God Laughs

(Me and my buddy)

I had no idea... I've read Leonard Pitts, Jr. for some time now, and never knew.... Maybe it's why he resonates so with me?

I was just going through some old emails I'd saved over the years, and found this...



GOD LAUGHS
by Leonard Pitts, Jr.
Published Saturday, August 5, 2000, in the Miami Herald

An old joke: "If you want to give God a really good laugh, tell Him your plans."

LITTLE BOY TEACHES ME HARD LESSONS

The way I figure it, I must have the Almighty rolling on the floor by now. See, I've never been short of plans. I planned to have my last child off to college in a few short years. After which, I planned to travel, planned to play, planned to walk around the house in boxer shorts whenever the mood struck.
I didn't plan to be raising a little boy with autism.
He's not even my child. Rather, he's the 4-going-on-5-year-old son of my 23-year-old stepdaughter. She, in turn, is my life's great heartbreak, an unstable young woman financially and emotionally incapable of raising her child. And since she won't identify the father, guess who has custody?
Then, about a year ago, the other shoe falls -- we learn that our grandson is autistic. I've been struggling with it ever since. Whining, really. It's not fair, I moan. Don't I have a say in what happens in my own life?
I had plans, God!
Stop it, laughs God, hammering the floor, You're killing me!
I've gradually come to believe there must be a larger point to this. Lessons to be learned. In struggling with God and autism, I struggle with myself. My selfishness. My lack of faith.
Maybe you've read the serenity prayer. It says: "God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference."
So easy to say. But it's hard to be serene when the steering wheel of your life has been yanked from your hands.
Autism, the dictionary says, is an "abnormal introversion and egocentricity". In other words, the autistic person lives alone in a world of his own. His ability to interact, to even acknowledge others, is limited. There's no known cure, though, thankfully, my grandson's case has been characterized as mild.
Even so, he can carry on only fragmentary conversations. Sometimes, you'd swear he's just ignoring you. He finds it hard to follow simple instructions. He's still in diapers.
There's no way of knowing to what degree those things will change. No way of knowing if he'll someday be capable of living on his own.
He's a happy little boy, though, and right now, that's all that matters. He sings the Power Rangers theme song. He loves Chicken McNuggets and broccoli -- pronounced "brocky". He beams when he shows "Paw-Paw" drawings he made in school. He learns new things all the time.
And he teaches, too. Indeed, though he has no way of knowing, Paw-Paw is his No. 1 student.

PATIENCE REQUIRED

An autistic child demands patience -- a virtue, the cliché says. To which I used to respond: "Yes, but it's not one of mine."
But an autistic person perceives the world differently. Where you see the forest, he sees a tree. And then another tree next to that. And another tree next to that. A hundred. That line in the serenity prayer -- the one about having the courage to change the things you can -- resonates differently with me now. Individual trees, each exerting its own pull upon his attention. So you're walking over some landscaping rocks and suddenly he pulls up short because he has spotted this one rock out of the thousands and it fascinates him. What can you do? Simple. You stop and admire the rock. You take a few more steps, then stop and admire another rock. And next time, you keep to the sidewalk.
The lesson is patience, but not only that. It's also surrender. It's learning to release something that was never really in your hands anyway -- meaning control of your own destiny. And it's faith, too.
That line in the serenity prayer -- the one about having the courage to change the things you can -- resonates differently with me now than it did before he came. Because it turns out that one of those things I must be brave enough to change is me.

GIVING UP CONTROL

I think it will make me a better person. But the process is not easy. It's hard to accept that sometimes, you just have to surrender the wheel and see where it takes you. And that when God is laughing, you might as well start laughing, too.

Home aroma

Yesterday, I had to meet the man from Budget Blinds at the new house to measure windows. As we need three weeks to get them all ordered and delivered for installation, the realtor was nice enough to meet us up there and let us in. The homeowners were both out of town, so it worked out nicely. I knew it would also be a good opportunity to take Sam there in order for him get the lay of the land before we move. It really helps him to know where he's going, as it lessens his anxiety. I also knew to expect him to be a bit negative, for that is how it always goes when he is faced with situations which cause him stress.

The very first thing he noticed was "too many bees" around the yard. All the hosta is in bloom, and there were gladiolus by the mailbox being visited by bumblebees. As he is allergic to bee stings, it's a healthy fear, but he assumes they are after him regardless of whether he is annoying them, and so hates to be anywhere in the vicinity of them. I quickly walked him up the sidewalk and into the house shielding him from the worker bees. After showing him his rooms upstairs, the main level, and the basement, he explored a bit then came back into the family room, sat down and said, "I don't like that it smells funny. Let's move someplace else."

It got me to thinking about how each home does have it's own unique aroma, but we're normally just not that conscious of it unless it's unpleasant to our olfactory senses. Because his senses are so heightened, he notices smells immediately. We've been places before where he'll comment that it smells just like Grandmommy's house, or like Nana and Papa's house, or even that it smells like Barnes and Noble. Who knows why there does seem to be a predominate aroma in our homes. Maybe it's partially the cleaning products we frequently use, or the colognes we enjoy that adds to the aroma of our homes and makes them distinctly our own. But I reassured him that once we were there, it would both smell and feel just like home. Later in the evening he said, "I think I can like it there." That's my boy.

