Unplugged...literally

Last Thursday of all Thursdays, we experienced a power outage in all of San Diego. Perhaps you read about it. What the news didn't mention was that Paula Dawson and I had been working for months with Tobias Haglund planning our first annual San Diego Capernaum fundraiser. All that day, we had loaded, unloaded and shlepped belly bar tables, glassware, raffle items, and provisions from around the county up to the 5th floor rooftop venue for this "perfect evening." By 3:00 we were home to shower. At 3:38 the power was out. Regardless of the unforeseen problem, we were back on the roof by 6:00 unable to turn our enthusiasm off.

As Proverbs 19:21 says, "Many are the plans in a person’s heart, but it is the LORD’s purpose that prevails." Following is the letter we delivered the morning after to nearly 100 guests who could not make it...and a few more pictures because we were just so pumped up to celebrate the first year of this ministry!

The people rubbed their eyes, incredulous—and then also gave glory to God. Awestruck, they said, "We've never seen anything like that!"

Luke 5:26 The Message

the namesake story of Capernaum matched our experience last night at the Rooftop Soiree when God said, “Let there be candlelight and a full moon.”

Have you ever planned something that didn’t turn out quite the way you planned it…yet it was still awesome?

Clearly, last Thursday night we were planning one thing and the Lord had another idea. Our preparations for you to hear the highlights of the first year of San Diego Capernaum’s existence were thwarted by the power outage. But not doused.

Twenty-five of us did make it, believe it or not. We have included the photos to prove it. We hope this goodie bag might be the next best thing to being there. When you have time, read on and we will tell you how it went.

Many of you have asked this morning after, “How can I help?” The short answer is: You could complete the enclosed giving card and return it to us. Our top priority is to increase monthly giving through electronic funds transfers of any amount. More on that below…

Parents of special needs kids share an almost universal experience of finding God’s greater glory in the midst of what can feel like disappointment or loss at first. A son you thought you’d teach to surf never does. Instead God’s plan for him is to touch hearts through music and transform your family from the inside out. A daughter who may never live alone brings joy to hundreds of “typical” kids at camp with a highly contagious laugh. Last night was one more opportunity to practice flexibility, acceptance of whatever the Lord gives or takes away, and squint our eyes to recognize hidden blessings.

Who would’ve imagined how the Spirit would move amidst the more intimate crowd: the One Hope wine rep was clearly inspired; a volunteer catering assistant hugged us and said he’d like his daughter to work at the camp he heard described; one diehard couple came unshowered after cleaning their salt water aquarium that had flooded; and every single one of our faithful volunteer leaders stayed into the wee hours to fellowship.

We were blessed by your intentions of attending. It was an incredible setting. Liz Stiger told touching stories about the privilege of being the “best friend” to numerous teens with disabilities. She has walked alongside them as they face real trials and make life-changing decisions. She called us to bold belief like the four men who lowered their friend through the roof at Capernaum to get him to Jesus' feet. She told modern day examples of transformation that take place when we invite Jesus into our heart. And she testified to the benefits that inclusive camping offers to the typical kids.

Wonderful as it was to hear her, sample savory treats and and sip a cold Corona after braving the incredulous traffic to finally get there, our goal was not just to show you a night on the town with food, music and a spectacular view. Our goal was to communicate to you the vision of Young Life Capernaum, show you the mighty way God is working through our Area Director, Tobias Haglund and his team, and give you an easy opportunity to participate.

We are convinced God wants San Diego Capernaum to be healthy and self-sustaining. After just 6 months in operation we have grown from serving 8 families to 22. It gives us joy as a Committee that God lets us help Him collect the financial resources needed to sustain and grow this ministry. We have seen first hand the incredible things God is doing through Tobias and his faithful and unbelievably talented leadership team. You can too on our webpage or Facebook where we will post the slideshow and Talent Show video we prepared.

