Another sniffly Saturday...sure will be glad when the frost hits and these allergies are no more!
Well, let's see, another week has gone by and I've got a few things to report on. Patch Club started this week. That is something our church does on on Wed. nights for the elementary school kids. Our pastor's wife called me this year to ask if I'd help. I was thinking, "No, no, no!" but found my mouth saying, "Ok!" But the first night went fine. I've got the kindergarten through third graders. I had 8 this past Wed. And it actually went well. Of course, I bribed them with candy. Kids will do about anything for sugar.
Last Sunday my friend Julie got saved. It was wonderful! She and I have been walking together once a week and emailing back and forth since last March. Her family started attending our church last fall and I figured out pretty quickly after I got to talking with her that she was not saved. So I've been praying and explaining things as she asked. Last Sunday during the final hymn Julie turned to me and asked for a tissue because she was crying. Church ended and I was cleaning up the pew and she was just sitting there, still. And I'm thinking to myself, ok, what should I do now? Do I leave her alone or say something or what? So I finally tapped her on the shoulder and asked, "You ok?" She bursts into tears, grabs onto me, and says, "I'm tired of fighting! I'm ready to get saved!" So my mind instantly started whirling. What to do now? Do I find the pastor's wife? Do I do this myself? So I finally asked, "What do you want to do?" A couple other women in the church had reached out to her recently so Julie asked me to get them for her. I found a room for us and when everyone got in there, Julie gave her life to the Lord. It was wonderful. I can't even remember the last time I was part of something like that. It's been almost a week and I'm still rejoicing!
Well, how to segue from that to something else? Well, I do have other good news, but it's not nearly so important as the above. I got 7th place in the most recent FaithWriters Challenge. Here's the link: http://www.faithwriters.com/wc-article-editors-previous.php?id=40666 It had been SO long since I had placed that I had kind of given up on it. I thought maybe I had lost my touch. So getting that was a real encouragement to me this week! This one will be published. The basic premise of this story was one that I actually wrote over a year ago for another challenge entry. But there was some problem with the billing on my account and I wasn't able to enter that week. Well, I thought I had saved the piece when we wiped out my computer this summer, but I discovered that I had not! But I was able to take that idea and re-write it to fit the topic. The story is primarily a conversation between a mother and her grown son. But there's a little "twist" at the end that makes it kind of interesting.
I mentioned a week or so ago that a devotional I wrote for the Jewels of Encouragement blog was going up this week. Here's the link to that one: http://www.jewelsofencouragement.com/2011/09/wisdom-in-whirlwind.html I got some really nice compliments on this one. I'm anxious to write for them again!
Oh, and speaking of writing, Will is back to blogging. He had decided to abandon his blog and just do his writing in the form of notes on Facebook, but I suggested that he also post his notes to his blog, because I know he had readers who don't Facebook. Here's the link to his blog:http://runningtherace-sportsandlife.blogspot.com/
I sold my buffet yesterday. This was my massive, 6 foot long one I've had out in the back room for the past 7 yrs. It was with a pang that I let it go, but I needed the space more than I needed it. The lady that bought it called me at 8:30 in the morning to ask if she could come down and look at it. Oh my goodness - I wasn't dressed, the house was a mess, and the buffet had seven years worth of stuff in it! I managed to get it unloaded, vacuumed out and lemon-oiled. But I couldn't do much with myself or the house. And of course she was one of these young, cute moms - made me feel decidedly dowdy when she showed up. And they asked to use my bathroom - it was on my list to clean it yesterday, but I hadn't gotten that far at 8:30 in the morning! But I did get to hold her 3 month old who slobbered over me. He got fussy as they were loading the buffet so I swooped him up. It was blissful!
Sam decided to learn how to button and unbutton his clothes this week. It only took him a day. He was recounting that to me today and also reminded me that he now wipes his own bottom. I praised him and said, "Oh, you're getting to be such a big boy!" "Yeah, " Sam agreed, but then sighed, "But I still can't write my 'A's'"! I've started trying to teach him some writing skills and it is coming along very slowly. He'll get there. I'm actually surprised at how much he is already able to do for not even being 4 yet. But then, he hangs around with teenagers all day long. I guess some of that was bound to wear off on him!
This morning Sam wanted to know where his dad and Will were. I told him that they had gone to fix Will's car. Sam cupped his face in his hands and exclaimed, "But I broke the windshield!" I was surprised he even remembered that. He added, "I might do it again!" I told him to just stay off the hood of the car and it shouldn't be a problem!
Well, tomorrow is the 10th anniversary of Sept. 11th, 2001. Everyone seems to be pausing to remember that, which is good. When Julie and I went for our walk this past week, Pleasantville had placed flags all along part of the walking trail. I remember that Tuesday well, as I'm sure everyone does. It was a beautiful, sunny, late summer day in the Midwest. I had just dropped Will off at school and I had Ben and David in the van with me. We were sitting in the parking lot of Center Baptist Church in Omaha. I had a MOPS steering committee meeting and was just waiting for the others to arrive. I was listening to the Christian radio station when the announcer came on and said there had been a terrible accident - a plane had flown into one of the Twin Towers. I didn't think a whole lot of it until a moment or two later when the suddenly stopped playing music and announced that another plane had hit the towers and this was no accident. I remember that the head of Grace University (who sponsored the radio station) then came on and said that he suspected that some guy named Osama bin Laden was behind these attacks. When he said that I remembered a Readers Digest article I had read some years earlier that suggested that bin Laden was the greatest physical threat to the United States. I didn't really know what they meant by that and of course, nobody would ever attack the United States! But it all came back to me when I heard this college head suggest this.
I remember at the meeting that we had to tell the pastor's wife what had happened. She hadn't heard yet. Afterwards I drove to Paul's work. I just felt this need to gather my loved ones around. I called my mom, to make sure that my brother, who flied (and still flies) frequently for his job wasn't on those planes. I called the school where Will attended. They told me I was welcome to come pick him up, but I didn't. Wanting to do something - anything - I called the blood bank to see if I could donate. All those injured people were going to need extra blood. I got home, turned on the tv, and didn't move for the next few hours. I sat there, along with all of America and the rest of the world, in stunned disbelief and grief as the images from New York, the Pentagon, and Shanksville, Pennsylvania aired. I cried when the entire congress gathered on the steps of - where were they, actually? Anyway - they stood there together and sang, "God Bless America" and it seemed to me to be the single-most united act I had ever seen in my lifetime.
And I remember the next day, driving Will to school when all of a sudden I felt this fierce patriotic pride surge through my being. The day before had been about grief. Now, it was about pride. Nobody can keep the United States of America down for long. That's why I have come to appreciate Toby Keith's song "The Red, White, and Blue" where he personifies the country as having a "big, black eye" from this event but turning around to give the bad guys a "boot in the ____."
I don't know if we're any safer today. I don't know when the next attack will come, if it will. But I do know that ten years later, I still tear up when I think of the events of that day. I don't even cry when I think about the days my own babies were born. But there's something about 9-11...
So, anyway, that's where my thoughts are as we come upon this anniversary. Ten years later, I am still so patriotic and so in love with this country. My boys, who were little guys then, are now big guys. And while I find myself praying for the Lord's perfect will in their lives and futures, I have to admit, that if one of these boys donned a uniform and went to fight for this great nation - I think I'd nearly burst wide open from pride.
September...the month of memories...
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Friday, September 9, 2011
Heeding the Call
For a few months now I've been asking for prayer as we sought God's will on something. I'm ready to blog about it. I'm going to give two versions. The first is the "nutshell" one, the second is the mini-series one. Depending on what you have for time, you may want to go with the first!
Version 1) We believe God is calling us to adopt another child. Things are moving fairly rapidly on this and more than likely, we will be new parents again this next year.
Version 2) When I was somewhere around the age of 12 I read a Readers Digest condensed book about a soldier who fell in love with a little girl in an orphanage while in Vietnam. After the war, he moved Heaven and earth and was able to return to Vietnam and adopt the little girl. Her new family named her "Kim," I remember. I was so moved by that story that I decided right then that when I grew up I would someday like to adopt, as well. I never forgot that and when Paul and I were dating I informed him that if we were to marry I would like for us to consider adoption at some point. He was agreeable.
Well, we did marry, of course, and the babies came quickly for awhile there. Adoption was the farthest thing from my mind during those busy years! But then infertility struck and after awhile, we began talking about the possibility of finishing our family by adopting. I even made a couple of phone calls - one to an adoption agency and another to an organization that provides temporary and permanent housing for children in need. But the time wasn't right and I didn't know where to go next, so we just dropped the idea. And then, eventually, Sam came along and I had the stroke and my days became more focused on survival as I fought to overcome the effects of the stroke, care for a newborn, and deal with Ben, whose behavior was beginning to take some alarming downward turns.
But I never forgot about adopting. At the same time, though, I assumed our family was complete with the arrival of Sam. After all, the doctors scared us into getting a vasectomy so I knew we wouldn't be birthing any more children - even though we had totally planned to have a fifth in order to give Sam a sibling close in age. As time passed a drumbeat began resounding in my heart about the possibility of adoption. Every time I would read a story about the subject, my heart would constrict. I felt jealous when I learned of others who had adopted. Hearing testimonies about adoptions would nearly drive me to tears.