A change in the air

As I have mentioned before here, once we got Sam's diagnosis and I cried for the first year, I then began frantically searching out how to best help him. I found a parent group on-line and embarked upon an intensive home based behavioral intervention program which was touted as a way to potentially help your child with autism to become "indistinguishable" from their peers. Yes, I was going to eradicate this horrid problem out of my child. I was going to rescue him like Catherine Maurice did her children, detailed in her book, Let Me Hear Your Voice. I put on my battle armor, entrenched myself in his rescue, and for the next two and half years, was driven like a mad woman with blinders on. Nothing mattered except forcing Sam to live in our world, and not just his own. My marriage almost fell apart, but I was a woman on a mission. Must kill autism... must help Sam. We finally got him to the point where he could be admitted to a regular kindergarten and I felt my work was done. He was not where I'd hoped he'd be language-wise, but other than that, he could make it, I just knew it. It was that year that we purchased this house and moved. The move was symbolic of leaving behind all that strife and sadness. We were getting a fresh start. We could begin again, before autism ripped our lives apart.

But, alas, once Sam was ready for first grade, it was apparent that his disability made it impossible for him to be in a regular classroom. My world came crashing down around me. I must not have worked hard enough. If only I'd done more, worked longer and harder, he could have done it. So, all my planning, working, and sweating and perseverence had not rid him of the autism after all. I sought out a friend and counselor who said to me, "If you keep placing him in a position where he has to struggle constantly to keep up and perform, whose needs are you serving? What is that doing to his self-esteem?" Thus began a time for me to come to terms with the fact that autism would always be a part of him, and would pretty much define our lives forever. I never gave myself credit for the gains he did make, and it took years to be able to wrap my own arms around myself and say, "You did enough."

Our lives then became defined by dealing with his limitations. As he grew, and his interests narrowed, we had to make allowances for what he could and could not handle. We didn't have friends with kids his age because having people here with their kids would make him become unglued with them trying to touch and play with his things. We didn't go places because his limited tolerance for outside, the heat, and bright sunlight made outings a chore instead of a pleasure. In many ways our lives became very limited as it only takes several time of being disappointed by his reactions to new journeys before you cease to take any journeys at all. Autism ruled. It was all about making sure he could handle things in our world, and so we began living in a social bubble here at home. It was safe, it was serene, and without disappointment.

Now, we see that yes, autism is a part of who he is and who he'll always be. Yes, he has limitations. Yes, he needs his space and to feel secure in his environment. But, we need lives as well. We need to be able to engage in the world while letting Sam be Sam. As much as this move is about finding a place with more space and light, it's also about finding the space and light within ourselves again. It's about moving forward, finding our own needs for social connections met, even if Sam does not wish to participate. Because if he does not choose to or won't, that's OK. Life goes on. And so we start the next chapter of our lives, embracing what we know we cannot change, and yet reaching out for more. A change is in the air.

God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.

Living one day at a time;
Enjoying one moment at a time;
Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;
Taking, as He did, this sinful world
as it is, not as I would have it;
Trusting that He will make all things right
if I surrender to His Will;
That I may be reasonably happy in this life
and supremely happy with Him
Forever in the next.
Amen.

--Reinhold Niebuhr

Jesus loves porn stars

When I saw this story on ABC News this past weekend, I had to laugh. I did not laugh at the idea of the Bible, mind you, but at the interviews with people who were "blatantly offended" by these Bibles being handed out at a porn convention. The mastermind behind this movement is a young minister named Craig Gross who operates the XXX Church site and whose mission is to help people break their addiction to porn.

This is a description of the JLPS Bible... The pocket-sized edition will include a brief introduction, part of which will read, "Does Jesus really love porn stars? Absolutely. Now that may go against what you thought about Jesus but it is true. You see, Jesus loves porn stars as much as he loves pastors, soccer moms, liars, thieves, and prostitutes. In his eyes, we are all the same. We're all just people in need of a savior who can come into our world and fix our messed-up lives."

Don't guess I've ever read any words more true than that. But, leave it to the fundamentalists to be outraged and call this Bible blasphemous. Their lip talk says "love the sinner but hate the sin" right? So why would they have a problem with Craig Gross meeting people where they are and showing that there is an alternative which does not judge, but just says, "you can be free?" As Craig said in the ABC interview, if one person picks this up and opens it, and it speaks to them in a way that makes them want to see life differently, that's all we're about. I think Craig is the kind of pastor Jesus would hang out with any day.

Really giving

WOW... Last week I read a wonderful op-ed by my fav columnist, Leonard Pitts, Jr. which addressed the fact that Bill Gates is stepping down from Microsoft to devote more work to the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation, and how we all can make our little dent in the world. Yesterday, news spread quickly that Warren Buffett of Berkshire Hathaway plans to make the single largest charitable gift ever to the Gates Foundation. It will amount to some astronomical figure of $30 Billion (yes, with a "B") dollars and double their current assets. The Gates Foundation is already doing so much to address global health issues and education of our children.

Warren Buffett was quoted years ago as saying that he was leaving the bulk of his fortune to charity because one should leave "enough money to your kids so they can do anything, but not enough so they can do nothing." I like this man! Did I mention he owns my husband's company? There is a strict code of ethics one must sign and adhere to when going to work for a Berkshire Hathaway company. I like that too. How wonderful that so many lives will be forever changed due to the philanthropic generosity of two of the world's richest men. They apparently are rich in spirit as well. I salute them and think this will change the world in many ways.

