Sister Stud

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

Top 10 Tuesday

Top 10 Best Words of Mothering Wisdom I've Received

10. Food works.

9. Keep a journal.

8. Designate a prayer "closet."

7. Listen to your gut.

6. Say "yes" as often as possible.

5.Study your children and you'll know them better than any specialist.

4. I hate to tell you this but, it gets worse.

3. Think of it as a marathon not a sprint.

2. When you want to get someone's attention, whisper.

1. It is more important where my kids are in 20,000 years than in 20.

I am not saying I actually heeded all of this good advice at every turn but, with the bit of hindsight I have, I would say these are the ten that still ring truest.

Each of them has a back story which I'll spare you in the interest of time. Or we could make a guessing game of it: which do you think came from our home program case manager shortly after diagnosis? Which from a fundamental Christian homeschooler? Which as advice for flying cross country alone with toddler twins? Which from another mother of twins when mine couldn't walk? Which from a perfume ad campaign?

Apply it as you may or laugh in acknowledgment.

Somebody's Watching...Who's Listening?

When I was a new mom I often imagined being watched. The adoption process requires jumping through a lot of hoops, proving you're worthy, and otherwise impressing everyone from lawyers, to pregnant teens, to county employees with your perfect parent potential. Not necessarily a foolproof system; not the way God does it; just the way it is. Perhaps the fact that we were forcibly put under this microscope made me more self-conscious than most new moms.

My imagination was not so far fetched to conjure up a birthmother stalking us from behind the bushes at a local park eyeing my way with her offspring or peeping in our condo windows confirming her choice as she saw my affectionately winning ways with twins. (I've never told anyone this; November must be true confession month.) Being scrutinized and having to earn my stripes, probably made me a better mom.

My niece just moved in with us to embrace the California lifestyle. In short order, she has improved our quality of life substantially. I will be bummed when she makes enough friends to get her own apartment. She must be exhausted playing as many roles as she does to each member of our family. Being 25 years old puts her smack in the middle of the proverbial generation gap. She is a motivational novelty like none other for Reid. Her cheerful, empathetic interest in his day livens up our dinner conversation more than candlelight. She has become the namesake for his new favorite trampoline maneuver: dance dance revolution Kat-style!

Kat and Allie are like sisters neither one of them has had. She drives a convertible Beetle (way cooler than mom) and shares her hip wardrobe as readily as a personal shopper at Nordstrom's. Her memory of high school and college are still vivid enough to shed light. Her life choices are happening in real time for Allie to witness.

Actually, she is old enough, wise enough and foodie enough to be a lot like the sister I never had too! Having Kathryn here means that I am no longer alone with my thoughts. We were constant companions during the first weeks when she was unemployed and without wheels. Wanting to be sociable, apparently I began to say things out loud to her that had previously been left unsaid (or at least unheard). She would compliment, ""Your internal monologue is hilarious. You're cracking me up, I can't stand it, stop...." Who knew? I never thought of myself as that funny. She is at once a mirror, a sounding board, and an audience. Oh my goodness, she just told me she loves to iron! Jackpot, I tell you. Having a confidante and adoring fan is (in my humble opinion), making me a better writer.

Arguably, we all have an internal monologue of some sort; a conversation that goes on inside our head that others (usually) do not hear. In Reid's extroverted case, it is there for all to hear. Allow me to introduce another character in his repertoire of all-time favorites. Drum roll please......Allie-in-the-tummy. Although she has not been immortalized on the silver screen or merchandised to the hilt, she is precious to us and critical to his well being.

When she first arrived, it seemed Reid was talking to himself. Jim would correct, "Allie is upstairs, Reid. Go up there so she can hear you." He rebuffed, "No, not the real Allie, Allie-in-the-tummy." Or more directly, "Quiet! I'm talking to Allie," as if we had no manners at all.

At second glance, this talking to an imaginary person was slightly disturbing, especially given that he holds both sides of the conversation.

