When "Bad" Things Happen to "Good" People

If you're reading here, most likely it's because of a connection you have with Down Syndrome. I mean, that's why this blog was started. My sister set it up for me, because she said I should share my stories of our life with Joshua. It's been a great outlet for me, and possibly...maybe...hopefully...it has brought some encouragement to others who are walking a similar path.

If you don't know, we got the "surprise diagnosis" of Down Syndrome when Joshua was born...meaning, we didn't know about his diagnosis before his birth. Because of my age (26), and the fact that he was my first child, very little testing was done during my pregnancy. I pretty much had a picture perfect pregnancy, with no red-flags, and no reason for concern.

What I don't write a bunch about on here, is that 10 years later, I gave birth to our fourth child, Clark, at just 27 weeks, 4 days. It was a pregnancy full of complications. Even tho he was very premature, and weighed just over 3 pounds, he was relatively healthy, for his gestational age. After 7 1/2 weeks in the NICU, he came home, and all was well...chaotic, with 4 kids...but well...for almost 2 years.

A few weeks after Clark's 2nd birthday, I was lovin' on him, like Mommies do...and I felt a hard place in his abdomen. I told Jim about it, and he said, "it's probably just the way he's sitting." Well, I sat down, and I didn't feel a hard place like that in MY belly...but Clark wasn't acting like he felt all that bad. I remember him being a little fussy, but I blamed it on teething. I mean, who goes straight to thoughts of cancer in a perfectly healthy toddler? Still, later in the week, I was at the pediatrician with one of our other kids, and I casually mentioned it to the doctor, and asked him to check it out.

Fast forward to that night, after a day full of rushing around having tests, we were admitted to Arkansas' Children's Hospital for surgery. Clark, our baby, had cancer. He had a malignant tumor, the size of a man's fist, growing out of his liver. He had surgery to remove the tumor, and part of his liver...and began his chemo regimen a couple of days later. His cancer was contained, but it was fast-growing...so it was treated aggressively.

It was during this time that the questions and comments started...people asking "why?"

Why do bad things happen to good people?
Why do believers have to suffer?
Why do children have to suffer?
Why would God allow this?
It's too much.
This.can.not.be.
Does God still heal?

In 2010, a sweet, young couple in our church were expecting their first child. She'd had a miscarriage or two, but this one seemed to be "sticking," and we were all so excited. But, after an ultrasound, their world came crashing down. Their child...their son...was deemed to have complications "not compatible with life outside the womb."

They were presented with their options. We all knew what their choice would be. They believe that life begins at conception...and that God is in charge of life and death. They chose to carry Karston...that's what they named him...to term, knowing that, unless God intervened, their son would die at birth.

And they prayed. Oh, they prayed. We all did. The parents were in ministry at our church, and the students really rallied around them. Our church, our community...we all banded together for one common goal: we prayed for God to heal Karston.

Karston's parents were so faithful. They were vulnerable, hopeful...and raw. Many times during our worship services, I would see Karston's big, ol' dad...arms stretched wide, face up to Heaven...pleading with God for a miracle.

What a testimony it would be if God healed Karston. It would have lit our community on fire for the Lord, no doubt. I could just imagine the lives that could be reached for eternity!

This was all the stuff I was telling God...the reasons I was giving as to why He should heal Karston. I'm sure He loved hearing my opinions on what He should do.

I remember a conversation with Karston's Dad. We were talking about trials...and the different people we knew who were facing extreme difficulties in their lives. He said, "I'm just glad that my trial is only for 9 months."

I took that to mean that he was thinking it would all be over then: the anxiousness, the sleepless nights, the waiting, the pleading, the unknowing, the hoping...it would all be done in 9 months, and then they could move on.

But you and I know it's not that easy, right? There are scars that come from trials that stay with us forever. And over the next few days, weeks, and months, my heart ached as I watched them come to terms with that. Like, I ACHED for them. I think, for me, it's easier to go through something myself...than to watch someone I love go through it.

Does that make sense?

The big revival I imagined would happen if God healed Karston? It didn't happen. But what did happen was like what happens when you fan an ember. It was slow...steady...quiet. Lives were changed. Friendships were formed. Hope was rekindled. Faith was renewed. Strength was evident. Relationships were created. Seeds were planted. Jesus was found.

And we are still telling this story today...of two parents who recognized the sovereignty of God in the most difficult of situations...who remained faithful in the midst of a great trial...who were able to praise God after experiencing the unimaginable...who tell this story over and over, and point to Jesus as the source of all good things...and who continue to give God the glory for the son who took one breath, and was whisked to Heaven.

Why do bad things happen to good people?
Why do believers have to suffer?
Why do children have to suffer?
Why would God allow this?
It's too much.
This.can.not.be.
Does God still heal?

You know, it's okay to not know all the answers. It's okay to answer, "I don't know," or "I agree...I don't understand that, either," when someone starts asking these questions around you.

I don't know how a plane works, but I get on one, and trust it to get me to my destination. My husband works for a utility company, but I don't know how electricity works, really. I just know that when I flip a switch, the lights come on. I don't know how medicine is made, but I take it if I need it. I didn't make that chair...but I trust it to hold me. There's a lot in life that we don't understand.

I don't know everything about God. What I do know about Him, about His character, I know from what the Bible says. It tells us that God is good...that He loves us...and that He has a plan for us. It tells us that a thousand years is like a day to Him. It tells us that our lives are like a vapor.

One of my most favorite passages is the Bible is found in John 9: 1-3: As Jesus was walking along, He saw a man who had been blind from birth. “Rabbi,” His disciples asked Him, “why was this man born blind? Was it because of his own sins or his parents’ sins?” “It was not because of his sins or his parents’ sins,” Jesus answered. “This happened so the power of God could be seen in him."