All the stars and planets aligning

The border is off the bathroom wall upstairs, the bathroom walls downstairs are washed of the oil leaching from the primer underneath paint, the closets are straightened out, Sam's closet door is primed and painted, and the "For Sale by Owner" sign is in the yard. All that's left to repair is the fan in the half bath downstairs. Well, that and cleaning this house up spic-n-span before someone actually calls wanting to see it.

We got a call from the realtor yesterday to let us know that the closing can be moved up to July 18th instead of the 26th. That may just make it possible to move before school starts back August 7th if we can get the carpeting installed in the bedrooms during that time and take care of some other details we wanted to address before moving. It's as if everything is just coming together so easily. As if this entire adventure was so meant to be. I can't even believe that only three weeks ago, I was so filled with the fear of facing this potential change, and yet now, I know with every bone in my body it is what we needed to do. Funny how you can go from full out fear to embracing change in such a short time if you only allow yourself to be brave and look forward. We've been oh-so-stuck in the day to day routine of life, that we never even dwelled in possibilities until we had that vacation time in Hilton Head. I am filled with gratitude for life kicking me in the backside and jogging me out of my rut. I am reminded each day to read the plaque my mom gave me years ago when I faced another seemingly overwhelming situation... "Don't be afraid to go out on a limb... it's where the fruit is."

House number 185

In just two hours, I will be leaving to head over to the Episcopal Easter House that my church is helping to build for Habitat for Humanity. I've never worked or been involved in a habitat house and I am excited. We, along with other Episcopal churches in this area, are pulling together to construct a home, which will be number 185 for this city's Habitat office. This started back in late April, so now it's needing mostly inside work. I am pretty darn good with a paintbrush, let me tell you. We've painted every wall in this house a color besides ecru. How fun it will be to be a part of creating a home for someone. A place they can call their own, and take pride in owning.

By the way, found out last night that a little hot water, a tongue held just right, and a putty knife will do a bang up job removing border from wallpaper without destroying the paper underneath. Ok, well, a few nicks here and there, but who's looking that closely? There was a border running along the middle of the wall in Sam's upstairs bathroom which was peeling away, and which he helped along, meaning it all had to come off the wallpaper. Seeing as how our wonderful builder put ALL the wallpaper in this house over unprimed drywall, I was not about to try and strip it off, so I had to either find the same border (impossible after eight years) or get the border off without damaging the wallpaper. Thankfully, they had not used an excessive amount of glue. Now, I can mark that task off my list. We need to paint Sam's closet doors, and do some touch-up here and there and we're ready to put our For Sale By Owner sign in the yard. Being as excited as I am about our own impending move, it makes helping this Habitat family even that much sweeter, as I know this will change their lives in so many wonderful ways.

Paying attention to God's creation

(A familiar friend at Hilton Head)

The one thing I know for sure is that in the scheme of things, we are small. When we assume that human life is it, we cease to live outside our own brains and lives. I am reminded of this each time I feast my eyes upon the birds I love to watch so dearly. Once you start actually paying attention to something in the world other than your job, personal strife, or how much life is costing you, it's only then that you can then put things into perspective. It's so easy to become overwhelmed in life about things fully beyond our control. By stopping to look around you at God's creation, you can then see the trees in the forest. You can smell the roses, and appreciate the beauty of the birds.

I watch them, my bluebirds specifically, as they spend all their time and energy seeing that each year, they bring forth several new broods into the world. They work tirelessly first hatching them, then feeding them, then teaching them to fend for themselves. It's quite beautiful and moving to witness the cycle. Just yesterday, dad bluebird came flying into the feeder followed by the latest three to fledge. It makes me smile to remember to focus on the things that really matter in life. It's a privilege to have so much beauty around us to soak up if we only look and listen. It seems that no matter where I am, or where I go, I notice the birds. I always see bluebirds around me, and enjoyed the one in the photo above who was tending to a new nest in Hilton Head. It's as if God just sends them to me as a reminder to dwell in the light...

Pure excitement

Yesterday, we met with a local bank and got approval for financing. Yahoo! They will create a "bridge loan" for us which will be paid once we sell this home, so that we don't have to worry about borrowing a larger amount for the mortgage. Everything is going so smoothly, it's amazing. We have the home inspection scheduled for tomorrow, and the bank is ready then to send out the appraiser. In my perfect world, we could close before July 26th, but I'm betting that the family who is relocating further South, don't yet have a place to go, and so we'll have to be content with waiting until the first week of August or so to move. We've ordered our own "For Sale By Owner" sign to stick in our own yard by the first of next week. We have a few touch up things to take care of around here, but we're pretty much good to go.

We catch ourselves just grinning ear to ear every time we think about the way this has all unfolded. I talked to neighbors last night to let them know we were moving, and to tell them that if they know anyone interested in buying our house, it would be lovely for them to be able to pick their new neighbor. One neighbor does have someone in mind, and will let them know. Now that would be the icing on the cake indeed if we sold our home that easily. All of this has really booted me out of the deep rut I've been dug down into, that's for sure. I feel as if it's a new adventure and a fresh start in many ways. I have this feeling that this move will transition our lives into being fuller, more engaged, and fulfilled. I simply can't wait, even though I know the moving part won't be such fun. However, it too, is a good time to let go of unnecessary things which don't need to clog up our lives any longer. It's all just so cathartic...

