Run to Papa first

Notice the order there?

I hadn't before (and I just blogged about this verse.

Our Wonderful Father comforts us directly. He doesn't hire a counselor, delegate it to mom, or stand at a distance watching through a two-way mirror. He is hands on, demonstrative and effective.

Aware of my tendency to call a girlfriend, my husband or my mom before going to my Abba God, I began a new discipline awhile ago. Before I pick up the phone with a question or quandry, even to share exciting news, I stop myself. Instead, however quickly, I close my eyes and go to God first. I may still call the friend but I am noticing that I hear more from the Lord this way. And find a different, deeper satisfaction in Him.

This intimacy of "throwing myself headlong into His arms--celebrating His rescue" Psalm 13:5 doesn't come easily to someone who grew up without a Father. But it can be learned! Barry Adams Father's Heart materials are a great resource.

"No love of the natural heart is safe unless the human heart has been satisfied by God first." Oswald Chambers

Likewise Beth Moore writes, "No one is more pleasurable to be around than a person who has had her cup filled by the Lord Jesus Christ."

Correlated with Children of Destiny's Turning the Tide! Prayer calendar for April.

As it is in heaven....

The truth doesn't hurt--it does make me cry though. I was surprised this article in the Orange County Register brought me to tears. Usually I don't even click on them; they've become cliche; or I'm calloused, not sure which?

In any case, this time I did and by the paragraph when Mark and Kylie get called into the principal's office, I was all choked up.

We tease my husband, Jim, that he's become so sensitive in his middle age, crying more often at chick flicks or in church. In his own defense, he has a theory that his emotional response is brought on by some pure truth. To experience guileless authenticity in stark contrast to our corrupt world touches a deep place in our hearts. A yearning we all have. Some would say, the Holy Spirit falls when the waterworks begin.

So here's the truth from God's Word that dropped into my head as my heart was poked.

What happened at that OC high school was more than kindness or charity. Kylie's initiative and the response of his peers was a tangible demonstration of God's Kingdom coming to earth as it is in heaven. Do you know--really believe?--that accepting Jesus makes us sons and daughters of the King of Kings! Literally, we are adopted into His family to receive the same inheritance--eternal life plus immeasurable riches and the right to rule.

Unfathomable, until we see it dramatized in a true story like Mark's. Who can grasp...?

Long before he laid down earth's foundations, he had us in mind, had settled on us as the focus of his love, to be made whole and holy by his love. Long, long ago he decided to adopt us into his family through Jesus Christ. (What pleasure he took in planning this!) Ephesians 1

Glory and strength to Christ, who loves us,
who blood-washed our sins from our lives,
Who made us a Kingdom, Priests for his Father,
forever—and yes, he's on his way! Revelation 1:6

Now listen, daughter, don't miss a word:
forget your country, put your home behind you.
Be here—the king is wild for you.
Since he's your lord, adore him. Psalm 45

He said to them, “When you pray, say: “‘Father, hallowed be your name, your Kingdom come. Luke 11:1-3

(I also love it because Facebook is a new, regular part of Reid's Language Arts activities at school--age appropriate and socially relevant. And could there be a better case for inclusion?)

You did click the link and read the article, right?

Top 10 Tuesday

Top 1o Things I am Thankful for this Week

1. a husband who serves (and surfs)

2. a decisive husband

3. a husband who seeks righteousness

4. children who are set apart

5. children who embrace their destiny

6. children who tell me they love me, often

7. friends who hold me accountable

8. friends who pray aloud, face down, and without ceasing

9. friends who text me Scripture

10. Eugene Petersen's translation of The Message

11. a God who reveals Himself to me specifically through rain, numbers, and newspaper headlines

12. a God who makes my enemies a footstool for my feet

Oh, that's twelve.

Hallelujah! I give thanks to God with everything I've got—

Wherever good people gather, and in the congregation.

God's works are so great, worth

A lifetime of study—endless enjoyment! Psalm 111:1

Dancing with Mal

I just finished Emily Colson's book, Dancing with Max. It is a terrific read disclosing her journey getting to know both her dad and her son all at once. Her faith and immense love--themselves gifts from God--are central themes enabling her to appreciate that her son with autism is a gift. Her masterful writing and disarming humor refresh the familiar story line of diagnosis to acceptance. I could particularly relate (as in, laugh outloud) to this excerpt:

Max had an appointment with a doctor who specialized in integrative medicine. He wasn't one of those crystal-worshiping, incense-burning practitioners, but a rather sophisticated doctor utilizing both alternative and conventional practices... He needed Max's treatment history, and of course, in the process, he would realize I was not neglectful crackhead parent, but a serious overachiever-type mom. The cross hanging around my neck would speak of my faith, my commitment, my clean lifestyle. I even found a way to tell him that I'd spoken at several area conferences, just in case he might need such a service. All those years as a graphic designer creating corporate identities taught me the power of communicating the right image. I pictured this doctor eventually inviting us into his home, telling me secret cures for autism, while he stood at his kitchen counter mixing Chinese mushroom powder into wheat grass. And he would realize that helping Max, the innocent child of a loving Christian and by-no-possible-fault-of-her-own single mother, was his life's mission.