And this is what I believe about this, in a nutshell: some things are caused by God, and some things are allowed by God...I don't know which things, and I don't understand it all. Sometimes I don't agree with it, and sometimes I don't like it. But I came to a moment in my life when I had to lay it all down...my will, my way, how I think things should be...because my will is easily influenced by my circumstances, and my way is many times wrong, and because there are situations when I really DON'T know what is best. Because I believe in Him, I believe that He loves me...and I believe that He is "for" me, and wants the best for me.

I believe that God doesn't waste any of our experiences...He is refining us, teaching us to depend on Him in all situations, strategically putting us in places where He can use us to bring comfort and encouragement...places where we can share our stories...places where we can point to HIM. He is bringing us in line with His will for our lives. These trials we are facing? He will bring us through them, or He will bring us home. 

The Power of ONE-October 9, 2018

I'm kind of slacking in the blogging department, I know. I still LOVE it, and I still long to leave some things for my children and grandchildren to read...but life is keeping me on the go!

Or maybe I just need to be more disciplined.

Probably the discipline one.

Anyway, this is October: Down Syndrome Awareness Month.

Or, as we like to call it in our family: The Month of Joshua's People.

Every day I am trying to post a thought or a memory about our Down Syndrome journey. I should just link it to the blog, or link the blog to Facebook...but this blog is the last avenue I have to share from my heart. Now that Joshua has Facebook and Instagram, I have to be more careful in the things I know he will read...because I never want to hurt his feelings in any way.

Anyway, if you want to keep up with the daily posts this month, you can follow me here.

I know I post a version of this every year in October, but I can’t help it. Every time I think of how God went before us in this journey...how He was working on our behalf, even when we couldn’t see it...I can’t help but share this story. 

Because it’s all so unlikely. 

Unlikely that a little Kindergarten girl would befriend a very different little Kindergarten boy...and that they would be friends all the way through school. 

During Joshua's 2nd year of Kindergarten, he met Lindsey Walker. Lindsey's mom was a teacher at their school, and they lived in our neighborhood. I don't know how it happened, or why, but Lindsey Walker latched on to Joshua...and would not let him go. She became his friend, confidant, protector and helper. 

Her family also went to our church, so she and Joshua were in Sunday School and children's choir together. He couldn't get away from her if he tried! 

Lindsey Walker told him what to do and when to do it. She helped him when he needed help...and even sometimes when he didn't! She fought WITH him...and she fought FOR him. She was a friend to Joshua, and a blessing to this Momma for sure! 

Joshua and Lindsey Walker stayed friends all the way through school. I think they were even football managers together in the 7th grade. They graduated together, and Lindsey headed to college...to be a TEACHER. 

Joshua's life would've been quite different without Lindsey Walker, I'm certain of it. 

If you are a parent, tell this to your kids...if you're a teacher, tell your students...if you're a student, understand this: never underestimate the influence you can have in the life of even ONE other person. 

All that Joshua accomplished in school first started with ONE teacher who believed in him...and ONE little girl...who took a chance on an unlikely friendship with ONE little boy...and it made ALL the difference in the world. 

"The heartfelt counsel of a friend is as sweet as perfume and incense." Proverbs 27:9

On Moving Kids to College

This is for everyone who's asked if it gets easier...moving kids to college.

This was Logan's first year, 2010.

Jim had a conflict on the scheduled Freshman move-in day, so we got permission to move Logan's stuff in early (so Jim could help us with the heavy stuff), and then Logan came back home for a couple of days.

This picture was taken the actual morning he was leaving, driving to his college...to stay.

I think my face says it all.

Although Logan was so happy, I felt like my heart was ripping wide open.

I guess that's kind of part of parenting...where you give your whole heart, and pray like there's no tomorrow; where you train them up the best way you know how, leaning on God, and looking to Him for wisdom and guidance...and for strength each day.

And then you let them go.

Over and over again.

That part, for me, never really got that much easier.

After all, when this picture was taken, Holly was starting her senior year of college, so I'd already been through this drill 4 times!

All you Mommas (and daddies) out there...my heart is so tender for you this week.

"So the Lord answers, “Can a woman forget her own baby and not love the child she bore? Even if a mother should forget her child, I will never forget you." Isaiah 49:15

Our Kids and The Tackle Boxes

When our kids were little, my mother-in-law got them tackle boxes, similar to this one, to hold their favorite toys. She thought they were the greatest gifts ever, and they really were! 

These “toy boxes” went EVERYWHERE with us...to visit the grandparents, to the beach, to fancy (and not fancy) hotels. They held all the favorites...like army men and Star Wars toys. 

I remember one year...we all tagged along on one of Jim’s business trips, and we got to stay in NICE hotel. The lobby was beautifully decorated with flowers and plants, and there was a huuuuge tower of fancy glasses on a table. All I could think of was, “please, Lord, don’t let my kids knock that over!” 

Jim was up at the counter, checking in, and trying to act like he didn’t even know the hooligans behind him. I was trying to corral 4 kids, who had been cooped up for hours in the car. They were crashing around the lobby, each carrying those plastic toy boxes...dropping them on the marble floors every time they stopped running. 

Quite a different scene from the professional men and women, with the matching luggage, and the leather briefcases...who were milling around the lobby; men and women wearing dark suits and dress shoes, sipping fancy drinks on their way up to their rooms. 

Because then there were: THE GARLANDS. 

Jim kind of groaned when he turned around and saw all of us. He couldn’t get us to the elevator fast enough. Our luggage cart was stacked with mismatched bags and totes. We also had a box that said “blow-up bed” on the side...because even tho we got a room for 4, we were a family of SIX. I remember we had one of those inflatable duck things kids use to float in the pool...hanging off one side of the luggage cart. 

One of us was not amused at the situation, but the other one of us laughed til she cried...because this picture was everything that Jim was trying hard NOT to be in front of his colleagues. The big kids were carrying their plastic toy boxes, and crashing into everything. They were fighting over who got to push the elevator button...and I’m pretty sure we left a trail of goldfish all the way to our room. 