Guess it was meant to be?

Yesterday morning, realtor called to say that "there was indeed already another offer on the table" and did we want to "sweeten our offer?" Seems the sellers would "decide which offer they wanted to counter." Cat and mouse, cat and mouse... Husband told him, "No, we gave our offer and it stands." We had decided that if it was meant for us to get this home, we would, and pretty much knew that the other offer was more than likely higher than ours since we purposely started low to give ourselves some bargaining room.

We came home and began discussing that we'd continue to look in that vicinity as we really liked the neighborhood. We knew that we'd learned much from the experience of dealing with realtors who gush that they "have your best interests in the forefront" and smiled at how we'd stuck to our guns. Yes, a good first learning experience in the world of cat and mouse real estate games.

Then, at 6pm, the phone rang and it was He Who Wanted Us To Sweeten The Pot calling to say that the seller had decided to counter our offer, and not the other one. Hmmm... was there ever really another offer? Who knows... Then, around 8:30pm, we were emailed their counter offer, and wonder of wonders it was even lower than we'd thought they'd counter! We let him stammer on a bit before letting him know that we'd accept the offer.

Holy cow, three weeks ago, we were sitting on the deck of the house in Hilton Head making a decision to move forward on finding a place with more light, more room to grow, and BAM! Now we are closing on a new home which is beyond our wildest dreams in July. No doubt, this was just meant to be.... I am excited beyond words.

Moving forward

Well, we did it. We went to the county tax assessor's office, found out how much the sellers have in their home, and decided upon an offer. The real estate agent came by last night, and we've formally made an offer and put forth earnest money on the home we saw Sunday. We really can see ourselves living there. The walls on the main level are already painted the same color as the walls in our current home. And, one of the bedrooms upstairs where Sam would be (on the other side from the master bedroom, thank you) is already painted Thomas the Tank Engine blue, just like his room here. Coincidence? Hmmmm...

Of course, the agent shares that "he knows another party is interested in the home" and "hopes our offer will be accepted before someone else makes an offer," but that we should expect the sellers to counter. I hate the cat and mouse game of all this. Yes, I want the house, but no, I am not paying them the top dollar figure they are asking for it. At this point, I am feeling that if it's meant to be, it will be. We shall see...

Well, now! Welcome PB Schori!

Cool beans! At the General Convention of the Episcopal Church, they stunned the world by electing Katharine Jefferts Schori as Presiding Bishop!! Huh! A woman! Huh! The only female PB in the 85 million member Anglican Communion! A woman who is a scientist and pilot... a woman who can think with her head and her heart. Methinks this is a watershed event in the history of our church, and one which can only show the world that we seriously mean to demonstrate how we value each person's worth in our church regardless of race, sex, or sexual orientation. Whoo hooo! :c)

Fear of what?

I saw this very still bumblebee out by the pool when we were on vacation. He was still moving a bit, but not much, and so he was not a threat to me. Goodness knows I would not have put a macro lens just inches away from him to take a photo had he been exhibiting normal bumblebee behavior.

Because experience teaches me that if I had, he would have defended himself and I would have been left with a very painful sting in his wake. It is good to be fearful of those things which we know can and will hurt us, but what if we let fear hold us back from embracing life? What if we become so focused on the "what if's" that we just stay put and never venture forth for fear of being stung? What kind of life is that to live? I really hate that about myself. I hate that I am so weary of new adventures and changes. I don't know how this became such an issue for me, but there it is.

Yesterday we drove around the county and looked at some houses for sale. Afterall, I said that I want to be in a larger, more open floor plan, right? I said that if we wait until the perfect time to look and move, we'll never look and move forward. Right? Well, we saw a home yesterday that really appealed to us and that we'd like to see on the inside. But as husband picked up his cell phone to call the realtor, I found myself inwardly withdrawing and thinking all sorts of negative thoughts about "what if this" and "what if that." I have simply got to let go of the fear of change and new opportunities ... it is holding me back from my dreams and from living.

"Only in growth, reform, and change, paradoxically enough, is true security to be found."
~~Anne Morrow Lindbergh

Predictability

This has been one of those weeks where I found myself struck by the almost comical predictability of my life. Maybe my awareness has been heightened because when we were on vacation, the time was less structured and planned. Once back home though, we've fallen right back into the daily routine of our lives, which sadly does not change that much from day to day, or week to week. There is some comfort in routine, and as I have noted many times, with Sam, routine equals less anxiety and more calm. I suppose that I have not been conscious of the fact how much we strive to maintain a routine for that reason. But when you find yourself doing things the exact same way at the exact same times each week, it begins to dawn on you that it's so easy to get caught up in the day to day routines that you cease to look outside your daily existence. For husband, that's fine. He likes things that way, but for me... I grow antsy and feel stagnant.