Our fundraising goal for the second year is $70,000. We need $40,000 to “keep the lights on” (pun intended). Another $15,000 would enhance the program (North County is begging for a second Club location), provide additional training, and send more kids to summer camp next year. We also think it prudent to have $15,000 in the bank going into year three. Praise God that we currently have $13,000 in monthly pledges, so we are on our way.

The enclosed card outlines three ways to participate with us; we need Prayers, Players, and Payers. We hope you will check one of those and return it to us.

Payers may give online or by mail. We have donors giving from $5 per month to $400 per month. The automatic withdrawal option is easy, maintenance free, and gives you an email receipt every month. Please consider this as you contemplate your participation. Other donors prefer to give one-time gifts. We appreciate both.

We praise God for the incredible memories of last night: the full moon, the safe arrival and departure of our speaker from Washington, our accident-free exit down five flights of stairs in the dark, the opportunity to feed the homeless of San Diego with copious party trays, the flashlight in Sally’s purse, 2 out of 4 Kingsmen singing Switchfoot's “This is Your Life” unplugged, the exuberant smiles of downtown dwellers who could walk home, the unforgettable memory of being above the fray as sirens sounded without ceasing and the Kingdom work God lets us help Him do.

Who would have thought God's saving power would look like this?
 Isaiah 53:1-3

A Good Trade

He shot off the school bus forcing back tears. Running straight to his room, shutting the door he began an intense conversation with himself. "Mom, stay out I need privacy," may have been shown more clearly than it was said. I kept a distance while he brought a half dozen reusable shopping bags from the garage and filled them with the VCR tapes that line his desk. The self-talk was emotional and heart wrenching:

"Please don't take them away."

"You don't need those anymore."

"You can do it Reid. Just give me a bag."

"Allie I'm so sorry I've wasted your time." sobbing

"Will you forgive me?"

I sat on the stairs interceding, texting my prayer partner, and absorbing the significance of this cathartic scene. It was painful to sit and watch yet, promising. Wondering what had gone down at school that day, I was sure this must be a step in the progressive breakthrough we've been asking for. Victory is coming over the addictions and obsessions Reid battles. I knew for sure I hadn't prompted the video removal this time. It was entirely spontaneous and self-initiated.

As his tears and intensity subsided, I noticed the approaching dinner hour. In the drama, it completely slipped my mind that Tobias, Area Director of our newly launched Young Life Capernaum ministry, was coming at 5:00pm to hang out for their long anticipated "contact" time. Oh boy:/ Finally, now?! How would this possibly play out?

I spared Tobias the blow by blow and began the old spiel I give every first time caregiver and respite worker. Reciting the steps to structured success and doling out $5 for the ritual trip to Roberto's, I paused. Wait! The Spirit prompting me now, Let this be a new leaf. Let me show you the new thing I am doing.

I backed off, "I'll be upstairs if you need me, do whatever you want." Leaving them in the family room with the tv still on, I returned to my prayer stair. Before I knew it my tears started to flow.

Not only did Reid turn off the tv (an unheard of action usually requiring at least 10 minutes of negotiation and transition), but he promptly took the chord charts from Tobias' binder and broke into the purest form of worship this side of the pearly gates.

They continued for an hour through praise song after praise song about God's love. He Knows my Name...How He Loves Us...Mighty to Save...

Like a natural born worship leader, Reid called out lyrics to an invisible audience. Side by side they brought down the presence of the Lord to inhabit the praises of His people.

Those songs of deliverance perfectly timed, were the antidote to Reid's traumatic day, the encouragement of things to come, a replacement for what he laid down, and salve on the wounds of loss represented in those four shopping bags of dvd's.

All I could think of was how that day, that appointment--unbeknownsdt to us--had been ordained long before in order to answer our call for help and give him something better in return for the idols he was casting down.

Relating easily now, he and Tobias made a plan to sing every other Thursday leading others in worship. For such a time as this, Capernaum is in San Diego....and not just for Reid.

