKJV version)

-Set free.

-Waiting for the Promised Land.

I pondered this for about forty five minutes, read the John passage, the Exodus and Numbers passages about Manna, and then to the Institution of The Lord’s Supper and the breaking of Bread and the symbolic gesture Christ leaves us with as He refers to His Body as the breaking of bread.

That only confused me more.  Sorry.

Then I went outside on this beautiful Colorado winter day and noticed the falling snow-flakes, covering the earth.  They looked a lot like the picture I painted in my head when I read the description of Manna.

Then I heard; “I am The Bread of Life.”

He warmly reminded me that He surrounds me like the dew on ground or the flakes of snow in Colorado.  Daily He sustains me.  

Sometimes I don’t recognize what I am looking for because it is presented so radically different than I expected.  Kind of like the answers Jesus gives to those that ask questions.

I was looking for a loaf or fresh baked bread when I noticed the flakes.

The Haiti Bead Ceremony

(I intended to post this in October after returning from Haiti, but did not get around too it.)

Blue for Leadership

Red for Risk

Green for Compassion (or you can cheat a little and cut off the “com” and shorten it to “passion”)

Yellow for Service

Each night before heading to sleep, our small group of six would gather and discuss the events, people and places of the day together.

Joe Knitting, Executive Director of The Global Orphan Project, (whom was hosting our Haiti adventure) plunked a bag of assorted colored beads on the table in front of us.

“The rules are quite simple.  Blue stands for Leadership, Red for Risk, Green for Compassion, and Yellow for service,” he began.

“Each of you needs to select one bead and give it to one other person and speak to them why you chose the bead you did.  You do not need to “speechify” to the group, rather speak directly to the person, as the rest of us listen. Pick just one bead and one person”

It was quite a touching experience. 

If you have a difficult time expressing words like this to others (or receiving them) it could be quite intimidating.  One would need a red-risk bead to even participate.

People who are naturally overflowing with yellow-compassion would find it unfair to just choose one person and leave someone out.

Consider that Joe had met each of us, but prior to the trip did not have a basis for “knowing” much about the five folks he was with. Todd and I just knew one other.  The three others, Gary, Lynelle and Stephan were from the same church in Kansas City and knew each other well.

We did this together for three nights.

 Eventually everyone would have to pick someone they did not already know.   (Or give it to the same person again.)

Surprisingly, the first night, most everyone picked a new face to give a bead and express what they had observed during the day and their reason for their color selection.

It was also fun to see how everyone defined the colors they chose.  Everyone had a slightly different reason for each color.

Not everyone received a bead each night.  Some received multiple beads, but not the same colors.

After the first night I decided I wanted to come to the end of the day with a person and color already selected.  I asked God to show me someone and something specific each day.  I don’t like the pressure of having to do it on the spot.

The ceremony presented an intimate way to look at and appreciate one another’s true colors.  Not just in observing the little and big things throughout the day, but by listening to them speak to one another each night.

On the last night Joe waited to go last and then declared that he had the power to break the rules and gave one bead to each person for the closing ceremony.  

Thanks Joe for introducing us to the bead ceremony.  I hope you don’t mind me passing on this little treasure to everyone.

A Typical Three Days in the Life of an Ordinary Mom

TUESDAY.

I fork over $225.00 a month so I can have six hours each Tuesday and Thursday all to myself.

Usually I tell a fib and phrase it much more appropriately, it sounds something like:  James goes to preschool two days a week, all day.  It is a great school and I am thankful we can provide him the chance to be with friends, learning about circle time, sharing, taking turns, attending chapel, and of course prepare him for Kindergarten.

But really his mommy just needs some of her own time once in awhile.

I still pay $225.00 tuition, but rarely do I get my 12 hours worth of “me time” each week.  Actually I am somewhat ok with that- when I get to control those twelve hours. 

It seems that when I lose control of how I want to spend the time that I freak out a little (Hmmm…have I mentioned “control” seems to be an issue that I need to learn to LET GO of?  Writing about how in the heck I am ever going to figure that one out is a more serious matter.  I am trying to laugh about my last few days so you will have to let me psychoanalyze myself another time.)

On Tuesday Caleb robbed me of my six hours stayed home with me because he had strep throat.  I have to admit, if someone is sick he is the easiest to have home.   He is nine and responsible enough that I can leave him home alone if I need to. 

Which, I decided to do when the clock struck 2:48 and I had to pick up James from that place I send him so I can have some quiet preschool.

 Also, I had carpool duty for Caleb’s school.  The friend I run afternoon carpool with had surgery on Monday and cannot drive for two weeks.  So her “having had surgery card” trumped my “kid is sick at home card.”  After grabbing James I did the ritual drive between the two schools and picked up the three other kids in carpool.  Typically I pick up the kids, come home just in time to meet Kimmy’s bus at the driveway, get her off the bus, and then proceed to take the other three friends home. (In case you are confused, I have three kids and they each go to different schools.  The madness will end next year when James starts Kindergarden at Caleb’s school.  Then I will just have two schools to coordinate.  Hallelujah!)

