For the following two weeks I made multiple calls to their office explaining that I had a family history of Crohn’s and colon cancer. Their only concern was, “we need to get you on a regular BM schedule.” I tried laxatives and more enemas but at this point my stomach was hard and the pain I felt was intense. This went on for two full weeks. Luckily, I had a scheduled colonoscopy for Thursday,September 23rd, 2021, at 8:00 AM.
On the night before my appointment, I began to prep for this procedure. My preparation consisted of Miralax and Gatorade. At this point I was in an immense amount of pain and realized the prep was not doing anything. By doing this prep, my body should have started to flush anything and everything in my intestines out, but it wasn’t. Around 8 PM I called the on-call doctor. I was again told to try doing multiple enemas and if that didn’t help to call him back.
I’m sure you can see where this is going. Of course, it did not help, and nothing was coming out. I was then told to stop the prep and wait until the morning to attend my colonoscopy appointment. That night I knew something was wrong. I asked my partner to come into the bedroom to talk, “If anything happens to me please take care of the boys” I said. I had previously expressed to my mother that I knew something was wrong and also expressed the same to some close friends. I’ve always been one to listen to my intuition.
My father took me to the Endoscopy Center for my appointment in the morning. Upon getting there, I told the nurses about my night prior. When they heard how unsuccessful the prep was, they decided not to start to prep me for the colonoscopy. The doctor came in shortly after to explain that she was unable to help or do the procedure that day and that I needed to go downstairs to the ER. I had to wait in the waiting room for a time period I can’t even recall. During that time, they did take me back to have an X-ray and a CT scan. After the doctor viewed the results, I was told that it looked like I had a block (most likely fecal matter.)
Still there, my partner had to leave around 3pm to go pick up our youngest son from the school bus. My parents also left after a long day of waiting and told me to keep them updated. Shortly after everyone left I was told I needed a Covid test because I was getting admitted.
The next few minutes were a blur.
Someone came down from the endoscopy center and rolled me upstairs. They told me that I was going for a scope. To say I was scared was an understatement. I was brought into the procedure room where I met an amazing GI doctor and an incredibly kind nurse. Before I was put under general anesthesia, I asked how long the procedure would take and they told me approximately 1 to 1 ½ hours. Going through this alone, is cause for anyone to have anxiety but for someone who already has anxiety, I began to have an attack.
The nurse held my hand, as she saw my fear, to comfort me. She was truly an Angel.
The next thing I knew I woke up and was in recovery. I asked the nurses what time it was. I figured it must’ve been around 5:30/6:pm as I knew I had gone in for my scope around 4. They replied, “1AM”. Hearing this, I thought they were joking. The nurses assured me they were not joking. Within a few
minutes a wonderful surgeon that I had never met came into my room. She explained to me that I had had a tumor blocking my intestines, and that she removed it. She told me it was cancer and that now I have a temporary ileostomy bag. The moment I heard her say these words, my life changed in more ways than I could ever explain.
I was beyond grateful that the surgeon had previously talked to my mother and explained everything to her. My mother was the person who gave her the OK to do the surgery while I was under. The next few days in the hospital were a blur. There were so many things that I had to learn. One of them being how to change my ostomy bag and come to terms with my cancer diagnosis.
During this time, my surgeon also told me had I not gone in when I did, within a few days my intestines would have ruptured and most likely I would have gone septic. The outcome would have been something totally different. I would have died. I wouldn’t be here, and I wouldn’t be able to share my story with you.
When I say my surgeon saved my life, she truly did. She took something out of my body that was life threatening. Something I didn’t even know existed in my body and she saved my life. During my stay at the hospital, she said to me that she was confident she had got all the cancer. Her confidence and kindness made me feel at ease, an ease only she could provide.
Getting a Cancer diagnosis could have changed everything for me in a negative way. I could have easily been angry and lived in that feeling for an unknown amount of time. However, I chose not to be angry, I chose to take this as a second chance at life. I looked forward to getting out of the hospital and
embracing my new life every single day.
It was shortly after I was released from the hospital that I found out the stage of my cancer. Stage 2 high risk colon cancer. That meant six months of oral chemotherapy. Chemo could have easily been another reason why my world could have been rocked in a negative way, but instead I remembered that I was
just so grateful to be alive. My cancer was treatable, and I was able to look forward to eventually being cancer free.
Later on, during that very same day, I found out that my surgeon did in-fact get all the cancer out of my body and that all of my lymph nodes were clear of cancer!
The next few months were filled with many ups and downs. As hard as I wanted to stay happy, sometimes I wasn’t. Right before starting my chemo, I learned that I had an infection in my incision site and had to delay my chemo. A few weeks later it became infected again and I had to pause chemo again. When I sit here and try to express how much the chemo took out of me, I just can’t. No words could ever truly depict how it made me feel. I was beyond exhausted all of the time and sometimes just getting out of bed took every ounce of energy I had in me. The truth is the nausea, exhaustion, chemo brain, hand and foot syndrome (redness and painful blisters on my hands and feet) and my hair thinning were all chemo side effects or as I call them “sacrifices” in order to get to remission.
As I mentioned before, prior to any of this happening I had severe anxiety and depression. Leaving my house was something I struggled with daily. I also realized I had been self-sabotaging myself for many years by telling myself that I wasn’t worth it and constantly putting myself down. I’m not saying I enjoyed cancer and that everything happens for a reason, but I truly was given a second chance at life the moment I woke up after surgery.
