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

Attitude Adjustment

"Erasing Autism," is the title of the article in Newsweek. The illustration jars my spirit. It would be wrong to cut Reid out of our family portrait. The ultimate exclusion. Equally wrong to eliminate him from the church body or society at large. Kudos to Ari Ne'eman for having the courage to stand up in Washington and defend neurodiversity.

Since they were born, I have felt my utmost purpose as a mother is to assure both my kids that their lives are on purpose and their position in our family is secure. Adoption has heightened that goal in my mind as much as (or more than) autism.

This article comes on the heels of NPR, Time and GQ reviews of Karl Taro Greenfield's book, Boy Alone: A Brother's Memoir, about his brother Noah who is now, in fact, a man alone with aging parents and a brother who will not necessarily be his keeper. While I admire Greenfield's honesty and empathize with his circumstance, I am saddened by the bitterness, resentment and cruelty in his voice. As a mom, I hope to model and instill values that will dictate a different prerogative in my daughter's life as a sibling.

This double assault to my sensibility is a stark contrast to where my mind dwells. It reminds me of a huge victory my daughter scored over the Enemy last summer when she proclaimed God's sovereignty in designing our family.

Arguably, Allie has withstood the most potentially damaging impact of Reid's autism. The demands of his behavior and intervention could certainly be breeding grounds for resentment, perceived neglect, and anger. She would have every earthly "right" to object and could have the most to gain by erasing Reid from the proverbial family album. Oddly, ironically, fortunately, wisely, she does not desire that. Like Ari Ne'eman, the Aspie in the Newsweek article, she is close enough to the reality to be an informed expert witness. She also has absorbed enough of God's truth from the Bible that it is the plumb line for her attitude toward her brother.

Last summer, we found a winning solution to the recurrent and age-old question of how to vacation with extended family. My generous, peace-loving mother rented us our very own place a mile or so away from her vacation home. In her words, "it was the best visit we'd had in 14 years." Not being under the same roof turned out to be a key to enjoying a week together. There was no comparison between her model home "Moor the Merrier" and our "Duck Inn" on the Isle of Nantucket. To each his own. Truth be told, we preferred the sunken sandy threshold and indestructible nature of the Duck to her pristine white slipcovers and fine bone china collector appointments. Can you say, damage control?

We enjoyed lots of different pairings of cousins and aunts without the tension of sharing bathrooms and sleep patterns. My mom claimed one night to herself with Allie--an intentional effort to compensate. Woohoo! Fancy schmancy time alone with grandma to shop in Nantucket town and sleep at the big house under 500 thread count cotton sheets. Score! Reid stayed behind with us in the beater, low-rent, rental shack we'd pragmatically chosen. There was a wistfulness to their departure, recalling what might have been, reckoning what is "normal" and even wishing life were different. We all felt it.

That night, as Allie scampered off excitedly for their girls night out, she remembered she had not said goodbye to Reid. She asked my mom if she could go back in to do so.

My faithful mother has experienced her own loss in regard to Reid's autism and our family's reality. When Allie rejoined her in the car she couldn't help but notice, "Oh, Allie, you really love Reid don't you." Allie said, "Oh, yes I do. He has come so far. I used to wish Reid didn't have autism but now I am glad he does because I have learned so much. I am much more patient than I would be otherwise and life would have been so boring. I wouldn't be who I am if it weren't for Reid." Further discussion about the fruits of the Holy Spirit ensued. Without any hesitation, my meek, sage, spirit-filled Allie, had edified the moment and "taken her thoughts captive and made them obedient to Christ." 2 Corinthians 5:3-5

We learn from children. I learn from Allie. According to the Bible, the Kingdom of God belongs to such as them. Allie's perspective even on adult issues, is an example to us. If the ultimate spiritual rebellion is to think we can make decisions that belong to God alone, then the converse is what I'll strive for instead. The ultimate spiritual obedience is to accept from the hand of God all that He allows in our lives.


Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others. Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus Philippians 2:4-6


For the word of God is living 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 4:11-13



"For who has known the mind of the Lord that he may instruct him?" But we have the mind of Christ. 1 Corinthians 2:15-16

That Didn't Just Happen!

Last month, I gave a talk to the Mothers of Preschoolers (MOPS) group that meets at our church. Their theme for the year is "Adventures in Mothering." It immediately seemed destined that I say yes, since we had titled our adoption letter "Adventures with Andy and Jim" 15 years prior. Certainly, adventure is something we claimed to seek out. As it happens, it seeks us out too! The A-words seem to cling to me like dog hair on velour: autism, adoption, adventure, awkward. (Hoping Alzheimer's won't be next.)

I was given the topic, "Raising a Special Needs Child" and asked to liken it to a particular theme park ride. A roller coaster came instantly to mind. As God would have it, my talk to these young moms, centered as much on God's Timelessness and Providence as it did on autism.

Babbie Mason swooning Timeless, sums it up musically. Scroll down here if you want to hear a clip of her great song and voice. For 99 cents, it could be the best deal on Amazon.