But there are a lot of good reasons for us NOT to adopt. And I reminded myself of these reasons over and over. But the drumbeat wouldn't go away. So, finally, in the spring of 2010 I prayed. I remembered that Sam had come about as the result of a "fleece" prayer I had prayed in the winter of 2007. If God could so clearly show His hand then, couldn't He do it again? I told the Lord that I would completely zip my mouth in regards to the subject of adoption - not that I brought it up that regularly, anyway - but if God wanted us to pursue this, then He needed to have Paul come to me and bring up the subject. And so I became deliberately mum on this subject. Not one word about the possibility escaped my lips.
And then last December 9, Paul and I were on a date. We were eating and he suddenly reached into his billfold and handed me a little post-it note. On it was the name of an adoption agency. That day he had been in a customer's home and had noticed that she had children who didn't "match" her in looks and asked if she was adoptive parent. She confirmed this and she and Paul ended up talking for a very long time on the subject. Here was my sign! And I was excited. For about three days...
And then all the doubts came rushing in. I knew we couldn't afford an international or private adoption. Yes, God could provide the money, but would He? I wasn't too keen on the idea of begging our friends and family for the funds, either, especially when we already had a houseful of children. It seems like most months we're barely scraping by when it comes to finances, so what we were doing even thinking about adding another child that we would be financially responsible to care for? And then what about time? I live in a whirlwind most days, running from one activity or chore to the next. Having more children would make that even harder. My work load would increase considerably. What about Ben? Things were so rough in our house until he started school. He was so happy going to school which calmed our household down, which, in turn, made all of us happy again. Did I really want to take a chance on disrupting that? What about my writing? It's hard enough finding the time and quiet to write what I do. More children would make that harder. And so on - I came up with many, many objections to what it seemed God might be calling us to do.
While all these thoughts were swirling through my head I slowly began to find myself considering more and more the idea of providing foster care to a child in hopes that we might be able to adopt it at some point. I had always been very opposed to this idea, though, because I know a couple of families that had to give their adopted children back once they got into adolescence. These children were never able to overcome the abuse and neglect of their early years. I also couldn't stand the idea of loving a child and then having to give him back because some relative crawled out of the woodwork or a birth parent cleaned up their act. Did I really want to deal with the emotional baggage a foster child would probably have? The answers were no, no, no! What I would like to do is to come up with $25,000, fly to some foreign country, and bring home a cute, cuddly little girl, who would love me forever. But slowly, my resistance to the idea of fostering to adopt began to crumble more and more.
April rolled around. I had been nearly completely silent on the whole idea of adoption since the previous December. One day Paul asked me, "So what are you thinking about this? You haven't said anything!" I told him my thoughts. I told him that I was scared to death to love a child that might never be capable of loving me back. I could invest years, energy, money, and love into a child that might turn around and stomp all over my heart someday. But even as I said that, I immediately was given a vision of Christ dying on the cross. Isn't that what Christ did for us? He opened up His arms wide in love for the whole world and look how He was rejected. Am I called to do anything less? Paul then said something that made me think. He said, "You know, life is so short. If we can make a difference in someone's life, I think we ought to consider it."
Mother's Day came. I got my usual gifts from the boys and then Paul handed me a small package wrapped in pink, girly paper. I didn't know it at the time but apparently he had bought this gift with a certain amount of trepidation. He told me later he was fully prepared to take it back if I reacted badly! I opened it up and it was a small, pink photo album that said, "Baby Girl" across the front. That was a little puzzling, since we have neither! Inside was a letter that he had written. Peppered with Bible verses to back up his points, Paul wrote that he was committed to doing whatever it took in the next year for us to adopt a little girl. At that point, my defenses crumbled. I started crying and accepted the reality that we were, indeed, going to pursue this.
For the next few weeks, I lived in a state of confusion though. I had agreed to explore the possibility of adoption. But how? Where were we to even start? I explored the international websites and was dismayed by the cost of an international adoption. On some of the applications it appeared that my stroke history might make me ineligible. I could probably figure out how to get the ball rolling on a foster care adoption, but I still didn't know who to call. I remember thinking that I just wished God would drop a baby on our doorstep, so I would know what to do!
About this time, we got a brochure in the mail for the upcoming homeschool conference. I looked through the offered workshops and one caught my eye. It was entitled simply, "Adoption - a Calling." I knew nothing about it, other than the title. I thought I could relate to the title because it seemed like this was indeed a "calling" that we were experiencing. Paul arranged to get off work to attend the seminar with me and we went. It was taught by a couple from the Fort Dodge area. We had never seen them before in our lives. They started the workshop by giving a brief overview of the four different types of adoption - international, private, foster care, and relative adoptions. And then they told their story. This couple has adopted close to 19 children, I think, nearly all of them out of the foster care system. They have one biological child, a little boy born the same month as Sam. I was transfixed by their story. Afterwards, Paul and I stayed and asked this couple question after question.
As we left the room, finally, I told Paul, "I think our family is about to get a little bigger!" But then I added a few minutes later, "But I don't want twenty children!" Paul exclaimed, "Good! Because I don't, either!"
The next day I was wandering the curriculum hall, buying materials for the boys. Suddenly, I stumbled across a booth emblazoned with the name, "Iowa KidsNet." I had just learned the previous day that this was the organization that headed up the foster care and adoption services in the state of Iowa. I talked with the lady there. And I talked with her some more. And some more! And then I called her the next Monday and talked with her again! The first step, we learned, was to take an orientation class. Unfortunately, due to funding cuts, the classes were hard to get into. But she got us into a class that supposedly was full.
The night before we went to this class, we met with our pastor. We both really wanted to get his input into this. I honestly half expected him to tell us that we were nuts. We had enough on our plates and we would be insane to bring another child or two into our home and add to the chaos. But he didn't. He looked at us and told us that he thought we could do this. He said he wouldn't tell that to just anyone, but he had observed us for the past 6 1/2 years, saw the way we parent, and was confident that if God was indeed leading us this direction, we could do it. Wow!
About a week previously, Paul had gone up to camp as a counselor. While he was there he ran into my parents' pastor from Waterloo and asked to speak with him. A number of years ago this pastor and his wife adopted a sibling group of five out of Iowa foster care. So he was able to have a nice long chat with this pastor. And then he spoke with the maintenance head at camp, who I went to school with. He and his wife added a sixth child a few years ago through foster care. They told him both the same thing - there will be struggles, but the reward will be worth it.
We went to the orientation class and came away greatly encouraged. I suspect that the orientation class is an attempt to "weed out" the parents that might be tempted to do foster care for less than stellar reasons (the state does pay a stipend per child per month). We met a couple there who was in the process of renewing their license. They had completed the training 4 years earlier and ended up bringing home a baby girl from the hospital less than six months later, adopting her when she was a year old. But now they wanted to add to their family. I'm not holding out for a newborn, but wouldn't it be something if that's the way it worked out for us? We were fingerprinted at the meeting and turned in reams of paperwork so background checks could be run on us (they came back clear!).
We found out later this summer that the classes we need to take in order to become licensed were full and few and far between. We finally got into a set that would not be beginning until late January. It was a little disappointing, but I reasoned that God had His hand on this and if we needed to wait, then there was a reason. Besides, there's the not-so-small matter of having a bedroom ready for another child. Our plan is to move one or more of the boys down to the new basement, building a room down there, and thus freeing up one of the upstairs bedrooms. And that's going to take a little bit of time. Well, I then got a call two weeks ago letting me know that an opening had come up and we could begin our classes on Oct. 3! We will complete them on Dec. 5th. During that time, we will have our home study and once we're licensed in Dec, we can begin taking children.
My desire, though, is for adoption. I do not have any intention of having a stream of children come through our home. However, we may not necessarily get to adopt the first child that is placed with us. I'm making it very clear to the powers that be that we want to adopt and would prefer to have only children who will soon be available for adoption placed with us. But I'm not sure how much say-so we will have on that.
So this is our news. Am I excited? Yes. Am I apprehensive? Oh yes! I know that we are taking a tremendous risk by opening our hearts and home to a child who has been already been hurt by those that were supposed to protect them. All my previous objections - time, money, resources - are still factors. But this is the thing: they don't matter. When God calls you, everything else falls by the wayside. Will we sacrifice to heed this call? Of course. Will we lose things we might have kept otherwise? There's no doubt.
And, I have to keep in mind, too, that just because we have come this far on the journey and the end appears in sight, we may never actually get another child. There is a possibility that God has been simply calling us to obedience, like He did with Abraham when He asked him to sacrifice his son. Time will tell. Throughout these months, the one thought I have returned to time and time again is this: I don't want to get to Heaven someday and have God look at me sadly and say, "I had so much planned for you - if only you had obeyed."
So, whether I'm on the verge of becoming a mother of one more - or several more - remains to be seen. Whatever happens, though, I know that I have the confidence that we are stepping out in perfect (or in my case, inperfect) faith and obedience. Wherever we end up will be the center of God's will.
And that's a good place to be.
Version 1) We believe God is calling us to adopt another child. Things are moving fairly rapidly on this and more than likely, we will be new parents again this next year.
Version 2) When I was somewhere around the age of 12 I read a Readers Digest condensed book about a soldier who fell in love with a little girl in an orphanage while in Vietnam. After the war, he moved Heaven and earth and was able to return to Vietnam and adopt the little girl. Her new family named her "Kim," I remember. I was so moved by that story that I decided right then that when I grew up I would someday like to adopt, as well. I never forgot that and when Paul and I were dating I informed him that if we were to marry I would like for us to consider adoption at some point. He was agreeable.