"Does he have any language?" the doctor asked as Max sat silently outside the door.

"Oh, yes. It doesn't come easily, but he uses full sentences now," I answered.

He fired off a list of questions about sleep habits, diet, digestion, but kept coming back to the issue of language. "You said he does speak, is that correct? He's right outside my office door, and . . . I don't think I've heard him say anything."

"Yes, he's just very anxious here," I explained as if we were colleagues.

Our appointment was nearing an end, and I was pleased at the doctor's willingness to order numerous laboratory tests. "Could your son come in so that I could talk with him a bit? Would

he do that?" he asked.

"Maybe," I answered. "Max," I called as I looked into the hall. "Can you come sit with Mommy for a minute? Then we'll be all done and do something fun." Max stood up as if he always followed my requests and entered the examination room. The doctor greeted him, but Max brushed past his desk and stood silently at the window gazing out over the Cambridge neighborhood. "Good job Max," I proudly commended. "We're going to do something fun next."

And then it happened. My son must have a locator device implanted in his brain, because it only took him two seconds to see into a storefront window on the street below that obviously had commercial refrigerators. And with that motivation, my son spoke his first, and what would be his only, words for the doctor to hear.

"Mom, after this we can go to the liquor store."

Delighted at the prospect, Max walked out and sat beside my mother, who looks as much like an alcoholic as Mary Poppins.

The doctor's eyes shone on me like headlights. I was so busy being perfect that I forgot to laugh. The more I tried to explain, the worse it looked; he wasn't buying the whole refrigerator-obsession thing.

She has been there! I have been there. She has been where I have been! Thank you Lord that you do whatever it takes to free us from a spirit of pride.

It happens bit by bit--like becoming real. Reid, like Max, has taught his mom many things, not the least of which is to recognize embarrassment as the indicator light of pride. Having a son with absolutely no social inhibition continues to set me free from a fear of man.

Allie too. Just last week, she recalled sitting in a theater dying a thousand deaths because her brother was "so embarrassing." "What was he doing?" I'd forgotten. "Being overly happy," was her description. Is that such a crime? It's exactly what he does though. He expresses uncontainable joy so much so that it's socially unacceptable.

Even when he was a toddler, I found it hard to correct him for being too gleeful during library storytime, too excited to meet Mary Poppins at Disneyland, or euphoric when Souplantation had Barney bean salad (our term, not theirs) in the buffet smorgasbord. Gradually (unable to control or contain it), I've come to realize that it is more my problem than his. He embodies joy. That is a gift to those who receive it. And if it bothers someone on the way, that is their problem.

Now only a vestige of my pride remains. I recognize it in this clip of Reid cutting loose at a recent Banding Together coffeehouse concert. He's the one--the only one--on the dance floor doing aerial 360's. I am one feigning nonchalance in the black and white raincoat. Who's the woman dancing with him unabashedly? That is Malvina. Thank you Lord for friends who have more love than pride . . . who dole it out liberally all over everybody . . . who don't squelch his exuberance. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em.

Gladness and joy will overtake them, and sorrow and sighing will flee away. Isaiah 35:9-10

The LORD is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and he helps me. My heart leaps for joy, and with my song I praise him. Psalm 28:6-8

Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins. 1 Peter 4:7-9

Grateful for Surround Sound

Every single morning these ladies bless me: Elvira and Nancy, bus drivers extraordinaire. Long time readers will remember God's grace and provision in the first bus drivers I ever trusted. Same Nancy, new sidekick. She has circulated back to our route and brought Elvira along to harmonize.

What is it about these two? They may not win any awards for the song writing jingle, but they make my day! Everyday. Full of love, they spill it all over Reid with this customized cheer when he boards the bus. It began as a reward for being ready and waiting "on the step" at 6:55am. Honestly, now I think they do it whether he's late or not. What is it about Reid? He brings out the best in people.

These ladies go above and beyond driving safely. They drive sweetly. Now that the ready-on-time goal has been 90% accomplished, they are onto a wave-to-mom maneuver. She actually honked at me last week when I missed my cue. (It takes two, ya' know.) After my end of the waving ritual is complete with my blessing spoken outloud, I shut the door to peace and quiet knowing my guy is in good hands. I breathe easy knowing they genuinely care. Daily, they give me that gift of peace of mind.

