Great Balls of Fire

Our eldest has been quite intrigued with the happenings of the Pentecost these days, courtesy of his Children's Church teacher. For example, we've been asked numerous questions about how the apostles were able to be understood by people who spoke different languages. I suppose this would be a hard concept for a very literal fellow, much like many concepts that we believers take for granted.

Tonight as we drove in our van, hubby was following behind in his truck. Despite my assurances that daddy was indeed there, our youngest was very concerned about whether or not daddy was actually behind us and expressed his desire to remove his car seat buckle so he could turn and see for himself. I told him that, no, he could not unbuckle. Then, I proceeded to explain that he would just have to trust that daddy was indeed behind us in his truck, much like we have to trust that God is there even though we can't see Him. While his younger brother pondered my impressive analogy -- or became distracted by something else, most likely -- the eldest spoke up, in typical random fashion, and asked why the apostles had "fire balls" over their heads. Thankfully, I am well acquainted with random associations and knew immediately that we were back to the Pentecost.

I explained that, in my understanding, the flames were there as a sign of the Holy Spirit's presence with the apostles on that day.

"Why were there balls of fire?" he queried.

"I'm not sure," I said, "but I think it was just something God used to show that the Holy Spirit was with the apostles."

"What did the fire balls do?" he asked, probably thinking of some defensive weapon from a cartoon.

"Well, they were just there above the people's heads...and I think they went away soon after."

"They went away?" asked he.

"Yes, I think God just used them as a sign for that one occasion, the first time the Holy Spirit had come," I explained. "But the Holy Spirit was still with them, just like the Holy Spirit is with mommy and daddy because we chose to love and follow Jesus."

Silence.

"And some day hopefully you'll choose to love and follow Jesus, too, and the Holy Spirit will be with you too, " I continued.

"Will I get a ball of fire too?" he asked with excitement.

"No, I don't think so," I said.

"Ah, man! I want a ball of fire!"

Yeah, I bet!

Phases of the Moon

Things have gotten a little bumpy at school the last few weeks. After weeks staying "green", we've seen a huge increase in "orange" days -- not just a warning, but actual timeouts. I'm not entirely sure what brought about the change. I know he was moved to a different spot for carpet time. The teacher also rearranged everyone's seats. There were also a few days in there where there were substitute teachers.

Anyway, he won't tell me why -- he says he forgets -- and I wasn't receiving any communication from the school. I sent a note to his teacher requesting a note in return on the days when he reaches that level of consequence, but still wasn't hearing anything. Finally, I emailed her expressing concern. She wrote back promptly saying that she and the resource room gal had decided the day before to implement a behavior plan. She explained that he had been exhibiting a lot of physical behavior/aggression -- though not necessary in anger, just a lack of control when it came to hitting -- which had resulted in the timeouts. He's very remorseful, she says, but only when she talks with him following the timeout.

Let me stop a moment to say here that hitting has been a huge problem with him from the moment he could move. Before he could talk, he would greet children and adults alike with a nice smack to the chest. More bizarre, he would reach out an swat strangers as he walked by when we were out in public. Obviously, we were not pleased and tried everything we could think of to teach him to stop. We still do. And we certainly don't condone it. This behavior -- and its perseverance despite so many interventions -- was a significant factor in our pursuit of a diagnosis. We are baffled as to the true motivation behind it -- though we know it stems from his lack of social skills/communication. There may be a little bit of sensory stimulation involved as well. The most bizarre thing about his hitting is that it comes and goes in phases. He will go weeks at a time without a single incident, then, without warning, he'll go into a week-long hitting frenzy. In recent months we have also seen a corresponding increase in classic autistic hand-flapping behavior. This too disappears for a significant length of time, only to show up unexpectedly.

Perhaps there is something to the theory of the phases of the moon having an affect on someone's behavior. Not being the superstitious type, I would dismiss such an idea if I hadn't seen it in action so many times. (My mom and I both have worked in the junior high discipline arena and can readily attest that there is a significant increase in naughtiness when there is a full moon. She has also noted that many kids will offend cyclically, for example, on the 8th or 9th of each month. And I have never met an ER nurse or OB/GYN who would say there wasn't an increase in visits during a full moon.) I haven't really kept track of the moon, or much of anything else outside general circumstances, when it comes to the cycles of my son's behavior...but maybe I should start??

Prayers for Grandma

My mother-in-law is having complicated surgery in the morning. I post this more as a reminder to myself to uphold her in prayer than anything else, but do please pray for our boys' grandma, my husband's mother, as she undergoes this surgery and faces a possible lengthy recovery. We love you, grandma!