Coincidences aren't really chance at all. Rather, they are signposts of God at work "orchestrating a holy-set up to speak to us" as Beth Moore says. He sustains and guides human destiny because He loves us (and because He can). Any and every circumstance--infertility, adoption, autism, illness--works together for good, across the barriers of time to accomplish His purposes.

I reflected on the verses that had guided me through infertility, then took on new meaning in hindsight. Verses like John 9:1-3 which I first interpreted as, "Why am I infertile?"...and then again later, "why does Reid have autism?" Serendipitous, how we chose a verse like "immensely more than you can ask or imagine" for our adoption appeal letter not knowing how literally God would answer it giving us two babies not one! Uncanny, how God led us to choose a verse in the past knowing what it would mean to us in the future.

I built my premise on Ephesians 3:20 that God operates in a 4th dimension. In addition to height, length, and width, He has time at His disposal. The whole talk is about 40 minutes so I'll be excerpting her in print for some time.

Here's the clincher. Nervous and excited about public speaking, I arrived plenty early to acclimate to the large multi-purpose room where MOPS meet. At their sign-in table along with the name tags were directories for the year. Guess what was on the cover? A roller coaster and the Ephesians 3:20 verse! Who knew?

You got it! Not only does He know, He loves each of us enough to make our day. I love how He loves us with mini-miracles (as my mom calls them) like that...deploying His infinite power over timing and providence in finite details to demonstrate His immense love for us.

Has God made your day lately? How?


And I pray that you...grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge Ephesians 3:17-19


Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to Him be glory Ephesians 3:20


As he went along, he saw a man blind from birth. His disciples asked him, "Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?" "Neither this man nor his parents sinned," said Jesus, "but this happened so that the work of God might be displayed in his life. John 9:1-3

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

Starfish, Starfish wonder what you are...

This little ditty on Sara Groves' Station Wagon CD spun through my head as I spotted something on the surface of the sand and lunged for it like treasure.

starfish starfish wonder what you are fish
time and tide go washing by and
you don't even care

peaceful creature come and be my teacher
flotsam, jetsam swish and swirl.

I'm not saying I remembered all those lines at the time and obviously I got my sea creatures mixed up. Not until I sit to write this, did it dawn on me that I found a sand dollar not a starfish....pshchw details! Treasure is treasure and I don't happen to know a sand dollar song! Do you? The tune put me in mind of the book, One Small Starfish by Anne Addison which is excellent resource...which led me to...the mind races so fast from one thought to the next, you know how it goes. Soon the the ideas turn into ones that you know aren't your own. They take on a symbolic, metaphoric, distinctly divine quality.

The thoughts flooded so fast I could identify them as from God. I can't fabricate ideas that quickly let alone spell them out in words. I have learned to run my thoughts through two filters in order to prove them of God. First, do they correlate with Scripture? Second, do they agree with His nature? If yes on both counts, then I take it as from God to me. If no, then the voice could be my own or that of the enemy. Indeed, these sounded like His voice.

What a glorious, sunny, low tide shore! No question, I'd found a whole sand dollar. Stoked, I turned it over in my hand to see the underside. Despite it's unquestionable wholeness, it had a definite dent. Not broken or cracked, just pushed in...wow...almost as if it were an organic 3-dimensional model of the top down SPECT scan view of Reid's brain I had just reviewed with a third psychiatrist. Smack dab in the right front quadrant was this considerable impression. Hmuh?...an uncanny representation of the white hot, overactive spot that makes his scan resemble a stop action photo of fireworks lighting up a July sky. The hot spots, otherwise referred to as a "ring of fire," were top priority to treat. This little gem of a sand dollar reminded me of my fearfully and wonderfully made boy in a split second. He is an incomparable find...placed in my path...specifically for me...unique, beautiful and whole...impressive and impressionable...that, like the sand dollar, arrived smaller than average.

Just steps down the beach, I found another sand dollar. What a day! Is this one Allie? Bigger, cleaner, not perfect either, but more speckled and gray than marred, like the first. My steps quickened to instinctively "show and tell" with two little girls playing in my stride. "Look, wanna see what I found? Aren't they special?" I imagined saying these words as well as, "You can keep it." Before I could utter them, they caught in my throat with ostenstibly selfish thoughts like, "They're mine. Finders keepers. You can look but, please don't touch them." I walked quietly by instead of stopping. Now, intentionally keeping my mind open to more thoughts from the Father. "Keep them, they're for you today," He seemed to say.

Hmmm...keep them as a sign...of this push and pull dynamic that is perpetual for mothers...like letting out and reeling in the line of a kite. Relinquishment and responsibility. How many times have I revisited this parenting topic? When will I have done it sufficiently and in a healthy way without one ounce of rationalizing? In my head, I know the goal: our kids are not our own; they come from God; they are arrows in our quiver to be sent forth; ours for a time to prepare for independence. Heart knowledge is a different matter.

How many layers must there be to this teary onion? I have released my kids multiple times and in myriad ways, yet still I catch myself with hands grasped figuratively, hanging on with a comment, or controlling through an expectation. Am I hoarding my kids as treasures or sending them out for the glory of God?