Love my son, love me. Is it not true for all parents? The quickest way to our hearts is to show authentic, pure, agape love toward our offspring. Don't give me a thing; you don't even have to give me the time of day. Just invest in my kid and you've won me for life.

Churches know this; thriving children's ministry is the key to growing a congregation. A ministry I admire, Southeast Asia Prayer Center takes it to the mountains and disciples whole villages in Tibet after giving heart surgery to kids.

Afterall, it's the heart of God the Father. He says, love my one and only Son, Jesus, and you love me. He wants nothing more.

Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. John 14:5-7

Jesus replied, “Anyone who loves me will obey my teaching. My Father will love them, and we will come to them and make our home with them. John 14:22-24

Whoever has my commands and keeps them is the one who loves me. The one who loves me will be loved by my Father, and I too will love them and show myself to them.” John 14:20-22

February Podcast: Paula Dawson

Paula is a woman who gives real meaning to the word, sweet. She is kind to the marrow.

Here's a glimpse of her last Friday winning a night out at a happening local nightclub. (who knew?) Spending time with Paula makes me feel like the lucky winner.

On Monday nights, she is found fully engaged in the waiting room at the Music Therapy Center of California. Our own permutation of a support group has resulted from our boys being in The Kingsmen band together. While they rehearse, we (four moms and grandma) talk. It's a sacred time. Paula listens and speaks with style, grace and humor. Never flustered, quick to laugh, always willing to help, Paula is a balm in Gilead.

I consider her an inspiration to the autism community. Last night she was gracious enough to let me ask her a couple questions while recording:

Click Autism Unplugged Paula Dawson.mp3 or the play button below.

I always wanted to do a photo montage of Conor in the famous Fantasia pose we mentioned. His bravado thrills me at every performance.

January Podcast: "Is it too much to ask?" with Sandi Anderson

Da da da da da da da! Drum roll please....

I'd like to present a new monthly feature: a brief on-the-street interview with someone I consider an inspiration in the autism community.

Miss January is Sandi Anderson, resource person extraordinaire!

Sandi and I share the same maiden name, faith in the same God, the same history of homeschooling, the same stubborn insistence on our kids' potential, and the same invisible tattoo. She is creative beyond all get out, resourceful, humble, accessible, and helpful. She has mentored countless moms-turned-professional-through-autism in San Diego county. If they don't know her, they know of her (and wish they did).

I first knew "of her" and was thrilled when she invited me to plan the Concert of Prayer for Special Needs in San Diego County. Now, I am honored to call her a friend. She has an idea a minute and is the one I call when I'm stuck or circling. I always hang up with a genius next step that feels easy to take.

Sandi repeatedly finds a way where none exists, whether to get Regional Center and the Dept of Rehab to fund a self-determination grant for her 21 year old son to have his own business or take the other to swim with dolphins in Hawaii. She is also hilarious! She was in usual jesting form, as we met for lunch at Rubio's to tape this. After she heard my line of questioning, she first asked how much I was paying her ($.00). Then, shot out a title for the new blog feature, "Is it too much to ask?" We all need a friend who makes us laugh.

In this picture, she is "tooting her own horn" at the Autism Tree Project Foundation's USD Football Mentor game day. Enjoy meeting her yourself on this audio podcast:Sandi Anderson.aiff

Note to Facebook readers: Click "View Original Post" to access the mp3 player.)

Documenting Miracles

God is always answering prayer. If we are alert, acknowledge it and mark it down, we remember. If not, the results can be as fleeting as a spring zephyr. More than anything, I hope this blog chronicles what God is doing in Reid's life, ours, and others' around him as we journey through autism to the promised land.

Truly in the last few weeks, there is more happening than I have time to articulate. Our cups are overflowing with every imaginable flavor and scent of His presence. I long to turn the winsome face to face praise reports I give my Bible study girls from vapor into lasting ebenezers of His power and faithfulness. December is a swirl of goodness.

The school psychologist at Reid's school helped me out this time. He sent this email last week titled, "Prepare to Hit PRINT." It made our year! (names changed for privacy)

Greetings. I was on campus today doing some research with 4 different students. One of those was Reid and he is doing an outstanding job maintaining his attention and responding to different stimuli.

The more notable thing today was something that occurred during lunch. Another student, Billy, one Pioneer's more noisy students, was not in the best of spirits today. While eating his lunch in the cafeteria Billy would randomly shout and scream out loud, crying, covering his ears with his hands. It was pretty rough for everyone else in the room; Billy had been occasionally going off like this for over 2 hours.

Well, the various students in the room slowly started to filter out. Some had finished their lunches, others were moving away from Billy. After about 5 minutes into this one particular scream session over half a dozen students had left. Billy was the only one left at his table.

