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?

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

Rescued!

Have you seen Walter and Christopher Marino in the news by now? This unbelievable story of a father and son drifting out to sea for some 12 hours and surviving to tell about it brings many things to mind for me: Reid's love of water; the therapeutic value of water; the false sensation of comfort that floating offers; the benefits of knowing what motivates your kids; the power of staying engaged with them through thick and thin; the absolute might of the ocean; the uncertainty of life; the redeeming value of movie scripts; the universal will to live; and of course above all, God's sovereignty.

It to me seems that our kids have swarms of guardian angels hovering around them. I know Reid has darted through some gnarly encounters unscathed. Thus far, the Lord has honored my regular prayer that Reid would have a hedge of protection around him. Since they were babies, both my kids have had a small, plaster angel cherub hanging over their bedroom door from a ribbon. On the ribbon is handwritten the "911" code verse, "For He will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways." Psalm 91:11

Enough harrowing experiences have brought me coronary distress, that people now quizzically wonder how I appear so calm. "Practice," I say without eye contact, for I have not the luxury. My eyes are always on the make for my flitting butterfly who has not yet been stung by near misses either crossing a street or riding a bike( in the center lane up to our pool in stubborn refusal to ride single file along the curb). Lost at Target; lost in the neighborhood; lost in the local county park; lost at the Tate Museum in London, Reid is found every time but, not always in short order. My knee jerk reaction now is to pray and to enlist Allie. She or I always find him. Even when we alert the authorities, it is usually her sixth sense that reveals his mystery location. And usually there is a logical explanation which we decipher after the fact when my blood pressure returns to its normal low.

The most frightening situation to date was this summer in Cape Hatteras when Reid opened a moving car door and bolted across Hwy 12, an infamous single lane freeway, in an irrational tirade. How he did not get creamed into the concrete I will never be able to explain outside of God's grace.

Watching the Marino family interviewed brings tears to my eyes, tears of recognition and empathy for the complexity of their emotions and their daily reality. Siblings rock. Good for his sister, Angela, for knowing when to call the earthly 911. Good for the insightful anchorman for crediting her and using people-first language addressing Christopher by name.

Living near the ocean makes me acutely aware of its beauty and its danger. The ocean is so like its Creator. I love the ocean. And I fear the ocean. I am in awe of the ocean. Those are concrete realities. In a similar way, I love and "fear of the Lord." Just this past summer, I was momentarily caught in a riptide and surprised by how quickly I panicked. A week later, an avid boogie boarding friend of mine had to be rescued by a lifeguard in front of her 2 teenage daughters. In addition to being embarrassed, she was really frightened. Afterward, we commiserated over all that flashes before your eyes in a moment "at sea." I cannot begin to imagine the hours at sea that the Marino's endured.

I am also touched by the dad's flood of gratitude. Do we express equivalent joy and exuberance on Easter morning (or daily, for that matter) at the promise of being rescued from eternal death? One day we will know exactly how he felt. Jesus, not the Coast Guard, saves us all from the clutch of death.



That if you confess with your mouth, "Jesus is Lord," and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. Romans 10:8-10

"Because he loves me," says the LORD, "I will rescue him; I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name. Psalm 91:13-15

Reach down your hand from on high; deliver me and rescue me from the mighty waters, from the hands of foreigners. Psalm 144:6-8

From six calamities he will rescue you; in seven no harm will befall you. Job 5:19

The angel of the LORD encamps around those who fear him, and he delivers them. Psalm 34:6-8

photo credit: www.scienceimage.csiro.au/mediarelease/images/open_sea_sm.jpg, wwwcache.wral.com

Way Back When

Autism is everywhere isn't it? I almost feel trendy having it in our family. McCain's talking about it; Obama's talking about it; Hilary's talked about it; it's been on the cover of every major news magazine more than once. Perhaps we have Autism Speaks to thank for that. NPR has a score of radio shows on the topic. Just in the This I Believe syndicate show there are 19 essays that relate to autism. I am working my way through them all. And who can even count the number of autism bloggers of every color and creed?

This was not always so. When Reid was first diagnosed (1997) I called Focus on the Family, the revered support organization for Christian families. One of the most isolating moments in our journey was their lack of awareness and total dearth of resources on autism. They have since added one book by Lynn Hamilton...albeit with a disclaimer. Eleven years ago the enemy used it to make me feel as though Christian families don't experience disability which is totally false! In fact, this blog is a culminating result of that alienation and my attempt to make better (and not be bitter) the Christian community's response to what God has allowed in our life. We need help from within to address the needs of families with autism who are attempting to apply Scripture and Biblical principles to the particular life trial that autism can be. Just as much as politics, sex, and the environment, autism should not silence the church.