The staff asked us if we wanted a complimentary drink. I was thinking, “you have GOT to be kidding!” Who looks at a scene like that, and thinks, “we should really offer these parents alcohol?” I mean, if they really wanted to make our visit pleasant, they would’ve offered to watch the kids. 

Because what we really wanted...was a NAP.

"Let my soul be at rest again, for the Lord has been good to me." Psalm 116:7

The Insight of Joshua: Jesus is the Scarlet Thread

“He won’t ever...He will never...He can’t.” 

These words have been said to me about this one...many, many times. 

Well, you know what? 

I’ll iron his clothes, if he’s afraid he’ll burn himself. I’ll cut up a piece of meat for him, if there’s ever a situation when he can’t. I’ll figure out how much change he should get back, or how much to leave for a tip. 

I will do my best to make sure he always feels comfortable, safe, and welcome in our home. 

And I will drive him anywhere he needs to go, every day for the rest of my life, for as long as I am able. 

Because this insight right here? I’ll take it. Every.single.day: “[God] used a Passover lamb to represent His future promise of deliverance.”

"In the beginning [before all time] was the Word (Christ), and the Word was with God, and ^[b]the Word was God Himself." John 1:1 (Amplified Version)

Kroger, The Young Me, and The Missed Opportunity

I missed an opportunity today.

I was in Kroger, and another lady and I were trying to turn our buggies down the same aisle at the same time. I motioned for her to go first, and she said, "no, really..." and she took a deep breath, "I don't even know."

And right then, I saw the young me.

The young me at the grocery, with 4 kids, and a mile-long list.

The kids would be talking non-stop, and I could not even hear myself think. I would look at my kids...and at my list...and say under my breath, "I don't even know..."

Like, I don't usually have trouble striking up a conversation with somebody at the grocery.

Oh, it's definitely not my nature. But about 20 years ago, this month, I was stopped in my tracks by the reality of how short life is...so I am continually in the process of training myself to speak up.

I looked at this lady as she passed by: a child walking by her side, one sitting in the buggy, and an infant in an infant car seat.

And then she was gone...and I missed it.

I missed telling her that I understand, that she had a beautiful family, that it wouldn't always be so hard.

I missed asking if she needed any help.

I also missed RESISTING THE URGE to tell her that the years are short, but the days are long...or telling her that, one day, she'll look back on these days and smile.

Me missing making comments like that was probably a blessing, because no Mom wants to hear some old lady telling her things like that, when she's in the middle of the grocery store with a bunch of kids, AMIRIGHT?

We have opportunities to show kindness every day...if we will just open our eyes to see what's going on around us, and if we'll just take the time to do it.

"So let’s not get tired of doing what is good. At just the right time we will reap a harvest of blessing if we don’t give up." Galatians 6:9

A Scary Friday Night: Salt Bowl 2018

We moved to Bryant, Arkansas in 2007...Jim was transferred with his job. Because Logan was starting high school, and we knew this would likely be a harder transition for him than for Clark, Jim told Logan he could choose which school he wanted to attend: Benton, Bryant, Bauxite, Central...even Arkansas Baptist (now Baptist Prep). 

Logan chose Bryant...I think because of their football program, but I could be wrong. 

We had never heard of the Salt Bowl, but we were so excited to see what it was all about. All we knew was that it was a rival game, and that the game...and the events leading up to it...was about bringing the community together. 

Not all the football boys got to go with the team on the bus, and very few sophomores got to go. Logan was a sophomore, AND a new kid...he certainly didn’t expect that he would go...but somehow he made the list! 

During Salt Bowl week, Coach took the boys to War Memorial Stadium for a “walk-through.” 

Logan says he can remember walking through the tunnel and onto the field. He told me how he looked up in the stands, and tried to imagine what it would be like on game night, when it was filled with people cheering. 

In Searcy (where we used to live), football was big...but in Bryant, it was even bigger. Logan couldn’t believe he was going to be playing under the lights on that field! 

In the week leading up to the game, there were pep rallies and team dinners and media opportunities...all gearing up for this one big game. 

And everyone in town was going. I mean, of course they were. Little kids, big kids, grandparents, business leaders, church groups...it was so fun, y’all. My friends, Stacy and Tori, came that first year...and it was so great to have familiar faces sitting beside me. 

Fast forward 11 years to last night. Jim, Joshua, and I talked about going to the game, and bringing Rhodie...but since it was so hot, we ended up keeping him at home. 

Hearing the reports of the events of last night make me angry, frustrated, and sick to my stomach...because even if the reports of gunfire weren’t real (and I had friends there who said it was, and others who said it wasn’t)...the FEAR was real. 

And watching families jump up from their seats, and run...was real. 

And seeing mommas turn around and scan seas of panicked faces, looking for their children...that was real. 

What really got me was watching those football boys, and the cheerleaders, sprinting off the field to the exits...because I remembered my own football boy and his cheerleader, and the years they participated in the Salt Bowl. I know they would’ve been the ones running TO each other...they always and forever run to each other...because nothing on earth would make him leave without her. 

For the ones saying the panic was unjustified...you do you, and stay calm and help. 

Everyone else was just doing the best they could in a scary and uncertain situation...and sometimes that is not well thought out and rational. 

We might all be a little jumpy...with good reason. 

This is the world we live in now, where every “safe” place...churches, shopping malls, marathons, ball fields, concerts...is a potential battleground. 

Yall, I’m so frustrated. 

WHY CAN’T WE DO FUN THINGS ANYMORE? 

Ugh. 

I’m so very thankful for both teams of athletic trainers that were providing aid. I’m thankful to the police, and other first responders, who were there helping. I’m thankful for the parents and friends who gathered children who weren’t their own, and calmed them down, and kept them safe, and contacted their parents. 

I hope and pray that the ones responsible for causing this ruckus are punished, because they ruined this night for everyone. 