I am the classic ESFJ, needing social interaction with the world to feel alive, and he is the opposite, an ISTJ, who is quite happy to be at home and away from the demands of social chatter. In many ways we compliment one another so nicely. I've brought him out of his shell a good bit, and he has helped me to be calmer and more centered. But, because I am surrounded by two males who find great joy in being out of the fray, I have to find ways to meet those needs I have on my own. Work certainly helps as I am around so many people on a daily basis. I have church as well, but I tend to not be as involved as I could be, since it's not something my family shares with me, and so going to functions alone is not as enjoyable. I need more. Today is just one of those days when I feel that life is passing me by, and I am just letting it whiz by instead of putting myself out there and being further transformed by the experience. I need more, I want more, and I need to make the effort to let go of some of the predictability.

Sound? What sound?

I have been hearing about this new "silent ring tone" that kids have been using so that their teachers can't tell they are text messaging or getting a call in class. Apparently, it's on a higher pitch that "older" folks ...ahem... can't hear. Kids have been even cheating on tests and such by being able to text silently and undetected.

As I was reading the Birdchick Blog yesterday, she had a link to the sound file, and... well... drats! I am officially old as I can't hear a darn thing! Sam came in while I was listening (ok, TRYING to hear anything) and I asked him what he heard. He said, "It's a loud ringing in my ears." Huh? So then later hubby came home and I played it for him. He said, "I hear that. Don't you hear that? Surely you hear that?" Um... no, I really can't hear a blessed thing. Guess I'd better not change careers to become a teacher. Miracle Ear, here I come. Hey Daddy... maybe they have a two for one?

It's almost that time of year again...

Each year, like clockwork it comes, July 1st.... the day the new, clean white coats appear. The older, now hopefully highly educated physicians, fly the coup to become successful practitioners, and the new ones from the year before are finally moved up the totem pole to second year residents. Whew... no longer "just an intern." You can always tell the babies as they have bright shining faces, and very clean, white, starched lab coats. That lasts for oh... a month or so, and then the wrinkles appear (on coats and foreheads), along with overstuffed pockets full of pagers, lab value books, medication guides etc. Then again, many now have all that on a neat little palm pilot. They are eager and perpetually lost in the maze of the hospital corridors.

It's a fun time to get to meet new, excited faces, but a bittersweet time to have to say goodbye to once young, clueless interns you watched for sometimes five years, now emerge as confident physicians, ready to go out into the world. I will miss so many of them. The joke is that it took us so long to train them just right, it's a shame they then have to leave! I know that many of them will go on to very distinguished careers, and will make their mark on the world as they use their expertise to help and heal others. I've worked closely with many, and never met some. That's what I dearly love about a teaching institution. They teach me so much, yet the collaborative learning environment enables them to soak up knowledge from us as well. In the end, it's the patients that benefit as people are always digging, always questioning, always learning together to provide the very best care. I could not see myself working in any other setting and enjoying it as much as I do.

So, good luck and Godspeed to all the residents who are leaving us, and hello to the new interns, full of excitement and optimism.

P.S. Zout stain remover works wonders... and um, nobody really notices the wrinkles. Oh, and don't let your seniors break your spirit. They're just testing your fortitude since you are the bottom of the totem pole. You'll thank them next year and be so much smarter.

Nature's funny way

Behind the fence out by the pool at the vacation house, there were all sorts of large shrubs and palms planted. One plant in particular had these huge shiny green split leaves. Initially, I was not sure what it was. It looked sort of like a philodendron, but I'd never seen one this large, and outdoors. We enjoyed it all week long and commented several times on how very hearty it seemed. One night, as I was walking along the fence line, I happened to look down, and lo and behold, this is what I saw at the base of this large plant. A bloom, which almost looked like a lily, except for the err... center thingie. I googled it to find out that it is indeed a Philodendron selloum which looked just like this happy gardener's photos. Nature is funny indeed... heat producing to boot. Gotta love that!

The rubber meets the road

Thus starts the beginning of the tug-o-war this week. Mata has written beautifully about the big issue on her blog (thanks friend), and so now all we can do is pray....


God, you have called us to work that fulfills your purposes.
This task is important to you, and we treat it with respect,
And we have given our hearts to this work.
At times we see the way so clearly, and we are impatient.
Other times we cannot tell where we are going, and we hesitate.
Calm us and fill us with your peace.
Save us from fear and impatience, from anger and jealousy,
From the selfishness and apathy that break apart your family.
Build up again in our hearts the work you have given to us.
Grant us compassion to hear and strength to serve you in one another.
Give us courage to trust you for the stirrings of our hearts
And to see this work completed according to your will.
We ask this in the name of your Son, who is our heart and mind and being.
Amen.
-- Douglas R. Briggs

Infinite sadness...

My sister was in town this weekend, and while we were visiting, we got into a discussion about how sadly desensitized our society has become. She related to me that she was reading a disturbing story on the USA Today website. Apparently, at a school in Florida, they were offering a CSI type forensics camp for students in the summer. The teacher had planted "clues" which the students had to investigate in order to solve the "whodunit."