At that point, Reid slowly got up from where he was sitting. I was watching him; Reid tends not to to break down any further when other Pioneer students are having a rough time. In this case Reid sat down right next to Billy. Billy was yelling, then quiet, then yelling, putting his hands on his head, waving them in the air. Reid sat on Billy's left, and ate his lunch. He didn't move. Occasionally he would look at Billy, then at the table.

Well, Billy slowly started to calm down. First the hands stopped waving, then the voice got more quiet. Billy started to eat his food. He even reached in his lunch pack and pulled some other things out. After about 120 seconds he and Reid were sitting there together in silence.

Then, Reid left. He stood up, first pulled his right, then left foot over the bench of the "table," gathered his empty plate and cup, and headed to the door. All the other students were outside at this point, playing. No doubt Reid was heading to the couch in the courtyard where he likes to soak up the sun. I approached him as he got to the door.

"Reid," I asked. "Why did you do that?"

He looked at me for a moment, then at the floor. "Billy needed it," he said. Then he walked out.

I went over and sat next to Billy myself.

Cheers, Jake

Flooding my mind after I absorbed this, were verses I'd prayed in years prior all coming to fruition in seemingly a single stroke. The fullness of time. This boy, my boy, over whom I've prayed believing prayers that:

...he would grow in wisdom, favor and stature with God and man...

...that the Spirit of the Lord would be upon Him, a spirit of Wisdom and understanding, counsel and power, knowledge and the fear of the Lord...

...that he would be filled with the Holy Spirit...love, joy, peace, patience, goodness, kindness, faithfulness, and self-control (ohhh self-control)...

...that his little light would shine....

...that God would bless him indeed as he had Jabez, enlarge his territory and keep him from evil...

Lo and behold, He did, He had, and He was.

This joyful boy whose hands and head we've anointed with oil and Psalm 23 this month, is not only maintaining his own self-control but also coming alongside others to offer the ministry of presence.

How tender the heart of God to provide me with a detailed, objective glimpse through the keyhole to see the evidence of prayers He is answering.

The celebration widened as Jim shared with our church small group who had trudged the pits of April with us. Equally agog, they chimed in:

Tears….sitting on an airplane back from DC with a stranger next to me wondering what the heck is going on…it’s a family of Christ thing

Killer story…..i can say that reid has a similar effect on me when I hear him chanting in the background at our study. His presence and comments are one of the things that make the Moriarty house a home

Oh my. Joy. "...i think i'm feeling that feeling again..."

Goosebumps. And from Allie, "this is the kind of thing you hear about happening to other people, but not to us."

For this, I can honestly say, it's been worth the wait.

Top 10 Tuesday

Top 1o Things I Miss about the Midwest

10. Tree farms

9. Winter wonderland

8. Incredible neighbors with no fences

7. Acreage

6. Pick ur own fruit

5. Family within driving distance

4. Pedestrian towns

3. Friendly, open people

2. The work ethic

1. The nip in the air

...polo field, gazebo, river, fall foliage, sweater weather, the list goes on of memories from my childhood in the Chagrin River Valley of suburban Cleveland, Ohio. It's not just Ohio though. A similar list could be inspired by Wisconsin where I went to college or the year we lived in suburban Chicago...climbing trees, small town parades, community pools, chatting over the driveway...

It happens 9 times out of ten when I meet someone I like. We connect at some core level. Inevitably, they are from Kansas, Minnesota, Michigan. All I can say is, "I knew it! Figures." The commonality defies description. We're like pieces of eggshell adhering to itself. Same dye lot.

Most recently, we were at the Belly Up, nicest venue west of the Rathskellar. A new colleague of Kat's at Lululemon Athletica, Chelsea, went to UW-Madison, my alma mater. That was coincidence enough. As we got talking about dorms we'd lived in and how campus has changed, guess what? She lived in a sorority house, which one? Alph Chi! No way! We only momentarily disrupted the peace with our shock and gleeful outburst! We were sisters! Alpha Chi's from the same campus having had neighboring rooms in the same house. Serendipity.

Provision

When I say provision do you think of food? Ordinarily I would too, though "I'm not a big eater." Ha!

However, let me go on record as saying there are more important provisions than food. When I look back at our journey through autism thus far, there are some pivotal people who the Lord has provided for us at just the right time in truly miraculous ways.

Danielle, was the first case manager for Reid's home program. She became way more than that, like a counselor and trusted advisor. What amazes me still is how we had met in Bay Area through an early mentor mom to me, Irma Velasquez (she has since started Wings Learning Center). Reid had had a facilitated playdate with her son, Aaron, which Danielle facilitated. We connected on some gut level and remembered each other. In less than a year's time, we both were planning a move back to San Diego. Danielle confided that she might also be relocating to work at the UCSD Autism lab.