It takes so much time, money, and energy to put this thing on, and I’m sad for everyone who worked so hard to prepare for and invest in this event. To have it end like that is disappointing and discouraging. 

But Bryant and Benton are both great communities. I’m certain they will come together to make changes and implement strategies to ensure that next year’s Salt Bowl is even better!

"For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but one of power, love, and sound judgment." 2 Timothy 1:7

We Are Bound For the City of Joy!

At the end of choir practice last night, we spent some time sharing prayer requests. My heart was heavy, hearing some of the challenges and trials people are going through. 

I’m a pretty upbeat person, most days. Humor has helped me navigate many of the ups and downs of life, and I try to see life through that lens when I can. 

But some things are just serious. 

And hard. 

Because, do you know what’s not funny? Cancer. Abuse. The death of a spouse or a child (or a mom or a dad or a friend)...loss of a job, chronic illness, being a caregiver, a wayward child, watching someone suffer, drug abuse, mental illness, and so much more.

Christians are not immune from trials, but how is it different for us? Or how should it be different for us? How do we reconcile suffering...with the goodness of God? 

JESUS, that’s how. 

He doesn’t always change our circumstances, but, if we let Him, He will change our hearts, give us a new perspective, and give us the strength we need to meet each day. 

When my Dad was first diagnosed with Parkinson’s, several years ago, he told me, “God has been good to me for my whole life, and I don’t believe He will stop now. But I will praise Him in the hard times, as well as in the good times, because He has blessed me far more than I deserve.” 

Oh, to have an attitude like that! 

The song we are singing in church this Sunday is called “City of Joy.” 

Listening to friends share the deep needs of their families and friends, I was thinking how perfect it was that we had just sung these words: 

“Oh I’ve heard about a day,when that trumpet sounds: the sky will crack wide open, and our feet come off the ground. And I’ve heard that we will see Him, as all the saints bow down. We are bound for, we are bound for the City of Joy! Oh what a day that is gonna be, when our Savior we shall see....and the curse of sin and suffering is finally destroyed. We are bound for the City of Joy!” 

"For this world is not our permanent home; we are looking forward to a home yet to come." Hebrews 13:14

Climbing, Carrying, Weight-Lifting, and Camping

I shared this picture on my Facebook, and it.is.everything.

Everything I want for Joshua and his friends: inclusion, acceptance, compassion...and everything I want all of us to strive for: creativity, boldness, and a willingness to think outside the box.

And not just THINK outside the box...but to actually look at a problem, determine a solution, and ACT outside the box.

Inclusion is what Joshua's Therapeutic Recreation program is all about. But, ya know, there's the "hey, come sit with me at lunch," kind of inclusion...and there's the "hey, I will strap you on my back and carry you up the climbing wall" kind of inclusion.

Now, to be clear, the person carrying this girl is an employee of the climbing center. But I'm certain this isn't his first rodeo. After all, they have the equipment to do this. We love our friends at our climbing center.

Y'ALL..how would this be if we all thought like this?

If we all saw someone who was left out of a group or activity or experience, and figured out a way they could participate?

I just watched a documentary about 3 guys who carried their best friend on their backs on a trip to Europe. Hiking, walking, riding...each of them taking turns carrying their friend, using a specially made back-pack. For THREE WEEKS. All because they knew that most of the things they wanted to do, and the places they wanted to go, were not accessible by wheelchair.

Look at the picture I posted again. See the wheelchair at the bottom? That's where this girl sits most of the day, every day. Can you even imagine the elation of being able to experience something like the climbing wall? Of being lifted out of that chair, and strapped to the back of someone stronger? How freeing would that be? And when the climber asked her, "how do you want to come down...fast or slow?" She said, "FAST!"

One person, y'all.

One person looked at an obstacle, and figured out a way...and carried a child on their back up a climbing wall.

I'm so thankful for the staff at Joshua's Therapeutic Recreation group, because this type of stuff happens on the daily. They see an obstacle as a challenge...as a problem that just hasn't found its solution yet. And then they work together to figure out a way for everyone to participate...because why wouldn't they? And why can't they?

Because there's the literal "wall climbing..." like in this picture, and there's the figurative walls they climb every day: the misconceptions they shatter, the opinions they change, the barriers they break down.

I'm so thankful for the friends who told us about this awesome program...and for the amazing staff.

The past two years, at Joshua's Powerlifting Competition for Special O, there is an athlete who is unable to move from the waist down. I don't know who decided that Powerlifting would be the event for her, but she does it. She can't do the dead-lift part, but she does the bench-press.

This is how it goes: she wheels herself up to the bench-press. Two men take her out of her chair, and strap her legs to the bench. She follows the commands to lift and rack...and the two men come back, unstrap her legs, pick her up, and strap her back in her wheelchair.

Y'all. I can't even tell you how moving this was to watch. In a room that is usually filled with noise...you could've heard a pin drop as the men took her from her chair, and got her settled. When she made her lift, the crowd erupted in cheers. And as we were all wiping our faces, and trying to regain our composures, one lone voice, heard from one of the other athletes, after everything settled down: "EASY PEASY."

And we all died laughing.

But there's this...one person. Or, in her case, two people...saw an obstacle...a big one...and they figured out a way for this athlete to compete. 

When our youngest 3 kids were little, they started going to Kanakuk Kamps. It's a Christian sports kamp, located in the Branson, Missouri area. This kamp has constant and scheduled activities, great meals...and a purposeful focus on the spiritual life of every kamper. Holly was our first one to go, the summer before she turned 10. Logan started going the summer before HE turned 10. Clark started going when he was 7.

WHEN HE WAS 7.

Now, in a normal situation, I would not have sent my 7 year old to Kanakuk. I know people do it all the time...but that's not me.