As some students were searching out the clues, they came upon the body of a man lying by a fence. A deceased human being, with his hand grasping onto a chainlink fence. Initially they thought it was really cool and that it was a "plant" meant to be a part of the camp, but soon realized that it was indeed a dead person, and in no way connected to the clues they were meant to explore. My sister related that many people who commented on this story at the USA Today website were making all sorts of comments about how funny it was. Not ironic mind you, but funny... as in funny ha-ha. When someone with a conscience responded that finding a dead person was not in the least bit funny, they were flamed by the others and one person actually went as far as to comment that it was "probably a homeless person that was absolutely a no one to nobody" and thus was no great loss. My sister said she was so stunned that she had to reply, and did not stick around to get flamed, but hopes that someone at least felt some shame.

I thought so much about this after I got home, and then became even more sickened when I read the newspaper Sunday morning. As I turned the page to the editorial section, there was this op-ed by Leonard Pitts, Jr. and I almost lost my appetite for the cereal I was eating. When do we cross a line... or do we even define where that line is any longer? What sort of world are we creating for our children? I just don't have words for how much this saddens me...

Our friend, JWC

Back in November of 2002, Sam wondered upon a train web site to explore. He found all sorts of cool photos on the site, and one interested him enough to draw it out (seen here) as he saw it in the photo. He called me upstairs to see it, and as I explored the website, I found that it was part of the site for our local railroad museum. The book it came from was written about the history of the museum, and was authored by a local gentleman. I thought it was cool that Sam was so inspired to "draw" this photo, and so emailed the talented photojournalist and author to share it with him and tell him a bit about Sam and his love for trains.

Thus was the beginning of a most beautiful friendship with JWC. God brings all sorts of people into our lives for various reasons, and our hearts grow by just getting the privilege of knowing them. That's how I feel about our special friend. He has met us at the museum to give Sam an "inside tour" and has shared Sam's struggles and drawings with the "backshop gang" at the museum who work to restore locomotives. Sam knows that JWC is a "railroad buff just like me," and his copy of JWC's book is dogeared it's been enjoyed so much over the years.

Recently, JWC entered the blog world, and created a post that had me shouting AMEN! I think it's how many people feel at this point in time about our skewed priorities in this country, and he's graciously agreed to let me share it with you here. Stop by and visit him at Zamar's Weed Garden.

Adam and Steve

The silly season of politics-cum-kinky is truly upon us where I live, and while I'm pretty-much apolitical, sometimes the salivating solons beg to be called to account. This week (month?) they are drooling all over the "banning same-sex marriage" issue in the name of strengthening families. The goal, of course is to collect campaign contributions and get re-elected or nominated. Oh, and these are the same suits that were (are) out to make burning specific national flags a legitimate crime, like making meth or maybe worse.

(historical note- way back in 1969 there was a day when I raised my right hand and swore to defend this country against all enemies. But the enemies of freedom are not all external, and tough-love compels the patriot to stand equally in the face of both.)

So to those strange bedfellows who can't seem to quit each other, legislators, lobbyists and anyone else of influence in domestic matters in this good ole USA, listen up-
If you want to strengthen families, spend your time (and taxpayer money) re-directing the economy so that families will be able to choose whether one or both marriage-partners stay home with their children. Make mom-care (or dad-care) an option, not just for the wealthy.

If you want to strengthen families, spend your time (and taxpayer money) re-directing the economy so that single parents are not forever stressed over the cost of everything, especially work-hours care for their children.

If you want to strengthen families, spend your time (and taxpayer money) re-directing the economy so that the cost of health care doesn't force families to forgo medicine so they can have food.

I could go on, but there is a rhythm to this, it's drumming,"Re-directing the economy." It should be the work of legislators and yes, lobbyists, who after all are really good at having their way with.... ummm, the disposition of issues and allocation of liquid resources.
Re-directing the economy would be heart and gut-wrenching, not to mention wallet-wrenching work.
Hard decisions.
Sacrifice.
Putting orhers first.
Really working at it.
This is beginning to sound like what they promised faithfully when they were courting the voters, not to mention during the consumation, excuse me, swearing-in day speeches.

Adam & Steve aren't the enemy, Mr. Legislator. The enemy can be found manipulating the emotions of well-meaning Americans for selfish personal and political gain. You have real work to do aplenty to strengthen our country's families. Maybe,
when our economy is family-friendly;
when oil is just another product we use instead of a fiduciary fetish;
when our children can count on a safe environment at home and school;
when eradicating pandemic diseases is more important than smothering political opposition;
when the Iraqi people are truly in control of their own destiny;
maybe then bring up the debate on gay marriage. Maybe by then it will be a non-issue for the majority.

Same goes for flag-burning. It's a form of political commentary I do not participate in, but I once swore to defend freedom, with my life, if necessary. And freedom is more at risk from enemies in suits than those in combat gear.

Morning person

This little visitor came almost each morning in Hilton Head sharing different Carolina Wren songs with us. I never used to be a morning person. As a matter of fact, when husband and I met, I was working 7p-7a in a neonatal intensive care unit. I loved working three days straight and then having four off. But even then, I was a night owl, and slept in. I never knew when we were dating that he was having such a struggle keeping up with my hours, as he was so besotted with me (hehe) that he never really complained about the late nights even though he had to get up and get to work by 8am.

