Money has this funny way of determining our value. A person who has a high paying job is worth more than someone who has a low paying job. And when I say "worth" I don't mean monetarily speaking- I mean how they are valued in community. Some jobs obviously require more intellectual skill, time commitment to acquiring that skill- but that shouldn't change our value.
David is a doctor and I often avoid telling people his position at DMC because it changes how they see our family. Whether the change is positive or negative- I'd prefer that my husband's occupation not change the perceptions of others- particularly our value in community.
Last Sunday a man collapsed outside the sanctuary where he often is standing greeting everyone with a huge smile and handing out the weekly bulletin. There was a loud crash and then a yell from a member naming the person who had fallen. David quickly rushed to the back of the room with a few other medical professionals to care for the man. During the 15 minutes it took the ambulance to arrive one of the pastors prayed fervently for the care and life of this man, the other pastor lovingly finished his sermon- meanwhile those with keys prepared a way for the man to eventually be led out right through the front of the church (as that is the location of the ramp), the medical team took what care they could of him- and people I am sure were praying and caring for their beloved friend. When the EMS team arrived and took him out there were a lot of tears, prayers, and love- it was this beautiful picture of a community that values beyond arbitrary values. The man I speak of has a developmental disability- he's older- he is probably devalued in the broader community- but in his community- in his church he has value. All the people that came together to care for the larger church as they sat silently wondering what would happen next- needed to do their tasks- their jobs. At one point someone said, "He's in good hands- there's like four doctors out there." It struck me a little- yes, I am so so so comforted that my husband is a doctor and can help at times like this.... but I don't ever want his value to be elevated because of it.
David and I have been living on very little income our entire marriage. There were years when we didn't go out to eat, get a hair cut, buy new clothes, etc... As income started coming in at the beginning of residency we set a budget- part of the budget was a separate debit card for me to make sure I didn't overspend buying diapers and then all the "oh but it was so cutes" at Target. I still have access to the other accounts, but I budgeting is a weakness so this was a good way to be responsible- though I still snuck some unnecessary things on the other accounts... I don't earn an income so by definition many would say I don't work. "What do you do?" I am always asked. Usually I say, "Nothing- I stay home with our 3 kids." Though I should say-- I am a chef, a laundry mat service, a counselor, a pastor, a house cleaner.... I just don't get paid in money. My payment is immeasurable smiles, cuddles, kisses, and laughs. On a serious note though- there are days it feels like David's money and I am lucky enough to spend it- I don't even have to do anything for it! This adds a dysfunction to our relationship because then he's either my parent saying yes or no to spending or simply my ATM- but not my partner in finances. So in a starter conversation we began discussing what it would look like to see the money as our money to save, spend, and give away. It's not just the money and how it is spent or saved, but it's how he sees me as partly earning the money in the sense that I take care of things on the home end so he can go be a doctor and earn the money we need to live- but neither of us is more valued than the other... It comes down to value- our values in this family are equal as husband and wife- not what we bring to the table. the end.
Today was Bentley's last day of speech therapy at the Wayne State University speech clinic. He has been going for over 3 years. Every semester he has worked with a different student. To be honest, they all blend together- I can't remember a single individual student- except for Nan. I'll never forget Nan. This semester Bentley began working with her- she's short, extremely energetic, fun, thoughtful, kind, encouraging, and motivating. She and Bentley bonded. You may remember I wrote my lament about Bentley not being understood/valued/loved last fall. I wrote that it wasn't about that particular speech therapist- because it wasn't- this one however, is. Nan is a student working to become a speech therapist. She'll probably make OK money- but she will work hard for it. But it's not about the money- it's about the value. Nan opened my son up this semester to all new possibilities. He flew threw his goals. He listened to her, laughed with her, played with her- enjoyed her. All semester long people have commented on Bentley's speech progression- it's been so encouraging! So today when it was time to say good- bye- Nan handed off Bentley- quickly walked away, and turned back at least 4 times as she escorted her next client- almost as if to soak in the fullness of Bentley to stamp him in her mind and in her heart and then turned the corner. Bentley of course is unaware of this eternal good bye and laughing and pulling my arm- and I'm left standing there to choose- choose to have a tearful breakdown or suck it all in and walk out. I chose the latter.
As I sit here and think about our work- what we do- I am struck by the beauty of the woven tapestry. Whether you're the teacher or the student, the high paid professional, the out of job one, the therapist or the client... your work matters. Your value to the community has nothing to do with your pay check, and everything to do with your gifts. The money comes in and goes out, but it's the impact you make on others that lasts. So make your impact and forget about the fleeting money because this world is in desperate need of more valuing of people and less valuing of finances and things.
4.29.2015
you need only be still
As I reflect back on this year's study of the life of Moses I see again and again the parallels between my journey and that of the Israelites.
I, too, was once a slave bound by sin. I was living my life in the darkness of the enemy. Slaving away to his scheming plans of building his kingdom here is just like the Israelites slaving away to build Pharaoh's kingdom. They had no freedom, no opportunities, no will to choose.... until Moses. Although my opportunity to follow Christ was made way centuries before I was born- I had to choose and whether I will stay in the darkness of slavery or faithfully and loyally walk into the Promised land.
When I first became a Christian I was unaware of all the things Scripture had to say... I found myself wanting to drink in all I could. I would read and read the Bible- absorbing every truth and every thought and every promise. I see this happening in the lives of the Israelites- anxious to hear from Moses all that God had told him.... wanting so desperately to know God. Yet, still prone to their sin of turning away they made idols in waiting to hear... How often do I turn to yet another idol while waiting to hear what God has to say to me? "Lord, you're too slow! I need my answers. Where are you Lord?" I demand. I ask questions. And when I feel abandoned I, like the Israelites, turn away. Even when scriptures affirms me over and over again like in Deuteronomy 31:8 "The LORD himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged." However, I do get afraid and I do get discouraged and more and more so as I move away from His promises and into my brokenness.
But the Lord is constant and he advises as again and again- as in Joel 2:12 "Even now," declares the LORD, "return to me with all your heart, with fasting and weeping and mourning." And so I return. Broken for all of my faults- my sins- my pains- longing to be built again.
I, too, was once a slave bound by sin. I was living my life in the darkness of the enemy. Slaving away to his scheming plans of building his kingdom here is just like the Israelites slaving away to build Pharaoh's kingdom. They had no freedom, no opportunities, no will to choose.... until Moses. Although my opportunity to follow Christ was made way centuries before I was born- I had to choose and whether I will stay in the darkness of slavery or faithfully and loyally walk into the Promised land.