Itsy Bitsy Pumpkin Patch Pictures

These arrived by email, so they are in a compressed form. But you get the idea. And yes, my mom and I (in the two top pictures) differ only in hair color. Aren't we cute? I have her to thank for the photos...among many other things!

Weight/Wait

Walking, stumbling on these shadowfeet
Toward home, a land that I've never seen
I am changing
Less and less asleep
Made of different stuff than when I began
And I have sensed it all along
Fast approaching is the day

When the world has fallen out from under me
I'll be found in you, still standing
When the sky rolls up and mountains fall on their knees
When time and space are through
I'll be found in you

There's distraction buzzing in my head
Saying in the shadows it's easier to stay
But I've heard rumours of true reality
Whispers of a well-lit way

When the world has fallen out from under me
I'll be found in you, still standing
When the sky rolls up and mountains fall on their knees
When time and space are through
I'll be found in you

You make all things new

When the world has fallen out from under me
I'll be found in you, still standing
Every fear and accusation under my feet
When time and space are through I'll be found in you
When time and space are through I'll be found in you
When time and space are through I'll be found in you

-Shadowfeet, Brooke Fraser



Why do I feel so suffocated by the world right now? I am weary with all the political fighting and cruelty in the media -- on both sides. The media is obviously not the place to go when one needs to be cheered up, but these days its just that much worse what with all the finger-pointing, deceit, and downright arrogance. Its simply depressing. And it certainly doesn't make me want to vote for anybody. Its frustrating not to be able to just know the truth. Who can I trust? Isaiah 2:22 tells me, "Stop trusting in man, who has but a breath in his nostrils. Of what account is he?" Too bad I have to choose between two men in just a matter of weeks. I mean, I've already made up my mind, but I wish I had another option. I really don't prefer to be aligned with either side. My gut tells me that America will never be the same after this election. That kind of scares me -- except that my hope and trust isn't in man. You can tell that this whole thing bothers me though, because this is the second time I've mentioned politics on this blog and there are few things that I hate more than talking politics! (Sorry, Tim!)

I've been thinking a lot about what's important to me, my priorities, etc. (In my spare time, of course.) Quite honestly, it would be very easy to become depressed with our earthly circumstances right now. I'm sure most people could say the same thing. Financially, we're barely hanging on. We're way behind where we would like to be in aggressively seeking help for our son. Our earthly possessions are rapidly deteriorating. And we're waiting, always waiting, for our unknown baby girl halfway around the world.

The last of these has really been on my mind lately and is one of the driving thoughts that urges me to examine our life. I find it ironic that we had to complete a 20+ page homestudy document, proving that our life is stable enough into which we could bring an adopted child and all that doing so entails, but if one were to look at our life superficially, one would hardly see stability. Our entire life has become one huge exercise in trust...and obedience. The Lord didn't tell us, "When you're financially sound, adopt a child." or "When everyone is healthy, in every regard, adopt a child." He simply asked us to adopt a child and to trust Him for the details. To many who look at our life, this seems like foolishness. But, unlike folks alluded to in the first paragraph, He has never let us down yet.

Whether I leap into the foggy voids that are adoption and mainstream kindergarten or sign my name with great trepidation to a voter's ballot, what is important is in Whom I place my trust. If I remember that, I can breathe easier.

**I love the song above, which I assume is taken from Psalm 46. I am VERY picky about my worship music choices, so I was pleasantly surprised to hear this song on the radio. I plugged it into this blog for now, for those who would like to hear it. Just turn up your speakers. Or turn them down, if you are so inclined.

Let's Hear it for the Boy(s)

Its not my favorite way of posting, but due to the absolute craziness of life right now, I'm just going to post a few updates. Forgive me!

Shark Boy did indeed lose his first tooth last Friday. And promptly swallowed it. (It was snack time at school.) His teacher and I assured him that he could write a note to the Tooth Fairy explaining what had happened and that he would still receive a reward for his lost (literally) tooth. He was content with that and thrilled when the Tooth Fairy did indeed come through as we said she would.

We had discovered that our months-old camera was broken just days before, thus I have no photos of this monumental occasion...yet. Thank goodness for the Office Depot Protection Plan. (Our electronics seem to have my tendency towards accidents. Go figure.) Hopefully we'll have a replacement soon.

My foot continues to be a real pain. (Sorry. Couldn't resist.) It seemed to improve quickly, but I think I did too much on it too soon, so I've been back on the crutches for the last two days. Phooey. It has been extremely frustrating. Few things bother me more than feeling helpless, so its taken a lot of creativity and energy on my part to keep my attitude positive. (I think the only one more frustrated than I would be our poor puppy. I'm usually the one who walks her or at least keeps her moving throughout the day.) I did my grocery shopping with an electric scooter today. I'm all about humiliation, let me tell you! Nothing quite like trucking around on a scooter, passing little old ladies with walkers on the cereal aisle. I just couldn't figure out how else to do it -- can't push a grocery cart when you have to use your hands to move your crutches. And then there's the clingy 3 year-old.... He got to ride on my lap. It made his day.