After we got married, I decided I needed to find a job where our hours would be more the same and so began working as a home health nurse. Then the transition began from night owl to morning person. It was gradual, but before I knew it, we were going to bed by 10pm each night. Sixteen years later, I am such a nighttime lightweight, it's not funny. Most nights we don't even make it to ten. By 9:30 we are both yawning and ready for bed. Were it not for TiVo, I'd never see any prime time television. Funny thing is that I have fully embraced my need for restorative sleep. I know that now that I am in my mid forties, it's a necessity to get sleep, and I don't function well at all on little sleep. Now, even on the weekends, we are up by 6am without the alarm clock being set. I love and embrace the quietness and wonder of the early morning. In the early sounds of the birds singing, you somehow know it's going to be a wonderful day...

Jeweled visitor

The hummers are now here in full force, and I am keeping nectar in the frig in a two liter bottle to make sure the feeders stay full. Yesterday, the window feeder was empty, and just after I came back in from filing it up, this little male came right back to the previously empty feeder to enjoy some nectar. He had a look on his face as if to say, "Hey, thanks!" Then again, he could have been thinking, "What took you so long?"

Watching them is so entertaining. I have some tomato cages over my dahlias, and lately I'll see females perching on them as the male does his courtship dance of flying in front of her in an arc, over and over again. She pretends to be impressed, but I wonder if she's yawning and thinking, "Geez... there he goes again... let's just get this party rolling, shall we?" But, men being men and all...

Flowers in the garden

Yesterday, I realized that my pansies had seen their better days. They were starting to look a bit gangly and sparse. Pansies don't like the heat of summer, and so just basically start to wilt away. I was planning to pull them all up this coming weekend, and replace them with something else. Since I was off yesterday and had no plans other than a haircut for Sam, I ended up yanking them all up from my front beds. We went to the garden center, and found that the pickings were a bit slim. I finally found a flat of pretty golden orange zinnias and some flats of red and white begonias to take the place of the pansies. It's such a sense of accomplishment to get new plants in the ground.

This beautiful flower was growing out by the pool in Hilton Head. I have no idea what it is, but it was the only one blooming and caught my eye through the week as it slowly and gradually opened. I still am a major novice with the macro lens, and find that I am often times too impatient to get the camera set up on the tripod, which I'm finding is almost an absolute necessity when you are shooting so close. Regardless, it was lovely, don't you think?

Tall, towering pines

This was the view looking up from the deck/pool area of the vacation house. Hundreds of tall, tall pines swaying in the breeze. The birds were numerous throughout these trees. I don't imagine I've ever seen so many Blue Jays in all my life. There were also many Cardinals as well and the diversity of woodpeckers was impressive too. I would hear the call of the Pileated Woodpecker, but only caught a brief glimpse of a few high up in the tree tops.

I do so miss having tall trees. This neighborhood we live in was developed in what used to be a cow pasture, so most all the trees here were planted by the builders, and so no trees are over 8 or 9 years old. It's just not the same when you have only a few Bradford Pears to entertain nature. I've only seen one squirrel in all the years we've lived here. As we would sit on the deck each morning in Hilton Head, we'd be entertained by huge squirrels chasing one another through the trees. They were some of the largest ones I've ever seen.

Although we were only a mile or so from the ocean, we did not once go there. I can honestly say that though I love to see it's scenery, the ocean just does not call to me like the trees. We had shade, rustling leaves, and breezes to enjoy along with a plethora of wild birds and critters. It just does not get any better than that for me.

The very cool, relaxing pool

Well, the return to work was a busy one yesterday with too many patients and no lunch. Welcome back to reality... bleh. I kept trying to focus on how much fun it was to come back from my walks in the morning and jump into the cool pool. I'm not a huge swimmer girl. Earned my tadpole certificate at the YMCA as a kid, and can swim enough to save myself. Sam likes the water, but does not like to get it in his ears or eyes, and so for years would never dive under. We tried to do swimming lessons through the Sunshine Program for Disabilities at the YMCA, but he just flatly refused to put his face into the water, and so never really learned the basics.

Back in 2004, we took a family vacation to Florida along with my parents, my sister, and her two boys. Sam was intrigued by the swim masks his cousins had with them. Only a day into the vacation, he put one on and from that moment, became "Diver Dan" going to the bottom of the shallow end to pick up dive sticks. We were all on the side of the pool applauding him loudly, and he was so proud of himself! We took the mask and the dive rings with us to Hilton Head, but alas, he decided on the very first day that he did not want to take off his glasses and so never got his head wet. But he still had a ball with the noodles and this purple bucket fishing out the pine straw that would occasionally fall from the sky.

Sandhill Crane... oops... Great Blue Heron* Breakfast

One morning as I was gone walking, husband spied this very cool sight off the back deck of the house in Sea Pines. A Sandhill Crane had flown in, found a small snake, and was trying to make it breakfast! As you can see, the snake was putting up a valiant fight and had wrapped itself around the crane's beak.

But, our mighty friend was not to be bested, and soon the snake stopped moving and became a tasty treat. Just after he snapped this shot, the bird easily gulped the snake down, and then flew off to search out potential hunting places for lunch I suppose.

Funny thing about my very tech oriented husband... he never knew he'd become a card carrying member of the Biddle Birdwatchers (any Jane Hathaway fans out there?) when he married me. :c) I was so proud that he even noticed this rare vision, let alone thought to run for the camera and shoot away! He was beaming as he shared it with me upon my return to the house. One more reason why I love him so very much. He just knew that seeing pictures of a bird devouring a snake would bring me joy. Poor man.