When I first became a Christian I was unaware of all the things Scripture had to say... I found myself wanting to drink in all I could. I would read and read the Bible- absorbing every truth and every thought and every promise. I see this happening in the lives of the Israelites- anxious to hear from Moses all that God had told him.... wanting so desperately to know God. Yet, still prone to their sin of turning away they made idols in waiting to hear... How often do I turn to yet another idol while waiting to hear what God has to say to me? "Lord, you're too slow! I need my answers. Where are you Lord?" I demand. I ask questions. And when I feel abandoned I, like the Israelites, turn away. Even when scriptures affirms me over and over again like in Deuteronomy 31:8 "The LORD himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged." However, I do get afraid and I do get discouraged and more and more so as I move away from His promises and into my brokenness.
But the Lord is constant and he advises as again and again- as in Joel 2:12 "Even now," declares the LORD, "return to me with all your heart, with fasting and weeping and mourning." And so I return. Broken for all of my faults- my sins- my pains- longing to be built again.
God's commandments are a reminder to the Israelites their inability to achieve holy perfection. His word reminds us the same. Yet unlike the Israelites who must return again and again to the knee deep blood of the shed animals for their sins we have our sweet Jesus Christ who has shed his blood once and for all. The freedom to know that faith in Him is enough to be clean is only fully understood after studying the original sacrifices for sin.
I am often baffled by the ways of God- confused by knowing God is all forgiving and yet strikes Aaron's sons dead at their disobedience and by those associated with Korah in Numbers 16 when the earth swallowed them up, and grieved by Moses' response to disobey God when he struck the rock rather than speak to it- thus leaving him to never enter the Promised land.
I am awed by God's sovereign hand protecting the Israelites in His holy wars as he moved them through to the land that was promised. I am comforted by Exodus 14:14 "The LORD will fight for you; you need only to be still."
When asked if I agreed with God for not allowing Moses to enter the Promised Land I had to answer that I didn't. My human mind struggles to know the ways of the Lord- desiring for His forgiveness over and over again rather than acknowledge His wrath and His holiness. Again I was reminded that God didn't deny Moses entrance into the heavens, but only into the earthly land... His disobedience was not enough to separate Him from God forever- or even at all- but the consequence was not leading the Israelites into the promised land... Moses was given the opportunity to train Joshua knowing His time to lead on earth was over which was itself a reminder he hadn't been cut off.
As I think about the promised land concerning the Israelites and parallel that land to the Promised land of Christ I see how my faulty thinking has it's own set of consequences- though not enough to separate me from the love and forgiveness of Christ.
God has saved me from my slavery, and He has written His laws on my heart, and I am trying so hard to not wander aimlessly through this world- I don't want to pass 40 years in the desert of loss- I want to move forward with a Kingdom mind and heart to do all that God has for me and my family. Yet again and again I wander away from Truth- from Life- from Holiness- and into my own will centered idolatries that do nothing but harm. And yet again- God patiently and lovingly beckons me back under His gracious arms and into His loving heart.
Though the Lord has not taken me to a mountain to look out over His heavenly kingdom as Moses was able to see at the end of His life- He does give me glimpses into the Kingdom of God. I look at my six year old son with Down syndrome who the world has decided is not compatible with life and know that He was knit in my womb and brings a mystery of the kingdom to those who know and love him- I see the hands of trained medical workers give up large salaries and a life near family in opportunities to train hundreds of medical workers in east Africa where genocides once reigned and countries were left with literally no speciality doctors and few general doctors- I see those longing to bring justice here in this country to those who have been denied for centuries. I see the greatness in small offerings and the beauty in caring for the weak... and all those moments are shining light into the Kingdom of Christ that sets the world on its head declaring His rule and His reign are here and now and we get to walk into that freedom.
Though I stumble and wander-I return. I return to my first Love- to my Abba who I am reminded through the life of Moses that I am loved, comforted, protected, and guided. Though I want to fight my battles using my own strength to bring forth what often are my own desires I am humbly reminded again and again of those words in Exodus- which I think brings me back to the center of this study. The reminder that my stillness is the results of my faith in knowing that God Almighty has me in the palm of His hand- that though I walk through life and trudge through pain and experience persecution I am equally safe, protected, and guided and I will hold these words close to my heart forever:
"The LORD will fight for you; you need only to be still."
"The LORD will fight for you; you need only to be still."
4.15.2015
as the journey unfolds
Life is a great mystery. As a young child I didn't have the capacity to imagine what it would be like to continue this journey called life-the great joys, the deep heart breaks- the mass beauty-- it was all unfathomable. I'd become a teacher and have some kids and live in a house and have neighbors- but oh no- life is so so much more intricate- detailed- intense than that.
There are several facets of life that are in transition right now, but the one I long to share with you about is in regards to career.
About 9 years ago we took in a sweet child from the foster care system. She was 4.5 years when she came to live with us. She was a therapeutic foster care placement which meant she had higher needs. She was basically non verbal, not potty trained, very thin- labeled failure to thrive. She had experienced intense abuse her whole life. She was a challenge. But she also changed us. She had this adorable laugh and this huge smile and a love to play. She'd run around the yard with our 2 big dogs laughing and playing. She didn't make friends well- she usually tried to stab them with a fork or bite them with her mouth- but she was working on that. She was in a special needs school which I promptly removed her from and placed her with her peers- inclusion wasn't on my radar- except that it was already planted in my soul. At the end of our year with her David was accepted in medical school at Wayne State in Detroit so we bought a condo in Ann Arbor where she'd be in a good school district and worked on adopting her- but the case worker changed her mind- mostly because it would be too much work to coordinate with another state- it was a huge heartbreak- one that took years to heal from.
During David's first year of medical school there was the genetics panel. He came home telling me about all these adorable kids with Down syndrome and how they were so cute- he just fell in love with them. I was pregnant with Bentley- we didn't know he had Down syndrome... I said, "We should adopt one!" He laughed and said, "Well you can't-- there's a waiting list..."
Enter Bentley. I write about this kid all the time- cause he is changing us all the time. Life is all about change. Kids change you- it's true- but a kid with a developmental disability bring his own life changing paths. He has opened my eyes to the injustices, the segregation, and the struggles families with kids with disabilities face.
David choose to do his residency in the internal medicine and pediatric program at Detroit Medical Center. He wanted to be challenged with complex medical cases- be able to work in or out patient, and be able to treat the whole family. He has had the most amazing experience in residency. The hours are terribly long, but he loves what he does.