Since Caleb was left at home so I could have alone time while driving to James’ school practicing responsibility at home, I asked him to please get Kimmy off the bus and I’d take the carpool friends home first.

I pulled the mini- van (Not my mini-van, a borrowed one.  The transmission dropped on my van two weeks ago, on a THURSDAY, and I still don’t have it back yet.) into the drive way and Caleb was on the front porch.

“Mom, I need you to come in the house quick, Kimmy is eating something gross and she won’t listen to me to stop it.” 

The thoughts in my head went something like:  Oh cut the drama, what could she really be eating that is so gross she can actually eat it?  Oh yeah, this is Kimmy, better run quick, this could be serious.

Ever tried gnawing on a turkey neck? Raw?  Kimmy typically chooses yogurt or cottage cheese for her afterschool snack.  Apparently the white rubbery fowl neck in the Tupperware that I was saving to make broth (on THURSDAY when I would have time, after I cooked the turkey for James preschool feast.) looked more appealing.  Really?

So there she was with greasy hands, greasy lips and face trying earnestly to sink her teeth get into some meat.  Perhaps she noticed the unusual flavor and thought “Hmm, if I keep trying it will taste better soon?”  I could blame it on her ongoing sinus problems.  If she were not in the middle of a sinus infection perhaps she could have smelled and tasted it more accurately?

Nonetheless the sight of her and the dangling neck was quite disturbing.  (Gave me flash backs from three years ago when I discovered her taste testing “Spray and Wash” bottles a squirt at a time while standing on top of the dryer in the laundry room with her head in the cupboard where I safely keep all my laundry supplies.  Oh yes and the time she discovered how to remove the child safety lock on her prescription bottle of Synthroid and proved the side effects of eating ALL of them, or the other time when I phoned Poison Control to tell them about…and the operator recognized my voice before I introduced myself and said “How can I help Kimmy today?”)

To give her the benefit of the doubt, she loves chicken legs and the turkey neck does resemble a cooked chicken leg.  A little bit.  A smidge like one anyway. I could see how she might have mistaken it for one.

I made her wash her hands and face and swish water in her mouth and spit.  I then gave her a lecture  calmly told her I needed to be able to trust her to listen to Caleb when he tells her “No” about eating something.  I told her there was a chance that she might get sick because what she was eating was yucky.  No, she could not choose something else for a snack; she would have to wait until the kitchen opened again at dinner time.

WEDNESDAY

At 3:00am Kimmy came to my room sick.  I had mentioned in a past blog post, about her swallowing a quarter, that she has a Nissin and cannot barf.  http://kimmyshouse.wordpress.com/2009/01/13/my-twenty-five-cents-worth/

Well, technically it is too control her severe reflux and was surgically created when she was an infant and had to have a temporary feeding tube placed in her tummy.  It prevented her from getting too much liquid forced back up her esophagus and flooding her lungs and…

Getting sick in the tummy is very painful for her since she can’t actually vomit.  Imagine going through all the commotion that you and I do while yelling car names (“Buick”… “Ford”… Digressing, sorry), into the white porcelain fixture, and then getting no relief, just severe tummy cramps afterwards.

So she flip flopped and groaned slept in bed and thus prevented me from any more shut eye before I had to get up and start the day with the kids with me from 3:00 am until 6:30. 

I didn’t make her ride the bus, because I wanted to observe her and see if I would get to go to Bible study or have to stay at home with her.   she was going to digest breakfast.  She did fine and seemed pleasant so I drove her to school.  James and I headed to Bible study.

This was a good thing.  Glad I sent Kimmy to school so I could go.  One of the ladies in my small group has the sweetest southern accent.  She was giving her explanation to one of the questions from John chapter 5.  After her answer she elaborated about a point and told us what “wallowing” meant.  Now when you pronounce that word, do it with a slight drawl to get the full effect.  “Wallowing is what pigs do in the mud and the muck.” She told us.  “You can choose to wallow in your problems or get out of the mud and move on.”   (I don’t think she had not read my last blog entry so I did not take it as a personal attack-rather a chance to listen up and analize my muck and mud and quit wallowing and move on.)

Oh and hey since I am getting off track a little I need to mention a very important tidbit of information. 

On September 24, 2000 at 12:25 the precise moment I gave birth to our firstborn child an odd thing occurred.  Unbeknownst to me, because I was looking at my newborn son, somehow a special radar was mysteriously implanted into my husband’s brain.  It is the most amazing device.  It secretly alerts him, ahead of time, when to plan his business trips. It is remarkable.  This coordinator helps him plan his travels around little and big crisis’s in our home.  I am not sure the true purpose of the radar, if its design is a way of escape for Todd or if the intent is to put his wife through the can-she-really-do-this test.