R: "No, Allie I don't want to do homework....it's hard. I can't" (with real tears)

A-i-t-T: "Well, you have to Reid. Mom said. I know you can do it. You're a smart boy. I'll help you...come on..."

R: "Ok Allie. You're right."

Another time during the flow of homework, we overheard this adoring dialogue:

A-i-t-T:"Reid, you look so cute in that picture."

R: "I know Allie but let's get back to work."

Allie-in-the-tummy has a slightly higher intonation and is always patient, wise, loving, and encouraging. She accompanies him to school, on the bus and to bed. Like Jiminy Cricket, she helps discern right from wrong. (I just learned that Jiminy Cricket was originally a euphemistic expletive to replace taking Jesus' (J.C.) name in vain. Ironic.

At third glance, it may seem like a twin thing, a residual of twin talk that developed when they separated for a large chunk of the day at different schools. At fourth glance (and believe me I 've pondered it more than 4 times), it is healthy self-talk, way more pertinent than any counsel or cognitive behavior theory the school psychologist may give him.

Having a readily available guide helps Reid make better choices. Furthermore, hearing his thought process helps me to understand his internal struggles and the function of some of his behavior.

So it is that I have ultimately landed on the spiritual application. Allie-in-the-tummy is akin to the voice of the Holy Spirit any of us might hear whispering in our right ear--advising, convicting, spurring us on to do good. In keeping with the character of God the Father, the Spirit's nature is faithful, upright, pure, of good repute, fair, forgiving, and tender. The opposite of the enemy's voice, His is also distinct from our own sinful human nature. We would do well to follow Reid's example, quiet ourselves, "take a minute" (as defined in his Behavior Intervention Plan) and listen for that still small voice.

Having the Holy Spirit to instruct us, makes us more like Christ.

The Spirit searches all things, even the deep things of God. For who among men knows the thoughts of a man except the man's spirit within him? In the same way, no one knows the thoughts of God except the Spirit of God. 1 Corinthians 2:9-12

Your ears will hear a word behind you, "This is the way, walk in it," whenever you turn to the right or to the left. Isaiah 30:20-22

"My sheep hear My voice, and I know them, and they follow Me; John 10:26-28

Roller Coaster...of Love

Today's New York Times has an honest, positive, and well-rounded article by Annie Lubliner Lehmann whose book, The Accidental Teacher: Life Lessons form My Silent Son, we will all have to read.

The title of the article, "A Roller Coaster to Acceptance of A Son's Autism," caught my eye because it was the very same metaphor I used to describe our adventures in autismland to a group of mothers of preschoolers (MOPS) recently. Their theme for the year is Adventures in Motherhood and each month's speaker was asked to orient their topic around a theme park ride.

Here's an excerpt from my roller coaster talk:

My house, and I’m sure some of yours too, has “never a dull moment.” Toddlers and preschoolers are by definition “on the go” which makes for an abundance of activity and unexpected surprises.We had a favorite song when my kids were preschoolers, a Scottish folk song by Bonnie Rideout. “Oh such a Hurryburry , oh what a din, oh such a hurryburry our house is in,” it went. Just when I think those days are gone some craziness happens again.

My kids are technically teenagers now, 14 yr old boy/girl twins. My son, Reid, has autism and maybe some other labels if we wanted to pin them on him—OCD, bi-polar, ADHD x 10. You name it, he seems to have a touch of it. So the hurry burry goes with the territory. In many ways our lifestyle is still as unpredictable as yours with toddlers—we are still working on language development, social skills, turn taking, sharing, using your words, even potty training. Autism affects social, language, and behavioral development—so mastery of those skills will be a lifelong pursuit for Reid.

Just last Saturday, the hurry burry set in when a friend dropped by unexpectedly (Reid thrives on structure). As I walked her to the curb, another friend walked by with her small dog. Our big dog saw the little dog through the window, which spurred a barking frenzy. Since Reid has hyper-sensitive hearing, this brought on a screaming jag and an explosive reaction. Doors were slammed and a garage door opener thrown. I am grateful to have some pretty exceptional friends who understand when I yell BYE and suddenly bolt for the door to salvage the house before my husband blew up too. Sound familiar? This is not unlike what you do with toddlers when you get off the phone abruptly, “gotta go” because of a loud noise from the other room.