From that moment on, I refused to waste a second of my life. The person that I was before no longer exists and I’m a much better person now because of it. I say yes and go out of my comfort zone often. When my 7-year-old asked me to bake a cake at 7:00pm on a school night instead of saying no we baked a cake. He decorates it all by himself, often times making a mess but the memories we make now are worth it. I pick my battles and no longer stress over the small things in life that I can’t control. I make an effort to show up for the people who mean the most to me in my life. By showing up for them is also me showing up for myself.
Aside from making time for the ones I love and who love me, I also did something remarkable. I finished my last semester in college. This is something that I will forever be proud of. Ironically the same day that I finished chemo I graduated with my bachelor’s degree in Children’s Learning, Development, and
Advocacy. I am using this opportunity to constantly tell my story to anyone that will listen. I feel it is so important that we all learn to advocate for ourselves and that we learn to trust our instincts when it comes to things we feel in our body. I want to educate people and eliminate misconceptions.
Colon cancer is not just a cancer for old people, I was 40 when I was diagnosed, just a few days before I turned 41. The guidelines say that people should be getting colonoscopies after they turn 45, that isn’t good enough. I know it ran in my family, but statistics have changed and show that so many more younger people are getting diagnosed with colon cancer. I also believe that if you have a doctor who is not listening to you, you need to find a new doctor. It is sad that we have to fight for people to listen to us when we know our own bodies. I do have to say I am so grateful for the team that I have now and their willingness to always listen to me and explain everything. They have never once dismissed a failing that I’ve had.
Being diagnosed with cancer was one of the worst things that I have ever dealt with. However, the way it changed me is one of the best things that could have ever happened to me.
Submitted by: Amie Teixeira
Amie you are so brave, and I love how you never let cancer take your life but rather use it to empower you to live the life you want.
It was an honor to share Amie's story with the world and I feel incredibly grateful she entrusted me with it.
Love and lemons,
]]>My young life growing up was spent with my mom and my brother. My mother was estranged from my father by the time I was two which meant I have no memory of him. It would be an understatement to say that over the years of being raised by a single mother my mom became very bitter with a hardened heart and unrealistic expectations. I can see now as an adult that she was abusing prescription drugs and was emotionally hurting and if there is one thing I’ve learned from this world it’s that “hurting people hurt others”.
With that being said, my life growing up was not the carefree typical life of a child. My brother and myself were subjected to many years of both physical and verbal abuse at the hands of our mother. My brother who was four years older than myself was my rock then and is still my rock now. When you go through something traumatic together for years on end it creates a special bond. One that cannot be broken even when our mother has tried.
I won’t go into all of the specific details of our trauma, but I will let you know that by the time my brother was 16 he had left home because of the abuse. My mother had several men come into our life over the years as she sought acceptance and love. Again, only recognizing this behavior as what it was now that I am an adult…she was hurting. I was a stellar student and had already made up my mind that I would do everything in my power to get out of this life. My brother was gone now and so I became the main recipient of her rages.
This story is one of an entire childhood, but I will focus on the events that happened when I was 15.
While I had been a Christian for many years, I had become quite bitter during my teenage years wondering why God wasn’t saving me from my situation. After all we were just kids, but that night the Lord knew I needed him more than ever. By the grace of God I had managed to get to another room and (graphic details ahead) while my mother was sitting on top of me strangling the life out of me my alcoholic stepdad came in and pulled her off of me. You read that right, my alcoholic stepdad saved my life!
The Lord showed up in a mighty way through a broken person and saved MY LIFE! I was able to run to the neighbors for help and when the police arrived, I was removed from the home and I spent the next few months living in a Baptist Home downtown.
The events that followed were not anything like what would happen in today’s time. I was returned to the home after her “mandated” counseling had been completed. No consequences for her actions, no support for me, no one to help me. The next several years were continued abuse until I was 18 and my brother helped move me out while my mother was at work one day. I had to leave everything I had ever owned behind just to get out.
The following years I spent on friends’ couches. I made horrible choices and any hopes of a normal life had dissipated. God wasn’t even in my thoughts by this point.
I was struggling with finding a way to make a life for myself and so I asked my brother to help me contact our father. I would love to say that we were able to become close, but his life was cut short due to heart problems. After his death I learned that my mother had kept him from us for all those years by lying to us and telling us that he didn’t want to see us. Yet another form of her abuse and bitterness. She took my dad away from me on purpose!
It took me years to understand how someone could do the things that she had done to their own child. I’m not sure that I’ll ever completely understand, but over the years with the help of many Christian women mentors and counseling I learned that I can be who I was created to be and learn from my past. I learned that even when I had turned away from God that He was still protecting me and kept me safe from many other bad choices I had made along the way to becoming who He knew I would be. A mom. A wife. A friend. A Christian.
I took that abuse and I used it as the power to become the best mom I could be! I made the choice to have a family that showed love. Supported each other and who stayed around. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that I did everything right by any means, but I made sure that every day my kids knew how much I loved them and how grateful I was to be their mom! The Lord sent a man to me that never raises his voice or his hands to me. Someone that supports my crazy dreams and is my biggest cheerleader.
I have raised our kids and maintained our home and now I run my own small business.
For those of you wondering. I do not have a relationship with my mother. While I have forgiven her many years ago the level of toxicity that she still maintains all of these years later is just not something that I can subject myself to anymore. However, I am at peace with that now and I have had many other women placed in my life to help fill the role of a mother. My brother struggled for many years in his adult life because of the abuse, but I am pleased to say that he is doing well now! We have a wonderful relationship and are so thankful for each other. He also does not have a relationship with our mother. Some folks don’t understand that, but we have learned over the years what we can handle and what we can change. We can’t change her, but we can walk away from any future hurt.