But Todd left the house on Tuesday afternoon to return home on Friday night.

Also worth noting is that my in-laws, who are my ever ready backup help when Todd is strategically out of town, are on a two week river cruise in Vienna.

 I had a sitter coming to the house at 3:00 to watch James and Kimmy.

The sitter was there because I was picking Caleb up from school and also needed to pick up his friend Champ and take the two of them to be interviewed by a local radio station.  Caleb, Champ and three grown -ups were talking on the radio about why they want to spend a night sleeping outside in a box on December 4^th. 

4:15. Champ told his story on air and we were told Caleb was due to speak after Sam at 5:15.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch; Laura, our sitter called to tell me that Kimmy had come off the bus pretty sick and she wouldn’t eat or drink anything and the bus driver told her she had laid down and moaned all the way home.

Ohh, the mom guilt.  Did she get salmonella from the turkey neck? I should have kept her home. Darn, neither Todd nor my in-laws are available to go comfort her.

 I called Laura back and told her if Kimmy was crampy to please have her sit on the toilet.  Laura, who just so happens to be a nursing student, reported to me that in fact Kimmy had just done that. Laura herself was concerned because “it” was pink, and bloody like. 

Ok, so I speed dialed my bff, Angie, who is a nurse practitioner and asked her how concerned she thought I should be.  NO, I did not need to leave the radio interview immediately before Caleb had his chance to talk, but I should call my pediatrician and ask her advice.  Speed dial number eleven on my cell put me in touch with the fact that I needed to have her looked at (once I got home), by Urgent care or at an ER. Pediatrician office closes at 4:30 on Wednesdays.  (But at least they are open late on Tuesdays and Thursdays!)

I called Laura back to make sure she was ok to hang out longer that evening.  Told her Caleb was on at 5:15 and I’d take Champ home and then drop off Caleb and picked up Kimmy.

Caleb was super excited and a little nervous as his time slot was approaching.  5:15 got pushed to 5:30 which eventually got pushed to 5:45, and then ultimately got pushed to Thursday.  (This was disappointing for Caleb, and stressful for me to have to wait to get to Kimmy but a good thing as the radio was giving www.anightinabox.com an extra day of air time.  Shameless advertising spot: You can sponsor Caleb as he sleeps out in a box on December 4^th to raise awareness in himself about homelessness.  You can sponsor him or sign up to sleep out with him (and me!) on the website, don’t forget to mention his name if you donate/sign up!)

On the way home I coordinated the “if Kimmy has to stay at the hospital plan” with Laura, and my sister in law over the phone.

Get home,  pack the “in case” overnight bag for each of us, kiss the boys, thank Laura, Kimmy shouts she has to go poop, I in my mommy wisdom yell at her to wait, grab a plastic cup and pair of latex gloves so I can catch a clean sample and be prepared at the Urgent Care to get it cultured, I wrap the sample in saran wrap and hide it in a brown bag (no pun intended), clean up, kiss the boys again and head out.

A few hours later we return home, pay Laura, put Kimmy down, check e-mail, grab a book and head to bed.  Kimmy is clear.  Mommy needs a good nights rest.

THURSDAY

Ha, you thought the excitement ended there didn’t you?  NO chance.  Have you ever had a “Love and Logic teaching moment?”  I had one this morning with James. It was beautiful! 

James loves sweatpants and t-shirts.  If I ask him to dress up he finds his best pair of sweats.  Most days that is fine attire for him and I like him to be comfy. Battling over clothes is not something I care to do.   

Today however was Family Thanksgiving Feast at preschool and I was bringing the turkey.  (Remember I had the raw turkey neck in the fridge.  I put the brined bird into the oven at 7:00 am before I made the kids breakfast, should be done in time to take to school at lunch.)He and his friends were giving a little performance before the Feast, so I asked him to dress up just a little and wear jeans and the nice brown and blue shirt.  He came down stairs in his striped red sweats and blue T-shirt.  He told me;

“These are my legs and they want to wear sweats.” 

He wasn’t being snotty or anything; just matter of fact to see if he could get away with it since mom was parenting  alone and tired and Kimmy had stole the attention from him last night. I took the clothes off of him leaving him in just his undies.

I practiced my best Love and Logic voice.  “Nice try.  Here are the clothes you need to wear today. I will set the timer for 5 minutes, go ahead and change when you want too before the timer goes off.”

I was secretly hoping that he would wait too long; I really want this I-will-obey-but-I-will-wait-to-do-it-on-my-time-schedule game to be over with for him.  Enough already, it drains my energy!

My big teaching moment arrived.  Yes, I was sleep deprived, it is THURSDAY: my day! I had other things to worry about this morning, but I didn’t want to ruin a fun lesson opportunity! After the timer went off I pretended not to notice and while he continued to build a fort out of blankets and couch pillows I packed the clothes into his backpack and called the school to tell the preschool director when I arrived at school I would have an almost naked child and not to be alarmed. She was happy to help me with my plan but suggested I let him put on a T-Shirt because it was only forty degrees.  (Boy, she has grace; I was thinking the cold was a bonus!)