I tell you all this not to bash my son or complain-- but simply to establish why I chose the roller coaster as my theme park. Most roller coasters start with a very long twisting line.

Our experience of parenting started with a very long wait –7 years of infertility followed by the twists and turns of adoption before…in total ecstasy we finally adopted TWINS—a boy and a girl no less!

Around 18 months, I had a gut feeling that something was not quite right with Reid and began asking questions of the pediatrician…wanting to be told that it was nothing. I raised every red flag on a checklist of autism symptoms.

Can you picture those hard, full-body restraint seat belts they lower over you and click into place when you get in a coaster car? That’s what it felt like when Reid was gradually diagnosed with autism around 3 years old. With no choice in the matter, we initially felt trapped, stuck, a little tricked by God, and like surely we were going to die.

Thus began the steep ascent up the first hill. We white knuckled it up every hill climb and blind turn, telling ourselves I can do this, freaking out inside, trying to fearing the future, trying to silence our second thoughts and all the "what ifs".

The slow, click, click, clicking sounds of the machinery remind me of how painstaking it is for Reid to master every new skill and developmental milestone . You can practically hear the gears turning in his brain and feel the traction that’s required to do what seems so simple for everyone else—utter a sentence, throw a ball, tolerate clothes on, blow out a candle, ride a 2-wheeler, tie his shoes.

Then the coaster goes into that free fall and drops-- along with your stomach.

Everyone around you is screaming; air is whooshing and machinery sounds seem to be turned on full blast. Reid’s body is often out of sync. He has a myriad of sensory integration issues. Background and foreground noise are one in the same for him. He hears fluorescent lights and I believe the neighbor’s television sets. When he is on overload, it becomes our reality as well. One thing can lead to another in rapid succession then, and there is no way to get off the ride.

OWHH! Then along comes a sharp turn. Your neck jerks and you are thrown around. For us, this happens when there are problems at school. We’ll have to find another one. Or when the daily phone call from school includes an “incident report” or “problem behavior” documented for the record. Turn after turn. Hang on!! When will this end?

(Can you tell I don’t like roller coasters?) Here’s why I think God allows them…or what I’ve learned about God from the one I’m on!

First thing I’ve noticed about coasters—even from the ground level where I usually just sit and watch-- is that even the people who love them, mostly love them at the end. When they are over. Waiting in line, they’re scared, anxious, tense, and insecure. It’s not until the final braking and coasting into the station that the smiles form across their faces. It’s only when they’re de-boarding the vehicle—taking all your belongings with you—that they say, “Let’s do it again!”

1 John 1:4 says “what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we have looked at and touched with our hands, we proclaim to you also, These things we write, so that our joy may be made complete.”

Our joy does tend to come at the end. God’s seems to indicate here that our joy will be complete at the end of the ride, not necessarily at every climb and twist and turn along the way.

Secondly, God doesn't leave us alone. I can count on one hand how many coasters I’ve ridden. One was at the Del Mar Fair. My daughter reallllly wanted to go on one. No dad around. You can’t put an 8 yr old on one of those rickety rides by herself so, I had to buck up and do it. In total self-sacrifice and protection, I said yes. I didn’t ride that one because I wanted to, but because she asked me to! I don’t think I would be on this ride-of-my-life if God had not asked me to take it. And, moreover, He goes with me, which really does make it all OK.

"Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the LORD your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you." Deuteronomy 31:5-7

Another time I found myself on Space Mountain in Disneyworld. The only thing worse than a fair roller coaster is one in the dark where you sit single file! This time we were with courageous boy cousins and a grandfather who pressured Allie and I into taking it. Papa Jim, her grandfather remembered it (from 30 yrs prior) and assured us it was very tame…nothing really. Well, we believed him until we entered the first dark tunnel. It was not tame! Allie was mad. She won’t trust Papa again…at least in theme parks.