Submitted by: Machelle, Owner of House of 5
Thank you Machelle for sharing your beautiful story of redemption! It is truly a testimony to God's unwavering love and how he can use the most unlikely people to move through!
If you would like to learn more about Machelle, you can check her out HERE.
Love and lemons,
]]>
God-fearing Christians all agree that the state of our nation and society is a result of the people turning away from God. I cannot say I don’t agree. The violence, anger, and pure evil present in our country is evident. If you don’t believe me, turn on the news. We are truly a lost people.
But whose fault is that, exactly?
I look back on my childhood. I was raised in church; I chose to become a baptized believer at just seven years old. I had a firm foundation of knowing God and who He is. We attended a smaller, country church as a family. My parents were and are still faithfully married, abstained from drinking or smoking, and were in church every time the doors opened.
Fast forward to middle school. I threw myself into academics and cheerleading. I felt like this was the best way to be the picture of a “good girl”.
I began a relationship that continued on to high school with a football/basketball/baseball player. This proved to be the first in a series of toxic romantic relationships. By 14 years old, I had already experienced mental and emotional abuse as well as physical and sexual abuse at the hands of a romantic partner. I was afraid of him, but equally afraid of losing him. He often threatened suicide if I tried to end things but became violently angry if I hesitated to meet his “needs”. He bruised my body as well as my soul.
When my parents intervened and he eventually tired of me and moved on, I began a healthy dating relationship with my best friend, a boy I had been friends with for years. A few months into dating, he informed me that his parents were having doubts about me. You see, his family belonged to one of the more prominent churches in our small town. One of their leaders had “heard about” me and that I was “bad news” and didn’t think I would be a good influence on him. They called a meeting with my friend and his parents to discuss his decision to date me. We ended things shortly after.
This was the first time I experienced trauma from a religious institution, and it bruised me deeper than the abuse I had previously suffered ever did.
My junior year I was the lead in the school musical. Some boys in my class, who made their distaste for me very obvious, made a video for a class project. It was Western Civ, and the subject was Hitler’s assassination attempts. In this video, one of the boys dressed as my character and tried to “annoy Hitler to death”. For about ten minutes I was ridiculed and then, Hitler’s bodyguard pulled out a handgun and shot my character in the back of the head, execution style.
Several of these boys were from “nice families”, active in church. In fact, the boy who pulled the trigger was one of the Fellowship of Christian Athletes officers at our school and regularly spoke and prayed at sports events.
It was somewhere during that time that I lost faith in the church. Not in God, but in those who called themselves His followers.
This was also the first time I thought seriously about ending my life.
Gandhi said “I like your Christ; I do not like your Christians. They are so unlike your Christ.”
I have felt this at the bottom of my heart. I have met many GOOD people who attend church and embody the spirit of love and mercy that Jesus spoke of during his 33 years on Earth. However, I have experienced so much trauma at the hands of those who call themselves devout Christians that I tend to look at these people as the exception, not the rule.
I am fortunate for my strong upbringing and my parents’ example that I didn’t just give up on God altogether. I know with every fiber of my being that God exists, that He loves me, and He is with me. I commune with God in the woods or on the river. I feel Him when I am overwhelmed, and I draw strength from Him to go on. I feel His peace when I pray, and I see him when I look into my children’s eyes.
When I go to church, I feel nervous, guarded, and fearful. I look around and see people ready to judge and condemn me. I realize this may not be a rational fear, but my past has left me scarred and jaded.
If you want to know why the world has turned from God, look at how the church treats “outsiders”. People who have made public mistakes, people who may look different than them, or people with lifestyles or political beliefs they don’t agree with.
I listen to the beautiful, powerful music playing as my daughter sleeps. I want her to know Jesus as I did as a child; I want her to have the same foundation I did.
And I admit to myself, deep down I crave fellowship, to feel God’s presence in a crowd of believers raising their hands and praising Him.
Maybe one day, I can overcome my painful past and find somewhere I belong.
If the church wants to make meaningful change in the world, they need to look within their own institutions and the people representing Christianity.
Because like Gandhi said, sometimes the Christians are so unlike their Christ.
Submitted by: Anonymously
Thank you so much for being brave and sharing your story. I understand that this can sometimes be a touchy subject to speak about, but I do think that this is something that a lot of Christians struggle with...finding a warm and welcoming church especially if you are new to the particular area, not in certain groups or cliques, different in general, etc. I am a Christian and am very open about that, but like the writer here, I have not been to church in 25 years because of some of those same feelings and experiences they touched on. Some of the most unwelcoming, unfriendly and judgmental people I have ever met were within the 4 walls of a church. It's very sad to say but it is true. I pray that one day we both find somewhere to worship that is a perfect fit.
Love and lemons,
]]>As I held up the card and asked my mom who Leslie was, I noticed a shadow fall over her face. I felt my stomach tighten as I realized something was about to change. My heart raced and I wished I could take back the question.
In that moment I discovered that Leslie was my real name, that my grandparents had adopted me and that my estranged sister was actually my birth mother.
Over the next few weeks, months, and years I slowly learnt the circumstances surrounding my birth and adoption.
My story:
I was born two and a half months premature in an ambulance between two towns. I was very weak and not expected to last a more than a couple of weeks. My birth mom had been unable to pay the hospital bills and so she had removed all the tubes that I was hooked up to, left the hospital unseen and travelled 12 hours to a coastal city. In a building, in an area known for drugs and prostitution she and my father rented an apartment and went on a drug bender.