"I ask you to receive her in the Lord in a way worthy of the saints and to give her any help she may need from you..." Romans 16:1-3

"...though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed." 1 Peter 1:5-7

“Even to your old age and gray hairs I am he, I am he who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you.” Isaiah 46:4

Where There's a Will, There's a Way...to College

Joining the ranks of college graduates this past June was Erik Weber. With the vision, determination, and support of his mother, Sandy, Erik made a way for himself at Grossmont College in San Diego. In his own pace and with some accommodations, he did it! Worth celebrating ! And repeating! Read all about it here.

His success story strikes a familiar chord in three aspects I notice consistently: 1. his mother's never-say-never, find-a-way attitude; 2. Erik's acceptance of gradual and steady progress; and 3. their capitalizing on his special interests.

In a related post, Bev at Asperger Square 8 points to an article by a caring and perceptive college professor about his experience with a student named Fred. Quickly, Stephen Yoder comes to realize that Fred must have Aspergers. It is another great success story, albeit fragile. At the end of the piece he offers a list of lessons learned about Fred and another list about the teacher, including this:

If the incidence of autism is indeed rising, all college teachers might need to learn to make adjustments for these students, who undoubtedly will seek higher education.

How true! Who do you think learned more that semester, Fred or Mr. Yoder?

I have often said that Reid is a great teacher, meaning that he is such a demanding, complicated, (yet undeniably smart) kid that anyone in the position of teaching him learns more from him than they could in any degree program, continuing ed seminar, or years of experience. All rolled into one irresistible ball of fire, he can teach anyone willing to learn the importance of being honest, following through, doing what you say, maintaining instructional control, attention to detail, organizing classroom materials, planning ahead, being flexible, differential reinforcement, you name it.

One of our early, home-program therapists recognized how much Reid had taught her. Wanting to accelerate the learning curve of her new recruits, she donated session time to us so that Reid could develop and break-in her employees. "Iron sharpens iron"(as the Bible says in Proverbs 27:17) and she counted on Reid's mettle to sharpen the skills of her staff. We took her up on the offer!


The teacher searched to find just the right words, and what he wrote was upright and true. Ecclesiastes 12:9-11

I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will counsel you and watch over you. Psalm 32:7-9

See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland. Isaiah 43:18-20

photo credit: www.hs.wisd.org

Humble Pie

No doubt you have heard the recent buzz on ABC News about American Airlines removing a 2 year old passenger with autism and his mother from a flight. It has been well editorialized here at A Life Less Ordinary. Emily's moral of the story is basic: Do not touch another person's child without permission! I have two impressions. First, how easily it could have been avoided.

Second, how easily it could have been us. Just as Kristina Chew at Autism Vox shares, I have a "trove of near-horror stories" having traveled at least once a year cross continent since our twins were 6 months old. I recall the worst incident laying over in Reno on Southwest. A seatbelt stand off between Reid and my husband (not a flight attendant) who wanted it buckled NOW. (The plane was about to land.) I think a Sprite spilled and one thing led to another...before we knew it we were watching what could only be described as a full scale anxiety attack. The only differences from the Farrell's being, we were landing not taking off and we were in a front row so we could bolt off the plane into the terminal for some relative privacy. I will never fly anywhere near Reno again! Slots being pulled everywhere in pervasive smoke, I ducked into a corridor and waited until Reid could think straight. My husband and daughter, mortified by the gawking crowd, fielded questions from ground agents and officers.

In contrast, I recall being ushered by other travelers and personnel to cut to the front of the line getting through Customs in London. All could see that we needed to expedite the process or Reid was going to blow. It's not rocket science but it does take a little insight, flexibility, and humility.

To the current buzz I have to add this video dramatization. It is set within a sermon by our former pastor, Neal Nybo, at Solana Beach Presbyterian Church. The entire sermon on Humility is great, but if you are short on time go to 16:15 on the counter to watch another mother with her grown daughter to see what they experience in the air.

Please advance to 16:15 on the counter, to view the airline scene which is about 6 minutes long.

Each of us have the choice, fellow traveler, stewardess, mother, child. Which role will you play?

"Christ who...did not regard equality with God a thing to be grasped but emptied Himself, taking the form of a bond-servant, and being made in the likeness of men." Philippians 2:6-7

" Whoever exalts himself shall be humbled; and whoever humbles himself shall be exalted. Matthew 23:11-13

Then the King will say, 'I'm telling the solemn truth: Whenever you did one of these things to someone overlooked or ignored, that was me—you did it to me.' Matthew 25:40

photo credit: betty.libsyn.com

Where is Balance?

