Hard Questions and Obvious Answers

What you hear in church, doesn't have to stay in church. It's the antithesis of Vegas, that way.

Reid had a Keith Haring baby book. He worships like the blue figure.

After a week of sorting through an unpleasant reality I wish hadn't happened and wasn't part of our parenting experience, it was a solace to be in worship.  From our spot in the back row we can raise our hands without a whiff of self-consciousness. Reid was doing the pogo. The lady next me commented she wished she had enough freedom to join him. Attentive the entire service, so were we.

That Sunday I was seeking peace, hoping for direction, desperate to make meaning of the recent incident. Nothing as difficult had happened all school year. What did it mean? How would it change our immediate plans--for travel, summer camp, next fall?  Could we ensure it would not happen again? What is the right parental response of forgiveness and consequences, or is that love and logic? How do I stomach this complex emotional soup? Did this relapse negate the claims I'm making in my book?

Whoosh...it felt good to worship Someone who wasn't shifting with the tide.

In the midst came two thoughts.I love being engrossed in worship then hearing an idea drop into my consciousness.  It's then I am sure it's from Him.  I hadn't been noodling on it enough to think of it myself.

Do you trust Me to run interference?

Are you okay if my purpose for him is to refine someone else?

God's Word--both the printed Word and His rhema word--is a two-edged sword.  It cuts to the quick sharper and faster than the pain registers.  Embedded in the searing questions were the answers I'd been seeking.

I can post this now--albeit in vague references--because the situation has somewhat resolved.  The question is: will I remember it next time I'm thrust into an episode of mother angst?


For the word of God is alive and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart.  Hebrews 4:12

Hear my prayer, Lord;  listen to my cry for mercy. When I am in distress, I call to you, because you answer me.  Psalm 86:6-7

It takes more than bread to stay alive. It takes a steady stream of words from God’s mouth.  Matthew 4:4

Five Minute Friday: Brave

Taking Lisa Jo Baker's prompt today:

Brave is walking into high school the Monday after the Friday when you made a big mistake that hurt one someone standing in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Brave is walking beside that son able to smile.  Standing tall to face every possible ramification and reaction. Brave is asking for the spirit of forgiveness to go before. Believing the words of his baptism song are true.  Trusting even this can be redeemed for good. Allowing space for others. Banking on promises that I cannot see. Remembering faithfulness that's proven true. Letting God run interference.

Brave is getting out of bed, apologizing, choosing thoughts, binding shame, prioritizing faith, looking for redemption, waiting for perspective, knowing God is the refiner.

You’ll pray to him and he’ll listen;
    he’ll help you do what you’ve promised.
You’ll decide what you want and it will happen;
    your life will be bathed in light.
To those who feel low you’ll say, ‘Chin up! Be brave!’
    and God will save them.
Yes, even the guilty will escape,
    escape through God’s grace in your life.”  Job 22:28-30

Sister Stud: repost for National Sibling Day!

The courteous Tuff Shed foreman arrived to correct two issues outstanding from our recently installed 10 x 12 room. Jim had left me to supervise--but of course I was the one who had missed them during the original install. It's one thing to be home all day; it's quite another to verify accuracy and craftsmanship.Glancing at his work order, the words "sister stud" caught my eye. "You're re-doing the floor right? ..and fixing the beam that's split?" What does that mean?

He explained, "oh yeah, that's what it's called. We sister the broken ceiling beam by laying a stronger one alongside it."

Epiphany! That's what God did for Reid in Allie. She happened to be home from school that day nursing cold symptoms. I ran upstairs, "Allie, you're not gonna believe this. You are a sister stud!" "Seriously, that's what it's called. Google it." She did and we read together from homerenovations.com:

When you've opened up a wall to make repairs, you may encounter a bad wall stud. Don't panic; this is par for the course in remodeling. Unless absolutely necessary, you don't want to rip out the entire stud. Doing so may cause problems with surrounding struct

ural elements. Instead, sister it.

Sistering is the process of repairing a deteriorated stud by nailing a "like" piece of material next to it.

By the time I got back out to watch how they do it, it was done. I could no longer see the blemish in the beam. Were it not for the paint, I would not have known which beam had been split. And neither will you in these pictures.

I confess in my own spiritual rebellion when they were 2 (pre-diagnosis), I complained to a mom's group how Reid would've been much better off as an only child. He was so much happier alone, bothered by noise, and inflexible. Sound familiar?

Forgive me, Lord for thinking I could ever know better than you. Praise Him that He does and also tolerates all my grumbling knowing full well what I see now. Allie has been critical to Reid's development in every way. We are just beginning to see how she holds the key to his healing and restoration too.