Well, we did marry, of course, and the babies came quickly for awhile there. Adoption was the farthest thing from my mind during those busy years! But then infertility struck and after awhile, we began talking about the possibility of finishing our family by adopting. I even made a couple of phone calls - one to an adoption agency and another to an organization that provides temporary and permanent housing for children in need. But the time wasn't right and I didn't know where to go next, so we just dropped the idea. And then, eventually, Sam came along and I had the stroke and my days became more focused on survival as I fought to overcome the effects of the stroke, care for a newborn, and deal with Ben, whose behavior was beginning to take some alarming downward turns.
But I never forgot about adopting. At the same time, though, I assumed our family was complete with the arrival of Sam. After all, the doctors scared us into getting a vasectomy so I knew we wouldn't be birthing any more children - even though we had totally planned to have a fifth in order to give Sam a sibling close in age. As time passed a drumbeat began resounding in my heart about the possibility of adoption. Every time I would read a story about the subject, my heart would constrict. I felt jealous when I learned of others who had adopted. Hearing testimonies about adoptions would nearly drive me to tears.
But there are a lot of good reasons for us NOT to adopt. And I reminded myself of these reasons over and over. But the drumbeat wouldn't go away. So, finally, in the spring of 2010 I prayed. I remembered that Sam had come about as the result of a "fleece" prayer I had prayed in the winter of 2007. If God could so clearly show His hand then, couldn't He do it again? I told the Lord that I would completely zip my mouth in regards to the subject of adoption - not that I brought it up that regularly, anyway - but if God wanted us to pursue this, then He needed to have Paul come to me and bring up the subject. And so I became deliberately mum on this subject. Not one word about the possibility escaped my lips.
And then last December 9, Paul and I were on a date. We were eating and he suddenly reached into his billfold and handed me a little post-it note. On it was the name of an adoption agency. That day he had been in a customer's home and had noticed that she had children who didn't "match" her in looks and asked if she was adoptive parent. She confirmed this and she and Paul ended up talking for a very long time on the subject. Here was my sign! And I was excited. For about three days...
And then all the doubts came rushing in. I knew we couldn't afford an international or private adoption. Yes, God could provide the money, but would He? I wasn't too keen on the idea of begging our friends and family for the funds, either, especially when we already had a houseful of children. It seems like most months we're barely scraping by when it comes to finances, so what we were doing even thinking about adding another child that we would be financially responsible to care for? And then what about time? I live in a whirlwind most days, running from one activity or chore to the next. Having more children would make that even harder. My work load would increase considerably. What about Ben? Things were so rough in our house until he started school. He was so happy going to school which calmed our household down, which, in turn, made all of us happy again. Did I really want to take a chance on disrupting that? What about my writing? It's hard enough finding the time and quiet to write what I do. More children would make that harder. And so on - I came up with many, many objections to what it seemed God might be calling us to do.
While all these thoughts were swirling through my head I slowly began to find myself considering more and more the idea of providing foster care to a child in hopes that we might be able to adopt it at some point. I had always been very opposed to this idea, though, because I know a couple of families that had to give their adopted children back once they got into adolescence. These children were never able to overcome the abuse and neglect of their early years. I also couldn't stand the idea of loving a child and then having to give him back because some relative crawled out of the woodwork or a birth parent cleaned up their act. Did I really want to deal with the emotional baggage a foster child would probably have? The answers were no, no, no! What I would like to do is to come up with $25,000, fly to some foreign country, and bring home a cute, cuddly little girl, who would love me forever. But slowly, my resistance to the idea of fostering to adopt began to crumble more and more.
April rolled around. I had been nearly completely silent on the whole idea of adoption since the previous December. One day Paul asked me, "So what are you thinking about this? You haven't said anything!" I told him my thoughts. I told him that I was scared to death to love a child that might never be capable of loving me back. I could invest years, energy, money, and love into a child that might turn around and stomp all over my heart someday. But even as I said that, I immediately was given a vision of Christ dying on the cross. Isn't that what Christ did for us? He opened up His arms wide in love for the whole world and look how He was rejected. Am I called to do anything less? Paul then said something that made me think. He said, "You know, life is so short. If we can make a difference in someone's life, I think we ought to consider it."
Mother's Day came. I got my usual gifts from the boys and then Paul handed me a small package wrapped in pink, girly paper. I didn't know it at the time but apparently he had bought this gift with a certain amount of trepidation. He told me later he was fully prepared to take it back if I reacted badly! I opened it up and it was a small, pink photo album that said, "Baby Girl" across the front. That was a little puzzling, since we have neither! Inside was a letter that he had written. Peppered with Bible verses to back up his points, Paul wrote that he was committed to doing whatever it took in the next year for us to adopt a little girl. At that point, my defenses crumbled. I started crying and accepted the reality that we were, indeed, going to pursue this.
For the next few weeks, I lived in a state of confusion though. I had agreed to explore the possibility of adoption. But how? Where were we to even start? I explored the international websites and was dismayed by the cost of an international adoption. On some of the applications it appeared that my stroke history might make me ineligible. I could probably figure out how to get the ball rolling on a foster care adoption, but I still didn't know who to call. I remember thinking that I just wished God would drop a baby on our doorstep, so I would know what to do!
About this time, we got a brochure in the mail for the upcoming homeschool conference. I looked through the offered workshops and one caught my eye. It was entitled simply, "Adoption - a Calling." I knew nothing about it, other than the title. I thought I could relate to the title because it seemed like this was indeed a "calling" that we were experiencing. Paul arranged to get off work to attend the seminar with me and we went. It was taught by a couple from the Fort Dodge area. We had never seen them before in our lives. They started the workshop by giving a brief overview of the four different types of adoption - international, private, foster care, and relative adoptions. And then they told their story. This couple has adopted close to 19 children, I think, nearly all of them out of the foster care system. They have one biological child, a little boy born the same month as Sam. I was transfixed by their story. Afterwards, Paul and I stayed and asked this couple question after question.
As we left the room, finally, I told Paul, "I think our family is about to get a little bigger!" But then I added a few minutes later, "But I don't want twenty children!" Paul exclaimed, "Good! Because I don't, either!"
The next day I was wandering the curriculum hall, buying materials for the boys. Suddenly, I stumbled across a booth emblazoned with the name, "Iowa KidsNet." I had just learned the previous day that this was the organization that headed up the foster care and adoption services in the state of Iowa. I talked with the lady there. And I talked with her some more. And some more! And then I called her the next Monday and talked with her again! The first step, we learned, was to take an orientation class. Unfortunately, due to funding cuts, the classes were hard to get into. But she got us into a class that supposedly was full.
The night before we went to this class, we met with our pastor. We both really wanted to get his input into this. I honestly half expected him to tell us that we were nuts. We had enough on our plates and we would be insane to bring another child or two into our home and add to the chaos. But he didn't. He looked at us and told us that he thought we could do this. He said he wouldn't tell that to just anyone, but he had observed us for the past 6 1/2 years, saw the way we parent, and was confident that if God was indeed leading us this direction, we could do it. Wow!
About a week previously, Paul had gone up to camp as a counselor. While he was there he ran into my parents' pastor from Waterloo and asked to speak with him. A number of years ago this pastor and his wife adopted a sibling group of five out of Iowa foster care. So he was able to have a nice long chat with this pastor. And then he spoke with the maintenance head at camp, who I went to school with. He and his wife added a sixth child a few years ago through foster care. They told him both the same thing - there will be struggles, but the reward will be worth it.
We went to the orientation class and came away greatly encouraged. I suspect that the orientation class is an attempt to "weed out" the parents that might be tempted to do foster care for less than stellar reasons (the state does pay a stipend per child per month). We met a couple there who was in the process of renewing their license. They had completed the training 4 years earlier and ended up bringing home a baby girl from the hospital less than six months later, adopting her when she was a year old. But now they wanted to add to their family. I'm not holding out for a newborn, but wouldn't it be something if that's the way it worked out for us? We were fingerprinted at the meeting and turned in reams of paperwork so background checks could be run on us (they came back clear!).
We found out later this summer that the classes we need to take in order to become licensed were full and few and far between. We finally got into a set that would not be beginning until late January. It was a little disappointing, but I reasoned that God had His hand on this and if we needed to wait, then there was a reason. Besides, there's the not-so-small matter of having a bedroom ready for another child. Our plan is to move one or more of the boys down to the new basement, building a room down there, and thus freeing up one of the upstairs bedrooms. And that's going to take a little bit of time. Well, I then got a call two weeks ago letting me know that an opening had come up and we could begin our classes on Oct. 3! We will complete them on Dec. 5th. During that time, we will have our home study and once we're licensed in Dec, we can begin taking children.
My desire, though, is for adoption. I do not have any intention of having a stream of children come through our home. However, we may not necessarily get to adopt the first child that is placed with us. I'm making it very clear to the powers that be that we want to adopt and would prefer to have only children who will soon be available for adoption placed with us. But I'm not sure how much say-so we will have on that.
So this is our news. Am I excited? Yes. Am I apprehensive? Oh yes! I know that we are taking a tremendous risk by opening our hearts and home to a child who has been already been hurt by those that were supposed to protect them. All my previous objections - time, money, resources - are still factors. But this is the thing: they don't matter. When God calls you, everything else falls by the wayside. Will we sacrifice to heed this call? Of course. Will we lose things we might have kept otherwise? There's no doubt.