* I stand very corrected! Thanks to a more knowledgeable person (thanks Rob), this cool visitor was correctly identified as a Great Blue Heron and not a Sandhill Crane.

First day friend

Well, we made it back safe and sound yesterday afternoon. I was sad to leave, but looking forward to getting back home as well. Our last night in Hilton Head it stormed to beat the band around 2AM, so I ended up with Sam to my left in the bed with us, which meant I was sandwiched in-between both my guys for the duration of the night, and interestingly they both snored so you can imagine how much sleep I got until we woke up at 6AM. We had no rain the entire week except for this brief storm, and the humidity stayed low the entire time as well, so I don't think we could have ordered a more perfect weather week.

We met this little guy on our first day there out by the pool. I thought he was just any old green lizard, until he stopped and puffed out his throat showing this very cool red membrane. On google exploration, I found that he is a Green Anole Lizard and was puffing out his "dewlap" for me.


Later, we saw him change to a brown color as he crawled over the brown siding on the house and assumed he might be a chameleon, but apparently these talented little guys can do some color changing to suit their environment. Shouldn't we all be that lucky?

Redefining when...

Last night, we actually walked around and measured off the rooms in this house, adding them to the drawing I did of the layout we've come to love this week. We had a long conversation about if not starting plans for a dream home soon, then when? I'd been saying that I want to wait until Sam is out of school, or until we know more about what the future will bring, but how many times have we put things off only to find that ten years later we are still in the same place? Or, events happen which make it "not a good time."

I have loved every minute of living in this space full of light for the past week. It has called to me in so many ways and given me new perspective on what kind of space I'd like to call home. We've been in our current home for going on eight years, and when we moved there, it was more than we could have ever imagined, yet, we've outgrown it in many ways. I detest the upstairs I'd never had and thought I'd love when we moved in. Sam's room is upstairs and at times, it sounds as if he's coming through the ceiling as he jumps in excitement while watching a DVD. The sound filters down the foyer so that I can clearly hear Thomas the Tank Engine while I am sitting in my glider rocker watching TV. I wish I could cash in on the number of times I've heard myself yelling to him to "please turn that down!" We have a dining room we've never used... totally wasted space. And, truly, there is just no place to go curl up and read quietly away from all the TV's and noise.

I will be very sad to leave this space today, and will miss my morning walks through the woods, but the bigger gift in this week has been a call to stop being afraid to move forward, and to seriously consider defining "when."

Returning to reality tomorrow

Last night, husband remembered that he had his very small digital camera in his computer bag which he uses for work, and which has a photo card which fits into the side of this laptop. I was thrilled to be able to head to the trail and take a photo to post, but the batteries were dead. A quick "borrow" of AA's from the TV remote, and off I went to the beginning of the trail behind the house. The quality and lighting is not great, but you can get the gist of why I have been in love with my morning walks.

At home, I generally walk four days a week on the treadmill, usually to the snappy songs of John Mellencamp. It's sometimes hard to get to that hour mark, but I always feel so much better when I am done. Here, in this pristine setting, I have walked an easy hour each and every morning, and I am feeling very sad that today will be my last walk on the path. I have breathed deeply, prayed quietly, smiled to myself, and contemplated life on these early morning outings. They have been sacred time for me. A time to renew my spirit and reflect on how easy it is to get caught up in the routines of life. A time to be thankful for all the blessings of family, friends, and my faith. This vacation has been everything I had hoped it would be, and so much more.

Echoes of autism

All this week, ABC's World News Tonight has been doing segments on issues related to autism called Echoes of Autism. Last night, the segment dealt with the siblings of kids with autism. They interviewed an author who has written about her life being the sibling of a brother with autism. She related that although she knew he simply required more of her parent's attention, it was still so very painful, and she feels she missed out in many ways.

We were contemplating a second child when Sam was diagnosed, and suddenly those plans came to a screeching halt. We went through grieving the loss of that "perfect child" and after a year of feeling lost, we pulled him out of a special education preschool to do a home based behavioral intervention program. Every ounce of my attention and energy went into trying to fix him and rid him of this malady. I refused to think that he would not be one of those who became indistinguishable from his peers if I only worked hard enough to help him, and so another child was the last thing on my mind. When people would ask me if we were going to have more children, I told them that I had decided that if I was to have another child, then the urge would come upon me so strongly that I'd know it was time. That urge never came. I knew that our odds of having another affected child were higher, and further, that there was no way we could do for Sam what we needed to do if we had another child.

Over the years, I've often wondered about our decision. In many ways, I wonder if having a sibling would have forced Sam to adjust more, to bend more, and to be exposed to a so-called more normal childhood, by virtue of having a brother or sister who wanted all those normal activities. I think about the fact that I'll never be a grandmother and what that will mean later in my life. But, conversely, I also think about the fact that assuming our second child had been a neurotypical kid, what kind of responsibility would that have thrust upon them? The feeling of being the one who would have to look after a disabled sibling once mom and dad are gone would be overwhelming. And, as I said, if we'd had another child, there is no way we'd have been able to do all we've done to help Sam be the best he can be, even if I didn't purge him of the autism (written tongue-in-cheek). ;c)

There are no easy decisions when dealing with these issues, but I certainly applaud ABC for doing this series and opening the discussion.