So when it was time to go to school I gave James his socks and shoes and he put them on and asked where his clothes went.  I told him they would be at school; he needed to get into the car.

“How did they get to school without me?”

Kimmy, who I was letting stay home from school was confused but got in the car too.  James became very concerned and told me he wanted to wear clothes to school.  I told him,

“Remember mommy gave you plenty of time to get dressed before the timer went off but you chose to disobey.  I am sorry, there is no more time to get dressed you will have to go to school in your underpants.”

I had to carry him to the car, as he was not going to do this willingly. 

“I don’t want to go to the party or school today; I want to stay home in my underwear.”

In the car I handed him one of Caleb’s T-shirts and told him if he’d like he could put the t-shirt on if he wanted so that the director would like me because I had followed her suggestion rather than make him suffer through the cold he would not be embarrassed walking into school.

Thankfully he knows that mommy doesn’t joke around with stuff like this and he put the shirt on and sat quietly thinking about how to get out of this one.  Once at school he apologized to me and asked if I would carry him.  I did as the point of this was not to humiliate him, rather teach him to obey promptly and not drain mommy’s energy. 

He hid his face in my neck so that no one would recognize him.  (Hey who is that new kid James’ mom is carrying?  I wonder why she is carrying a new kid and not James.)

The Director was supposed to be in her office and take him from there.  The office was locked, no Director so I had to make a plan B. Hello, was my problem not the most important thing for you to help with this morning? I took him to his classroom and put him down in front of the bathroom with his backpack and told him his clothes were inside.

Lesson learned.  I hope. 

I then took Kimmy to school as she continues to show zero signs of actually being sick and I don’t play games on THURSDAYS and let pretend sick kids stay home.  Ok, she was not pretending last night, but sincerely she was chipper all morning and her BM’s were fine thank you.   

Come home, started laundry, sat down to enjoy a few minutes of quiet, started typing this entry so I could clear my brain, checked the temperature of the turkey, cleaned up the kitchen, made a second mug of coffee, sat back down to type.  Checked the turkey, took it out to cool and slice.  Drove to school sat down and started chatting with another mom while waiting on the kids to come in.  Cell phone rings.

“This is Shelley at the school clinic, Kimmy is here complaining of a headache.” 

Headache?  Kimmy if you are going to pull one over on the nice folks at school at least complain about a tummy ache instead so mommy can believe you.

Watch the kids sing their adorable Mr. Turkey songs and give thanks.  Eat the good food everyone brought; hurry James along just in case Kimmy isn’t faking it.

Say good bye to friends, leave school, arrive to see Kimmy must have been yucky as she was sleeping on the clinic bed-not socializing with the ladies in the front office.  Swallow my mom guilt, load her up, drive home, put both kids down for a nap, and shut my eyes myself.

Then at 4:10 Caleb is supposed to call into the radio for his 4:15 interview.  I have him shut himself in the office out of fear that the other two will forget to be quiet and yell in the back ground for privacy.  I log onto the website for the station and listen on my computer and pray for him to not be nervous. 

He is introduced and I am so proud of him!  Kimmy decides she is confused that Caleb’s voice is coming out of the computer and not the radio and starts yelling for Caleb and now I can’t hear the interview who is nowhere to be seen.  I lie a little and tell them that he is upstairs on the phone with the man from the radio station.

James takes this literally and goes upstairs.  He comes down a few minutes later and tells me he can’t find Caleb or the man from the radio station. 

“How is Caleb in the computer mom?”  These questions are cute and deserve an explanation but I am trying to listen to Caleb, not worry about how it works can’t you please just be quiet for just long enough for mommy to listen without interruption.

Perhaps after Thanksgiving break I can cash in on some of my Tuesday Thursday time.  If not, I will enjoy the laugher that comes with control over my time being taken away the reasons that it will never happen.   Todd gets home tomorrow night; maybe he will give me a few hours on Saturday to go for a long run and trip to the spa (right babe?)

 Oh, and I am not really on a first name basis with Poison Control, anymore that was an exaggeration!

And Stephanie, thanks for reminding me to stop wallowing.

Limitations We Were Not Created With

Today caught me depressed.  Not sure if depressed is the correct word.  Exhausted by circumstances to the point of wanting to cry but not being able too is perhaps a better description than depressed. 

Sometimes I can’t cry.  I just can’t.  I am immensely sad but tears just don’t come.  I try to make myself. Sometimes I can self inflict tears with memories. Sometimes I really want to start the flow and somehow let the tears cleans me, but they don’t come.

In an attempt to release the flood of emotions I have stored; but want to release, I tried to direct my sadness at missing my dad….which I do.  Very much so, but that is not all that is making me sad. 