Timely enough, we had a shoe-in for our home program --someone I already trusted fully. Unbeknownst to me at the time, Danielle had gone to our church as a college student. Our shared faith further bonded us and blurred the lines of professionalism. Suffice it to say, I was very comfortable with her in the house training our team and spending long hours with Reid. We cried when she left at the acknowledgment of God providing exactly what we needed in those early days.

Carla, was part of the glory days on Danielle's team. We hired her with the same gut feeling that she'd just plain be good. A Canadian expat, she worked part-time as a guidance assistant in our local district. Little did we know what mysterious ways the Lord was working in then. I will never forget the first time Carla and Reid came into the kitchen after their closed-door play session. They were singing little Sunday school praise songs, which were Reid's only words at the time. I was flabbergasted to see that Carla knew them! God had provided.

We cried when she drove off for Florida in that orange Penske truck, not knowing that she'd be back. The amazing recurrent blessing of Carla is that she moved back for another year under very different circumstances for a Masters in Real Estate. The gift of that year was for me as much as Reid. It marked a million milestones in both our lives and moved me forward in writing, mothering, and sisterhood, for that is what we've become.

Kathryn Mary, cousin Kat, has been a similar kind of gift these past 5 months. She has been friend, confidante, family member, sous chef, and breath of fresh air to all of us. For such a time as this, she has helped us shift our focus to Allie's imminent college decision; she offered a naturally occurring novelty of socialization for Reid; and without realizing it helped us raise the bar on many habits--whether wearing pajamas, shutting the bathroom door, or flossing more often. She left a week ago and we cried then too.

As I near the completion of Kelly Langston's Authentic Christianity Challenge, I think being authentic is acknowledging that the best things in life come from Him. In so doing, I also project that what He's done before, He will do again. The Lord will provide.

Who or what has God given you that you couldn't have arranged yourself?

Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows. James 1:16-18

So then, don't be afraid. I will provide for you and your children." And he reassured them and spoke kindly to them. Genesis 50:20-22

And who knows but that you have come to royal position for such a time as this?" Esther 4:13-15

Thankful for Friends who Really Pray

This arrived from a friend and it makes me so thankful to be covered. I am grateful for this friend who puts her email where her mouth is and sends words to me that bless, that are a salve, and that release God's power.

I pray it aloud for my readers who face similar challenges. Like me, you may be weary of the journey. Like our kids, you may struggle to express your "wants and needs."

Lord, I at this moment I ask that you bring shalom - comprehensive
wellbeing, love, peace, calm, integrity - to flood my reader and her world.

I ask that you bring shalom to every cell of their child's body, to each membrane
where cell touches cell and to everywhere that chemicals and
neuroelectrical charges flow.

I ask that you bring shalom to every member of their extended families,
to each place where life touches life, and to everywhere that voice and
feelings flow.

I ask that you bring shalom to every room of their home, to each wall
and hall and doorway where space touches space and to everywhere that
energy, events, and family flow.

I ask that you bring shalom to every day in the coming week, to everywhere
that hour touches hour, day touches day and everywhere that time and
planning and intention flow.

I know that you hear me. I know that you love them. I

claim even now, at this moment, you are sending your shalom, your deep
comprehensive peace within, before, behind, between - cells, people,
rooms, hours, events, and days.

Thank you for being able. Thank you for being willing. Thank you for
being. Amen.

Better Living thru Chemistry...ha!

Ten months ago I almost wrote a post (at the suggestion of a puffed up psychiatrist in a fallen economy) portraying Reid as the poster child for the benefits of Abilify. Overnight, it seemed last December, the amp was turned down on his rage. His ability could shine without the glare of interruption or explosion. Suddenly, there was a filter on his impulses and reactions. I totally understood how they had named this product.

The dramatic change was epitomized by his entrance on the morning bus. He walked slowly down our brick walk, stepped lightly into the bus, said "good morning" in a regular voice, and calmly took his assigned seat. I wish I had a picture of what could only have been captured previously on video. Lightning fast, he had been in the habit of bolting out the door, storming the still moving vehicle, darting to his seat nearly decapitating anything in the path of the swinging backpack on his shoulder, then plopping down with a dramatic thud.

This new, slower, calmer demeanor came as a great relief to our household. I realized one morning how significantly the "right med" could impact him socially as well as improve others' perception of him. No longer did peers have to duck and cover when they saw him coming. This would certainly foster conversation and friendship. And it did for 10 months. I was celebrating with friends, family, and pharmacists all over town.

BUT, we just reached the end of our Abilify rope. Agitation, obsession, and perseveration at an all time high, I pulled the plug after a sleepless, prayerful night last Saturday deciding cold turkey was the way to go. There was no denying the tense stuck-ness and resulting mania was chemically induced, debilitating, and as bad if not worse than the pre-Abilify symptoms we were supposed to be addressing.