Miraculously, a superintendent of the building had grown suspicious when the baby in that apartment, whose cries grew weaker and weaker, eventually stopped crying. After knocking and calling out repeatedly she unlocked the door to find my parents unconscious and me, unclothed on the floor. I was dirty, weak, malnourished and lying in my own mess. She went through my parent’s belongings and found a telephone and address book. She took me and that address book and left.
After learning of my adoption, my birth mom came back into our lives. The next couple of years would settle the unworthiness in my heart as she came and went multiple times, leaving me confused, hurt, and rejected.
For years after hearing about my beginning I questioned my value and worth. I labeled myself unworthy, unloved, and unwanted. I believed the lies I told myself: that I was too much or not enough. I believed that I was a mistake, an accident, and an unpleasant surprise. These labels stopped me from believing the promises of God and held me back from pursuing the purpose and calling over my life. The beginning to my story could have easily been the end as well, and for a period of time it nearly was. The false identity I had created in my head disqualified me from living a full life as a wife, mother, friend, and woman in Christ. I discounted my words and actions as having any value and my world became very small and closed.
Slowly, through seeking God and reading His word, the Holy Spirit helped to heal those broken places in my heart. Through promises such as “being created in Christ for good works which God prepared beforehand” (Ephesians 2:10) and that “all the days ordained for me were written in his book before one came to be.” (Psalms 139:13-16) I slowly came to accept and believe that I was chosen, loved and called before I was born. That my life had meaning and value beyond what I could naturally see.
This time though, I was rooted and grounded in God’s love and truth.
My earthly father may have disowned me, but the truth of who my heavenly father is sustained me. He chose me first (John 15:16), he promises to be a father to me (2 Corinthians 6:18), He promises to sustain me (Isaiah 40:31), and He has good plans for me (Jeremiah 29:11).
Perhaps, like me you have felt your story has disqualified you from living the life God has called you to. Maybe you feel like God has lost control of your story. That he’s forgotten you in your pain and discomfort. I want to encourage you today; I was not an accident, and neither are you. God is deeply concerned and actively involved in each of our stories.
Because of God’s love and pursuit of my heart I can boast in the Lord, “You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives”. (Genesis 50:20).
Submitted by: Kerry Duffield
What a beautiful story of redemption! When I was getting everything together for this story, I found myself hanging out on Kerry's website for long periods of time. She is such a talented writer and has so many wonderful things to share. If you liked this story and the message she shared within her story, I think you would love her website About These Things.
Thank you Kerry for being brave and sharing your story!
Love and lemons,
]]>To start, let me just state this:
*In all things we are to give glory to God. So, this is in no way, an attempt of seeking glory from man.
Also,
*No matter the situation, The Lord can use any and everything to accomplish His will and purpose. In this case, unbeknownst to me, He was going to use me.
So here we go,
When my roommate and I first met, it was late at night. We were both admitted into the pediatric unit because that was the only room they could put us. It was a COVID-free floor and the hospital had limited visiting hours. Here I am, in room 333, with a picture of a lighthouse painted above my bed (which should have already been a sign of God’s purpose and covering.)
My husband had just left. Visiting hours were over and I was a complete mess. Up until that time, I had never stayed in a hospital by myself, so I was nervous.
After an hour or two, my roommate shows up. She was an absolute sweetheart. She was personable. She wasn’t a complainer. And unfortunately, she was stuck with me.
To be honest, I wasn’t up for conversations. So, I was cordial but still kept her at arm’s length.
In the beginning, she did most of the initiating lol. And although it took me some time to adjust my position, I slowly let her in, and she began to see a different side of me.
As the days went by, we began to get to know
each other better. We began to open up about our reason for being there. Our quick hellos turned into; what did you order to eat and conversations about what shows we were watching.
I mean, we’re both in vulnerable positions, there wasn’t much privacy when Dr’s and nurses came in to discuss our cases. That alone opened up the opportunity for us to speak more often about what we were individually going through.
There was a turning and shifting happening within my heart, to where I became a bit more invested in my roommate. We opened up about our lives and that which originally felt like an inconvenience became more of a pleasurable experience. I was ready to engage.
(Side note: Sometimes when you go through things we can paint the picture that no one will understand our stories, so why bother to tell it. They’ll either look down upon us or just won’t understand. So this creates silence and even further a resistance to engage. After some time, this becomes a pattern of comfort and safety that isn’t fitting for us. Sharing our hearts with others, allows a connection to be had. A better understanding of who we are with all of our frailties and wonders. It’s up to us if we decide to see and present the ugly instead of the beauty and wonder.)
This experience was a beautiful blessing.
Getting Discharged:
The time had come for me to be released. All tests came back as normal, and I was just waiting for the discharge papers to go through so I could finally go home.
I found it very peculiar that it took three hours for me to get discharged. So, I already knew something was up.
As we were eating dinner, my roommate began to compliment me on how my husband and I communicated with one another. She had privately been watching our interactions and overhearing some of our phone calls and WhatsApp conversations. She pretty much said that it was nice to see a husband and wife get along so well. Where you can tell that they have mutual respect and care for one another, and how she admired us for that. Even further, desired that within her marriage.
It was at that time that I instantly felt the Holy Spirit tell me to pray over her marriage.
I didn’t know what to say. I knew she was catholic but didn’t know if she would welcome my prayer.
But that was the moment I knew that my being in the hospital wasn’t about me anymore. God allowed me to be present in a moment where only He could provide what was needed.