Coincidentally, I mindlessly sat at my computer reading the live feed on facebook, My Aunt Tina, one of my dad’s sisters, had a status update expressing her thankfulness for her four wonderful siblings, and concluding that she misses Bill every day. 

This helped a bit.  It caused enough tears to spill out that a handful of Kleenex were needed.   Another Aunt, Karen, commented that she had been watching home movies and was missing him too.  The Holidays remind us all of dad.  Thanksgiving was his favorite Holiday.  Not sure if it is because his birthday is November 25^th or if he liked it separate from his special day.  I want to believe it is because he had a lot to be thankful for.  As a child I claimed Thanksgiving as my favorite Holiday too so I could be just like him.  Secretly I liked Christmas better but never told anyone.

Todd took the kids to see a movie this afternoon and I decided that if I needed a good cry I should do what Aunt Karen did this week and pull out a home video.  I chose the one my dad made me for my wedding.  The older videos from my childhood were all shot on super 8 and there is no audio.  My dad dubbed songs in the background when he converted them to VHS.  The one from my wedding would have audio and video and I could see and hear my dad.  Plus I had not watched our wedding video in years and wanted to remember what that young, happy, carefree, doting couple looked like.

Dad had made one of those video stories for our reception that had pictures of me growing up and pictures of Todd from infancy to graduation and then the two of us together.  This segment was at the beginning of the video; followed by footage of our rehearsal, dinner, and then our wedding day. 

Funny what can make you cry.  Of course all the pictures growing up of my family, pictures of my dad and I, the song “Butterfly Kisses” and then -seeing that young happy couple.

But one picture made me incredibly sad.  A picture of someone I miss just as much as my dad.  A picture of a twenty something girl leaping in hilarity, arms flung out wide, laughter in her smile, joy etched in her eyes. The shutter snapped as she was in mid air and it looks like she is flying- face forward- across the photo paper.

It is a snapshot a friend took of me.  The photo captured what I miss.

I used to run and dance and leap for joy and do spontaneous and fun things.  I used to laugh- all the time.  Joy was something that flowed through me.  I miss that.  I miss the woman in that photo.

Who is she?  I hardly recognize her.  Maybe if I cry hard enough the tears will unlock her and she can come out to play again.  I rewound the video tape to look at her picture several times. 

(Later when the kids came home, I played the first segment of the video for them.  It was funny that the boys each thought the photos of Todd as a child were themselves.  James, saw the photo of happy joyful mom and asked who she was.  “Me,” I told him.  “What are you doing in the picture?”  “Leaping and dancing.” “Let’s dance now mom.  Will you dance like that right now?”  (If I only I remembered how sweet boy, I want too!)

Note to self:  when you are using the word depressed (even if it is incorrectly) to describe your mood, THE SHACK may not be the best book to pick up and begin reading.  Or perhaps it is.

The book intrigued me instantly and I read pretty fast, so it did not take too long to get to page 97 of the paperback version I picked up at the used bookstore.  (I had to buy it because each of 99 copies at the library was checked out.)

“Papa”, God, is talking to the main character, Mack, who has experienced the unimaginable; his six year old daughter Missy was abducted and killed under his supervision on a summers end camping trip. 

God has brought Mack to the place her bloody dress, but not her body was found; The Shack, to explain Himself.

Papa –God (well actually all three persons of the trinity) and Mack are having a dialogue when a bird walks into Papas hand.

(Just to clarify I am not sure if I am breaking any copywrite rules or not; but I am going to type what the author writes.  I’ll ask forgiveness from him, Wm. Paul Young, if I am not supposed to do this.  I also copy song lyrics to my blog so I suppose one day the internet copywrite police might send me a citation.)

“Consider our little friend here.  Most birds were created to fly.  Being grounded for them is a limitation within their ability to fly, not the other way around.”

“You, on the other hand, were created to be loved. So, for you to live as if you were unloved is a limitation.  Not the other way around.”

“Living unloved is like clipping a birds wings and removing its ability to fly.  Not something I (God) want for you.”

“Mack, pain has a way of clipping our wings and keeping us from being able to fly.   And if left unresolved for very long, you can almost  forget that you were ever created to fly in the first place.”

Why this seemed so profound to me, a few hours after I had looked longingly into a photo of myself, leaping, wanting to claim joy again, has more to do with a series of events, not just the photo and my mood today.

Circumstances, lots of them, most of which I am not ready to write about, have clipped my wings.

Today I did find myself in a bit of a crisis of faith all day long.  Questioning God on lots of levels. I consider myself to have a close relationship with God.  I hear Him speak to me, I listen for His whispers, I trust Him, and He has never let me down. I have reconciled some trials in my life that I now thank Him for allowing me to go through them.  I sincerely thank him for them, because I understand more of Him because of the trials.   I yearn to know Him more and experience more of Him and His goodness and His loving kindness. I think He is pretty ok with me coming to Him in frustration and confusion with the things I don’t understand. I am also struggling with rather I know what brokenness and forgiveness really are.  I imagine all three of these relate to one another.