In October David signed a contract to work with a local Tucson clinic called El Rio. El Rio is a federally qualified health center- so that basically means this: federally qualified health centers (FQHCs) include all organizations receiving grants under Section 330 of the Public Health Service Act (PHS). FQHCs qualify for enhanced reimbursement from Medicare and Medicaid, as well as other benefits. FQHCs must serve an underserved area or population, offer a sliding fee scale, provide comprehensive services, have an ongoing quality assurance program, and have a governing board of directors. Certain tribal organizations and FQHC Look-Alikes (an organization that meets PHS Section 330 eligibility requirements, but does not receive grant funding) also may receive special Medicare and Medicaid reimbursement.
He was so excited to work in this environment.
A couple weeks ago he received an email from a woman in Tucson who works for a place called Childrens Clinics at Tucson Medical Center (click to see you link :). The facility is looking for a med/peds doc who can take care of kids with medically complex cases and special needs. They currently have a few part time pediatricians, and are looking to hire a physician trained as an internist, but also with pediatrics to fully care for these kids and their families. The challenge with kids as they age out of pediatrics is that their medical care has proven to go down and things that were once controlled are not now. Also physicians who deal with adults don't always do well serving the people with disabilities population because they're not used to dealing with parents and caregivers in addition to patients. I probably will write more on this and use research to explain more thoroughly, but you get the idea.
So David went through a few interviews and visited the facility and received a contract to sign. :) But he had one major obstacle- he had already signed with El Rio- who works closely with Childrens Clinics.... well he called yesterday and with grace and a blessing they released him from his contract and hope to collaborate in the future.
So now David is going to be working less than 2 miles from the house we just bought. He's going to be caring for people with disabilities. He's walking the journey that makes total sense for our family.
A physician who cares for families caring for children with disabilities while simultaneously raising a son with a disability makes total sense. It's exactly what our family needs to be doing and it's exactly what he needs to be doing.
God is opening up doors that I didn't even know existed. I never imagined being part of the community of special needs. Ever. But I am fully embracing this path and I am so excited to see the journey unfold.
There are several facets of life that are in transition right now, but the one I long to share with you about is in regards to career.
About 9 years ago we took in a sweet child from the foster care system. She was 4.5 years when she came to live with us. She was a therapeutic foster care placement which meant she had higher needs. She was basically non verbal, not potty trained, very thin- labeled failure to thrive. She had experienced intense abuse her whole life. She was a challenge. But she also changed us. She had this adorable laugh and this huge smile and a love to play. She'd run around the yard with our 2 big dogs laughing and playing. She didn't make friends well- she usually tried to stab them with a fork or bite them with her mouth- but she was working on that. She was in a special needs school which I promptly removed her from and placed her with her peers- inclusion wasn't on my radar- except that it was already planted in my soul. At the end of our year with her David was accepted in medical school at Wayne State in Detroit so we bought a condo in Ann Arbor where she'd be in a good school district and worked on adopting her- but the case worker changed her mind- mostly because it would be too much work to coordinate with another state- it was a huge heartbreak- one that took years to heal from.
During David's first year of medical school there was the genetics panel. He came home telling me about all these adorable kids with Down syndrome and how they were so cute- he just fell in love with them. I was pregnant with Bentley- we didn't know he had Down syndrome... I said, "We should adopt one!" He laughed and said, "Well you can't-- there's a waiting list..."
Enter Bentley. I write about this kid all the time- cause he is changing us all the time. Life is all about change. Kids change you- it's true- but a kid with a developmental disability bring his own life changing paths. He has opened my eyes to the injustices, the segregation, and the struggles families with kids with disabilities face.
David choose to do his residency in the internal medicine and pediatric program at Detroit Medical Center. He wanted to be challenged with complex medical cases- be able to work in or out patient, and be able to treat the whole family. He has had the most amazing experience in residency. The hours are terribly long, but he loves what he does.
In October David signed a contract to work with a local Tucson clinic called El Rio. El Rio is a federally qualified health center- so that basically means this: federally qualified health centers (FQHCs) include all organizations receiving grants under Section 330 of the Public Health Service Act (PHS). FQHCs qualify for enhanced reimbursement from Medicare and Medicaid, as well as other benefits. FQHCs must serve an underserved area or population, offer a sliding fee scale, provide comprehensive services, have an ongoing quality assurance program, and have a governing board of directors. Certain tribal organizations and FQHC Look-Alikes (an organization that meets PHS Section 330 eligibility requirements, but does not receive grant funding) also may receive special Medicare and Medicaid reimbursement.
He was so excited to work in this environment.
A couple weeks ago he received an email from a woman in Tucson who works for a place called Childrens Clinics at Tucson Medical Center (click to see you link :). The facility is looking for a med/peds doc who can take care of kids with medically complex cases and special needs. They currently have a few part time pediatricians, and are looking to hire a physician trained as an internist, but also with pediatrics to fully care for these kids and their families. The challenge with kids as they age out of pediatrics is that their medical care has proven to go down and things that were once controlled are not now. Also physicians who deal with adults don't always do well serving the people with disabilities population because they're not used to dealing with parents and caregivers in addition to patients. I probably will write more on this and use research to explain more thoroughly, but you get the idea.
So David went through a few interviews and visited the facility and received a contract to sign. :) But he had one major obstacle- he had already signed with El Rio- who works closely with Childrens Clinics.... well he called yesterday and with grace and a blessing they released him from his contract and hope to collaborate in the future.
So now David is going to be working less than 2 miles from the house we just bought. He's going to be caring for people with disabilities. He's walking the journey that makes total sense for our family.
A physician who cares for families caring for children with disabilities while simultaneously raising a son with a disability makes total sense. It's exactly what our family needs to be doing and it's exactly what he needs to be doing.
God is opening up doors that I didn't even know existed. I never imagined being part of the community of special needs. Ever. But I am fully embracing this path and I am so excited to see the journey unfold.
3.12.2015
Thanks forgotten
I've done a terrible job at writing my thanks - but I'm ready to pick up again.
First this: (could include the things I didn't say!!)
I have no idea what number I'm on- so...
30.
A lovely breakfast day with Lily and David.
31. 