So, I finished eating and built up the courage to ask her if I could pray for her. She said she wasn’t a religious person but didn’t mind me praying with her. And so I did, and she responded with nothing but appreciation.
She was the one God wanted to reach that moment.
And after I prayed, I told her, “if my only reason for being in here was to pray with you, then it was worth it.”
Basically what I’m saying is:
You never know what position the Lord will place you in to accomplish his will or reach someone He desires to touch.
Like the 99 and going after the one
(Matthew 18:12-14 AMP)
Like Paul had a vision of a man crying out for help from Macedonia
(Acts 16:9-10 AMP)
The Lord knew what she needed and had me be the point of contact on His behalf.
Galatians 6:10 AMP
So then, while we [as individual believers] have the opportunity, let us do good to all people [not only being helpful, but also doing that which promotes their spiritual well-being], and especially [be a blessing] to those of the household of faith (born-again believers).”
Often, it takes something out of our control to position us to do the things we would never do on our own. No matter how uncomfortable it is, there will always be a sign that God’s hand was in it, from beginning to end and everything in between.
It’s up to us to trust Him through the unknown and difficulties.
It’s up to us to come into agreement to be used by Him whenever and however.
It’s not up to me to see what has happened past my moment of obedience but to know that beyond that point, it is solely up to God to complete and fulfill all that He said.
His purpose,
His will,
His way.
In this situation, I was not the picture-perfect Christian. I was dealing with my own stuff. I wasn’t ready to engage and reach out to help someone else…. so I thought.
But little did I know, that what God had already placed within me was still shining brightly, although I felt dim.
This confirms to me that God will not wait for you to be completely through whatever you’re personally going through to put you on assignment. You can still be placed exactly where you need to be, to do His will.
You may not feel ready.
Your story may not feel complete and things may not be exactly how you want them to be but
You Don’t Stop Living.
You Don’t Stop Progressing.
You Don’t Stop Fulfilling Your Call To Be A Servant.
God won’t wait for all things to get better before He decides to use you. (If he did, nothing would ever get done.)
Get comfortable with the idea that The Lord is not looking for you to be perfect but willing to comply with His request.
It doesn’t matter if it’s publicly or privately, the response of obedience and level of submission should be the same.
I can’t say this enough…
Be Responsive To The Guidance Of The Holy Spirit
(especially if your ears have been trained to recognize His voice.)
1 Thessalonians 5:19-21 AMP
“Do not quench [subdue, or be unresponsive to the working and guidance of] the [Holy] Spirit. Do not scorn or reject gifts of prophecy or prophecies [spoken revelations—words of instruction or exhortation or warning]. But test all things carefully [so you can recognize what is good]. Hold firmly to that which is good.”
In Conclusion:
People are waiting for you to be obedient to what God has asked you to do.
Can you imagine someone not getting the confirmation they needed, the prayer they desperately/secretly desired to be prayed, all because you didn’t feel like it.
Well, what you feel right about now is the responsibility of your call…. don’t push it aside.
Sit in it.
Hang out with it.
Accept it!
Your life has a purpose and God can take care of you at the same time, He is taking care of someone else.
Rest assured that God is a masterful multitasker lol. Just don’t disrupt the flow by saying No, when He wants your Yes.
I hope this post has both encouraged and blessed you.
Keep Going. Don’t Stop. You’re Doing Great!
Submitted by: Tonya Ballard
Thank you so much Tonya for allowing me to share your story. What a beautiful testament to how God can show up in the most unlikely situations (here at a hospital) and show his love through you.
If you want to learn more about Tonya check out her website HERE.
Love and lemons,
]]>Why are innocent children having to deal with such hard & grown-up things?
Submitted by: Leah Altsman
I really felt this post. I feel like I could have written it myself as I have asked myself most if not all of these questions. I've also gone done the "what" rabbit hole as well. "What did I do wrong?" "What could I have done differently?" "What if I had only (insert any suggestion or recommendation Google has to offer)?" I have been there too. I feel like most parents of children with special needs and abilities have. She is so right in saying that despite the special needs community being so large, you feel so alone and helpless a lot of the times. That needs to change.
If you would like to learn more about Leah, check out The Hot Mess Momma Club. I've been a member for several years and she always has great information, a fun and active audience, and having the big heart that she does, she is always surprising her Momma's with fun prizes and giveaways. Hop on over and join. You can find her on Facebook as well.
The question, “What is one thing you’d change about your life?”, gave me pause. They wouldn’t allow me to answer the obvious–annihilate Batten Disease. I had to go deeper. I found myself saying, “I’d have more adventure in my life. I’d go parasailing and paddle boarding. I wouldn’t be so bound by the mundane, the same routine all the time.” That was my answer after about 5 seconds of thinking. But later, I pondered that question. My answer was a surface response for something deeper attempting to come out.
I find myself suffering to the mundane over and over again in this life. Anyone else? Each day I wake up knowing it’s going to look the very same as the day before, with small, almost imperceptible, implications telling me it’s actually Tuesday rather than Monday. The days have been hard to track lately.
Our dreams and passions might have had to shift during this time also. Our secure foundations may be feeling slippery lately. The complete inability to anticipate the next turn can keep us up at night, raise our anxiety, and cause us to ask a whole lot of questions about why this is happening to us? Vacations, graduations, and meaningful ceremonies have been canceled. And all of this can leave us feeling like we are living in a desert–the circumstances of our world sucking the life out of us. And we find ourselves asking this question, “Am I even on the right path?”