A new friend, who has gone through a similar (although far more severe) trial in her life is helping me make right decisions.  She is giving me wise, genuine, been through it, and “look to God through this” kind of counsel.

A few weeks ago, I asked her how I should respond or act regarding a specific troubling issue within the bigger issue.  She said something that caused me to examine and see in myself something I was blind too.  She said,

“It is not so much how you need to act or behave; it is about what you need to be able to receive.  You can’t give out what you won’t receive.”

After an hour of replaying that in my head and asking God to show me what I needed to receive, He gave an answer.  

“Love.”

“Shannon you won’t let yourself receive love and therefore you can’t give it out where you need too most right now.  Learn to receive love.  My genuine love. I give it out through others too you know.  Don’t resist it.  Don’t push them away.   It won’t always be painful. You can risk it and have hope.”

I appreciated God giving me a quick answer and allowing me to start the process of figuring out how to tear down that really thick wall I have hidden myself inside for protection. But I still don’t “get it” yet.

Today I found myself “stuck” and feeling “trapped.”

The conversation in my head earlier was something like this:

“God- because such and such happened when I was this particular age, that just set me up to fail for this thing that happened at this time, which brings me to the next series of events, that leave me destined to fail too.  I didn’t really think what happened way back when really affected me; I was young, but now I see the way I have put up all these walls is because of all of that, plus, this that and that too, which leaves me resistant to risk getting hurt again. I‘m crippled to give and receive love; I don’t understand how to forgive in this, plus I am not joyful and fun anymore.  What is the point of all of this anyway? Is this some sort of game you are playing with my life?  Why did you let all that happen if you knew it was going to turn out this way and cause this to be like it is? I must be difficult to live with. Is this really fair and why is it all coming to a head right now? So, if I work it out, figure out how to reconcile all of it and the meaning and purpose if it all- then what, is it just so I can offer hope to someone else who has gone through it?  What about my kids who have to live with the effects of this until I figure it out, won’t it mess them up and they can blame me later when their life is upside down.  Why send any of us through trials just to comfort one another…can’t you see you can avoid all this just by eliminating the trials….”

See I am ok with writing all of this and sharing it.  God is incomprehensible; He is faithful and all knowing so He knows my thoughts. If I think them quietly, shout them, or write them to share the real me with the world, (the one hiding behind the super woman cape) He knows it already. I can’t hide it from Him. 

I suspect He is trying to show me something about HIS LOVE.  Yes, and probably I will need to share it with others because this world is not perfect, there are lots of trials and pain and hurt…and somehow that girl I miss in the photos can learn to dance and spill out joy again.

Divine Wisdom from my Four Year Old

Today during the twenty minutes I had alone in the car with my four year old, I was given some pretty good insight.

I picked James up from preschool at 3:00 and while in route to pick up my oldest son and his carpool James asked me some very good questions and taught me an important lesson.

James: “Mom, how come teachers are so smart? Are they smarter than parents?”

Me: “God made teachers to teach you things parents can’t teach you. God gave certain people the job of being teachers. And he gave you good parents.”

James: “Can I be a teacher when I grow up?”

Me: “I think you would be a great teacher James, you can be anything God wants you to be.”

James: “What if I want to be a football player?” (Yesterday he wanted to be a fireman or a policeman)

Me: “James, I think you would be a great football player, you can be anything God wants you to be.”

James: “What if I want to be a football player and God wants me to be the job of a teacher?”

Me: “That is a GREAT question James. What if God wants you to be a teacher and you really want to play football? What do you think you should choose?”

James: “I think I should like to play football but be a teacher.”

This is not a blog post to just tell you that “cute story” from my four year old. Really it is SO MUCH more than the cute story that it is.

First I will have to do some telescoping out and give you a brief time line and history for you to understand why I titled this “Divine Wisdom from My Four Year Old” and not “Something Cute James said Today.”

During that car ride, prior to James timely insight, two songs had played on the radio. Lyrics to songs often speak a message to me.

Typically I will be excited about/struggling with/contemplating something and a few simple lyrics will somehow relate to me.

Quirky as it seems, I even think, “Radio, how did that song writer jump into my head, examine my heart and then write that song for me to hear?”

The first song that caught my attention was one I grew to love about 14 or 15 years ago. It is a Newsboys Song: “Shine.” It is a goofy song but I like it anyway because of the message.