And, I have to keep in mind, too, that just because we have come this far on the journey and the end appears in sight, we may never actually get another child. There is a possibility that God has been simply calling us to obedience, like He did with Abraham when He asked him to sacrifice his son. Time will tell. Throughout these months, the one thought I have returned to time and time again is this: I don't want to get to Heaven someday and have God look at me sadly and say, "I had so much planned for you - if only you had obeyed."
So, whether I'm on the verge of becoming a mother of one more - or several more - remains to be seen. Whatever happens, though, I know that I have the confidence that we are stepping out in perfect (or in my case, inperfect) faith and obedience. Wherever we end up will be the center of God's will.
And that's a good place to be.
Saturday, September 3, 2011
Glimpses of Hope
It's raining out right now - the sky just opened up and it started to pour. Makes for a sleepy Saturday...well, allergy drugs can do that, too!
Paul didn't work much this week for his regular job. It's that time of year. However, he ended up getting an unexpected furnace install job this week. And the deck addition/ramp he's been doing for our neighbor has been taking him longer than expected. This morning he's up in Des Moines checking on a couple of other small side jobs he hasn't had time for yet. I'm feeling thankful - God is meeting our needs! Paul and Will have to get Will's car going this week (it's hoisted up at our neighbor's in his garage) and Paul suspects that they are going to get back to furnace checks soon at work, which will mean normal 40 hour weeks. Too much going on! His knee has been dealing him fits lately, too. I have a fuzzy feeling that next spring we're going to be visiting the surgeon about that one. He's had trouble off and on the last year and a half or so with that knee. That's the same one he had the operation on in '92.
School is back in full swing now. Will hasn't gotten many days in because of helping Paul, but he'll make those up later. Actually, David has been helping quite a bit, too. We had an interesting situation this week at school with Ben. I won't go into all the details because I already facebooked about this to some of my friends and I've told a bunch of others already. And I hate to be redundant! But anyway, Ben has become aware of some of the emotional needs of one of the students in his self-contained classroom. This little guy is a 6th grader and this is his first year in a new building, room, and with a new teacher. He's having a difficult time adjusting. Ben has mentioned that to me several times since the start of the school year. And then my jaw about hit the floor this week when Ben told me, "That reminds me of when I was in kindergarten and I was so scared." One of the classic traits of autism is an inability to empathize with others. But Ben was not only able to bring up long-ago emotion, but was able to connect that with how his classmate might be feeling. So, he and I talked about ways that he could possibly be a friend to this new little guy.
I was so excited by this turn of events that I just had to say something to Ben's aide. She and I send a notebook back and forth every day, so we can keep each other appraised of Ben's day and night and any concerns that pop up. The thing with special education is that there is such a shroud of privacy around each student. And that's good for the most part. But it made me feel a bit trepidacious (is that a word?) in broaching the subject. But I just had to! So I started this note - "It's probably none of my business, but...." And I just told his aide that Ben was observing what was going on and had a desire to help. I didn't know if there was really anything he could do, but I wanted them to be aware. Well, the next day, I got Ben's notebook back and his aide wrote me this long note about how they took my suggestion and they started having the two boys take walks together. She said the little guy never cried once all day long (and he had been crying every day) and several times that day they had found him with his head just resting on Ben's shoulders. He finally felt safe! She told me yesterday that the same thing happened again.
I'm just thrilled beyond words. I remember how two years ago at this time I was in real despair over Ben. I could not envision a future for him that didn't involve some sort of incarceration (seriously!). My days were SO difficult with him. And now - I am filled with all kinds of hope for his future! I'm just praising God here!
Ben is involved with bowling this fall for Special Olympics. Monday I took him down to Knoxville for his first practice. A bowling alley there opens up their lanes for practice for the kids, which I think is so neat. I won't have to take him every week. His coach has a daughter in the Olympics who attends the same school as Ben so she's going to pick the two of them up and take them and then I'll just have to retrieve Ben. This is going to be interesting because Will has games on Monday nights and then in Oct. Paul and I are starting some Monday night classes in Ankeny, which is located a good hour away from Knoxville. Agh....
Ben also happens to be drug-free at the moment. That was never really one of our goals with him; it just kind of happened this summer. He's been taking Namenda for a couple of years now. I saw changes right off the bat with the drug and then has his dosage was adjusted downward, the effects didn't seem to be that great. But his dr. didn't want to adjust them upward again. However, he started school a year ago and that did a lot to improve those behaviors that we were wanting the Namenda to take care of. Well, this spring Ben's insurance changed and because of that we were going to need to get letters from Ben's teachers stating that they felt he needed the drug in order to function before his insurance would agree to cover it. I'm willing to do that if I need to, but I haven't been convinced of a real need for the drug for the past 6 months or so. So, we decided to just let it go for now. If his behavior or learning spirals downward then we'll do what we need to to get him back on it. And then he's been on a very low dose of Risperdone for the past couple of years because of some aggression toward his brothers. That has totally disappeared so I told the psychiatrist I didn't see a need for Ben to take that anymore, either. So, we don't even have to go back to this guy unless Ben needs to go back on his meds. Anyway, it's all interesting. I figured Ben would be in psychiatric care the rest of his life.
Ben also has somebody new to work with him. Her name is Deana and her card says "counselor." She is going to be coming into our home every Tuesday afternoon and will be teaching Ben safety skills and she'll be teaching him the basics of meal planning, shopping, and cooking. This is part of the services he gets with his new ID waiver through the state. She can also provide respite care if we need it. It's all part of what they call "Supported Community Living" training. His future is on the way!
Sam is running around this morning with a football, declaring, "I Iowa Hawkeye!" The first game of the Hawkeye season just started ten minutes ago and it's on in the kitchen. Fall has officially started!
Last week I got started on my Christmas baking and I was explaining to Sam that that was why he couldn't eat all the treats I had just made - they were for Christmas. His eyes got big and he exclaimed, "You mean, we're going to have Kissmas again?!" Ha, ha, ha...
I got to out with my friend Melissa Thursday night. I needed that! It had been a busy 3 months since we had our last girls' night. But we behaved ourselves and were both home by 11 pm. I think that's because we both have kiddos to get up for school early the next morning! I'll see her again tonight because we're having a picnic at church (indoors, I hope) for the youth group and their families.
Will injured his shoulder last night during the game (which they lost - they are 3 for 3 now!). He's holding it pretty close to his chest today.
Well, I need to get moving on my to-do list. You won't want to miss my next post. It's going to be about some pretty big changes God seems to be leading our family into. I'm finally free to talk about that. I'd write it all out today but I've got too much other stuff I have to get done. It'll happen next week, I promise!
Paul didn't work much this week for his regular job. It's that time of year. However, he ended up getting an unexpected furnace install job this week. And the deck addition/ramp he's been doing for our neighbor has been taking him longer than expected. This morning he's up in Des Moines checking on a couple of other small side jobs he hasn't had time for yet. I'm feeling thankful - God is meeting our needs! Paul and Will have to get Will's car going this week (it's hoisted up at our neighbor's in his garage) and Paul suspects that they are going to get back to furnace checks soon at work, which will mean normal 40 hour weeks. Too much going on! His knee has been dealing him fits lately, too. I have a fuzzy feeling that next spring we're going to be visiting the surgeon about that one. He's had trouble off and on the last year and a half or so with that knee. That's the same one he had the operation on in '92.
School is back in full swing now. Will hasn't gotten many days in because of helping Paul, but he'll make those up later. Actually, David has been helping quite a bit, too. We had an interesting situation this week at school with Ben. I won't go into all the details because I already facebooked about this to some of my friends and I've told a bunch of others already. And I hate to be redundant! But anyway, Ben has become aware of some of the emotional needs of one of the students in his self-contained classroom. This little guy is a 6th grader and this is his first year in a new building, room, and with a new teacher. He's having a difficult time adjusting. Ben has mentioned that to me several times since the start of the school year. And then my jaw about hit the floor this week when Ben told me, "That reminds me of when I was in kindergarten and I was so scared." One of the classic traits of autism is an inability to empathize with others. But Ben was not only able to bring up long-ago emotion, but was able to connect that with how his classmate might be feeling. So, he and I talked about ways that he could possibly be a friend to this new little guy.
I was so excited by this turn of events that I just had to say something to Ben's aide. She and I send a notebook back and forth every day, so we can keep each other appraised of Ben's day and night and any concerns that pop up. The thing with special education is that there is such a shroud of privacy around each student. And that's good for the most part. But it made me feel a bit trepidacious (is that a word?) in broaching the subject. But I just had to! So I started this note - "It's probably none of my business, but...." And I just told his aide that Ben was observing what was going on and had a desire to help. I didn't know if there was really anything he could do, but I wanted them to be aware. Well, the next day, I got Ben's notebook back and his aide wrote me this long note about how they took my suggestion and they started having the two boys take walks together. She said the little guy never cried once all day long (and he had been crying every day) and several times that day they had found him with his head just resting on Ben's shoulders. He finally felt safe! She told me yesterday that the same thing happened again.
I'm just thrilled beyond words. I remember how two years ago at this time I was in real despair over Ben. I could not envision a future for him that didn't involve some sort of incarceration (seriously!). My days were SO difficult with him. And now - I am filled with all kinds of hope for his future! I'm just praising God here!