Drugs are serious folks, not to be reckoned with lightly. Allie had an annoying, persistent bug last week. In desperation facing some mandatory commitments she couldn't shirk, we visited the on-call Saturday doc at the medical center we don't frequent. He non-chalantly prescribed doxycycline for what he presumed was walking pneumonia. Less than 48 hours later she could not breath or eat and was clinging to me in fear at bedtime. "I feel worse, Mom, don't leave," she cried. Calling Jim in to hold her hand, I quickly google searched an explanation. She was suffering from notorious allergic reactions and/or side effects to the drug itself. Not prone to rush to the hospital, we rode it out by pumping tons of water and running instead to our chiropractor nutritionist the next morning.

She is on the mend after he adjusted her hiatal hernia and prescribed two nutritional supplements to restore the healthy flora in her intestinal track. Allie learned an important lesson in comparing health care modalities and avoiding use of controlled substances.

I stand assured that my previous caution remains the way to go. During the Abilify-honeymoon, I nearly apologized to the docs (and Reid) for waiting so long to medicate. We were slow to try anything, preferring to exhaust the natural alternatives of the DAN! protocol, the Pfeiffer Clinic, osteopathy, solid nutrition supplements, fish oil, and any other non-invasive option that came our way.

We eventually did trials of at least five indicated drugs only to experience adverse effects. Hives, vomiting, and face-down distress on manhole covers at recess convinced us to halt and fast. Every med undeniably complicated matters and added more variables to the equation. Until Abilify. It seemed to be the magic bullet. But no. Woe, there is no such thing.

"Life is a long process," as Jim says. We forage on in search of workable solutions for the chapter at hand. As my dear friend, Carolyn, pointed out to me years ago over another matter, God often tells us just one step at a time. When his directions seem counter-intuitive it doesn't mean we heard them wrong. He just tends to keep us attentive, flexible, nimble and never idle.

Case in point, when God told Abraham to sacrifice Isaac, He meant it. As bizarre and horrifying as it was, Abraham complied. Then at the top of the hill, at the eleventh hour, God provided a ram in the thicket, telling Abraham to unbind poor Isaac. He meant that too. Abraham heard and obeyed both times. What if he had only listened the first time? What if he'd stubbornly refused the second time sticking to his guns saying, "No, I won't untie Isaac, I was told to sacrifice him and I will no matter what."

Many things don't make sense to me. Maybe that is why I'm quoting platitudes. My mom is known to say, "we walk in the light that we have." At any given time, we pray, listen, and follow. Abilify was then. This is now. I don't look back with regret but with gratitude for lessons learned and the process of elimination.

Switching doctors once again, I am getting the lay of the chemical landscape. Hope remains that this new doctor's old school approach (with drugs that have been around longer) will yield benefits that can be sustained. I am forever on my knees listening and always on the lookout for a substitute in the bushes.

You know I'll keep you posted.

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven Ecclesiastes 3:1-3

So Abraham called that place The LORD will provide. And to this day it is said, "On the mountain of the LORD it will be provided." Genesis 22:13-15

Because of your great compassion you did not abandon them in the desert. By day the pillar of cloud did not cease to guide them on their path, nor the pillar of fire by night to shine on the way they were to take. You gave your good Spirit to instruct them Nehemiah 9:19-21

Introducing.....Top 10 Tuesday!

Reid has a precious few friends. One of them is the youth pastor at our church. He'd like to have a playdate with Billy Jack, or a sleepover. I am hard pressed almost every Sunday to explain, "we can't really do that." "But, why not?" he implores." "Billy Jack is a good man." Social mores, fooey?!!?! You try to explain the invisible hidden fabric of our society.

Perhaps one reason Reid is so enamored with this pastor in particular, is a command performance he gives every May. Billy Jack runs up the center aisle of our church as if into the end zone to deliver the "Top 10 Reasons to Volunteer at Kids Games."

KidsGames, is a much modernized version of Vacation Bible School, requiring record numbers of adults to staff. In order to pull it off, Billy Jack must start early, make a big splash, and get everyone's attention. Reid absolutely LOVES the fanfare! (The actual week of KidsGames has long been too much commotion for his central nervous system, but he eagerly awaits the 2 minute simulation of its rollicking antics.)

It can be the middle of December and he will ask an unsuspecting Billy Jack on the patio, "when will you do the announcement?" He doesn't want to miss that Sunday...nor does he want to be caught off guard.

Maybe this is why his arrival routine (after high fiving Billy Jack) is to rush up the stairs to the ushers' pew, grab a program and immediately check who's on the docket. Is he checking who's preaching? What songs we'll sing? Or whether it is time for the Top Ten List? All of the above, I'm sure.