But Clark was very familiar with the Kamp and Kamp life. Every year, when we picked them up, he couldn't wait to hear all the stories. He would sit attentively in the closing ceremonies and listen to the message...taking in all of the kamp surroundings. He would listen excitedly, as the kids would introduce their friends, or point to certain places at kamp..."that's where we eat...that's where we play basketball...we rode that trail through the woods." There are a lot of kamp cheers and kamp songs at Kanakuk...Clark learned them all. He could not WAIT for his turn to go.

When I signed up the other kids, Clark begged to get to go with them. The thing that pushed me to say "yes" this particular year, was the fact that this would be the only year that all 3 would have the opportunity to be there together...because Holly would be graduating. My reasoning for allowing Clark to go at age 7, was that the other two, Holly and Logan, would watch out for Clark during the week. In reality, they barely saw each other. #momfail

My point here is that Kanakuk is a place that would be hard for Joshua. He would not be able to keep up with the physical demands of most of the activities. His gross motor skills were not on the same level as his peers. And because he thinks differently than others, he would require extra eyes on him at all times. We love Kanakuk, but it is not a kamp that is accessible for all kids.

Enter: CAMP BARNABAS.

Some friends told us about this other camp in Missouri called Camp Barnabas. They said it was for kids/adults with special needs. Not gonna lie, I'm pretty protective, and overly cautious, when it comes to Joshua. I was a little skeptical of what this camp would be like...but I checked it out, and it looked legit. Plus, he would have two friends from home, who would be there at the same time, so at least he would know somebody.

Camp Barnabas is a Christian sports camp for kids and adults with various challenges. At this camp, they play and sing and dance and walk and climb and swing and swim and canoe and do archery and shoot bb guns and eat and...did I already say "dance?" Because there is a lot of dancing at Camp Barnabas! For the week they are there, they are loved and VALUED, and they are taught they are WORTHY in the eyes of a loving God. And it is the PERFECT place for Joshua and his friends.

Camp Barnabas came about because of a little girl named Lauren, who attended Kanakuk for several summers. Her last summer there, she spent a lot of time in the nurse's office...complaining of pain in her leg. When her parents came to pick her up at the end of the term, nurse Cindy told them they might want to have Lauren's leg pain checked out by a doctor.

Unfortunately, Lauren, ended up being diagnosed with cancer. She had her leg amputated, lost her hair, and endured months of chemo. Still, she wanted to go back to Kamp that next summer, and she did...but that's where she realized how much things had changed for her. She looked different, she felt different, and, even tho her friends were empathetic to her situation, she couldn't keep up with her group. Mrs. Cindy was the nurse again, and asked Lauren what her ideal kamp experience would be like. Lauren described a place where different was normal; a place where someone missing an arm or a leg or all of their hair...wouldn't get a second glance; a place where everyone was on crutches or in wheelchairs; a place where no one would feel isolated.

And that's how Camp Barnabas came to be...because of a child's wish...and because of a nurse who was determined to make it happen for Lauren, and for others.

One person, y'all.

One person took a dream...an idea...and ran with it. And got others on board. And changed the perception of disability.

One person looked at an obstacle, and figured out a way.

Over and over again.

In my own life, there have been many times when someone has (figuratively) carried me through a tough situation. Times when I was too weak or too spent or too broken, and they stepped in...walked right into the fire...strapped me on their backs, and carried me through.

What about you? Can you think of times like that...when someone walked with you through a trial? Have you ever done that for someone else?

Because there's the "I'll pray for you" type of person...and we all need prayer, no doubt. And there's the person who regularly encourages in small, but much appreciated ways. And then there's the "I'm coming over...tell me how I can help you right now," type of person.

We aren't meant to go through life alone. We can't. We all need someone to give us a hand-up, a pat on the back...or throw us a life-line. Our Special O athletes, who have special needs, want to compete like everyone else...but they need help. They need us to help make a way for them.

We all have special needs, y'all. We want to live and grow and love and serve and learn but we need help. We need someone to make a way for us.

Someone did. Jesus did.

Jesus is the help we need. He made the way.

"Carry one another’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ." Galatians 6:2

Clark's Trip to Israel

At the beginning of the summer, as soon as the Spring semester ended, our youngest son, Clark, went on a 14 day trip to the Holy Land, as part of his college degree.

He left us an itinerary, and a book with a little bit of history about the things they were going to see and study. I did my best to read and follow along each day. 

This quote, in one of his books, really stood out to me on the first day: “This land that cradled our Christian faith, where Christ was born, where Constantine established the great Byzantine Empire, that, for all practical purposes, was officially “Christian” until the 7th century...this land became Muslim in one generation, and has been the undisputed domain of Islam for thirteen centuries since.” 

IN ONE GENERATION, y’all. 

Why? 

Continuing, “The simplest explanation is that the Christian church itself had become weakened and paganized...where people had begun to worship images, relics, and saints as part of the Christian faith and practice.” 

Oh my goodness. 

What a responsibility we have to share our faith with others, and to diligently teach it’s principles to our children...because other teachings and religions are racing us to the hearts of our families and friends. 

And, in many cases, they are winning. 

The Christian faith is not built on any man or woman, dead or alive, but on the PERSON of Jesus Christ...that He came to earth, lived a sinless life, died on a cross for your sins and mine...and rose again on the 3rd day. 

However great a pastor is, a Bible study teacher, college professor, denominational leader, or any of the well-known authors and speakers...don’t get your theology from their words alone. BE CERTAIN they line up with Scripture. 

A couple of months ago, I stayed home from church with my baby grandson, and I watched an on-line church service from a different church. The pastor was not as “polished,” as many might prefer...and the words from his sermon didn’t leave me feeling “good” about where I am in my Christian life...just a plain ol’ pastor speaking plain ol’ truth from the Bible. 

I think sometimes we let the emotions of our times blind us from the fact that there is no good in us; that we are all sinners in need of a Savior. 

And, I think sometimes, we just want to hear someone tell us it’s all gonna be okay, so we sit there and let them...and then we bask in that and talk about how great those words were...because the truth that things are never gonna be okay this side of Heaven seems too hard to bear. 