Ben is involved with bowling this fall for Special Olympics. Monday I took him down to Knoxville for his first practice. A bowling alley there opens up their lanes for practice for the kids, which I think is so neat. I won't have to take him every week. His coach has a daughter in the Olympics who attends the same school as Ben so she's going to pick the two of them up and take them and then I'll just have to retrieve Ben. This is going to be interesting because Will has games on Monday nights and then in Oct. Paul and I are starting some Monday night classes in Ankeny, which is located a good hour away from Knoxville. Agh....
Ben also happens to be drug-free at the moment. That was never really one of our goals with him; it just kind of happened this summer. He's been taking Namenda for a couple of years now. I saw changes right off the bat with the drug and then has his dosage was adjusted downward, the effects didn't seem to be that great. But his dr. didn't want to adjust them upward again. However, he started school a year ago and that did a lot to improve those behaviors that we were wanting the Namenda to take care of. Well, this spring Ben's insurance changed and because of that we were going to need to get letters from Ben's teachers stating that they felt he needed the drug in order to function before his insurance would agree to cover it. I'm willing to do that if I need to, but I haven't been convinced of a real need for the drug for the past 6 months or so. So, we decided to just let it go for now. If his behavior or learning spirals downward then we'll do what we need to to get him back on it. And then he's been on a very low dose of Risperdone for the past couple of years because of some aggression toward his brothers. That has totally disappeared so I told the psychiatrist I didn't see a need for Ben to take that anymore, either. So, we don't even have to go back to this guy unless Ben needs to go back on his meds. Anyway, it's all interesting. I figured Ben would be in psychiatric care the rest of his life.
Ben also has somebody new to work with him. Her name is Deana and her card says "counselor." She is going to be coming into our home every Tuesday afternoon and will be teaching Ben safety skills and she'll be teaching him the basics of meal planning, shopping, and cooking. This is part of the services he gets with his new ID waiver through the state. She can also provide respite care if we need it. It's all part of what they call "Supported Community Living" training. His future is on the way!
Sam is running around this morning with a football, declaring, "I Iowa Hawkeye!" The first game of the Hawkeye season just started ten minutes ago and it's on in the kitchen. Fall has officially started!
Last week I got started on my Christmas baking and I was explaining to Sam that that was why he couldn't eat all the treats I had just made - they were for Christmas. His eyes got big and he exclaimed, "You mean, we're going to have Kissmas again?!" Ha, ha, ha...
I got to out with my friend Melissa Thursday night. I needed that! It had been a busy 3 months since we had our last girls' night. But we behaved ourselves and were both home by 11 pm. I think that's because we both have kiddos to get up for school early the next morning! I'll see her again tonight because we're having a picnic at church (indoors, I hope) for the youth group and their families.
Will injured his shoulder last night during the game (which they lost - they are 3 for 3 now!). He's holding it pretty close to his chest today.
Well, I need to get moving on my to-do list. You won't want to miss my next post. It's going to be about some pretty big changes God seems to be leading our family into. I'm finally free to talk about that. I'd write it all out today but I've got too much other stuff I have to get done. It'll happen next week, I promise!
Saturday, August 27, 2011
It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year...
That's Ben with his grandma at the State Fair last week. He had a dr's appt. this week. They measured him and his height is up to 5'8" now. That's a full two inches taller than I am. All these boys are going to end up towering over me. Even last night at Will's football game I noticed that he is as tall as or taller than the majority of his teammates - which is to be expected, I guess, now that he's a junior.
I am in the throes of allergy suffering now. I'm going to try not to complain too much about it because it happens every August and it will go away sometime in Oct. I'm used to this. But right now I'm not sleeping well, my body hurts, my eyes feel like they have sand in them, I sneeze all the time and I'm drifting through my days in a drug-induced haze. Bear that in mind as you read anything I write in the next few weeks - no doubt, it will be colored by my physical laments. If it's just strange, then that's the drugs talking!
Ben got back to school on Tuesday. He was so happy to be there, his aide told me. I'm not surprised! I did start homeschooling the other two this week. I think they got a couple days in. I'm trying to work more with Sam this year since he'll be 4 in a couple of months. He wants to do certain things, like recite his letters, because he knows them. But he is resisting doing anything with numbers or learning to write his letters. I'm not too worried about it. I'd rather he spend most of his time doing hands-on learning, anyway - namely, playing. Someone from church gave us a bike for him a few weeks ago with training wheels. At first Sam was really intimidated by it but his dad and David have worked with him on it and he's gotten to the point where he can ride around our driveway. But he can't figure out braking and so he runs into the back stoop to stop! I offered to teach him how to use the brakes but he told me he'd rather just run into that thing instead. Ok! So if he wants to spend most of his day doing things like that, I'm good with it.
We got some sobering news at the end of this week. A mom in our congregation - just three years older than me - has been diagnosed with brain cancer. She's had terrible headaches all summer, I knew, but I assumed it was just migraines, with which I am too familiar. Nobody knows yet what the dr's are predicting for an outcome, but it sure doesn't sound very good right now. We know this family quite well. We're not really friends with them, but my heart just aches for them. They've got 4 kids, all pre-teens and teenagers. I can easily put myself in her shoes and I know it's not the possibility of dying young that would bother me. It's leaving my kids without a mom that would be upsetting. But yet, I have to wonder - is that arrogance? Shouldn't I trust that if God were to call me home at a younger age, He would also take good care of my children? But still, you can't deny that losing a parent in childhood has got to have a profound effect on one's life. Pray for the Brace family.
I'm supposed to write a cheerful, encouraging devotional for a blog this weekend, but now this news is on my heart. Between that and physically feeling crummy, I'm not quite sure how I'm going to do that. I found out that FaithWriters has a daily devotional blog. Different members contribute every day. Kristi told me about it. Her posts come out on the 20th of every month. She told me last week that they have an opening, so I contacted the moderator, and now I'm in! Now I just have to come up with something people want to read. When my first post goes up I'll be sure to let you all know so you can see it.
Will's first football game of the season was last night. Like last year, he's playing both JV and Varsity, which means two games a week, every Monday and Friday. I think that's going to kill us, financially! I spent $14 just getting in last night. And a lot of these games are an hour away or so, which is extra gas expense. The team is not very big this year, so much so that this is the last year of their 1-A rating. Next year they go to just "A." I didn't know there was anything smaller than a 1-A! Will did get quite a bit of playing time last night. He's not a real aggressive player, which I think probably has a lot to do with his personality in general. He's so laid-back and gentle that he has difficulty, I think, turning into a mean football machine out on the field. But several times I did see him him plow into an opponent and I'd get all excited and cheer. And then, at one point, I saw one of the other guys try to take him down and I found myself feeling all offended. Silly mommy! You can't take the "mom" part out of "football mom," I guess!
The boys lost night. I knew it was going to be a rough night when the opponent scored a touch-down in the first 30 seconds of the game! Of course, they were playing Carlisle, which isn't even a 1-A school. They just do this first game for fun, although I think it does count. It's called the "Highway 5 Rivalry Game" since both schools are located within 15 minutes of eachother and both are located just off Highway 5.
I had been chatting with one woman next to me on the bleachers during the game. She works in the high school as an associate for a student with Downs Syndrome. That girl, incidentally, is one of the cheerleaders - I love watching her! Well, she knows I'm Ben's mom and that I homeschool the other boys so we were talking. In the course of our conversation I discovered that she is a Christian, which was neat to find out! Then, she leaned towards me and said, "I could never let my son out on the field to play. I don't know how these mothers do it!" I just smiled and said something about trusting the Lord to protect them. Then a look of horror crossed her face and she said, "Oh no! Does your son play?!" I told her he did and which number he is. She exclaimed, "I never would have said that if I had known!" I just laughed because I truly was not offended. I honestly don't worry about Will getting injured on the field. It could happen, obviously, but a lot of things could happen that never do.
I was lucky, later, that I didn't offend this same woman! The dance team came out and performed a couple of numbers. I was bothered by this because I felt that the moves were awfully sexual in nature, just the ways the girls were moving their bodies. Maybe I'm a fuddy duddy or hyper-sensitive because I have boys, but it bugged me. The lady beside me leaned in closer to say something and I honestly expected her to say something along those same lines, since I knew she was now a Christian. Instead, she pointed out her daughter to me who was on the field performing on the team! Ai-yi-yi! I'm glad I let her talk and didn't open my mouth too quickly!
Paul is at the men's retreat this weekend. I had decided long ago that I would not be going this year to the ladies' retreat because I was spending money on my Michigan trip and it would be better to stagger the expense of those two trips (our church retreats cost $45, which is a chunk of change when you're counting every penny). So, a few weeks ago Paul asked me if I was going to the Ladies' Retreat and I told him I wasn't. Feeling virtuous, I opened my mouth to tell him why I wasn't going. But before I could speak he said, "Good! Then I'll go to Men's retreat!" Well, so much for saving money! This year they were offering target shooting and he was particularly excited about that. He even had to call me last night to tell me how good he had done! He'll be home sometime tonight.
Well, off to sniffle some more while I run through my to-do list...
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Fair Fun, Bad Bodies, and Melancholy Musings
I entitled my last post, "Whirlwind" because the weekend I was writing about was just that - a whirlwind of activity in a short period of time. That's what I could call this entire week that just ended, too. My goodness, it was busy! I am hopeful that this next week will be easier - maybe. I had wanted to sit down with my notes from the weekend and re-absorb them all. I wanted to develop a plan for building my "platform" (magazine and blog article successes that a future agent will look at when deciding whether or not to represent you and your finished book). But I didn't get any of that done. This next week is the start of school, both for Ben and hopefully for the other boys. Why I think I'm going to get anything extra done with that going on, I don't know. Unless, maybe falling back into a routine will enable me to get more done. I don't know!