In that spirit of anticipation, I am instituting "Top 10 Tuesday" as a place to vent some items that have been accumulating in my mind. Jim reminds me that means 52 lists a year. I may have to ask for a little help along the way.

Tune in next Tuesday for "Top 10 Reasons to Look for a New Doctor"

OR

Leave me a comment suggesting a "Top 10 List" you'd like to see.

A Friend Indeed

What a glorious sunny day in December! I had time to breathe while I waited for a friend. A dear, dear friend I rarely get to see anymore. We were condo neighbors, then prayer partners when I first moved to California 17 years ago. Neither of us had children, and she not a husband at the time. The combined weekly prayers of our trio (a third neighbor joined us) covered the full circle of female experience. Representing a lifespan between us, we prayed each other through some heart-wrenching transitions from single-hood to marriage and infertility to menopause. As time has rolled on, we've traded places and themes until now, lo and behold the daughters we prayed into existence are approaching the age we were when we met (almost)! Cue the Circle of Life song from Lion King.

It was Carolyn who changed my prayer for a baby from a request to an intercession. She aptly foresaw that the baby we were hoping to adopt was likely already conceived and growing in someone's belly. It was Carolyn who called me when she went into labor to cue me to my knees-- and again just an hour later to say her baby girl had arrived! Suffice it to say, walking with her stirs a lot of memories. It has been years since we've had more than 5 minutes on the church patio and as many as 6 other ears listening to all we confide.

Carolyn's the kind of friend I can (and do) call for a ride to the airport at any ungodly hour or from the dark roadside alley 40 minutes from home where AAA left me stranded with 2 kids recently or when I'm desperate to keep an invitation to a dinner dance and can't find a babysitter for my "spirited" child. I know she'd do anything for me...and vice versa.

Now that you know I love her, I must also tell you she typically runs a little late. So, I had some time by myself at the beach as I waited to relish this annual-at-best beachwalk we had managed to schedule. Twenty minutes later strolling up the serendipitously low tide, I realized I was 5 blocks north of where we'd agreed to meet! Oops. No matter, ours is a totally forgiving friendship too. By the time we recognized each other waving in the misty distance, I had found 2 sand dollars and heard the Lord speak volumes.

Like a trusty hearing aid, when Carolyn is around--or even approaching me from afar--I seem to hear better. Hearing the Lord doesn't happen a lot for me in this manner. Sure, when I am in His Word I hear principles and application. Far less common though is alone time when I feel His thoughts virtually drop into my mind. Usually when I walk with a friend, we are talking. While highly pleasurable and beneficial, our chatter makes it impossible to hear any other voices, especially that stillest, small voice of all. So, this day in addition to the extraordinary visit with Carolyn, I received the elusive gift of silence with God...and a tangible token from the sea.

I'm quite sure I began praying for a friend for Reid when he was about 2 (it's recorded in an old prayer journal). That prayer request is one I've reiterated, re-used, thrown out, and recycled in turns with great angst, acquiescence, acceptance, and assertion. Just recently, 12 years hence, I see stirrings of an affirmative answer as Reid talks about 2 boys on his bus route. It used to be, I was organizing facilitated play groups, recruiting typically developing peers from church, or negotiating the parameters of a playdate to ensure it's success. How refreshingly different to now be sitting back and merely asking, "Do you want to take an extra cookie for Billy?" Or coaching Reid on how to ask Aaron for his phone number so we can call his house. How much better to have the desire come from within rather than be imposed upon. How spontaneous and better than what I ever asked or imagined.

The Lord does answer prayer...all in His good timing. So, I continue to pray that one day Reid will have a friend like Jonathon was to David; a friend like Carolyn is to me; a friend who sticks closer than peanut butter, to quote one of our favorite Steve Green Hide 'em in Your Heart scripture memory songs! And...I continue to believe he will.

I am a sucker for children's choirs and this one does my heart good in their rendition of the irresistible old favorite, What a Friend we Have in Jesus.

"Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends. You are my friends if you do what I command. I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master's business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you." John 15:13-17

"Jonathan said to David, "Go in peace, for we have sworn friendship with each other in the name of the LORD, saying, 'The LORD is witness between you and me, and between your descendants and my descendants forever.' ! Samuel 20:42

"Abraham believed God, and it was credited to him as righteousness," and he was called God's friend. James 2:22-24

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Elf on the Spectrum

Elf is a favorite movie of ours this time of year. It's not about the real reason for Christmas--which I usually prefer--but it does tap into two of my special interests: adoption and autism.

Buddy crawls into Santa's bag at an orphanage and ends up being raised by a very fatherly elf played by Bob Newhart. His dad honorably encourages when he wants to search for his birthparents in New York City...and is there for him when he returns.