The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world. On the contrary, they have divine power to demolish strongholds. We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ. 2 Corinthians 10:5

For if you remain silent at this time, relief and deliverance for the Jews will arise from another place, but you and your father’s family will perish. And who knows but that you have come to your royal position for such a time as this?” Esther 4:13-15

The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me,
because the LORD has anointed me
to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me...to bestow on them a crown of beauty
instead of ashes,
the oil of joy
instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
instead of a spirit of despair. Isaiah 61

The Best Title in the World

For most of my childhood and early adult life, my primary aspiration was to be a mother. Still, after all the mellowing that age, reality and experience has accomplished, being a mom remains the title of which I am most proud. Maybe that is why this Autism File project appeals to me so much. As soon as I received it from Jeneil at Rhema's Hope, I got on the line, as it were, to organize a shoot here in San Diego. Oh Lord, "I want to be in that number!! When the saints go marching in..." was my theme song that day.

Maybe it's because of the campaign's edge. It's more Helen Reddy than Hallmark. It doesn't sugar-coat motherhood when autism is involved. As lovely and feminine as these women are, behind each one is a story of struggle, sorrow, hard work, loss, small victories and endless hope. The undefined yet undeniable details of their story make them all the more beautiful. To those of us in the same boat, the camaraderie is palpable. Proclaiming our reality focuses our force, strengthens our activism, magnifies our moxie, and generates gratitude for guts and grit.

The sermon this morning resonated with a related truth. Using the story of Ruth and Naomi as the springboard, our pastor pointed out that sorrow can form our deepest relationships. Both women are widowed, penniless, and destitute. Sharing this struggle bonded them more than any family parties or good times they'd ever had. How true. This would explain why I feel such kinship with each face and every far corner of the earth on this video. Women I've never had coffee with, never walked with, never partied with, but who I feel I know at a deep level.

Of course, the end of the story is that God blesses Ruth's faithfulness (to Him and her mother-in-law Naomi), with another husband, and a child who gives her place in the lineage of King David and Jesus of Nazareth. Not bad for a family that almost ended completely with 2 homeless beggar women!

I pray He will do the same for each of you "autism mothers" reading this. May God bless your faithfulness to Him and your family for generations to come.

Now, when are you taking a portrait in your 'hood?


Do a favor and win a friend forever; nothing can untie that bond. Proverbs 18:18-20 The Message


Don't burn out; keep yourselves fueled and aflame. Be alert servants of the Master, cheerfully expectant. Don't quit in hard times; pray all the harder. Romans 12:10-12 The Message


God reward you well for what you've done—and with a generous bonus besides from God, to whom you've come seeking protection under his wings. Ruth 2:10-12

How Can you Mend a Broken Heart?

Are you participating this month in the Turning the Tide! Prayer Thrust? I've been praying the prompts that Children of Destiny has provided for each day. Have you printed out the calendar? Or are you using the pop-up windows online each morning?

They do an awesome job leading us in corporate scriptural prayers that are relevant and specific. Praise God for the Systema's! Bless them with continued wisdom and stamina. Yesterday's theme "Healing for Broken Hearts" got me thinking...and is as good a template as any for blogging.



The Lord surely can mend a broken heart. Indeed, it is the expressed reason why He sent Jesus to earth. The Isaiah 61:1 verse, He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners” prophecies Jesus arrival and declares the Mission Statement of His ministry. I remember learning this verse in Stephen Ministry training as the foundational reason Christians come alongside others, in His name, to offer comfort and healing. Further, we are more effective and empathetic doing so when we ourselves are wounded healers, with our own firsthand experience of having a broken heart bound up, healed, mended.