31. A beautiful walk to the river
32. I'm getting closer to being done packing!!!!
3.04.2015
2.20.2015
the kid is alright
(I originally wrote this post a couple weeks ago and it has been sitting in my drafts- I recently read the article about the local Michigan doctor choosing not to provide care for an infant born to lesbian parents. Her choice is exactly why I originally wrote the post. I won't sit quietly and watch this happen. I am also so thankful that my husband would never refuse a patient based on their family's personal life choices. The challenge for me is that there are countless patients who belong to families who are far from perfect- who make personal decisions that she is unaware of and yet she still provides care to those children... When you draw a line in the sand about a certain conviction while still providing care to a whole other subgroup of imperfect people your stance feels much more like the pharisees and much less like Jesus. My advice- though no one is asking- if you're providing a public health service- treat people because they're people in need of healthcare... not because you agree with their way of living...)
my story
I was born in September of 1982. My father was a pastor and my mother stayed home with me. My parents didn't argue- we did family things. It was bliss. I was loved.
In 1991 my parents brought me into the living room to share with me that they would be getting a divorce. Tears ran down my little cheeks as I asked, "But why?"
The divorce was painful, as divorces are. I stayed with my dad and my mom lived across the country. I missed her.
In 1993 I noticed my mom had a wedding ring on her finger- my little 11 year old mind was excited about dresses and weddings and all things princess. My mom announced that she was getting married- to a woman. My first reaction- great! I hadn't heard of words like lesbian or gay or heterosexual. That summer my best friend had planned to make the trip across the country to stay with me. When she found out that my mom was a lesbian she decided not to come. I will never forget that feeling: the rejection, the sadness, the confusion. And that was the day I became ashamed of my mother.
My mom is my best friend. I love her beyond words. She is my encourager, my supporter, the one to whom I confide- she is exactly what I would hope in a mother. The early years following the divorce were painful because I missed her so dearly.
If you can remember the 90's then you can remember the fear of AIDS, the rejection of homosexuals, and the secrets that families had to keep. My mom was on the front lines of those coming out to their families.
My mother took me to volunteer in St. Paul, MN to the world AIDS quilt exhibit. I remember watching her cry after her dear friend passed from AIDS. I didn't understand what it all meant- but I knew she was passionate about it- and all her friends were so good to me.
Outside of the gay and lesbian community I swung back into shame. Friends dropped words like faggot and gay and my heart would sink. I remember when my mom gave me a check to pay for summer camp I tried to rip off the other name so my camp leader wouldn't know there were two women on my mom's checking account. After the rejection of my friend I decided I wouldn't tell anyone about my mom- and since she lived across the country it wasn't too hard. However, when I would spend all summer with her my secret required a lot more effort.
It wasn't until the end of 8th grade that I finally decided to tell some friends- and their reactions weren't so painful. Then in high school I moved in with my mom and so if you were my friend- you knew. Some of my friends chose not to stay the night or maybe some kids chose not to be my friend- those things hurt, but fortunately I had many other friends who accepted my family into their homes.
The reason I decided to write this little post is to draw attention to something that some might not think about. My mom is a lesbian- it is who she is- and you may have differing opinions politically or theologically- but she is a person who deserves respect. So when you are talking with your friends or posting articles or arguing about the rights of gays and lesbians- remember that people you are talking about are mothers, fathers, aunts, uncles, daughters, and sons- and even grandmothers! And I love my mother so deeply- and so when you say hurtful things about lesbians it cuts into the depth of my heart. When you reject gay and lesbian couples - you're rejecting their children as well. There are numerous occasions where my mother's choice was reject and the consequence was that I was rejected as well. I can't change the minds of those who said hurtful things when I was a child- but I wish I could teach them to speak respectfully. Although sometimes even respectful speaking followed by rejection - like in the case of the local physician- is a reminder of how far we have to go...
The other reason I wanted to write this blog post is to release the shame that I have carried for so many years. My mother is a lesbian and her name is Adonica and her partner is Kathryn. And I love them. They are good to one another- kind to their friends- respectful of the earth- and they love me, David, and the kids well. And if you live in Portland, you should get to know them- it would be worth the effort. :)
Anyway- I am the kid- one of the products of the 90's- who quietly walked through the storm- and this kid is alright.
my story
I was born in September of 1982. My father was a pastor and my mother stayed home with me. My parents didn't argue- we did family things. It was bliss. I was loved.
In 1991 my parents brought me into the living room to share with me that they would be getting a divorce. Tears ran down my little cheeks as I asked, "But why?"
The divorce was painful, as divorces are. I stayed with my dad and my mom lived across the country. I missed her.
In 1993 I noticed my mom had a wedding ring on her finger- my little 11 year old mind was excited about dresses and weddings and all things princess. My mom announced that she was getting married- to a woman. My first reaction- great! I hadn't heard of words like lesbian or gay or heterosexual. That summer my best friend had planned to make the trip across the country to stay with me. When she found out that my mom was a lesbian she decided not to come. I will never forget that feeling: the rejection, the sadness, the confusion. And that was the day I became ashamed of my mother.
My mom is my best friend. I love her beyond words. She is my encourager, my supporter, the one to whom I confide- she is exactly what I would hope in a mother. The early years following the divorce were painful because I missed her so dearly.
If you can remember the 90's then you can remember the fear of AIDS, the rejection of homosexuals, and the secrets that families had to keep. My mom was on the front lines of those coming out to their families.
My mother took me to volunteer in St. Paul, MN to the world AIDS quilt exhibit. I remember watching her cry after her dear friend passed from AIDS. I didn't understand what it all meant- but I knew she was passionate about it- and all her friends were so good to me.
Outside of the gay and lesbian community I swung back into shame. Friends dropped words like faggot and gay and my heart would sink. I remember when my mom gave me a check to pay for summer camp I tried to rip off the other name so my camp leader wouldn't know there were two women on my mom's checking account. After the rejection of my friend I decided I wouldn't tell anyone about my mom- and since she lived across the country it wasn't too hard. However, when I would spend all summer with her my secret required a lot more effort.
It wasn't until the end of 8th grade that I finally decided to tell some friends- and their reactions weren't so painful. Then in high school I moved in with my mom and so if you were my friend- you knew. Some of my friends chose not to stay the night or maybe some kids chose not to be my friend- those things hurt, but fortunately I had many other friends who accepted my family into their homes.