I actually did get everything done on today's "to-do" list. But that's because I gave myself a shortened list. I'm not sure that counts!
Paul's parents came up yesterday to go to the state fair with us. Why a set of 70 somethings would think it's fun to tramp miles all over a hot fairground, I have no idea. I certainly do not enjoy it, and I can't imagine being 30 years older than I am now and being willing to do such a thing. So, of course, I had to spend Thursday cleaning my house. Then we went to the fair yesterday. This year, the weather has actually been milder than normal during the fair. But when you're out in the sun all day, it's still hot. I just really do not enjoy the fair, although most Iowans seem to think it's the best thing since fried twinkies on a stick. Actually, this year's newest "stick" item was fried butter on a stick. That has got to be one disgusting treat! But anyway, the vendors don't change, the animals don't change, the long walking doesn't change. But yet, I keep getting dragged back again and again.
They spent half of today at our house, too, playing board games with the boys. I made a nice lunch and then had to rush off to attend a bridal shower for a friend. They assured me that they would be gone by the time I came home, but they weren't. They were all playing Yahtzee when I walked in.
I think the boys had fun at the fair. Will upgraded his phone at the US Cellular booth and added texting to his line. He's paying for it himself! Ben contented himself with a foot-long sucker that left sticky trails all over his face and neck. David waited all day to buy himself some cotton candy, and I found a sturdy hand-made wooden sword (only $5!) for Sam at one display area. I'm glad somebody enjoyed themselves! Afterwards, we all went to Pizza Hut and I about fell asleep right in my cheese.
My feet and legs were just throbbing when I went to bed last night but they weren't too bad today. That's good because I had enough other aches and pains. My sciatic nerve flared up earlier this week and it's always the worst in the morning, after I've been laying down all night. It's not waking me up in the night any more when I roll over so I know the inflammation is going down, but it's still pretty painful. And then Thursday I dropped my iron on big toe and just smashed it. Fortunately, it wasn't a hot iron. I knocked it off the dryer and it went flying onto my foot. There was blood everywhere - completely ripped away all the skin from the nail. It's nasty - and painful!
Sam has had his share of troubles this week, too. When I came back Sunday night I was alarmed to see how inflamed his poison ivy rash had gotten in my absence. In fact, after I gave him a bath on Sunday evening he just screamed and screamed for a good half hour. Now, I think some of that was him "playing" me, but he definitely wasn't comfortable. I was all set to take him to the ER, but then he did calm down enough to go to sleep. The next day I took him to his doctor. On top of the poison ivy, he had a secondary infection - pus all over his little leg. So we started a steroid/antibiotic cream regimen. He's been bandaged up like a mummy all week long, but he's definitely on the mend now. It never did spread to his face - just his arms and legs.
And we got troubling news about Will's ears this week. We have known for 4 years that he has a hearing loss in his left ear. But I think I mentioned a couple of weeks ago that the dr. who did his sports physical in July thought he had a loss in his right ear, as well. So on Tues. of this week both of us went to see Dr. Greiman, my ENT up at Mercy. Since I am deaf in my right ear and getting older, my left ear hearing is slowly fading. Actually, my report came back good again this year - very little change from last year's test.
But then they put Will in the sound booth and it just about broke my heart to hear the recorded voice instructing Will to say certain words and he was mute because he didn't hear them. I don't mind being half-deaf myself, but I hate that my child is! I have managed to cope just fine and I suppose Will will, too. He's not going to have any choice, but I just hate that he has to deal with this. Anyway, the dr. said that Will has the hearing of a 40 year old man. His left ear is quite severely damaged and the right has some loss as well, although not nearly so much as the other. He's probably going to need hearing aids within the next few years. However, the dr. does not think it is hereditary. He believes Will's loss was caused by loud noises and mine by a fever I had as a baby.
He gave a lot of suggestions for protecting the rest of Will's hearing. I was ready to have him hang up his gun, but the dr. told us that there is a product that should enable him to still be able to hunt. It's called "Game Ears" and apparently it's some sort of headset that actually amplifies the approach of the deer and then shuts down when a gun is fired, protecting the ears. But Will HAS to protect his hearing around power tools (we got him some earplugs on a string to wear) and when listening to music. Even before his appointment, Will went to Walmart and bought some over the ear earphones to replace his earbuds. Although, he has always been really careful when using his mp3 player. It's Ben's ears I ought to worry about when it comes to music.
In the big scheme of things, hearing loss is not that big of a deal compared to other things - including some of the things his brother has to deal with, physically. And I don't think anyone gets through life without having something go wrong with their bodies. But I don't have to like it. And I don't!
We are getting our house re-financed now. The appraiser comes next Friday. So Paul has been working like a madman, trying to get things done enough for the house to appraise where we need it to. He finished the little bit of sanding around the office door and got paint on it. He hung some more shelves up for me out here in the office. He and Will got the wall frame built for the basement and I think they're stringing the electrical and putting up the styrofoam as I type this.He even stuck some drywall up over the bare wall out in the stairwell over the basement steps. The kitchen is getting pushed out that way when we start remodeling it but he thought it would look better for the appraiser with the drywall up. He's so busy. He has a number of side jobs to be moving on, as well. Actually, I'm grateful because hours are thin right now and the side jobs are the only way that we're able to pay the bills. But his head is just swimming with all these details and trying to figure out what to do when. Tomorrow he'll miss his Sunday nap again. One of our neighbors broke his hip earlier this summer when his giant dog knocked him down. His son, who lives with him, has hired Paul to extend out a deck and build a wheelchair ramp for when his dad comes home - which should be happening this week. So Paul has to spend tomorrow afternoon at Menards buying the material for that. I'm grateful, though - grateful for the way God is providing our needs and grateful for my hard-working husband.
I had another thought about the FaithWriter's conference I wanted to share. There was one unique factor about this gathering of people. Normally, when I am in a group of people, there's a good mix of talkers and non-talkers, extroverts and introverts. I used to be more extroverted (as Paul once said, I used to be "fun"!). But age and maybe maturity has changed that over the years. I'm much quieter, especially in a group setting, now. I'm not one to speak just for the sake of hearing my own voice and I am not the person greeting somebody new. Like I said a couple of weeks ago, my Melancholy is really showing these days! But at this conference, there was a whole lot of standing around and looking at eachother. Oh, there were a couple of more spirited women there, but for the most part, everyone was pretty quiet. If a conversation was struck up, then there would be chattering, but it wasn't what you could call vivacious. I puzzled on this a bit and then it hit me: most of these women (and a few men that were there) were just like me! That's what gives us all our creative and sometimes moody edge. Duh! It was definitely a unique gathering.
Well, I think I am headed for a bath. The boys are all eagerly watching IPTV, which airs coverage of the previous day of the state fair. Since we went yesterday, they are hoping to catch glimpses of themselves on tv. There were only 10,000 people there - I'm sure they'll see themselves!
I do need to get Sam to bed. He didn't nap at all. Right now he is alternately standing on, lifting, and sitting on a watermelon that Paul's mom brought for us. I'm thinking this can't end well. I just mopped Thursday - don't want to do it again any time soon. Uh, oh - the kid just retrieved his new sword and brought it out to the kitchen. That watermelon is definitely headed for a bad end!
I actually did get everything done on today's "to-do" list. But that's because I gave myself a shortened list. I'm not sure that counts!
Paul's parents came up yesterday to go to the state fair with us. Why a set of 70 somethings would think it's fun to tramp miles all over a hot fairground, I have no idea. I certainly do not enjoy it, and I can't imagine being 30 years older than I am now and being willing to do such a thing. So, of course, I had to spend Thursday cleaning my house. Then we went to the fair yesterday. This year, the weather has actually been milder than normal during the fair. But when you're out in the sun all day, it's still hot. I just really do not enjoy the fair, although most Iowans seem to think it's the best thing since fried twinkies on a stick. Actually, this year's newest "stick" item was fried butter on a stick. That has got to be one disgusting treat! But anyway, the vendors don't change, the animals don't change, the long walking doesn't change. But yet, I keep getting dragged back again and again.
They spent half of today at our house, too, playing board games with the boys. I made a nice lunch and then had to rush off to attend a bridal shower for a friend. They assured me that they would be gone by the time I came home, but they weren't. They were all playing Yahtzee when I walked in.
I think the boys had fun at the fair. Will upgraded his phone at the US Cellular booth and added texting to his line. He's paying for it himself! Ben contented himself with a foot-long sucker that left sticky trails all over his face and neck. David waited all day to buy himself some cotton candy, and I found a sturdy hand-made wooden sword (only $5!) for Sam at one display area. I'm glad somebody enjoyed themselves! Afterwards, we all went to Pizza Hut and I about fell asleep right in my cheese.
My feet and legs were just throbbing when I went to bed last night but they weren't too bad today. That's good because I had enough other aches and pains. My sciatic nerve flared up earlier this week and it's always the worst in the morning, after I've been laying down all night. It's not waking me up in the night any more when I roll over so I know the inflammation is going down, but it's still pretty painful. And then Thursday I dropped my iron on big toe and just smashed it. Fortunately, it wasn't a hot iron. I knocked it off the dryer and it went flying onto my foot. There was blood everywhere - completely ripped away all the skin from the nail. It's nasty - and painful!