This side of Heaven, there are a myriad of reasons our hearts break. Autism is but one. Crushing experiences throughout any one lifespan run the gamut from not being invited to prom...to not knowing a parent...to harsh words from a spouse...to cancer, poverty and murder. Certainly in this country, our struggles are all relative. On the one hand, I think we can get out of the brokenhearted mode by being grateful for all that we do have--the joy of celebrating hard won victories, the laughter with other moms, the blogging community, the incredible availability of services, the benefit of articulate adults on the spectrum, the time we live in (post-Bettleheim) and so on and so forth....

I need to guard against complaining or using autism as a scapegoat for all my problems. In our household, we are starting to recognize that this may be a pattern to correct even in casual conversation. It can sound like this:

"Are we going out of town for spring break?" Can't...autism.
"Will we be flying cross-continent for Thanksgiving?" Can't...autism.
"Why don't we replace the ripped leather trampoline, I mean sofa?" Can't...autism.

Autism becomes the excuse for everything, the reason we don't do anything! And then we become dangerously close to being in bondage to it. And we are not. We make choices based on the needs of each individual in our family--Jim needs gluten-free food; Allie likes to sleep in; Reid can only fly so far; I hate the heat.

"Who left the car door open?" REID!!
"Who forgot to flush the toilet?" Reeeid!
"Who spilled the water over here?" Reeid!

Blaming autism can feel awfully close to blaming Reid. That's not fair or fun or accurate. Truth be told, lately it is not always him. I give a silent cheer--and so does he--when someone else slips up and he can point the finger at their minor offense.

I have a soul sister friend who is much better at separating her child from the his disorder. At our most aggravated junctures in the last 12 years, we call each other to vent. Her common opener has been, "I just gotta say, I hate autism right now." Not once have I heard her attribute her frustration to her son. Sometimes I must confess to at least mentally saying, "he's driving me crazy." Hear the difference? It's the old maxim with a new twist: Hate the sin, love the sinner.

That's part of it, the other part of it is freeing up our kids to have new wineskins as the Bible calls them, rather than holding them to old ways of coping. Raising the bar and filling in the old notches, so to speak. Are there ways that my expectations (or habits) hold Reid in an old behavior pattern? Small example: Reid used to wait for me to open the garage door for him. He insisted and waited as long as it took. Well, one day I was a couple minutes late for his bus. I pulled up to see the garage door open. Given the necessity, he had been able to key in the code and let himself in. Note to self: now he can open the door for all of us, carry in groceries, and get the mail.

Back to mending the broken heart. Fortunately or unfortunately, we don't get to choose our own category of suffering. A Sovereign Lord does that, all the while ensuring that He will work it together for good and never give us more than we can bear. What we can control is what we do with the particular challenges He allows in our life, how we respond, what we learn from them.

Our first reactions may not be our ultimate response. At any time along the journey, the Lord invites our hot tears and waits with His hand extended for us to give Him our hearts. He is like a father who's willing and able to fix a broken toy, if only the child will hand it to him--and part with the fractured pieces. Turning our broken hearts over to God in prayer is the first step to being mended.

I learned this the hard way when Reid was being diagnosed. We had moved to Chicago for what ended up being 12 freezing months. In what felt like a cruel joke, Jim was traveling back to California Monday through Friday; my mom was newly engaged and pre-occupied in head-over-heels infatuation; and I knew not a soul in this new town. My dreams were being dashed by total strangers who'd arrive at the doorstep, assess my 2 1/2 year old with a list of deficits and a grim prognosis, then leave never to be seen again. Suffice it to say, I cried myself to sleep on the sofa regularly.

Heartbreak turned to anger. I was mad at Jim for deserting me, mad at my mom for being happy, mad at the therapists for judging my little pride and joy, and ultimately mad at God for letting any of this be. I felt tricked like he had pulled a fast one on me while I wasn't looking.

Somewhere along the line in that isolation, I also realized it would be shooting myself in the foot to stay mad at God. Clearly, He had more power to help me than my mom ever will. At that time, He seemed a bit more attentive than my husband. Certainly, He was more knowledgeable about the course of action we needed to chart than the best specialist. I think I actually realized this faster and more acutely because I was separated from my usual support system. I was left alone with the One with whom the buck stopped. Not a bad place to be, actually!

Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. Matthew 5:3-5 As I moved closer to Him in prayer--or rather stopped backing away in anger--I was happier. To be in His presence always feels good. Worship and prayer put us there.

Psalm 120 gives us clear permission to vent our distress and misery. God can take it. Not only that, He is close to the brokenhearted. Let it out! I just returned from our Maundy Thursday service so am freshly impressed that He is the One who endured watching His own precious Son eaten alive by the angry mob. This God can sympathize with every affliction known to man. We have something in common; we're made in His image with a soul and a heart that has the capacity to love, feel, and therefore break with sadness, regret, and loss.

The Psalmists approached God with every single human emotion--distress, desperation, vengeance, impatience, gratitude, anger and hatred. The fact that the Psalms are included in Biblical inspiration proves that honesty is not inconsistent with worship. Remarkably, something about relinquishing every single heart wrenching feeling results in His making us whole again. We were made to worship and be in His presence. When we do, our attitude and our perspective changes.

Psalm after Psalm begins with self and ends with God. Our emotion, His truth. Our honesty, His promises. Our pain, His comfort. Our weakness, His strength. Our broken hearts, His healing. Our suffering, His redemption.

I know it is OK to woe and yet, I don't want to be so "woe is me" that I make autism out to be worse than the horrific things happening around the globe that also break God's heart. Cancer, slavery, torture, paralysis, murder. Would any of us prefer to be living in those conditions? I love my life and how God has redeemed it; and I pray there is joy that comes through the end of each post even if I begin with brutal honesty. If not, read a Psalm instead! There are 150.

“The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” Psalm 34:18

You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book. Psalm 56:8

I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. Ezekiel 36:25-27

My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. Psalm 73:25-27

I have heard your prayer and seen your tears. I will heal you..." 2 Kings 20:5

Dads Rule!

Dads are noticeably absent from many parent support groups as well as PTA meetings and carpool. Usually, this is for good reason; they are working! My husband pointed this out while I was whining once about his lack of presence at my daughter's daytime school socials. At the time, she went to a private school in an over-the-top, affluent, community neighboring ours. There, many dads were visible and apparently self-employed or independently wealthy. In autism circles there is another, sadder reason for the female-dominated landscape. It is estimated that roughly 50% of fathers with children diagnosed with ASD, leave their families, unable to handle the emotional strain.

Just yesterday at a birthday party, we watched a single mom run the events alone enlisting other dads to string up and repair the pinata. I don't know the particulars of her divorce, but can easily project the familiar scenario. It saddens me because I grew up without a dad (for different reasons). It smacks close to home to see the dynamic perpetuated. Without question, having a child with autism adds stress to a household and a marriage. From the early days of diagnosis and intervention, to the financial burden of therapies and advocates, to the emotional waves of acceptance and recurrent loss, to the onslaught of puberty and unanswerable questions about the future, it is just plain harder than anyone expects.

Mired with unprocessed loss, I think spouses can sub-consciously blame and punish each other for the predicament. Rather than get angry at the child or the disability or at God, they bicker with each other. If I am honest, there have been many stressful moments, explosive bickering, even years of distance between Jim and I. At the same time, I praise God for the rich rewards of riding the storm and choosing to weather it together. What seals our vows, cements our bond and validates our marriage are the trials we've overcome. To have thrown in the towel would have robbed us of the sense of accomplishment we now feel as well as the sense of wonder at how God sustains those who seek after Him.