I gave Reid the middle name of Samuel knowing full well the story of Hannah's infertility and her bargain with the Lord if He remembered her. Like Sarah, I named Reid Samuel because "I asked the Lord for him." But could I also "give him over to the Lord for his whole life" like she did? Not exactly. I could barely send him to school at age 13, let alone leave him to be raised by priests. I recall a relinquishment prayer exercise embedded in Catherine Marshall's book, Adventures in Prayer? More than once, it has been an issue for me.

Clearly, relinquishment is more a process than an event. At first blush, it sounds like turning someone over to the wolves. As an adoptive mom, it also smacks of the dreaded rejection curse which has deep roots we don't want to dig up (let alone reinforce in anyone's spirit). The nuances of it though, involve trusting people and powers outside myself. As a special needs mom, I have done significant mental wrestling before trusting nursery workers to love my child, Sunday school teachers to accept his quirky behaviors, an audience at Borders to receive his singing well, neighbors to figure out how he's different, playmates to perceive his ill-expressed intentions, teachers to be insightful, wise, and responsive, babysitters to be of good character, even family to expand their minds and hearts. So it is, that relinquishment and trust are inextricably linked.

For Reid to ever have hope of an independent, full life (that remotely resembles his sister's), I have to squelch my own internal control freak and let go of protecting him, speaking for him, answering for him, meeting all his needs. I need to trust numerous others to stand in those gaps. Sounds easy enough but is hard with a child who has unpredictable development and neurology.

During a season of perpetual anguish when I was exhausted and unsure how to help Reid or know what to do next, I sought healing prayer for both of us. I envisioned myself helpless on a shore and described Reid as a boat floundering at sea in high winds, adrift without a rudder at the whim of a raging storm. Truthfully, at that time he had little control over his own body or mind--the embodiment of vestibular anarchy. The answered prayer came not as a solution or reply but as a picture of Jesus with him in the boat. Much like the disciples in Mark 4, Reid was and is and actually will be fine because of that single fact alone. Jesus is with Him. Can I yield to that? Can He be trusted?

Jesus Himself was in the stern, asleep on the cushion; and they woke Him and said to Him, "Teacher, do You not care that we are perishing?" And He got up and rebuked the wind and said to the sea, "Hush, be still." And the wind died down and it became perfectly calm. And He said to them, "Why are you afraid? Do you still have no faith?" Mark 4:37-39

"...the LORD was not in the wind. And after the wind an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire; and after the fire a sound of a gentle blowing. 1 Kings 19

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." Deuteronomy 31:7-9

www.pacificwilderness.com, www.donnan-family.org.uk/mystic_boat.jpg, www.nefsc.noaa.gov/.../violet%20starfish.jpg

"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

Face to Face

Casdok, aka Mother of Shrek, has created a new blog. Faces of Autism is an online photo gallery celebrating individuals on the autism spectrum. Check it out and add yourself, your loved one, or look for Reid! He is indeed, impossible to capture in just one photo but the one I picked does lay claim to his gregarious sociability with strangers and exuberant joy. He loves music and loves the Lord, so that day at the House of Blues' Gospel Brunch put him in his element. No qualms at all about posing with those buxom ladies! Or joining them up on stage for that matter--next time.

Casdok's ever positive and constructive outlook reminds me of the verse Jim and I chose 22 years ago as a reading in our wedding. It is the origin of all positive thinking, self-help strategies that have followed.

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Philippians 4:7-9

The practice of this verse has followed us through life by necessity. It is both fascinating and faith-building to realize how that has happened. We chose the verse at 20-something, completely naive of what particular trials and tribulations would become our life's journey. As if prophesying the twists and turns that would characterize our future, the verse has become a mantra for the ride. God, not limited by time or space, saw fit to give us confirmation and a comforting sense of destiny as we look in hindsight at what we stood for, signed up for, and in fact, what he had in store for us, as a partnership and then as a family. What we could never have anticipated, He knew. And He found a way to speak it to us through His Word in the present then, just as easily as if He had told us, "This verse will come to define you..." or "You're going to need this one." Or "Listen up, I'll give you a little hint."

Here's another example. When attempting to adopt, Jim and I wrote a sort of resume, as was protocol, about us as potential parents. We sent it to hundreds to make our desire known and hopefully meet potential birthmothers. At the bottom of that letter, we added this hopeful verse: "Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine...to him be glory...for ever and ever!" Ephesians 3:19-21

Well....lo and behold, that verse came true literally, when we matched with a birthmother who was expecting twins! He had indeed, done immeasurably more than we had asked! Our thrill at getting the ultimate twofer--a boy and a girl--fueled an adrenaline rush that lasted at least 48 months. That was way beyond our wildest dreams and more than we would ever have dared to even utter aloud. God must have had a little chuckle, when we were printing those cover letters, knowing as He does, all that has ever come before and will ever come to pass.

Do you have a life verse? Is there a verse that follows you in a good or bad way? If not, claim one and see how God will use it in your life.


My heart says of you, "Seek his face!" Your face, LORD, I will seek. Psalm 27:7-9


Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known. 1 Corinthians 13:11-13


The LORD make his face shine upon you and be gracious to you...Numbers 6:24-26