But no flowery words from any podium, however beautiful or poignant or timely, on their own have the power to convict or save. 

Oh, how we all want to hear a message of peace and love...but peace and love are found in Jesus ALONE, and in the words He left us in the Bible.

"I have told you all this so that you may have peace in Me. Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world.” John 16:33

Night To Shine 2018

Back in Febrary, we went to an event that is always one of the best nights of our entire year.

Back in February, we went to Night to Shine. Or, Joshua did.

If you're not familiar with Night to Shine, it's an event put on by the Tim Tebow Foundation. It's like a PROM for teens and adults who have various special needs and challenges.

On this one night, all over the United States...and in several foreign countries...these precious individuals are honored at a prom that is just for them.

In a world where only those deemed to be "perfect" are celebrated, this night is always a breath of fresh air. It is the most inspiring, emotional, and motivational night for everyone involved.

Beautiful, loving people...being acknowledged and celebrated for who they are.

Everything is FREE for the participants. They can have their hair and make-up done. If they don't have a dress or dressy clothes, those will be provided for them. They walk a red carpet, and everyone cheers and takes their picture!

There's food...dancing...limo rides. ALL FREE.

Every participant is crowned King or Queen...because, like Tim Tebow says, "that's how Jesus sees them."

Perfect, beautiful...worthy.

Joshua met up with Jenni-the-girlfriend when we got there. This night would not be possible without a ton of volunteers, and churches who step up and host these events. Joshua and Jenni each got a "buddy." The buddies make sure that the participants have someone to dance with and eat with and sit with...there are no wall-flowers at Night-to-Shine!

With Joshua in capable hands, Jim and I went out for a DATE. We had dinner, and then shopped at Bass Pro...which, I realize that, for most people, Bass Pro does not sound like date night. I hear ya. But Jim likes to go there, and I like Jim, soooo...

Plus, it was FAH-REEZING COLD OUTSIDE, and it was warm inside Bass Pro.

Amen, and amen.

When we got there to pick up Joshua, they had just had the crowning ceremony. All the guys had a crown, and all the girls had what Joshua called, "more girlier" crowns. Joshua and Jenni were dancing to a slow song, and it was pretty much the sweetest thing ever.

Joshua and Jenni don't always get along and act sweet. There's almost always some drama. After 10 or 13 years together (depends on which one of them you ask, and if they are getting along at the time), we've seen it all.

Or, not ALL...but a LOT.

They are one of the main causes for my gray hair, I'm just sure of it.

But on this night? They were precious. :)

I have always loved Tim Tebow. I never understood the negative press he got for standing up for his convictions...or the ways he expressed his faith. I love how he has remained steadfast and consistent, in spite of the criticism...continuing to do what God is calling him to do.

If Tim Tebow never does another thing the world deems as "noteworthy," his legacy can be these Night To Shine events. Seriously. He's made my kid, and his friends, feel valued and worthy and celebrated...and that.is.enough.

If you ever have the chance to volunteer at this wonderful event, DO IT. It not only blesses the participants, it blesses their families.

And it will bless YOU.

"But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for His possession, so that you may proclaim the praises of the One who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light." 1 Peter 2:9

More Than I Can Handle

Over the years, I've been told one thing more than any other...I bet you've heard it, too: "God won't give you more than you can handle."

And to that I say, "Ummm...yeah, He will." 

Because, here's the thing: if we could handle it, we wouldn't need Jesus. Right? 

You remember Job? All that he went through in his life...the unimaginable loss and suffering...and yet he would say, "God might kill me, but I have no other hope." (Job 13:15) He knew that, even if he had everything...He would be utterly lost if he didn't have God.

If we could handle everything on our own...death, sickness, loss, abandonment...how would we ever recognize our need for a Savior?

In the New Testament, Paul wrote of the hardships in his life: beaten, stoned, shipwrecked, long journeys; danger from rivers, robbers, from his own people, from others; faced danger in cities, deserts, and on the seas; he worked long and hard, had many sleepless nights; he was hungry, thirsty and cold; many times, he didn't have enough clothing; and he had a great burden for all of the churches.

What God said: "My grace is all you need. My power works better in weakness."

What Paul said: "When I am weak, then I am strong."

I don't know anyone who has been through horrible things like Job or Paul. I'm using them for perspective, and as examples of two people who persevered under great trials.

We all have struggles and challenges...that's a fact of life. What we need: more of Him...less of WE.

"He must increase, but I must decrease." John 3:30

Parenting: Prayer & Persistence

You pray for a safe delivery...that they'll eventually sleep through the night...and for them as they start to school. You pray for them to have friends and to BE a friend, and that they'll choose to follow Jesus at an early age.

You pray for them as they study and date and learn to drive...for their college courses...for a job...for them to choose the right mate.

You pray for them as they start their families, as they begin to figure out how to parent and teach their own children.

Parenting is a roller-coaster ride of highs and lows; times where you raise your hands high with abandon, and times when you just hold on for dear life...in the twists and turns...through dark times that seem to never end, until you burst out the other side.

There were literally a million things, big things and small things, from birth to adulthood, that we quickly realized we could not handle on our own.

Young parents, hear this: YOU ARE NEVER DONE.

You never get to rock back with satisfaction, and say, "I'm done." You never close the folder, lock the door, cross "raising my kids" off your list.

As our children age, our role as their parent changes, for sure...but there is always a need for advice or counsel or encouragement. Sometimes there's a need to just listen.

Actually, I would say there's always a need to listen.

Being a parent involves daily sacrifice. Daily laying down your wants, your needs, your schedule, your plans...for the good of your child.

Nothing in my life has made me fall to my knees more often or more quickly...than parenting these 4 children God gave us.

If you have children, you are in it for the long haul.

STAND FIRM. Don't give up.

"So let's not get tired of doing what is good. At just the right time we will reap a harvest of blessing if we don't give up." Galatians 6:9

Boys, Motorcycles & Parenting

So what had happened was...