It is also based on scripture and so there is some truth to it, the kind of truth I seek.

dull as dirt
you can´t assert the kind of light
that might persuade
a strict dictator to retire
fire the army
teach the poor origami
the truth is in
the proof is when
you hear your heart start asking,
“What´s my motivation?”

and try as you may, there isn´t a way
to explain the kind of change
that would make an Eskimo renounce fur
that would make a vegetarian barbecue hamster
unless you can trace this about-face
to a certain sign…

Chorus
shine
make ´em wonder what you´ve got
make ´em wish that they were not
on the outside looking bored
shine
let it shine before all men
let´em see good works, and then
let ´em glorify the Lord

out of the shaker and onto the plate
it isn´t Karma
it sure ain´t fate
that would make a Deadhead sell his van
that would make a schizophrenic turn in his crayons
Oprah freaks
and science seeks a rationale
that shall excuse
this strange behavior

 when you let it shine
you will inspire
the kind of entire turnaround
that would make a bouncer take ballet
(even bouncers who aren´t happy)
but out of the glare
with nowhere to turn
you ain´t gonna learn it on “What´s My Line?”

(Side note: the scripture reference about SHINE is found somewhere in the first 6 chapters of Matthew, enjoy looking for it and the “Cool, found it” moment if you should be so inspired to search it out—have fun.)

When that song came on it mentally took me back to my “carefree single days” when serving God “seemed easier” because there was just me to worry about, not too much to give up, time was plentiful, not as many people had not hurt me, it all seemed like a pretty package.

I vividly remember playing this song on a borrowed CD in my old, wrecked, 2 door gold Honda Civic and hitting repeat so many times that the button threatened me not to touch it ever again. Along with the repeat you would have heard a tone deaf gal who can’t carry a note singing the chorus at the top of her voice like she was a rock star. Man, I want nothing more than for my life to shine and inspire and give God glory. When tone deaf, can’t carry a note girl was singing that song I knew God heard it and it somehow hit his ears as a beautiful song.

Two funny things that happened when the song came on, first; I turned the volume up and although James didn’t agree, his mom was a rock star for a few minutes. Second; that song ended and the following song jolted me back to today. Thank you, Matthew West and your song The Motions, and thank you radio for playing it at 3:11 today, right after Shine and…

This might hurt
It’s not safe
But I know that I’ve gotta make a change
I don’t care If I break

At least I’ll be feeling something
‘Cause just ok
Is not enough
Help me fight through the nothingness of life

Chorus
I don’t wanna go through the motions
I don’t wanna go one more day
Without Your all consuming passion inside of me
I don’t wanna spend my whole life asking
What if I had given everything?
Instead of going through the motions

No regrets
Not this time
I’m gonna let my heart defeat my mind
Let Your love
Make me whole
I think I’m finally feeling something

Take me all the way
Take me all the way
Take me all the way

So, perhaps I could end this blog post and you might already get a little of the picture and how James was more than just cute.

But if I stopped writing I would leave out SO MUCH more.

From 10:30 am until 2:10 pm today someone was (figuratively) holding my hand and walking me down a path of pointed questions, reflection, insight, examination and highlighting issues I need to understand.

All this was relevant to decisions I have to make, ministry, and yes, correlating to my life and specific circumstances.

As this path was being hiked during those four hours, the Shine chorus in my life was intersecting with Going through the Motions and other parts of my life that I signed on the dotted line for:

“God I am your servant for your purposes, use me.”

“God whatever it takes, I want to serve you”

Recently, I was speaking in a class and I was telling the folks listening about these two sentences. I wrote them in my Bible on the “Occasions to Remember” page. I was inspired and offered the chance to write them in 1994.

Although I used an ink pen I pretty much wrote it with my blood. I was committed to writing it and I had examined the “Really, would you do WHATEVER it takes?” question.

Yes, I speculated about all the worst case scenarios that I could think of and I still answered: YES!

(I think sometimes folks are scared to ask the worst case scenario questions for fear that ALL of them HAVE to happen in order for the commitment to be REAL.)

Yes, if that means I have to lose someone I love. Yes, if that means you want me to live in a jungle. Yes, if that means someone might cut off my legs and I have to use a wheelchair. Yes, it that means hot acid will disfigure my face. Yes, if that means I have to remain single or childless. Yes, if that means…

Only one of the above mentioned worst case scenarios has happened to me; losing my dad…but that is an eventaul “given” in everyones life (Not to say the rest can’t/won’t.  I don’t know that the future holds, but I do know The Creator of the future.)

For awhile I mistakenly thought serving God with my life could be a pretty white papered package tied with a lovely red bow.

Going on short term mission trips was a financial strain, and a step of faith but the trips were also fun mountain top experiences.

1995-1998 Being involved in the lives of more than a hundred “poor” kids, while directing a church bus ministry was a ton of work, but really fun, inspiring work and the sacrifice of time was actually a reward.

1998: Marriage came with the vow of committing my life “till death do us part”- to my belief system of what a marriage should look like. (Pretty white papered package and a lovely red bow tied across the top. Perhaps a few trials sprinkled here and there as problems arise. A possible crinkle to the paper or loosening of the bow…) All you married readers are laughing. I hear you…

2000: Pregnancy and child number one of three. I committed my life to my belief system of what a good mom looked like. Caleb was healthy and he learned to walk at just 9 months olds…weeks and months ahead of the babies of all my friends. He never had ear infections because being among the crowd of superior moms I breastfed and it was not difficult. At three months he slept through the night, right on schedule because I read all the right books, Motherhood is bliss.