The reason I decided to write this little post is to draw attention to something that some might not think about. My mom is a lesbian- it is who she is- and you may have differing opinions politically or theologically- but she is a person who deserves respect. So when you are talking with your friends or posting articles or arguing about the rights of gays and lesbians- remember that people you are talking about are mothers, fathers, aunts, uncles, daughters, and sons- and even grandmothers! And I love my mother so deeply- and so when you say hurtful things about lesbians it cuts into the depth of my heart. When you reject gay and lesbian couples - you're rejecting their children as well. There are numerous occasions where my mother's choice was reject and the consequence was that I was rejected as well. I can't change the minds of those who said hurtful things when I was a child- but I wish I could teach them to speak respectfully. Although sometimes even respectful speaking followed by rejection - like in the case of the local physician- is a reminder of how far we have to go...
The other reason I wanted to write this blog post is to release the shame that I have carried for so many years. My mother is a lesbian and her name is Adonica and her partner is Kathryn. And I love them. They are good to one another- kind to their friends- respectful of the earth- and they love me, David, and the kids well. And if you live in Portland, you should get to know them- it would be worth the effort. :)
Anyway- I am the kid- one of the products of the 90's- who quietly walked through the storm- and this kid is alright.
2.12.2015
spurring hearts of generosity
Part of living in a major city is that there are homeless and beggars everywhere. A common discussion is what to do when you're asked for money. In Detroit I am asked for money every time I fill my car up with gas, every time I enter the freeway at Lafayette and 375, and various other places. The free part of me wants to invite the beggar over for dinner, give him or her a ride, or buy the person some food. The reserved side of me says no- thinking the person might just buy alcohol.
I read something once that encouraged parents when approached by someone asking for money to invite the kids into the decision. I loved this idea because I have found children to be very generous. First of all, it isn't their money. There isn't a sense of ownership or work involved- it's just money. Secondly, I have found kids like to be helpful. They are curious about people in wheelchairs, curious about those who act differently, and wonder why someone would ask for money- and they want to help.
So today I stopped on Woodward to fill my car up with gas. Lily announced she had to pee, but I told her she had to wait until we got Bentley from school- about a 10 minute drive. I finished pumping the gas and went to drive away and she started crying that she really had to pee. So we pulled up front and I took her into the gas station. On our way out a man approached me in front of the kids- after warning them about the icy sidewalks- and asked me if I had any money. I usually say, "No I am sorry I don't carry cash." But I happen to have a quarter in my pocket so I handed it to him. I got the kids in the car and realized I had money in a drawer- my heart began to pound- the kind of pound that requires a response. The man was walking away- I thought I should chase him- but I hadn't entered the kids into the conversation yet. So I waited. He came back and began looking for cans in the trash. I said, "That man asked us for money and I found this money here in the car- should we give it to him?" Clayton's reply, "NO- I AM NOT DOING MY SEATBELT AGAIN." - I reminded him that he didn't have to move- I would share the money- I just wanted to know if he thought I should. Lily's immediate response was, "YES! WE SHOULD GIVE HIM THE MONEY. MOM, GIVE IT TO HIM!"
So I got the money in my hand and walked over to the man in front of my van and I said, "Sir, I found this money in my car." He thanked me- told me he's been sleeping on the streets for 10 years. I didn't know what to say. I just walked back to the car. I probably should've said that it was from my kids- but I didn't rehearse in my head- so the words just came out....
When I got back to the car I praised the kids for wanting to share the money.
"Mom, why does he need money?"
I led them through a series of questions- how do we get money? What does Daddy do? What does our money pay for? (food, clothes, apartment). What would happen if Daddy didn't have money? How would we get those things? Doesn't God ask us to share with those who don't have anything? Do you know he sleeps on the street every night when you're in your bed? Don't you think we have all the money we need to buy things? Shouldn't we share?
They both agreed we should give money to people who don't have it.
There are bigger theories and problems and things to talk about as they grow up. But since I have them in this sweet young stage I want them to learn kindness. If I can teach them to be generous and thoughtful now- I can only hope they'll learn to be generous as they grow.
For now, we will continue to give away toys regularly (they do this so well!), share our clothes, give money when we have it in our pockets, hand out halloween candy, and give of our time.
Most days I have no idea what I am doing in this parenting gig- but today I remember something I had read- and at the right time I was able to teach them....
look for ways this week to teach your kids about generosity- you'll really enjoy hearing their little hearts of love. :)
(photo of bird feeding off water was taken in Spain/2007 and photo of child taking cheerio from mom was taken The Village/2007).
2.08.2015
the invitation
Dear friends and loved ones,
One of the struggles I have with injustices is that I don't know how to do anything to help change them. Living in Detroit has forced me to see the many injustices in this country that I may not have otherwise seen. While David is able to tangibly try to help his patients as a doctor- listening, advocating, finding places for people to go, and offering medical services, etc... I often feel useless.
I want to help, but I just don't know how in a lot of ways. This feeling is exacerbated by the fact that I am a mom to 3 little children and I don't have a lot of time beyond what I am trying to do for them- especially the numerous therapies and appointments and focus that Bentley requires. So if you're feeling similar to this- you aren't alone.
A friend of ours who is an infectious disease physician recently wrote this on her Facebook, "I am now seeing my third mentally ill, homeless patient with frostbite getting an amputation this week. It makes me so sad how mentally ill are treated in our society- left out in the cold. I don't know what the solution is, but this is really just not right". Her bringing light to this issue is the beginning of caring about it enough to advocate for it. I read this and it reminded me that this is happening a lot. And like her, I don't know how to change it- other than donating to the local shelters and offering warm clothes... but if someone told me something else I could do- I'd consider that as well!
I want to invite you into the struggles that we face with Bentley. I know you're busy- so remember- this is an invitation- not a demand or an expectation. :)
In order to invite you into the world of having Bentley I must give you some tools to help you along the way. :)
First, get educated on Down syndrome. This website is a good start. Don't read anything that hasn't been published in the last 5 years- research is only getting better!
Second, get educated on inclusion. Find out what I am talking about when I say inclusion. You can watch these short videos. Also, this website is a great way to learn about inclusion: two. They offer conferences and seminars, etc...
Third, learn some things about advocating here: one.
Fourth, participate in your local Buddy Walk! We love the Buddy Walk in Ann Arbor- they raise enough money to offer extra special services like Bentley's horse therapy! We also went to the one in West Linn, Oregon and had a WONDERFUL time!!! So go- wear a shirt- and makes some friends!
Heck, I'll make you a Bentley button if you go!
Fifth, let's have a conversation! I recently read this quote in a book and it was so helpful because I know that people have a hard time talking to me about Bentley because they're afraid they're gonna say something wrong. Let me just say this- if you are for Bentley and you use a word I don't like- I'll tell you. So don't worry about screwing up- I am just thankful you're engaging!