SIDE NOTE: Our middle son, Logan, had a friend who used that phrase all the time. Logan figured out real quick that, whenever his friend started a sentence with, it meant a BIG LIE would follow.

But, this story is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth...

For years, Logan, has been talking about wanting a motorcycle.

Every time he would bring it up, I would just say, "NOPE," and go on with my life. Because I'm not interested in my son riding a killing machine, thank you very much. 

Doesn't this make me sound like a grouchy, old, fuddy-duddy?

Get off my lawn!

And, even tho I think I parent with intention, and do my best to try to learn about the things that interest my children...I was apparently not interested in taking the time to listen to my son's heart on this matter...or even entertaining a conversation about something I don't like.

Like a lot of us in America right now, huh?

ANYWAY, a couple of weeks ago, Logan sent Jim some info on a motorcycle he'd found on CRAIGSLIST. 

Which, in my mind, Craigslist is where people go to die. 

You young people turn down your music!

He was wanting to borrow our trailer, drive to Tulsa on the weekend, and pick up this motorcycle. FROM STRANGERS.

When he came home later that week, he talked to us about it. I started off with my typical, "NOPE," and he quietly said, "Mom...I'm not asking."

Because, ya know, he's an almost 27 years old, married man, who has the complete support of his wife on this matter.

WELL.

So fast-forward to later that night: Jim and I crawled into bed. He said, "Moose, I am NOT feelin' this whole motorcycle thing. I don't think it's safe at all. If he does this, he's going to have to pay for it himself...I'm not paying for it." And he went on and on until I stopped him. I said, "you need to have this conversation with Logan in the morning."

And, y'all, I woke up in the morning, and walked into the kitchen. Logan was sitting at the table, drinking coffee. I asked if we could talk about the motorcycle, and he said, "yes." I expressed my concerns about the whole motorcycle thing, and asked some questions...which he answered completely and rationally. And then I did the most awesome thing: I LISTENED TO HIM. 

I listened as he told me about how much research he had done on this particular type of motorcycle. I listened as he told me how he had saved money for this motorcycle. I listened as he told me that he'd bought a helmet, and other safety supplies. I listened as he admitted that he was not comfortable riding a motorcycle yet, so was wanting to keep it here with us until he was. I listened as he told me how he was wanting to ride the motorcycle to work to save money on fuel, and wear-and-tear on his car. I listened as he told me how he dreams of weekends spent riding on some beautiful roads...seeing parts of the country at a slower pace.

I gave him a hug, and my "if you are sure this is what you want," speech, and went back to get ready for the day.

When I came back to the kitchen...just a few minutes later...Jim was back from his run. He and Logan were deep in excited conversation. Those two goons were looking at pictures of motorcycles on the internet, and they were...giddy.

And I heard these words from my husband, the love of my life: "Logan, I know that is a little more money than you wanted to pay, but if it's a newer model with less miles on it, I MIGHT PITCH IN SOME MONEY IF I CAN HAVE FUN ON IT, TOO."

Exxxxxxx...SCUZE ME?

How long did I sleep?

How did, "I'm not for this...it's not safe...pay for it yourself," get to "YIPPEE, LET'S HAVE FUN TOGETHER ON A MOTORCYCLE AND HERE'S SOME MONEY TO HELP?"

I don't understand. 

I knew Jim's family had a history with motorcycles. When we were dating, I remember his youngest brother rode a motorcycle to work or school. When we were first married, I remember that we took that motorcycle on a date...and he taught me how to ride it. I also remember insisting I could ride the larger bike, since I had, ya know, ridden the smaller one for all of 5 minutes. Being a "city girl," I had no clue that cows walk in a straight line...or that that line makes a deep-ish track in the field that is a perfect place for a motorcycle tire to get stuck. Good thing I was only going 2.1 miles an hour, because I tumped that big bike right over.

Jim said that his cousins had motorcycles, back when they were all young. The story goes that Jim and his two younger brothers BEGGED their parents for them, but they were NOT havin' it. 

Until they came home from the motorcycle store with THREE of them.

I'm sensing a pattern in Jim's family: all bark, no bite.

So the bike in Tulsa sold before they could make plans to get it, but they found one about 35 minutes from our home...and, on Saturday afternoon, armed with a wad of cash, they took off to go get it. 

I was more than a little nervous about it. To be perfectly honest, they were, too. But they plugged the address into the GPS, and off they went.

To hear Logan tell it, it was quite the trek. He said they got off the main road, and started taking gravel roads into the boonies. They had to turn around when the GPS led them to a road that led to nowhere, and they had to turn around. Jim said, "I'm concerned that these people might rob us, and then kill us." Logan said that, about that time, they passed a pipe-line area, where TONS of equipment was parked. Logan said, "yep...and that's how they'll bury our bodies."

There's more to the story, but it would require another long post, and this momma is tired. 

They met up with a couple of "good ol' boys." The bike sale was all legit, and everything. 

When the guys asked if Logan if he wanted to start it and ride it, he deferred to Jim...telling the men his dad had more experience...even tho Jim said he hadn't ridden a motorcycle since 1982. 

But Logan said Jim fired the thing up, and TOOK OFF DOWN THE ROAD. When he got back, he said Jim had the biggest grin on his face. He told the men, "IT ALL COMES BACK TO YA, DOESN'T IT?" 

Which, the face, the smile, and that comment are NOT what you want to say when you are trying to negotiate a lower price, amiright?

It's basically why, on the few times we've shopped for cars at a dealership, Jim will tell me, "DO NOT ACT LIKE YOU LOVE THIS CAR." 

So that's what happened over here this weekend. 

"So if you sinful people know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your heavenly Father give good gifts to those who ask Him." Matthew 7:11

"TRUTH ON THE GO" My One and Only Time on the Radio!

I did something new last week: I was on the radio! 