Jim and I arrived at a benefit fundraiser years ago. Along the manicured pathways of the hotel property, were posted the most dire statistics one could find, about marriage and prognoses regarding autism. (It was not Autism Speaks.) I can't say we donated much money that night. Who wants to support (what was portrayed as) a sinking ship ? And who wants to pay the ticket price the following year to be depressed by statistics? The hopeless portrayal may have pulled at the heartstrings of those not directly familiar with autism. But for me, it served to alienate and anger me. "It's not that bad!" I wanted to scream from the podium, "I need to hear hope in order to survive!" We did secretly gloat a bit that we were "not a number." The night was salvaged with a game of ping pong when we spotted the husband-wife team who were our educational consultant and advocate at the time. Serendipity, for when else would we have planned a social event with such real life heroes? Through tremendous trials of their own, they have forged an incredibly productive partnership. That's how it happens: the hero's pattern of hardship and recovery, hardship and recovery.

Back to my original point: this Chicago dad, James Harlan, is doing something about to bolster dads in the trenches. His wife, Debra Vines, started The Answer Inc. to serve the Chicago area autism community. Noticing how few men attended, he started "Just for Men" a support group specifically for dads. Contrast the character of Mr. Harlan with our neighbor who once offered this unsolicited commentary on us to his wife, "If I were Jim, I'd leave her." Unconscionable, that he would feel justification for that, let alone express the thought out loud. (And why his wife shared it with me, I'll never know either.) I can only be glad Reid didn't end up in his home, but rather with a dad like my husband.

Another voice in the darkness is Erik Weber. I wrote of him earlier as he mastered college life. Now a college grad, he has written a book, Autism for Dads: The Importance of a Father's Love, which is being sold by the Autism Tree Project Foundation. Erik's dad died suddenly in 1997, leaving Erik to grieve the "loss of the perfect dad" in ironic counterpoint to what he says ails the majority of autism dads: the "loss of the perfect child." In contrast to the statistical evidence, Erik's father left a legacy of love and faith that remain a "beacon of light to illuminate God's path for him." He attributes his faith in God and his dad's example to empowering him to defy odds and exceed anyone's prognosis for him.

Jim has a tongue-in-cheek expression to sum up his legacy to Reid. "Must be all that ball throwing," he says, at once self-congratulatory and self-deprecating. Of course, Jim did teach Reid years ago to play catch with a ball and mitt. There was a time they would do ten obligatory throws before dinner. It was tedious, as all new skills are for Reid to learn. At the time, I was homeschooling and ostensibly doing more with Reid, like covering the 3 R's.

I guess that's what makes it funny. We know it's not really the ball throwing. In fact, the synergy of other efforts--the osteopath, the neurological exercises, the mega-vitamins, the OT, the PT, the speech, the therapy--are all making the ball throwing possible. Nonetheless, that is the one quantifiable skill for which Jim takes credit. He likes to imagine the ball throwing was the floodgate for every other positive outcome.

The phrase is employed still whenever Reid reaches some belated milestone, say riding his two-wheeler bike or setting the table independently. Jim sounds off, "Must be all that ball throwing!" He's even used it in an IEP meeting. When something positive was reported, he caught my eye and mouthed the words, "all the ball throwing." It has, thankfully, become his most macho way of patting his male ego on the back for being an engaged father.

Rather than baseball, it is care giving that physiologically energizes women. In the early years, I now see how I gave and gave and gave to Reid without really wearying much. It actually filled me up with purpose and envigorated me. (This is not how-to advice for your marriage.) In contrast, fathering is less about nurture and more about preparation. As Reid has reached adolescence, many of the emotions I had at diagnosis have reared their ugly heads again, but this time from Jim's perspective. It is recurrent loss mixed with fear of the future which is staring us in the face. All of a sudden the future is now. (Couple that with the fact that Jim is a Futurist on his Strengthsfinder inventory so, he lives there anyway.) It's all good. God made us male and female, male and female He created us.


So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them. Genesis 1:26-28

"I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." John 16:32-33

So guard yourself in your spirit, and do not break faith with the wife of your youth. Malachi 2:14-16

If you then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!" Luke 11:12-14