Finally and probably the greatest thing you can do to PARTICIPATE. Ask the school you're looking at for your children where they have children with special needs. Are they in the classroom all day? some of the day ? not accepted? If you as a parent who doesn't have a child with a disability engages a school in this area- imagine what we can accomplish together! There are way more of you than me! Consider the school that doesn't accept children with disabilities. I am not saying I am gonna judge you for choosing this school- we all get to make our choices. I am just asking you to consider it. I think diversity in education is essential. I want my kids to be part of a multi ethnic, economically diverse school that includes kids with disabilities in the classroom. And I don't think all of this would've been a priority before I moved to Detroit or before I had Bentley- so I am just inviting you in on the journey. You could also write out a pro and con list for schools you're considering and keep inclusion on the PRO list and special education as separate on the CON.
I'll close with this sweet edited email from a friend and her family's experience in inclusion from a different perspective:
Oh I love the words in that book and how she described it, because I often feel that way too (as in, I don't want to say the wrong thing, or how should I phrase this, etc). I just want you to know that I know that we don't get to see each other a lot, but you need to know that you are lifted up in prayer, and that you and Bentley have forever changed our hearts in our home. At parent-teacher conferences, after we got to hear how brilliant and wonderful our daughter is (not saying that to brag, just repeating what the teacher said), the teacher asked us if we had any questions or concerns, and my husband said..."We are just so thankful that students like Chase and Joe (who have cognitive and physical disabilities) are in class with A. They have taught her so much this year." And Adrienne, this is so so so true. We started the year worrying about..."how in the world is this little brain going to be stretched academically, as she really is just extremely ahead of her peers," to now, dinner conversations revolve around "what signs did you learn so that you could speak with Chase today? How did you help Joe when he was having a hard time? Did you and Chase play on the slide together or the swing?" Book learning is so easy to teach. Friendship, compassion, faithfulness, bravery, standing up for the kid who's different...not so easy to teach, and because of her daily interaction with these little boys, she is getting the opportunity to learn these daily. Lastly, I was talking to somebody in the beginning of the year about A's friendship with Chase, as honestly, friendship with a handicapped boy is new for me! This person looked at me and goes "aren't you afraid that by being friends with him she won't have any friends and she'll be labeled the weird kid?" I just looked at said person and replied: "Our prayer is that A will always stand out as different (think Phillipians 4 where Paul talks about shining like stars in the universe)." To this day I am still stunned that somebody would think this way, let alone ask this question. But then I stop and think..."Wow, before Adrienne and Bentley, would that have been me? Would I have thought that way?" I do not know, but it could have been, and thankfully now, it most certainly is not. So thank you Adrienne and thank you Bentley. You have both made me more Christlike.
So thankful for this lovely perspective from such a great friend! She is learning the value of education goes far beyond academics!
Share your stories with me, I love them!
Much love,
A
2.07.2015
the process of discovery
Since we made the decision to move to Tucson in October I have made lists about what I am allowed to think about and when- this way I don't get overwhelmed trying to do it all at once. Although I am far from perfect this works pretty well for me. Last month's goal was to enroll the boys in a small elementary school that would provide the services Bentley needs and follow the model of inclusion aka mainstreaming, as well as, be a good fit for Clayton and Lily. The inclusion model is a federally funded law that calls for children to be in the least restrictive environment. I am not some hippie mom trying to cause ripples in the water- the water has already been rippled by the generation before me- it's just that this cause is slow moving. Education in this country is not a thriving system. There are constant political debates about it- lots of discussions about money- so if you enter a child that has a disability there can be some reluctance to changing the policies of education. Research shows that mainstreaming children with disabilities is best for all kids- kids without disabilities learn to communicate, develop empathy, learn to be helpful and compassionate and all sorts of other great things. Kids with disabilities are with their typically developing peers who help them learn life skills, educational skills, and learn to have social interactions. It's a win win. There are some school districts and charters in this country that are doing this very very well. I happen to have Bentley enrolled at one of the charter schools- The Grace and Lee Boggs School.
When I was 22 and about to graduate college and get married I didn't have a job. I had a degree in International Studies and Spanish which provides no future in any specific field. At the time Arizona had emergency certificates for people with degrees who would teach and go to school to receive their teaching certificates. I printed off a long list of Tucson charter schools and began calling them all the way down the list to find a job. No one wanted to hire me. I kept that list and I'd call back from time to time until I eventually got a job teaching. Thankfully in the meant time I worked at a medical office as a scheduler for 6 physicians.
When Bentley was born the early on people came out to our condo in Ann Arbor and made a plan with me for Bentley and I followed their plan until he was 3. In Detroit I was so frustrated with the public school system's approach to special education I pulled him. Eventually I called every preschool in my area and found one that would accept Bentley. This ended up being a wonderful preschool that Clayton attends now. He didn't have a special ed teacher or speech or ot, but he was with his peers, and it was good.
I've written a lot about the finding of the Boggs School. What a blessing that has been.
I met with a new friend and mentor for lunch yesterday and we had the most amazing conversation. I am so thankful for someone that fought so hard for her son and has well rippled the waters to provide opportunities not only for Micah, but for many children who would otherwise be separate. She is amazing.After my meeting with her- I went to Bentley's annual IEP meeting and walked in late to a room of 7 people all there to discuss my son. It took my breath away. At the Boggs School I am not afraid of IEP meetings because I know that they're on Bentley's side. They want to provide him with a rich inclusive education- sometimes even more inclusive than I'd require!
I find myself feeling like that hopeless 22 year old looking for a job. I knew I wasn't qualified, but I knew if I was given a chance I could learn to become a good teacher. I know that Bentley is not what you think is an ideal candidate for your school- but if you give him a chance to thrive in your school I think he'll become a great student!
I have called every charter, several affordable private, and a gander of public schools in Tucson who are all currently enrolling for the next school year- and guess how many want Clayton and how many want Bentley? "Well, I am not sure about your son with Down syndrome- you'll have to talk to the school psychologist/special ed teacher/principal/ and see. But we would love to have your kindergartner." No joke. I love my son Clayton- but I'll be damned to send him to a school without his brother. I do change my mind about these things- but in this moment- right now- I want them together.
Enrollment season is a season of excitement and anticipation and wonder- it's a time to dream about your child's teacher and friends and activities. But for a mom with a special need's child it is a reminder of how unwanted my child is. My famous quote in the Bentley video and radio interview was, "we wanted a school that wanted him." And I still believe this. I don't want to convince you that you want Bentley in your school. He will bless you- not curse you.