I get a kick out of Buddy, the elf, who has to learn the ways of what seems like a different planet. When he arrives in New York City, he has much to learn. Despite the warnings from his adoptive father that gum on the street is not free candy, he enjoys it all. How is he to know that waving people are hailing cabs not being friendly and the "world's best cup of coffee" is merely an overused idiom. Oh, how Carol Gray's Social Stories would help him or Michelle Garcia Winner's You are a Social Detective book or a book on idioms!

Like those articulate adults on the autism spectrum who liken their experience to being anthropologists from Mars or citizens on the Wrong Planet, Buddy will have to study hard and have many tutors before he can even pretend to be "normal" or fit in. Innately, he is not at all bad though. Actually, his honesty and sweetness are refreshing to some. His idiosyncracies makes him vulnerable though, to others and are a social obstacle to overcome.

Countless moments come to mind when Reid has done quirky and "socially inappropriate things" (that's how you get the diagnosis, after all). Depending on your prerogative the things on that list can range from being appalling to endearing. I am the first to correct him, sometimes. Other times, I like to enjoy the luxury and gift of sitting back and purely accepting, appreciating the unique creation that he is, his magnificent mind, and his own perspective on the world.

I recall once during a church service when he was giggling, flirting, and practically dancing with the woman behind us. She is now a friend who I know, trust, and love but, at the time I hadn't met her. Feeling responsible to uphold his "program goals" and maintain the decorum of the service, I kept shushing him and using those not-so-magic words like, "quiet voice," "eyes in front," and who knows what else. Their shenanigans continued. Clearly, both were enjoying the interaction. This animated woman was instigating him not to mention distracting from my effort. I was torn between the two sides of my love. The soft side wanting to encourage their soul connection and get her phone number; the hard side towing the line on behavioral reinforcement.

These are the kind of internal dilemmas that give me neck pain. He really wasn't doing anything morally wrong. In fact, one could argue he was setting a better example than others of hospitality and worship by giving his whole self in the moment. What's a mom to do? Love unconditionally or train toward independence? Both, in turns I suppose.

Maybe this Christmas for just a day or even a hour, while school is out and no one's looking, let's let our kids be who they are without any correction. Let them refresh our perspective on the planet and the kingdom.



I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it." Mark 10:14-16


Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it. Hebrews 13:1-3



They are focused on earthly things, but our citizenship is in heaven, from which we also eagerly wait for a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ. Philippians 3:20

A Friend In Deed

I have been reading Tim McGinnis' StrengthsFinder blog and happened upon this Trombone Player Wanted film series. Marcus Buckingham creatively makes his point with a boy in the school band who is a natural percussionist but has been told to play trombone. Let this whet your appetite.




If kids instinctively know their strengths, then our role as parents is to enhance their pursuit of them. It may save their lives either literally or figuratively (keep reading about Nathaniel Ayers). Kids with autism, and reams of paperwork outlining their deficits (otherwise known as IEP's) and obstacles stacked against them, desperately need our support to affirm and articulate their strengths. Arguably, it will cost them more than the "normal" population to be settle for mediocrity or be misguided.

In an odd coincidence, another performance at the Walt Disney Performing Arts Center is pivotal in Steve Lopez' true story, The Soloist. His arduous friendship with a destitute homeless man moves him from being marginalized to heroic. Lopez unlocks this man's potential using his obsession with music as the key. I'll show you this trailer if you promise to read the book first.



John Donne said, no man is an island. As an introvert, I sometimes prefer being alone. During stressors in my life, including Reid's diagnosis, my tendency is to pull inward, resign, recoil, resist. (Recall the funny scene in Father of the Bride with Steve Martin and the guard dogs?) That retreat only serves me so long. After a certain point, it is not beneficial to be alone. I need others to pull me out of my own quandry and keep me moving. So, it is easy to understand how Nathaniel Ayers, after his mother's death, basically lost his marbles.

When I see homeless people, I almost always think of the words of John Bradford (and my grandmother) who said, "There, but for the grace of God, go I." Knowing all the pieces that fit together for Reid to appear and behave as a functioning member of society, I can quickly imagine him (or any of us) in their shoes were the scaffolding to come down. What would it take for your life to come apart at the seams? A couple of "biggies"--loss of a job, the economy failing, death of a provider, hurricane, illness, a move--and any of us could be on the street needing a friend like Steve Lopez.



A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for adversity. Proverbs 17:16-18


Wealth brings many friends, but a poor man's friend deserts him. Proverbs 19:3-5


A man of many companions may come to ruin, but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother. Proverbs 18:23-24


The LORD would speak to Moses face to face, as a man speaks with his friend. Then Moses would return to the camp... Exodus 33:10-12