Sam has had his share of troubles this week, too. When I came back Sunday night I was alarmed to see how inflamed his poison ivy rash had gotten in my absence. In fact, after I gave him a bath on Sunday evening he just screamed and screamed for a good half hour. Now, I think some of that was him "playing" me, but he definitely wasn't comfortable. I was all set to take him to the ER, but then he did calm down enough to go to sleep. The next day I took him to his doctor. On top of the poison ivy, he had a secondary infection - pus all over his little leg. So we started a steroid/antibiotic cream regimen. He's been bandaged up like a mummy all week long, but he's definitely on the mend now. It never did spread to his face - just his arms and legs.
And we got troubling news about Will's ears this week. We have known for 4 years that he has a hearing loss in his left ear. But I think I mentioned a couple of weeks ago that the dr. who did his sports physical in July thought he had a loss in his right ear, as well. So on Tues. of this week both of us went to see Dr. Greiman, my ENT up at Mercy. Since I am deaf in my right ear and getting older, my left ear hearing is slowly fading. Actually, my report came back good again this year - very little change from last year's test.
But then they put Will in the sound booth and it just about broke my heart to hear the recorded voice instructing Will to say certain words and he was mute because he didn't hear them. I don't mind being half-deaf myself, but I hate that my child is! I have managed to cope just fine and I suppose Will will, too. He's not going to have any choice, but I just hate that he has to deal with this. Anyway, the dr. said that Will has the hearing of a 40 year old man. His left ear is quite severely damaged and the right has some loss as well, although not nearly so much as the other. He's probably going to need hearing aids within the next few years. However, the dr. does not think it is hereditary. He believes Will's loss was caused by loud noises and mine by a fever I had as a baby.
He gave a lot of suggestions for protecting the rest of Will's hearing. I was ready to have him hang up his gun, but the dr. told us that there is a product that should enable him to still be able to hunt. It's called "Game Ears" and apparently it's some sort of headset that actually amplifies the approach of the deer and then shuts down when a gun is fired, protecting the ears. But Will HAS to protect his hearing around power tools (we got him some earplugs on a string to wear) and when listening to music. Even before his appointment, Will went to Walmart and bought some over the ear earphones to replace his earbuds. Although, he has always been really careful when using his mp3 player. It's Ben's ears I ought to worry about when it comes to music.
In the big scheme of things, hearing loss is not that big of a deal compared to other things - including some of the things his brother has to deal with, physically. And I don't think anyone gets through life without having something go wrong with their bodies. But I don't have to like it. And I don't!
We are getting our house re-financed now. The appraiser comes next Friday. So Paul has been working like a madman, trying to get things done enough for the house to appraise where we need it to. He finished the little bit of sanding around the office door and got paint on it. He hung some more shelves up for me out here in the office. He and Will got the wall frame built for the basement and I think they're stringing the electrical and putting up the styrofoam as I type this.He even stuck some drywall up over the bare wall out in the stairwell over the basement steps. The kitchen is getting pushed out that way when we start remodeling it but he thought it would look better for the appraiser with the drywall up. He's so busy. He has a number of side jobs to be moving on, as well. Actually, I'm grateful because hours are thin right now and the side jobs are the only way that we're able to pay the bills. But his head is just swimming with all these details and trying to figure out what to do when. Tomorrow he'll miss his Sunday nap again. One of our neighbors broke his hip earlier this summer when his giant dog knocked him down. His son, who lives with him, has hired Paul to extend out a deck and build a wheelchair ramp for when his dad comes home - which should be happening this week. So Paul has to spend tomorrow afternoon at Menards buying the material for that. I'm grateful, though - grateful for the way God is providing our needs and grateful for my hard-working husband.
I had another thought about the FaithWriter's conference I wanted to share. There was one unique factor about this gathering of people. Normally, when I am in a group of people, there's a good mix of talkers and non-talkers, extroverts and introverts. I used to be more extroverted (as Paul once said, I used to be "fun"!). But age and maybe maturity has changed that over the years. I'm much quieter, especially in a group setting, now. I'm not one to speak just for the sake of hearing my own voice and I am not the person greeting somebody new. Like I said a couple of weeks ago, my Melancholy is really showing these days! But at this conference, there was a whole lot of standing around and looking at eachother. Oh, there were a couple of more spirited women there, but for the most part, everyone was pretty quiet. If a conversation was struck up, then there would be chattering, but it wasn't what you could call vivacious. I puzzled on this a bit and then it hit me: most of these women (and a few men that were there) were just like me! That's what gives us all our creative and sometimes moody edge. Duh! It was definitely a unique gathering.
Well, I think I am headed for a bath. The boys are all eagerly watching IPTV, which airs coverage of the previous day of the state fair. Since we went yesterday, they are hoping to catch glimpses of themselves on tv. There were only 10,000 people there - I'm sure they'll see themselves!
I do need to get Sam to bed. He didn't nap at all. Right now he is alternately standing on, lifting, and sitting on a watermelon that Paul's mom brought for us. I'm thinking this can't end well. I just mopped Thursday - don't want to do it again any time soon. Uh, oh - the kid just retrieved his new sword and brought it out to the kitchen. That watermelon is definitely headed for a bad end!
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Whirlwind
I made it safely to and from Detroit and here is my report:
I was pretty nervous when I left Thursday. I had already received an email from Kristi (pictured above with yours truly - by the way, that shot there was about the 25th picture taken of the two of us. One or the other of us - usually me - kept objecting to the shots of our double chins) that her flight had already been detoured that morning and I just knew that would happen to me, too! I'm not familiar with flying, only having ever flown once before in my adult life - and that was with Paul who did all the navigating. But it went great!
I'm sure I must have looked like a little kid, so excited. I kept peering out my window and was just delighted to watch the earth fall away as we gained altitude. It was SO neat to be flying on top of the clouds! We landed in Chicago right on schedule and I just LOVED that place - so huge and so bustling (a lot more bustling than the Des Moines airport!). I found that I had to take a shuttle to get to my concourse, which was a surprise, but I managed fine. I landed in Detroit around 9:30 Eastern time and my ride picked me up an hour later.
While I was waiting in line in Chicago, a Chinese young man turned to me and in halting English asked if he could use my phone to call his parents. That made me a little nervous because I'm pretty sure that our unlimited calling plan every month doesn't include service to Shanghi! But he explained that he needed to call his host parents in Detroit - he was a foreign exchange student. Only, his English was pretty limited so he ended up handing the phone to me and I talked with the host on the other end. She ended up calling me back twice verifying flight times. At first I was a little hesitant about helping this guy because, of course, I didn't know him. But then the thought went through my mind that as nervous as I was about flying to Michigan, how much more nervous this young man must be flying around the world and to a country where he couldn't even speak the language well. Compassion won out.
I got picked up and began meeting fellow FaithWriters. That was neat - strange people were hugging me. I recognized the name of one of the ones who greeted me - everything she writes is like gold. But she found out my name and said, "Oh, I LOVE your stories!" The next day I discovered that this gal - Lisa - just got her first book published. And yet, she loves MY stories! I bought one of her books and she autographed it for me.
The hotel was nice and quite a bit fancier than the Comfort Inns that we tend to gravitate towards. Only, for all that fanciness, we didn't even have a fridge or microwave in our room! But we did have Sleep Number beds! So-o-o neat. I'm thinking that our next mattress purchase will have to be one of those. Unless of course, the economy totally collapses in the next 10 years (when we'll need a new mattress), the Chinese take us over to recover what is owed to them, and we all end up sleeping on bamboo mats. But that's a post for another day.
Kristi ended up getting in around 1:30am, after being routed all over the country. We talked until 3:30 am when we finally decided that we HAD to sleep. The next day we slept in until 9:30am and then went shopping. The hotel was very close to a mall and a number of little strip malls, so we just hotfooted over there. Kristi's luggage was lost so she had to buy new clothing and necessities. My luggage wasn't lost, but I'm always up for a shopping trip! It was a really nice time of getting to know one another at a face-to-face level.
The conference started Friday night. I was so impressed with the truly Christian emphasis of it. One of our first speakers challenged us with the idea of are we writers first, or are we Christians first? God may have totally different plans for our life that don't necessarily involve writing the way that we, ourselves envision. I appreciated that.
Saturday was to start with a breakfast. So Kristi and I set our alarm for 6:30am. We were sleeping and all of a sudden I was awakened by Kristi exclaiming, "Is someone breaking into our room?" Well, that wasn't happening, but a transformer had blown outside and so our alarm didn't go off. We had overslept by 35 minutes. But you know, it's amazing how fast you can get ready when the only person you have to get ready is yourself. We were showered, dressed, and make-upped in just 30 minutes. We got down to breakfast and discovered that we were the lucky ones. We still had lights and electricity. Some people had to come down with wet hair because they didn't have any power at all in their rooms. I would have skipped the conference if that was me!
All day long we went from one workshop to the next. I took copious notes and am anxious to go over them again. I learned SO much! But the hotel was losing more and more power as the day went on. And this is August. Granted, August in Michigan is a little cooler than Iowa, but it was still hot. The rooms were dim because the power was lessening and they were hot. Poor Kristi about fell asleep in one session! Eventually, in the late afternoon, full power was finally restored, much to my relief. At one point Kristi and I had gone up to our room and we had to use our cell phones for light in the bathroom!