And so I say this- whether you are carrying a child with Down syndrome and you are new at this- or you're an educator- or a pastor- or run a camp or facilitate a play group- take in my child. If you're reluctant- that's ok- it'll pass. But don't be afraid of the unknown. Welcome in what the world has named the least of these- and allow this burden to prove his or her blessing upon you. I am so glad I did.
When I was 22 and about to graduate college and get married I didn't have a job. I had a degree in International Studies and Spanish which provides no future in any specific field. At the time Arizona had emergency certificates for people with degrees who would teach and go to school to receive their teaching certificates. I printed off a long list of Tucson charter schools and began calling them all the way down the list to find a job. No one wanted to hire me. I kept that list and I'd call back from time to time until I eventually got a job teaching. Thankfully in the meant time I worked at a medical office as a scheduler for 6 physicians.
When Bentley was born the early on people came out to our condo in Ann Arbor and made a plan with me for Bentley and I followed their plan until he was 3. In Detroit I was so frustrated with the public school system's approach to special education I pulled him. Eventually I called every preschool in my area and found one that would accept Bentley. This ended up being a wonderful preschool that Clayton attends now. He didn't have a special ed teacher or speech or ot, but he was with his peers, and it was good.
I've written a lot about the finding of the Boggs School. What a blessing that has been.
I met with a new friend and mentor for lunch yesterday and we had the most amazing conversation. I am so thankful for someone that fought so hard for her son and has well rippled the waters to provide opportunities not only for Micah, but for many children who would otherwise be separate. She is amazing.After my meeting with her- I went to Bentley's annual IEP meeting and walked in late to a room of 7 people all there to discuss my son. It took my breath away. At the Boggs School I am not afraid of IEP meetings because I know that they're on Bentley's side. They want to provide him with a rich inclusive education- sometimes even more inclusive than I'd require!
I find myself feeling like that hopeless 22 year old looking for a job. I knew I wasn't qualified, but I knew if I was given a chance I could learn to become a good teacher. I know that Bentley is not what you think is an ideal candidate for your school- but if you give him a chance to thrive in your school I think he'll become a great student!
I have called every charter, several affordable private, and a gander of public schools in Tucson who are all currently enrolling for the next school year- and guess how many want Clayton and how many want Bentley? "Well, I am not sure about your son with Down syndrome- you'll have to talk to the school psychologist/special ed teacher/principal/ and see. But we would love to have your kindergartner." No joke. I love my son Clayton- but I'll be damned to send him to a school without his brother. I do change my mind about these things- but in this moment- right now- I want them together.
Enrollment season is a season of excitement and anticipation and wonder- it's a time to dream about your child's teacher and friends and activities. But for a mom with a special need's child it is a reminder of how unwanted my child is. My famous quote in the Bentley video and radio interview was, "we wanted a school that wanted him." And I still believe this. I don't want to convince you that you want Bentley in your school. He will bless you- not curse you.
And so I say this- whether you are carrying a child with Down syndrome and you are new at this- or you're an educator- or a pastor- or run a camp or facilitate a play group- take in my child. If you're reluctant- that's ok- it'll pass. But don't be afraid of the unknown. Welcome in what the world has named the least of these- and allow this burden to prove his or her blessing upon you. I am so glad I did.
1.26.2015
Bean bags
1.14.2015
40. Thankful for the trip we had in Arizona - since I got behind I'll just post some pics 
Took the kids to the zoo! Just me and them/ I loved doing that.
41. Thankful for this little girl and her love to dance!
42. Thankful for hikes/walks at sabino canyon!
44. Thankful we made it home safely!
45. Thankful for beautiful sunsets in our apartment.
46. Thankful for early morning games with this kid. ;)
47. Thankful for my new found love of smoothies packed with spinach you can't even taste! 
1.13.2015
the unchosen spiritual journey
David snagged a book from his parent's house- and when we arrived in Detroit I snagged it and started reading it. Anyone who knows me well knows that I do one thing particularly well... and that thing is to cry. I cry. If you're crying and I am connected to your story- I'm gonna cry. However, I generally don't cry when I read books- I feel deeply inside, but that feeling doesn't manifest itself in tears... until I found said snagged book. If you believe in Christ or you're interested in the Christian life or you just like to read about spiritual books- and if you love my son, Bentley. Go get this book.
The Road to Daybreak: A Spiritual Journey by Henri Nouwen.
Henri Nouwen moved to a community in France called L'Arche on August 13, 1985 (23 years and 1 day before the birth of Bentley) to live with those who have mental disabilities (he uses the phrase mentally handicapped which I will quote in his words).- He left a teaching position at Harvard University to pursue this opportunity. Part of L'Arche communities offer those with severe disabilities full time aids who can wash, feed, and fully take care of someone else. This is called La Forestiere (in this particular community)- keep this in mind during my end quote.
"It was important for me to be reminded again of this gift of the handicapped. They see through a facade of smiles and friendly words and sense the resentful heart before we ourselves notice it. Often they are capable of unmasking our impatience, irritation, jealousy, and lack of interest and making us honest with ourselves. For them, what really counts is a true relationship, a real friendship, a faithful presence. Many mentally handicapped people experience themselves as a disappointment to their parents, a burden for their families, a nuisance to their friends. To believe that anyone really cares and really loves them is difficult. Their heart registers with extreme sensitivity what is real care and what is false, what is true affection and what is just empty words. Thus, they often reveal to us our own hypocrisies and invite us always to greater sincerity and purer love.
My limited experience with handicapped people has made me see the truth of Jean's observation. Being at L'Arche means many things, but one of them is a call to a greater purity of heart. Indeed, Jesus speaks through the broken hearts of the handicapped, who are considered marginal and useless.
But God has chosen them to the poor through whom he makes his presence known. This is hard in a success and production oriented society" (19).
I have found that life lived is a spiritual journey. We are all trying to figure it out. When I traveled to Cuba in 2003 it was the poverty and oppression of that place that led me away from believe in Christ. No God would allow an entire country to suffer- and if God would allow that suffering- then I wasn't going to follow God.
Yet a pastor in Phoenix who was from Croatia and has seen genocide- watched the suffering of children in a place with no children welfare system- convinced me that God is the only way to enter the suffering. I don't have profound answers here- just a life story- and my story is that he changed my mind about God. And through perseverance and faith I found myself in a place where I can hate the oppression and be grieved about the poverty and pain and also believe in God.