During these months, we may feel stunted and cut off from our plans to adventure and grow. And no matter how hard we try to push through those places, we hit walls–walls we’ve either constructed in our own minds, or walls placed there by others or our circumstances.
In the book of Numbers, we come across the story of Moses sending Joshua, Caleb and 10 others into the Promised Land to scope it out and report back. Every one of the spies saw a lush, valuable land. But only 2 saw it through the lens of God’s promise to the Israelites. Fearful what-ifs blinded the rest of the spies. Joshua and Caleb held no what-ifs, but rather, set their eyes on what was true. God had promised them, and that was enough for them to step into the unknown. But the fear and doubt of the rest of the group caused the Israelites to wander in the desert until an entire generation passed away. Only Caleb and Joshua would live to see the promised land.
The people weren’t ready to step into the next adventure God had for them. But 40 years later, Joshua is appointed the new leader. With his eyes on God and His promises, Joshua looks around at his people and says, “Get your stuff together. We’re going in three days.” With full trust, Joshua listened to God’s instructions. There was no “Joshua plan”, it was God’s plan. It was an unearthly, miraculous victory into the Promised Land. I mean, really, who defeats a city by simply marching circles around their walls? But the power of God was with them and the obedient step into the great unknown was a game changer. The Israelites finally moved forward in trust and obedience.
Deuteronomy 1:2 tells us normally it should only take 11 days to travel from Egypt to the Promised Land. 11 days. Instead, the Israelites wandered the desert for 40 years because they were afraid to take the obedient step based on trust in the One and Only God who had proven His faithfulness over and over.
I wondered back at my truth or dare answer–my wish for more adventure. What did that really mean? Was it a pat answer to a silly game or was there a soul discovery to be uncovered? Was I standing at the edge of the Promised Land? Must I journey in the desert for 40 years before obediently stepping in to His promise? Or worse, miss His promise all together?
I wanted to jump in with full trust and obedience that led to action. But I honestly didn’t know what I was supposed to even step into. Doubt, confusion, unexpected plot twists, and circumstances out of my control blinded me, the trust jump feeling impossible. How could I say to myself, “Pack your things, Bekah. We are going in three days.” Where would God call me if I said yes? And how would I know if I’m really on the right path?
I have hindsight bias looking back to that moment of Bekah in the hot tub in 2016, life taken over by Batten Disease, much of her control stripped way. And I can say to her, without a doubt, that great adventure she craved was right there in front of her. It was a new perspective God would gift her, so she could see each and every step of life was an adventure in God’s big story. These life moments were her Joshua moments, even if they didn’t look as radical as crashing down the walls of Jericho.
During our time in quarantine, I have had this butterfly rush of gratitude flow through me, randomly, and at the most interesting times. I could be at the sink washing dishes, or picking up Ely’s toys. It flaps across my heart and settles in my gut and gives me pause to stop and take note. In those moments, I hold my breath because a revelation is close. Joy lives here in the middle of my mundane. This task of caring for my family is one of great adventure. Here was this rushing, gushing gratitude and a feeling of worthy adventure and accomplishment. And more than that–an awareness I can see all of this because of the lens of Jesus. This is my great adventure. This is my calling.
But I want one of those grand Joshua moments! You know? The ones where I step out and do extraordinary things like he did. And then God reminds me, “Who prepared the way for the Israelites?” You did, God.
“Who parted the water for them?” You, God.
“Who prepared the heart of Rahab, knocked down the walls of Jericho, met His people over and over on the battlefield–fighting as the underdog–helping them win over and over?” You, Lord.
And what was Joshua’s role? To trust and to step forward. Walking around a wall seems to be a pretty mundane thing to me. But with the love and power of God pulsing through, it becomes life-changing adventure.
May we never forget what it felt like to land our dream job, see our baby’s face for the first time, jump off a cliff, get the big win or promotion, receive an award, take the trip of a lifetime.
But let’s also not forget those character-building, gratitude-swelling, soul-searching moments along the way. The days where you get out of bed to do the exact same thing you did yesterday on far too little sleep. The days where you feel something’s got to give because you’ve got nothing left. This place, our desert – let’s not miss the adventures held here.
The desert was a refining chapter for the Israelites. God re-established their identity as His chosen people. Those desert moments shaped them, broke them, revived them. So, let’s shout thankfulness for our desert, just part of the adventure. And may we all live in this moment knowing God is here. He is working and we have reason to proclaim thankfulness even on week I-don’t-even-know-anymore of an endless set of groundhog days.
When you question if you’re on the right path, remember. We are invited to be part of the greatest story ever told right now. Not tomorrow, or after we’ve gone back to school or nailed the right job. Right now. Let’s step into that truth and awareness, shifting our perspectives, to see His call to great adventure here in front of us.
Guest Post by: Bekah Bowman
This blog post really hit home for me as I too have felt like I have been wandering aimlessly throughout my own desert over this past year. I feel like I have lost my way. Lost my purpose. Lost a piece of myself. Her story helped me find perspective in this season.
Thank you Bekah for sharing your beautiful story.
If you'd like to find out more about Bekah or how to purchase her book, "Can't Steal My Joy," click HERE.
Love and lemons,
]]>Nourishment. Enjoyment. Community. Creativity. Food. Overindulgent. Painful. Isolation. Addiction.
It wasn’t just a donut here or an ice cream cone with friends there. Sure, those things happened, too. Being out with friends, enjoying a treat together...there is nothing wrong with that. It was two bags of Hostess processed donuts, paid with cash so it wouldn’t show up on my bank statement every other day, eaten in secret so I wouldn’t have to face the shame and embarrassment of someone knowing. It was a destructive pattern--having to get my “fix” at 7:00 a.m. before I went into work and after a hard day at school.