Going back to the nearly 6 year-old: He has "stayed on green" for, gosh, two and a half weeks now. We are so thrilled. HE is so thrilled. Its all about the power of prayer, I assure you. That little guy has come SO far in the last year, its unbelievable.

I never posted an update regarding his IEP meeting. I sat down to do it multiple times, but never could find the motivation to go into it. It ended up not being an IEP meeting at all. It was what they call a Functional Behavior Assessment. Its what they usually do with kids who are exhibiting problem behavior (ie being bad) in an attempt to get them to stop said behavior or else certain agreed upon consequences would take place. We were not told that it would be a FBA. We were told that we would be revising his IEP. But I digress. Let me just summarize by saying that the gal in charge of his IEP is going to be a challenge with which to work. She basically announced to all present at the meeting that she felt our son was acting out to get attention. In other words, he's a brat. And she continued with that attitude throughout the meeting. This is a woman supposedly trained in special education services. I am convinced that she was more concerned about his behavior than his teacher and find it interesting that most of his issues occur(ed) while under the former's watch. All such behaviors were reported to me by this gal, with never a word from the teacher. But again, I digress! (See, this is why I avoided posting on it for so long. Its very complicated and almost seems moot because he IS doing so well right now.) On a more positive note, his teacher and the school psychologist seemed to actually be familiar with the needs of children with autism and I think we had a productive discussion with them in terms of ideas to try with our son to help things work more successfully for all involved. AND his teacher reported that he has been doing very well in terms of his actual academic, individual work time. What mama wouldn't be thrilled to hear that??

While in bragging mode, I cannot forget to mention my uber-talented hubby, who spent the weekend taking part in a whirlwind international book tour with a group of fellow young adult, fantasy fiction writers. Okay, so they only went to Canada, but these days it requires a passport, so travelling to Canada almost seems exotic. Almost. They also hit a couple locations around our state. For the curious, you can view video clips of their tour here.

Also, I would be remiss if I forgot to mention the crazy news over at our adoption blog, again.

And so, my brief update has blossomed into an multi-paragraphed monologue. All that's missing is a thesis statement. Sorry!

**Photos from a fundraising event held by my father-in-law at, of all places, a chocolate factory. How cool is that?!

I'm Okay!

I have never been graceful. And if there is some clumsy accident to be had, it will be had by me. I made an annual event out of being on crutches from 7th through 10th grade, though I never broke a bone. I was just skiing when my doctor told me not to. A year ago Labor Day I revisited my hobbling hobby by breaking my little toe, thereby wrecking that record.

Speaking of wrecking, I was pulling into the church parking lot tonight to pick up my little darlings from AWANA -- in the dark, in a parking lot with which I'm not very familiar -- and totally high-centered the family van on a curb. Nice. I'm great at making subtle entrances. After doing an entire lap around the parking lot, driving back out onto the road, and coming back into the parking lot in an attempt to find a parking spot, I was a little bit irritated. Finding a spot eventually, I tried to examine the undercarriage of the van to see the extent of the damage. Couldn't tell.

I made my way to the nursery to pick up the youngest, started down the stairs -- still miffed at myself -- while trying to spot him in the windows ahead. Bad idea. Distracted, I failed to account for that last step and crashed in a heap at the bottom, rolling my foot/ankle in the process. Tears. Lots of tears, because in the ensuing clamor to fetch my husband, ice, the boys, and the peering of anxious faces young and old, I am really feeling like the biggest idiot in the land. Nobody's fault but my own. Ah, humility. What a constant companion you are!

I apologize to the kind lady who first happened upon me, because I think I uttered a few words not approved by the AWANA staff. It wasn't the pain so much as envisioning our life the next few days -- did I mention my husband is going out of town?? -- with me not able to walk, drive, or fetch milk and snacks on a minute by minute basis.

Fortunately, it turns out to be only a badly sprained foot. So here I sit with my bandaged foot elevated above my heart and a liver-killing dose of ibuprofen in my belly. And crutches. As I kissed the boys good night, I asked them to pray for my foot. My youngest pouts and says he doesn't want to. I think he'll change his mind tomorrow when he has to fetch his own milk.

**A note to folks considering the church merger: I was offered both crutches and a wheelchair by the kind folks at ECC. Combine those with our defibrillator and we'd be ready for anything! Or at least ready for anything I can dish out. But lights for the parking lot. We definitely need lights for the parking lot....