Actually it was on my friend, Andrea Lennon’s, “Truth on the Go!” radio program! 

We taped a couple of episodes for broadcast in a few weeks. I was nervous when I got there, but Andrea and Bethany are such pros, that I relaxed right away. 

In one segment, Andrea asked me to share something I was “passionate” about. Like, what is the thing that fuels me...what motivates me...what means the most to me. 

It took me a minute to formulate what to say, and to think, “what would God want me to say?” 

I’m passionate about Jesus, my family, and making sure the new or “different” people feel welcome. I’m passionate about #advocatinglikeamother for Joshua, and his friends. I’m passionate about letting people know, “hey, I see you...I understand (or I don’t)...you are not forgotten.” 

Because haven’t we all felt forgotten or alone at one time or another? 

I’m passionate about women connecting with each other, which I think is what I ended up talking about. 

What I really wanted to talk about, but there wasn’t enough time, was the importance of the body of Christ. Or, how important it’s been in my life. 

I realize the body of Christ is bigger than any one church, but I love the local church. 

The main focus and mission of “the church” is to reach others for Christ. And, because we don’t want to leave them to face the world on their own, we bring them into our church body...so they can learn more about Jesus, and connect with others. 

Why? 

Because we crave community, and we can find that in church. 

Strength, support, encouragement....people who will walk beside us in good times and hard...people who will pray for us. 

I know that, for some, church has not been a good place...or a safe place. They’ve been hurt by the words or actions of others. I hear ya, and I’m so sorry. We should never, ever gloss over things like that, because they.are.wrong. 

But, in my experience, for every wrong or hurtful thing said or done in church, there have been a thousand good and kind things said and done in church. 

If you can’t find the kind of friends and support you want in your church, then maybe that’s not where you’re supposed to be. 

Or, maybe it IS where you’re supposed to be...being the friend, holding the banner, blazing the way, being the cheerleader, giving support...for someone else.

"And let us not neglect our meeting together, as some people do, but encourage one another, especially now that the day of His return is drawing near." Hebrews 10:25

38 YEARS

THANK YOU ALL for the anniversary wishes! 

Jim and I are enjoying scrolling through them, and remembering each one of you, and the part you have played in our lives. 

We laugh a lot in our family. At Jim, mainly. 

Just kidding...(but really). 

It’s just that when you have one type A+ person in the house...and 5 NOT type A people in the house...it can either be reeeeally stressful, or we could make it fun. 

I said something to Jim the other day, and it got me thinking about what it means to be a “help meet” to him. 

I’m no theologian, but I have a Strong’s Concordance, and it tells me that the first word of “help meet” can mean, “to rescue, to save, to help.” And the second word has a meaning of “exactly corresponding to,” which is like looking in a mirror. I should be Jim’s mirror opposite, and he should be mine. 

Like, I have half the qualities and attributes that Jim lacks. And Jim has half the things I lack. 

And so we fit. 

And so I am a “help-meet” to him in life...and I do that in my own way. 

Which brings me to the other day: I bought some dog trimmers, and told Jim that I was going to try to trim our dog’s hair between groomings. Jim goes, “well, what will you do with all of her HAIR (after you cut it)? And, in the spirit of being his help-meet, I casually said, “I was thinking I’d just sweep it into the pool.” 

Now, if you know Jim well, you know that he loves his pool. He FREAKS when a leaf blows into it, so when I said I was gonna sweep DOG HAIR in there...well, you’ve never seen a head whip around so fast. 

Unless you saw the exorcist movie...which, I never did. 

Now, I wasn’t really gonna put dog hair in the pool...I was just trying to “rescue” and “save” him from a long, boring life. 

Because while he says I lack in things like logic (whatEV)...I say he lacks in humor. But that’s okay...because he has an abundance of logic (yawn), and I have an abundance of humor! 

And we use our gifts and talents in different ways to help each other, and our family. 

Jim helps in serious and practical ways...like, making sure we don’t get too off-track, providing financial and physical security...and things like that. 

And me? Well I believe in majoring on the majors...and minoring on the minors. 

Jim’s glass is always half-empty, and my glass is always half-full...because that’s how I choose to see things. Realist vs Idealist. Realistic vs Delusional. Serious about everything vs serious about the serious things. Sees the facts...sees the people. Has a 7 year planner...HAD 4 KIDS. 

(CANIGETAWITNESS?)

Ying...yang. Ding...dong. 

This is why I sometimes have to push Jim to the edge...for his own good; to show him that not EVERYthing is so serious. I mean, I live in the serious, 24/7, but some things are just funny. 

This is why I sometimes park my car on his side of the garage, and I don’t tell him. And then, when he opens the garage door and there’s my car...for no reason, just cuz...well, that’s funny, right? 

Or why I sometimes purposely leave the light on in a room that I’m not currently IN (gasp!). 

Or why I burn a candle...IN THE SUMMERTIME. 

And it also may be why I sometimes set the stuffed “Barney” toy precariously on the shelf with the coffee cups, so that when Jim opens the cabinet first thing in the morning...It comes falling down on his head, and scares him half-to-death. 

Thirty-eight years today. 38 years of good times, and hard times; of laughing, and loving; of saying the wrong things, and [occasionally] saying the right things; of holding it in, and letting it out; of keeping score...and loving unconditionally. 

Thirty-eight years of sometimes being misunderstood; of letting Jesus have His way...but, more often, demanding our own way; of holding grudges...and forgiving; of hopefully learning from our mistakes; times of being selfless...and times of being selfish. 

Thirty-eight years of hard work, sleepless nights, tears, grief, joy, great friendships, family support, and lots and lots of prayer. 

There’s no one else I’d rather walk with thru life. Two completely imperfect people...saved, sustained, and strengthened by an Almighty God...this is us. 

Marriage is sanctifying.

"This explains why a man leaves his father and mother and is joined to his wife, and the two are united into one." Genesis 2:24