Lastly, God doesn’t betray us. He clearly indicates that there will be trials along the way: in this world. He doesn't want us to be surprised; he doesn't talk us into things, He talks us through them in His Word.


"In the world you have tribulation, but take courage; I have overcome the world." John 16:33


"Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal among you, which comes upon you for your testing, as though some strange thing were happening to you; but to the degree that you share the sufferings of Christ, keep on rejoicing" 1 Peter 4


"Just think—you don't need a thing, you've got it all! All God's gifts are right in front of you as you wait expectantly for our Master Jesus to arrive on the scene for the Finale. And not only that, but God himself is right alongside to keep you steady and on track until things are all wrapped up by Jesus. God, who got you started in this spiritual adventure, shares with us the life of his Son and our Master Jesus. He will never give up on you. Never forget that.
1 Corinthians 1:6-8 from The Message

"2 BY 2"

No sooner had I posted the article on Bittersweet Farms in Ohio than I received this one about the L'Arche community in Tacoma, Washington. Residents maintain a farm, create and sell products at local farmer's markets, and engage in meaningful relationships. They are a family group committed to a simple life and conscious of spirituality. Why does this ring a bell? After a bit of research and head tapping, I remembered. L'Arche is the place that inspired several of Henri Nouwen's books (one of which I read years ago before my interest in autism). He is one of the fathers of contemplative spirituality. While living with people with developmental disabilities, Nouwen's understanding of service, relationship, connectedness, faith and Christ-likeness was redefined. He writes about how he benefited from their presence.

L'Arche is an international network of 133 communities founded by Jean Vanier in France in 1964. The journal of Nouwen's year at L’Arche Trosly is captured in The Road to Daybreak: A Spiritual Journey. Another book, Adam, God's Beloved, is an inspiring account of how his life was transformed through friendship with a core member of the L'Arche Daybreak community in Toronto. I love the empowerment and inclusion that is integral to their philosophy; they are intentional about creating mutually beneficial relationship and developing the unique gifts of each individual. Amen to that! The L'Arche story is told in depth in this excellent 14 minute interview.

L'Arche means "the ark" in French. My license plates have read "2 BY 2" since my kids were a year old. The selection of these vanity plates is a triple entendre. I'm not sure the average passerby gets any of the three references. More than once, men have chuckled and commented on my plates thinking I am making an anti-4-wheeler statement, as if to say, "Awww that's cute...she only has 2-wheel drive." Little do they know, it referred to the lovely picture book we read every night at bedtime, Twins: Two by Two by Catherine and Laurence Anholt. Their whimsical illustrations of boy and girl twins (like ours) show them role playing various species: crocodiles splashing in the bathroom, kangaroos jumping into bed, and mice all curled up asleep. Memories...!

The 2 BY 2 plates were also a more overt reference to Noah's ark in celebration of our babies arriving as a pair. Our vehicle was decked with double car seats and life felt suddenly like an epic adventure. As it was for those boarding Noah's ark, we distinctly felt that God was intervening in Allie and Reid's lives. He was lifting them, as it were, through adoption, from one setting to quite another for reasons they could not understand.

Thirdly, 2 BY 2 is a Biblical reference to the way Jesus sent out his disciples. Never alone, always in pairs, they were sent to spread the good news. It continues to comfort me to know we are not alone either in whatever task he calls us to do.

So, the L'Arche concept resonates on many levels. Is there one near you? Has anyone had personal experience with L'Arche?


"After this the Lord appointed seventy-two others and send them two by two ahead of him to every town and place where he was about to go." Luke 10:1-3


"...they went into the ark to Noah by twos, male and female, as God had commanded Noah. Genesis 7:8-10


"Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth." Matthew 5:4-6

photo credit: www.larche.org; www.anholt.co.uk