I had a critiquing session with one of the big editors who was at the conference. This experience took the wind out of my sails a bit. She took one of my pieces and had thoroughly critiqued it. By the time we were done, I felt like I should just put up my pen forever - why did I think I could ever write? But the more I thought about it, the more grateful I became. If I want praise for my writing I already have plenty of people who will gladly give that to me. But those people can't help me advance to where I want to go. This editor can. She knows what it takes. And I don't have it yet. But if I follow her directions, I might just develop it in time. And, really, it was quite generous of this lady to give her time to a lowly beginner writer like me. My desire is that editors clamor for my writing because it's just so amazing. But that's not going to happen. Writing is hard work. And if I want to succeed I'm going to have to get over any pride I've got, knuckle down, and learn how to do it right. Then, just maybe, I may have a chance at success.
Fortunately for my battered pride, Paul had slipped a couple of cards in my luggage. One was a cute "Miss You!" card that he had labeled for me to open on Friday. The one that I opened on Saturday was breath-taking. It was a card that said, "I believe in you" and he had written this letter in there about how he did just that and how he knew I could make this happen. I ended up tucking that one in my purse to pull out and read again on the way home. It was so special.
We finished up the conference on Saturday night. There was some big meeting going on next door and they were so loud that we could hear their music and yelling clear across the hall where we were having our little conference. But yet, prior to our evening sessions, the coordinators for the other meeting had come over and demanded that WE keep it down and not interrupt their meeting. Whatever! (eyeball rolling here).
Kristi and I turned in early Sat. night (well, prior to midnight - early for us!). She had to be up at 3 to get her ride to the airport at 4. We asked for wake-up calls for both of us, but we never got them. I could not shut off my brain that night. Even on my lovely Sleep Number bed, I tossed and turned. Finally, at 12:30am, I got up and tried to lightly cover Kristi's eyes with an extra pillow. She had assured me that if I wanted to watch tv it wouldn't bother her sleep, but I wanted to be extra careful. Well, I think she thought I was trying to smother her in her sleep, because I woke her up! Anyway, I watched stupid, mind-numbing tv until I was finally able to turn in for good at 1:30 am. Then, I woke up at 3 with Kristi and sadly said good-bye to her. :( I was up by 7:45.
You know, besides the conference and besides Kristi, what I really enjoyed about this trip? The solitude. Unless you live a life like I do where you are constantly being talked to and needed for something, I think it's hard to appreciate just how wonderful it is to be totally alone. I had an hour or so in the hotel room all by myself and I had hours alone at the airports and on the planes. It was wonderful! My mom assures me that thirty years from now I won't find alone time quite so amazing, but I sure appreciate it right now!
A couple of the other Faith Writers took me and another lady to the airport and I ended up having 3 hours to myself in the Detroit airport. My flight was nearly an hour late. And I sat in there and froze. It was rainy outside and cool inside. Eventually we boarded and ended up in Chicago again. Now, I was supposed to have about an hour layover in Chicago. But since my flight was late, I no longer had that time. I figured that United would probably put me on another flight but I wasn't sure what the protocol for that was - could I amble through the airport, miss my flight, and then assume they would get me home via another plane? Or was I expected to do my best to catch my planned flight? I decided to opt for the latter, which is really unfortunate, because I would have loved to have more time to explore O'Hare. As it was, I raced from one end to the other, trying to get to my gate. I wasn't running, but I sure was walking fast! I went so fast, in fact, that I gave myself some pretty nasty shinsplints. My hip, which had been bothering me slightly all weekend, completely went out and I've been in some serious agony since then.
But I made my flight! As I got to gate B7, they were loading the last of the passengers. I gasped to the clerk as I handed him my boarding pass, "Is this Des Moines?" Funny man replied, "Actually, this is Chicago, but the flight is headed for Des Moines!" Grrr....
And then we began descending near Des Moines. I looked out my window and I could see the track at Simpson College where Ben participated in Special Olympics this spring. And then I saw the water tower in Norwalk and could clearly read the town name emblazoned on the side. We landed and I turned on my phone which immediately began to ring and I could see that I had three messages. My phone had been silent for my entire trip...back to reality!
I walked off the plane and rode down the escalator. And my family was waiting for me, all smiles. Sam told me he had not missed me, but I think the others did. We went out for ice-cream and I regaled them all with my adventures and then we went to church, where I nearly fell asleep.
I want to go back. Maybe not next year, but some other year soon. I need to go back so I can keep learning. And I will enjoy myself each time I go. But the best part, I suspect, will always be when I ride down that escalator and see all my men.
Waiting for me.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Itchiness
Will is home for good - hence, this picture. Actually, this was taken the Sunday before he left for his last two weeks up at camp. Sam and I went and got him, along with another camper on Friday. That pretty much took up my whole day.
Will came back and immediately got into some poison ivy. I thought he'd gotten into it up at camp, but apparently, it was from pulling weeds around here on Sat. He was so miserable by Sunday night. It was all over his face. So I finally just took him to the ER at Blank at 11:30 that night. I don't think it was an emergency, but he couldn't sleep and I really wasn't going to have time to take him anywhere on Monday. Plus, he was to start football practice first thing Mon. and I wanted to know if it was even ok for him to do that with this stuff all over his body (it was). So, he's on steroids and Benedryl now, along with $20 worth of creams I bought yesterday for him. Now, Sam has something going on on his left leg. He's got a couple of really hard yellow blisters and a rash, along with a couple of deep scrapes. I don't know what it is! If it's still bad tomorrow, I'm going to see if the dr. can see him when I take Ben in for his allergy shots. In the meantime, I'm treating it as if it is poison ivy, too - minus the steroids.
I leave the day after tomorrow for my Michigan trip! I'm starting to get excited - still nervous about the solo flying, but excited for the trip. I feel like my writing is in such a rut - I'm hoping what I learn will shake that up. Plus, it is going to be so much fun to spend time with Kristi!
I have been struggling with depression for the last month, too, which is really unusual for me. Perhaps this get-away will loosen the hold that this blackness has on me? I feel like I've been living on St. John's Wort for weeks now and I've even contemplated getting a prescription. But I had a bad experience with Zoloft about 10 years ago and I've never wanted to be on anti-depressants since. It's just very irritating because my normal self is generally pretty happy and content with life and when that is suddenly not my first nature anymore, it makes me even more depressed! Needless to say, I am quickly developing an empathy for those that struggle with this condition on a daily basis for most of their lives. Ugh! I hope this passes quickly!
A number of years ago, like back in the 80s, the rage in Christian circles was to figure out your "personality" type, based on 4 predominate personalities. I knew then that I was what they called a "Melancholy", but I had strong Choleric parts to my personality as well. Well, I think the Melancholy is finally taking over. Sigh...Not that being one is a bad thing, necessarily, but I do think they are more prone to depressive episodes. I should find that book sometime from the library and read up again on the personalities, just for fun - or insight.
I got the results back on my Factor V Leiden test - negative. I was so sure that I had it and I found myself disappointed with the results. I wanted a reason for my stroke 4 years ago and had so hoped that this was it. But I guess it's not. So, that means that the possibility of another stroke is still hanging over my head, as I guess it probably will all my life. But, I could also get hit by a mack truck tomorrow (or die in a plane crash) - there are no guarantees of anything in life! The boys are pleased though, because they were not thrilled with the idea of getting tested themselves.
I took the boys in for their 6 month dental check-ups last week. No cavities, but the dentist is telling me that David is probably going to need braces at some point. I questioned him about his lower teeth, which are a concern. They are coming in awfully crooked. His top ones aren't so bad. So, now I have a referral for an orthodontist. I still need to call him. The dentist said there's no real hurry on this (good!), but I suppose we should plan on using some of (or all) next year's flex spending money for it. I am not sure what insurance will cover. David is kind of freaking out about the possibility, but I'm not going to ruin his chances of snagging a good wife because he doesn't have a nice smile!
Last Monday I was at the school, dropping off Ben's registration and my CPI forms for the other boys. I ran into the mother of one Ben's classmates and so I struck up a superficial conversation with her. I asked if they had gone anywhere this summer and she sadly shook her head. I immediately felt like an idiot because her son is very, very autistic and has some extremely difficult behaviors. They probably have difficulty going anywhere, let alone on vacation. So, I contritely said, "Oh, it's probably hard for you to go anywhere, isn't it?" She shook her head again and burst out, "My husband left me this summer!" Oh! I felt horrible! I hugged her and told her how sorry I was. We ended up becoming Facebook friends and have been chatting back and forth over the last week. But wow - and I think I have reasons to feel depressed!
It looks like we are re-financing our house. I'm letting Paul take care of that. I have enough to worry about. With the bank we are going with, we'll even cut 3 years off our mortgage, without raising our payments. But now he's on a tear now to get things fixed up before the appraiser comes out in a week and a half. We've debated about moving and that may still happen at some point, but I think we're going to wait until Ben is closer to finishing school. And, rather than sell this house, we'd really like to turn it into a rental property at some point. But for now, it's just our house.
Last week when I got Will we stopped at a Subway and Sam announced that he could "read" my cup. I asked him what it said and he began to spell out, "S...U...B...W...A...Y" I said, "So what does that spell?" Sam triumphantly announced, "It says, 'pop'!"
Well, I had better keep moving. I am meeting a friend of mine from church for lunch. She's actually a 23 year old college student, pursuing her masters in music. She and I struck up a friendship a few years ago and now she wants me to help her find some clothes for this next year of school. She may know music, but I know fashion! Well, I know fashion for 40 year olds, that is. I'm not sure how much help I'll actually be!
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