I have rocks in my sink. Literally. I lifted the idea from my hairdresser who has them in her salon's restroom. They create a spa moment for me and a sensory experience. The sound of water couououssshhhing over rocks takes me momentarily to the beach at high tide. On several of the stones are written abstract concepts--life themes of which I like to be reminded: Balance, Inspire, Journey.

Instead of INSPIRE-ing anyone or stimulating conversation as I had also hoped, they seem to bring on waves of ridicule and controversy. They confound my cleaning lady. She can't decide whether to wash each one or wash under them or wash around them. They are the ultimate knick-knacks I suppose--absolute clutter serving no function. Mind you she doesn't converse (even in Spanish) with me about them, but instead huffs and puffs as she moves them brashly out of her way.

The rocks (really they are pebbles) discombobulate my mother in-law. She clearly could not, would not, will not wash her hands in the out-of-doors environment that rocks in a sink simulate. Because the washroom is right off our kitchen, I heard her without trying, as she too moved them out of her way each time she washed her hands before meals. She could not fathom that the soapy water would simply filter through the rocks and on down the drain. Questions like, "don't they block the drain?" and "how can that be?" or "why did you put...?" kept us head-tilting like confused puppy dogs.

The stones intrigued our 20-

something nephews on a recent visit. Being younger, more idealistic and open minded, they actually added to the collection when we returned from the beach. And complimented my aesthetic! I take this as a good sign of what's to come with the next generation.

I digress. The BALANCE rock makes me think of many things. I need to find balance between my over-sympathetic, over- invested,  homeschooling 24/7, over-consumed role as mother and the role (which some feel I should try) of bon-bon eating, beach walking, puttering woman of leisure with no deadlines (or thoughts) other than arriving promptly to the carpool line and bus stop. Or does balance find itself?

We need to find balance when hearing reports about our children. Hearing that they have erred in school or with their peers can be devastating in the moment.  Yet, put in perspective (that's a synonym for balance), it is part of growing up and just serves to create a teachable moment. Maybe it's an opportunity to practice self-control dealing with difficult people.  Gee, let me tell you about guarding your tongue.  Hmmm, here's a good example of why modesty matters.

As a society, we need to find balance in our portrayal of autism in the media. People are critical of Autism Every Day as it portrays only the down-side, scary, gut wrenching, traumatic, unbearable reality of autism. Others criticize Autism Yesterday which oversimplifies the cause and "cure" by blaming immunizations for every incidence of autism. Both offer some truth. Neither is absolutely true. Fundraising dinners are a good place for the worst-case-scenario depictions. Family movie nights are a good place for the tolerance tales. New parent orientations are a good place for the hopeful testimonials.

Two cliches come to mind: All press is good press and Consumer Beware. If nothing else, the airtime that autism is getting in the media stimulates the nay sayers to create the "rest of the story;" the flip side then creates balance.  And dear fellow parent, don't believe everything you read, hear or see.  We need to be wary of anything that promises or strongly infers to "fix" our kids. A better pursuit is to arrive at the point of seeing that they are not broken. If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is. If it insults your child on the way, skip it!  

My husband has written about the extremist view as a rallying point for the green environmentalist movement in his blog, oceanswavesandbeaches.com. (He is my inspiration and tutor for all things technological and futurist.) Like our interest in autism, his passion for the environment has become trendy all of a sudden.  For those of us living with autism as a reality not a trend that can breed resentment sometimes.  We are like the Irishman who won't wear green because he knows he's Irish all yearlong not just on St. Patty's Day!  We know autism yesterday, everyday and tomorrow too.  Self-respect and pride are not about a green shirt and hair.

Any new passion or bandwagon requires jumping to the extreme before a leveling off occurs. The groundswell and critical mass of media about autism is good even though it's not all accurate. It is on people's radar. There is enormous fodder for discussion. It has not reached an equilibrium. Balance will find itself. That's my soapbox on the BALANCE rock...stay tuned for INSPIRE and PEACE.

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven... a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them       Ecclesiastes 3:1-3  

Who has measured the waters in the hollow of his hand, or with the breadth of his hand marked off the heavens? Who has held the dust of the earth in a basket, or weighed the mountains on the scales and the hills in a balance?     Isaiah 40:11-13

photo credits: copleysociety.org; gilpin.wordpress.com; abcnews.com