My sugar addiction didn’t just magically appear. It came after I had starved myself for weeks, depleting my body of all fat. It came in the midst of a hard and stressful school year and emotionally exhausting and painful relationships. It became a coping mechanism, something to make me feel better in the moment--but if you’ve been addicted to anything, you know the cycle. You feel horrible. So, you indulge. And you indulge to the point where you feel horrible (for me, physically ill). And then you hate yourself for hurting yourself, so you hurt yourself again because you feel horrible.
This cycle didn’t just magically appear, which means it didn’t just magically disappear either.
And in the midst of shame and embarrassment, after months of suffering alone, I found the strength to tell my mom I was struggling. I didn’t tell her specifically about the food but about the depression and suicidal thoughts that came regularly, heightening my need to emotionally eat. With her support, I began my first attempt at recovering.
I moved into her house where we meal-planned together. I went to a therapist who tried to help. But my cravings were too strong, my life circumstances too hard, and my mind too unhealthy. After college, I again was determined to beat this addiction that was causing weight gain, exhaustion, and unhealthy thoughts. I moved to a new city where health and fitness were going to be my focus. And they were...for a few months.
After that city, I moved to another new city where once again I decided I was done with the pattern, the habit, the addiction. This time I refrained for longer. But I wasn’t better, I wasn’t healed. It wasn’t until I started taking responsibility for my life, my feelings and behaviors, that I was able to overcome this addiction.
Therapy, church, prayer, positive relationships, supportive people, all these things came into play to help me not necessarily get rid of my sugar addiction but heal myself--emotionally and mentally. I began to uncover the root of my extreme emotions, which fueled my need to emotionally eat. I began to intentionally journal, exercise, and invest in positive relationships. I began to build self-confidence and self-worth that helped me stand up against the cravings when they did come.
I remember one time in particular, after visiting my mom in the hospital, I was sitting in the parking lot of a store--knowing full well I could ease the pain of these deep feelings with just one purchase--crying. Sobbing. Not going in. Proud of myself. In pain. But not going in. That time in the parking lot was about two years ago now. And I am happy to say I don’t have those intense cravings anymore.
I am still cautious about acknowledging heavy feelings when they come so I never fall into that cycle again, but I know I have the strength to continue living a healthy life. That even in the midst of stressful situations, painful relationships, and heartbreaking life experiences, I can handle it, on my own, without Hostess donuts, because I am strong. I have the faith, the tools, and most importantly the hope to continue moving forward every day.
Submitted by: Lydia Mattern
Thank you Lydia for being so open and vulnerable about your struggles with food addiction and the often difficult road to recovery it can be. Just know you are worthy and loved! I am so proud of you!
If you loved her story, you can catch Lydia HERE.
Similar content can be found HERE.
Love and lemons,
]]>This week, I signed the papers that will dissolve my marriage. How could I be divorced at the age of 30?!
I felt sad, ashamed, unworthy and that I had failed God. I struggled with letting go and moving on for months. I lost everything. My husband, my car, savings and what little dignity I had. My heart was crushed.
I’m ashamed to say that for years I was a judgmental, selfish and broken person.
I cried regularly, acted impulsively and made every attempt to “save” my marriage. In hindsight, I know now that God had no intentions of saving my marriage, He was saving ME. God was saving me from myself. He broke me so far down that I had nowhere else to go but up. He taught me to lean and depend on Him.
I learned the importance of constant and meaningful prayer. He taught me to love more like Jesus, compassion and resilience. Through this difficult season of life, I have also learned the importance of “my people”. My family and friends have been amazing support systems throughout this process.
To my ex, I want to say two things. First, I am sorry. From the bottom of my heart, I am truly sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t the wife you needed me to be. Second, thank you. Thank you for letting me go an allowing me to become the person I am now. I am so overwhelmingly grateful and thankful for the trials and tribulations that have brought me to the place I’m at today. Given that the last two plus years have been and felt like a complete whirlwind, every bit of it was worth it!
Submitted: Whitney
I could see so much of myself in this story. Divorce is so hard no matter the situation. Whitney and I met on Instagram several years ago and she is such a sweet and beautiful soul. I have seen her transformation over the past few years and I can attest that she has emerged as a diamond under pressure.
Thank you Whitney for sharing your story!
Love and lemons,
]]>As I drove, a laundry list of sad memories surfaced to the forefront of my mind, piling up into a hopeless heap as I thought about my past and the events that had led me to this place. At that moment, I couldn’t see any way out of the situation I was in, other than just to end the pain I had carried for many years by taking my life. From my perspective, the 22 years leading up to this night were chuck full of chaos and dysfunction, and I was tired of suffering. I hadn’t seen my biological father since I was 18 months old, didn’t know if he was dead or alive, or where he lived if he was still alive. He was a drug user, alcoholic, cheater, abuser, and never paid a dime of child support. I had grown up not knowing him or anything about him. After my mom and dad divorced, it felt that I was somehow supposed to go on with my life as if that life event had never happened. So, I stuffed my memories, tried not to talk about it very much, and did my best to move on. I grew up in the church, but the environment I grew up in as a child was very different from what one might expect, being a church-going family. My parents grounded me for weeks for things I didn’t do, and I was told early on in my life that I needed to go on a diet, which eventually led to me developing eating disorders that lasted for years. Going into high school, I numbed my pain with food, boys, exercise, smoking weed and cigarettes, alcohol, and anything that could distract me from facing my problems. After high school, I was kicked out of my family home without a car and had two weeks to find a place to live and work. I was only 18 years old. At that point, most of my relationships were significantly strained, and I couldn’t hold a job for very long because of all the emotional baggage I carried. I didn’t have a college degree either.