I wouldn't trade Tuff Shed's mistake for anything now. What a visual reminder it is of God's wisdom in making Reid a twin. His sister stud comes alongside strengthens, supports, makes good as new. God intended them to be a pair. He is working out a unique purpose in both of them through each other.

Where would he be without her? Where would she be without him?

Say to wisdom, “You are my sister,” and call understanding your nearest kin Proverbs 7:4

Not many of you have met me face-to-face, but that doesn't make any difference. Know that I'm on your side, right alongside you. You're not in this alone.  Colossians 2:1-3

Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor: Ecclesiastes 4:8-10

Fine Free (Good) Friday

Mindful that it was Good Friday, I found myself fielding Reid's daily after-school negotiation for a thrift store visit. 

"Hey! isn't today the last Friday of the month?" talking to myself outloud.  

Then to Reid, "Yes it is!  You know what that means?  I get my privileges back! Let's go there..."  

Astounded he repeated, "You got your privileges back?! No way!"  (It's been awhile.)

Win, win! Library bookstores have the best thrift of all.  The only thrift worth thrifting: Disney Masterpiece VHS tapes.

And so....with that, comes this edited repost from 5 years ago. Since then they've re-named our library "Happy Hour" Fine Free Friday which is in keeping with family values.  Another reason we love libraries: they epitomize the meaning of Easter.  We can claim our privileges--of returning to the garden to commune with God--because of the ultimate Fine Free Friday!  

Happy Good Friday and Happy Easter!

Does your public library have a Happy Hour? Countywide, on the last Friday of every month, ours does. Alcohol is not served; everyone's just very happy to return late materials with no fines whatsoever, no questions asked, no due dates checked, no snickering.

Thirsty one day, and not at my usual branch, I noticed the sign on their counter. Not to be believed! Could this be? I inquired. Yes, indeed, they would rather have their books back--no matter how late--than leave them missing in action. They waive all fees, even their potential profits from replacement fees. I had incurred upwards of $50 a month before this happy time. This was very good news for me!

My husband jokes that I have lost library privileges in every state in the union, which is not quite true. We haven't moved that much!

What is true, is that I am frequent library user, a horrible procrastinator and an avoider of conflict. So, when I have books that are more than a couple days late, I go into avoidance mode feeling I can't show my face at the local branch. I bury my head shamefully in the sand while the fines steadily increase, like a taxi meter headed for the airport, finally exceeding replacement value. Of course, loving books as I do, I eventually own up and pay the exorbitant fines, considering it a good deal compared to the equivalent cost of much shipping and handling at Amazon. The library is certainly a good cause.

Until I learned about Happy Hour! Now, I mark my calendar for the last Friday of every month, anticipating another new grace period, while I search under mattresses and behind furniture for the rogue book or tape. The library has long been my favorite institution, all the moreso now! Between my over-consumption of books and Reid's penchant for stickers and de-constructivism, we have tried the patience of many a librarian. (See original post for details.)

When I carry a double digit debt at the library, my heart is heavy. I feel banned from my favorite place to browse and choose books. Trapped at home, unable to find my Get Out of Jail Free card (the missing book) I enter a stubborn refusal to pay for something I only intended to borrow. Grounded from a favorite activity, then a paralyzing guilt of neglect and tardiness set in. Chastising myself is depressing and being angry at Reid for his part in it, is not productive. Now, not to over spiritualize but, isn't sin just like that?

Happy Hour sets me free! Last time, I was visibly uplifted, walking out to the car with a fresh stack of free books! The parallel hit me with the salt air; Jesus forgives and forgets our iniquity. He gives us privileges back; the right to pray to Him and be heard without obstruction; the carefree feeling of innocence and childlike faith return; the squeaky clean shine of having unrighteousness removed as far as the east is from the west. The only difference is that His happy hour can be daily or hourly, as needed.

Wash away all my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin.

Psalm 51:1-3

But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus, his Son, purifies us from all sin. 1 John 1:6-8

When Jesus saw their faith, he said, "Friend, your sins are forgiven."

Luke 5:19-21

"Blessed are those whose transgressions are forgiven, whose sins are covered.

Romans 4:6-8

...as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us.
Psalm 103:11-13

Have a Great Day Falcons!!!

This will be short and sweet...and multi-sensory!  How can I explain all that this 5 sec. recording represents?

Reid is 18.

When he was 5, I was a naive yet stubborn advocate for full inclusion. The look I got from the preschool administrator then was, "you've got no idea lady." I didn't. But I prayed for it.

When he was 7, we homeschooled. I corralled typical neighborhood kids to join us and paid facilitators to integrate them.  I tried to make it work.

When he was 9, we enrolled him at the local elementary school. I bought stacks of books for the teacher and told her how I thought it should be done.  I tried to control it.

When he was 10, I got flowers at an IEP (more like memorial) and they showed us the door. I stopped believing it was possible.