And so it was the very thing that led me away from faith that God used to usher me back in. And sine then He has revealed over and over His faithfulness in the needs of the world, while also showing me that it will not be fully healed- not now- not until Christ.
The other week one of our pastor's in Tucson talked about the idea of not being totally 100% healed until Christ. So while we pray for healing for those who we love- for cities, for countries, for wars- those things will never be totally 100% healed- until Christ.
Enter Bentley. My son- my joy- my deep and innocent connection with the God who creates.
I often wonder if Bentley is broken. With my spiritual lenses I see that Bentley is changing me and he is changing you. He offers something to my life that my other two children just don't offer. Is this offering a spiritual offering that can be met in no other way? And if that is true- then is my dear son broken? Or is he whole? Is that cell- with three chromosomes- duplicated over his entire body a mistake? Or is it God ordained wholeness? Does it matter if his Down syndrome is a mistake or if it was willed before the light was set in it's place?
I don't know that it matters. What matters is that God is revealing the characters and qualities of Him through this world seen broken child. When everyone else is running in circles and trying to get ahead and finding the secrets of success- my son is quietly whispering- stop. Find success in the not success. Find happiness and peace and rest in the- not success. Find the wholeness in serving those who cannot feed or dress or take care of themselves. Serve the broken not the idols of our eyes.
Those who have met and served and cared for and loved a person with disabilities are changed. They have a sparkle and they smile wildly at my son. But there many who are afraid and haven't discovered the mystery of the God loved and created people with disabilities. If you are still unaware of this mystery- search for it- ask God that would reveal it to you. You won't be disappointed with the luminous beauty that will be revealed.
"If I can truly believe that God loved us so much that he became flesh among us, the people at La Forestiere invite me to see how deep that love is. Indeed, here I can meet Jesus, the same Jesus whom I adore in the prayer room- L' Oratoire. Here, too, God is hidden: here, too, is unceasing prayer of simple presence: here, too, is the utmost poverty.
The first commandment (Love God) is lived out in L' Oratoire (the prayer room),
The Road to Daybreak: A Spiritual Journey by Henri Nouwen.
Henri Nouwen moved to a community in France called L'Arche on August 13, 1985 (23 years and 1 day before the birth of Bentley) to live with those who have mental disabilities (he uses the phrase mentally handicapped which I will quote in his words).- He left a teaching position at Harvard University to pursue this opportunity. Part of L'Arche communities offer those with severe disabilities full time aids who can wash, feed, and fully take care of someone else. This is called La Forestiere (in this particular community)- keep this in mind during my end quote.
"It was important for me to be reminded again of this gift of the handicapped. They see through a facade of smiles and friendly words and sense the resentful heart before we ourselves notice it. Often they are capable of unmasking our impatience, irritation, jealousy, and lack of interest and making us honest with ourselves. For them, what really counts is a true relationship, a real friendship, a faithful presence. Many mentally handicapped people experience themselves as a disappointment to their parents, a burden for their families, a nuisance to their friends. To believe that anyone really cares and really loves them is difficult. Their heart registers with extreme sensitivity what is real care and what is false, what is true affection and what is just empty words. Thus, they often reveal to us our own hypocrisies and invite us always to greater sincerity and purer love.
My limited experience with handicapped people has made me see the truth of Jean's observation. Being at L'Arche means many things, but one of them is a call to a greater purity of heart. Indeed, Jesus speaks through the broken hearts of the handicapped, who are considered marginal and useless.
But God has chosen them to the poor through whom he makes his presence known. This is hard in a success and production oriented society" (19).
I have found that life lived is a spiritual journey. We are all trying to figure it out. When I traveled to Cuba in 2003 it was the poverty and oppression of that place that led me away from believe in Christ. No God would allow an entire country to suffer- and if God would allow that suffering- then I wasn't going to follow God.
Yet a pastor in Phoenix who was from Croatia and has seen genocide- watched the suffering of children in a place with no children welfare system- convinced me that God is the only way to enter the suffering. I don't have profound answers here- just a life story- and my story is that he changed my mind about God. And through perseverance and faith I found myself in a place where I can hate the oppression and be grieved about the poverty and pain and also believe in God.
And so it was the very thing that led me away from faith that God used to usher me back in. And sine then He has revealed over and over His faithfulness in the needs of the world, while also showing me that it will not be fully healed- not now- not until Christ.
The other week one of our pastor's in Tucson talked about the idea of not being totally 100% healed until Christ. So while we pray for healing for those who we love- for cities, for countries, for wars- those things will never be totally 100% healed- until Christ.
Enter Bentley. My son- my joy- my deep and innocent connection with the God who creates.
I often wonder if Bentley is broken. With my spiritual lenses I see that Bentley is changing me and he is changing you. He offers something to my life that my other two children just don't offer. Is this offering a spiritual offering that can be met in no other way? And if that is true- then is my dear son broken? Or is he whole? Is that cell- with three chromosomes- duplicated over his entire body a mistake? Or is it God ordained wholeness? Does it matter if his Down syndrome is a mistake or if it was willed before the light was set in it's place?
I don't know that it matters. What matters is that God is revealing the characters and qualities of Him through this world seen broken child. When everyone else is running in circles and trying to get ahead and finding the secrets of success- my son is quietly whispering- stop. Find success in the not success. Find happiness and peace and rest in the- not success. Find the wholeness in serving those who cannot feed or dress or take care of themselves. Serve the broken not the idols of our eyes.
Those who have met and served and cared for and loved a person with disabilities are changed. They have a sparkle and they smile wildly at my son. But there many who are afraid and haven't discovered the mystery of the God loved and created people with disabilities. If you are still unaware of this mystery- search for it- ask God that would reveal it to you. You won't be disappointed with the luminous beauty that will be revealed.
"If I can truly believe that God loved us so much that he became flesh among us, the people at La Forestiere invite me to see how deep that love is. Indeed, here I can meet Jesus, the same Jesus whom I adore in the prayer room- L' Oratoire. Here, too, God is hidden: here, too, is unceasing prayer of simple presence: here, too, is the utmost poverty.
The first commandment (Love God) is lived out in L' Oratoire (the prayer room),
the second (love others) in La Forestiere" (29).
1.07.2015
37. Thankful for a morning with my sisters (by marriage;) we had an amazing breakfast and then spent a couple hours house hunting. I of course fell in LOVE with a house. We shall see ;)
38. Thankful for the afternoon with one of my favorite people in the world- sue Cepin.
39. Thankful for David's giant family! 
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