A few things that I did not consider when I meant “Whatever it takes God” have challenged and allowed me to cement my commitment again.

2001: “My child, My servant, will you be the mother of a special needs child?”

NO, no, not me…I follow all the pregnancy books and I am healthy, my body can’t produce a child with a chromosome abnormality. I am only 27, not 44 I am not at an advanced maternal age and at risk for something like this. My children will all be healthy and perfect. I eat well and exercise. What will people think of me? What will they think I have done?

02/12/2002: Oh, Oh, I get it God. Yes, I will do whatever it takes to serve you.

08/26/2002: Everyone has told me to say good bye to her. God she is dying. Why did you give her to me, let me love her and care for her so much if she is just going to die so soon?

08/27/2002: God I trust you know what is best for me. I give Kimmy to you. I understand she is sick and she can be healthy and whole with you. I give Kimmy to you. I trust you to take better care of her than I ever could. Good- bye my sweet Kimmy, you have my permission to leave me. I can let God have you now; He has been the one taking care of you all this time from heaven. He is the one you have felt surrounding you and I all this time. I love you. I can only imagine what it will be like there, constantly surrounded by his glory, what will you do? You will dance…You can go be with HIM. Good bye.

8/28/02- (6 months and 26 days old, 8 hours after her third major heart surgery, not to mention all the other surgeries she had in addition, plus another 8 hours into the critical 24 hour “post op wait” period.) She is doing great? She is going to recover? God you didn’t take her? I don’t know what to do now, I said good bye to her early this morning as she wheeled past the red line that took her into the operating room. They all told me she would not survive the surgery. I really did give her over to you. You asked me to give her to you, why is she still here? Todd and I walked outside after we said good bye to her. We started making plans to live without her. You asked me to give her to you and I did. Oh. Oh… you wanted me to surrender her to you? You were asking me to let her die, but your were not asking me to really let her die, you were asking me to give her to you. To let her go…something I didn’t know how to do. Die to my desires. Thank you God, that she can be fully yours but still alive and MY DAUGHTER!

2005: Oh, so this is part of the purpose for being the mom of Kimmy

2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009… God, you are SO amazing, thank you for choosing us for Kimmy. I see the gift she is. Thank you for all you have taught me and continue to teach me through her. Thank you for a ministry that I would never have imagined, much sweeter than living in a jungle. Thank you for all the amazing people I get to meet and the places I get to travel. Thank you that you can take something I didn’t want and teach me so much about WHO YOU ARE and how YOU WORK and HOW YOU LOVE.

Perhaps I am not a quick learner. I went through the process of surrendering Kimmy and it was difficult. I have learned a lot, but I forgot the process and what God was asking me to do.

So now, in the midst of a long, painful, ugly trial – the ‘reason for the trail’ is something that has taken me by surprise. (Why did I let it take me so long to “get it”?)

My AH HA moment finally occurred.

OH, so this is supposed to be hurtful and somewhat disfiguring for me…like hot acid being poured on my face but not exactly. I thought this was something else. I thought I could get out of this one eventually. God, are you asking me to do whatever it takes?

This really doesn’t seem fair. God, do you know what you are asking me to do? Didn’t you die on the cross for my sins and the sins of the people affecting this situation? Do you really want me to forgive? Do you how painful this is to bear?

Oh, so when I told you I wanted to be more like Christ, this is part of that? Not just His fun ministry stuff, but the ministry of his suffering as well?

Ok, this is really difficult you know that? Yes, you do know that…I trust you God you have never let me go. You have never let me down. I can only do this because I trust you.

This seems like a risk, but God somehow you erase those very words, “this seems like a risk” because of WHO YOU ARE.

This is an opportunity isn’t it? This is serving you isn’t it? I counted the cost in 1994, I really meant it. You knew that, you were the one asking me to do it all along. You had plans, plans I would not have imagined or wanted.

Thank you for giving me the chance to consider it again, thank you that last Thursday in a very real way you presented me with the option of backing out…I don’t want to miss ANYTHING you have for me because I have fear. I don’t want to go through the motions of following you; I want you to take me all the way. I want to shine and give you glory.

Thank you that when I don’t know how to let go you do it for me, and then I can look back and see what it looks like, kind of…I am not sure I really understand that yet…but you are patient. Thank you. I know you want me to receive a lot from this. I want to learn, I want to do whatever it takes, I am your servant for your purpose.

So, Yes James what you said to me at 3:15 was very divine wisdom. That I might want to play football, but God has a different job for me. BUT as you also said, I should like to do all the things I want, but still do the job God wants me to do.