For 8 years, Reid spent varying lengths of time at 4 of our city's finest non-public special ed schools. Typical role models were noticeably absent. I forgot my previous prayers.

Last summer, in an odd turn of events, he matriculated into our local Torrey Pines High School, a California distinguished school, just 5 miles from home with many familiar faces and families we know.  

This morning, I dropped him off at the curb with a motley throng of quintessential American teens.  He walked by a table of donuts for sale, said hi to a girl he knew there, and headed up the ramp to meet his aide.  

I still stalk. At least long enough to record him capping off the morning announcements with flair. In unison...with other members of the school body.

Is there a prayer you once prayed that you've left for dead?  Pray it again. Timing is everything.

You don’t get to know the time. Timing is the Father’s business. Acts 1:6-8 

And likewise, all the prophets who have spoken, from Samuel and his successors onward, also announced these days.  Acts 3:23-25

If you wake me each morning with the sound of your loving voice, I’ll go to sleep each night trusting in you. Psalm 143:6-8

SongStream live stream of our story

Letting someone else tell your story requires trust.  We have done this several times, either to support a program we liked, plug The Kingsmen, or just amuse our neighbors.  This time is different.  We are 100% satisfied with the result!  Nothing was taken out of context or misconstrued; we weren't surprised by any hidden agenda; I don't feel the need to editorialize or correct.

Talia and Michael checking levels with Reid

The SongStream Project is a team of young visionaries creating intimate audio experiences to tell the songs behind a story and the stories behind a song. Their conviction is that music is a vehicle for building community.

"Voices of Autism" is their first broadcast.  In it they interview 4 young musicians on the autism spectrum and their families. What results are some common threads about the power of music, a desire to change the world, and the pure joy of embracing people for who they are.

You can stream or download the broadcast here on the Soundcloud audio player.

At their Catalysten launch party, Michael and Vanessa took me aback when they thanked me for trusting them with our story.  I thanked them for being trustworthy.  It was then I realized the contentment I had had listening to it. Their telling of our story--and the massive editing it required--was accurate. That's a first!

Attentive crowd at the Catalysten release party

"On the air"

It's been said that the most powerful thing you can do for another person is to listen. Just listen. In our living room, wired for sound, they gave us that gift. They listened intently.

And so did I, to my own husband.  I didn't expect to hear anything new but I did. He owned aspects of our journey and articulated truths I had not heard from his lips before.

And so, to quote Catherine de Hueck Doherty, "With the gift of listening comes the gift of healing."

Will you listen to it and tell me what it does for you?




Give ear and hear my voice, Listen and hear my words.  Isaiah 28:22-24 

“Are you listening to this? Really listening?”  Mark 4:8-10 

King of the One Liners

Reid is the king of the one liners.*  He's got the gift of comedic timing and an economy with words I appreciate.

We were at a favorite restaurant in Palm Springs. A retrofitted old Denny's, King's Highway sits within the hipper-than-I-care-to-be Ace Hotel.  The kids love their parmesan fries; I love their signature "desert facial" cocktail...not to mention the sticky date pudding...or the Stumptown French press coffee. Our first dinner of the weekend was premeditated so, we ordered right away.

"Skirt steak and fries," Reid announced to the truly hip waiter. He's bold, definitive.

The garcon may have been taken aback but played along.  "How would you like that?" he intoned in Reid's direction.  

"Make it real," Reid didn't skip a beat.

When he was young, oh so young, I teased him from across the kitchen pulling a pint of premium ice cream out of the freezer. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" I raised my eyebrows...

His retort still cracks us up and stands as a family joke, "I'm thinkin' what I'm thinkin."

When I pray for Reid, sometimes I get a little fired up, on a roll using every method I've ever been taught, pulling out all the spiritual stops, you might say.  He allows, even welcomes this.

"You tell 'em momma!" is his commentary.

(Makes me feel like one of these House of Blues gospel brunch singers he befriended.)

This morning was a first. Reid helped with the morning PA announcements at his high school.  It takes a team to agree on this, set it up, and make it happen.  I drove him in since the bus doesn't arrive quite early enough to ensure his participation. Yesterday he came home with his portion of the script in order to practice in advance. It fit easily on a 3 x 5 card.  He had memorized it by the time I inquired.  He was whispering it under his covers as he awoke this morning, anticipating the new job. I stuck around campus to hear it, lurking on a bench, of course.

He nailed it, "Have a great day Falcons!"

Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin...  Zechariah 4:10

For God is in heaven and you are on the earth; therefore let your words be few.  Ecclesiastes 5:1-3

For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the powers, against the world forces of this darkness, against the spiritual forces of wickedness in the heavenly places.  Ephesians 6:18

*Here's Henny Youngman, dubbed "King of the One Liners" by Walter Winchell.