As I drove down the freeway, and these thoughts and considerations raced through my mind, my phone rang. On the phone was a friend who said that God had told him to get me a hotel room for the night. God had miraculously intervened at the perfect time. As my friend told me the location of the hotel, and I pulled off the freeway in search of it, I knew deep down that God had quite literally just saved my life. As I cried in my hotel room that night, a small spark of hope emerged. If God could intervene so powerfully in a situation like that, then maybe He could intervene powerfully in the other areas of my life that seemed utterly hopeless. Maybe there was purpose in His intervention, and perhaps He had a purpose for my life. I finally went to sleep, thankful I was still alive, hopeful for what the following days would bring. That night, I resolved in my heart that from that day forward, I would do my best to figure out what God’s purpose was for my life since He had just powerfully intervened. It was evident that there was more to the story that I just wasn’t aware of yet.
Submitted by: Brandie J. Muncaster
What an awesome testimony to God's love and faithfulness! He can show up in the most unlikely and unexpected ways. It's so important we listen when the Lord nudges us to reach out to someone because you never know if you will be a life boat to someone at the end of their rope.
You can learn more about Brandie HERE.
Love and lemons,
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When I was in elementary school, I experienced my first narrow escape with a tornado. I remember my mom, my sister, and our neighbor-friend crying in a closet because my dad was out on the farm. We did not know where he was. The “what if” consumed me in that moment. Only bad could come of this situation. Once the storms cleared, Daddy came walking from the chicken houses. It was a feeling of overwhelming relief. To this day, I binge watch James Spann and do not sleep well when it storms.
When I was in middle school, I experienced death. My maternal grandmother, my great-grandparents, and an eight-month old cousin passed away. As a musician and the daughter of a music minister, we did not grieve but performed; I found that easier than facing reality. I sang at my first funeral in middle school.
My other grandparents also unexpectedly divorced during this time. The rug was ripped from under me. To this day, I wait for the next person to be taken too soon or the next marriage to implode without warning.
When I was in high school, I desperately wanted to fit in. I had anxiety about social things- not my grades. In 10th grade, I finally made a friend but he went to a different school. My parents were determined to help me overcome my social struggles and they let me move schools. I handled the transition well, but it was very hard for me when my friend graduated. I did not fit in; I was different but didn’t want to be. “What if” I never make a friend? I spent my time moving from one boyfriend to the next. Sadly, I spent senior year without a best friend. To this day, friendship and trust are not easy for me.
At eighteen, I moved away to college. Anxiety crippled me. I became extremely depressed and briefly considered an irreversible decision my junior year. After crying under my desk in my room for one solid day about all the “what ifs” in life and reaching out to my momma for advice, the mental health department at my college stepped in and changed the trajectory of my college years. Later, I married my college sweetheart. That marriage ended after three years. To this day, I have guilt about it all.
In my twenties, I had an anxiety attack at a park when my dad climbed down a cliff for fun. He was completely safe. However, the thoughts of “what if” crippled me. What if he fell? What if he got hurt? What if he died? I found myself in a ball, huddled against a building, sobbing. To this day, I feel shivers of “what if.”
In my thirties, I am overwhelmed by anxiety with my job. As an educator, I carry the weight of all the stories that come through my school. “What if” I cannot help? What if I cannot give comfort? What if a kid has a bad day at school? What if I make a mistake? What if I am not enough? Even today, I have anxiety about being perfect.
But God.
Many times in my life, I could have given up. I could have stopped. I could have succumbed to all the “what ifs” and lived a life of fear and hopelessness.
But God.
Nahum 1:7 reminds us that the LORD is GOOD!
But God.
He is good even when we cannot see. He is good even when we are far away from Him. He is good in all things.
I regularly see a faith-based counselor who is helping me overcome my anxiety of “what if.” I read faith-based books about trusting God in all things. I am married to the most spectacular man. My parents and sister are my best friends. I attend a life-giving church that loves me BECAUSE of my imperfections. I am also pursuing my Doctorate in Rural Education with an emphasis on teacher mental health. It is my little way to fight for and serve those like me.
Submitted by: Mary Grace
This is such an awesome example of how sharing your story can connect you with someone you'd otherwise probably never know you had anything in common with.
When I received this story, I remember reading it and thinking how many things we had in common. Anxiety, feeling that I'm never enough, struggling to make friends growing up, death... These were all things I was all too familiar with. But then as I finished reading and looked to see who this person was, I realized it was the vice-principal at my oldest sons school. Someone I see so often and have had meetings with never knowing we share so many of the same sorrows and struggles.
I am so thankful and honored you shared your story Mary Grace. Thank you for being brave and vulnerable and I have no doubt that no matter what life gives you...But God.
Love and lemons,
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The bed was covered with clothes, souvenirs, bottles of shampoo and shower gel, toys, power cords, and shoes. It was time to go home and time to pack. Our trip to Canada had been wonderful and we’d collected the inevitable restaurant cups, ticket stubs, and toys we couldn’t buy in the UK. The bed was covered, and so we had to finish before we could sleep.
This is my husband’s sneaky way of forcing me to be organized. I’m one of those people who likes to squeeze every last drop of connection out of the in-person relationship before we have to return it to an online, email, facetime friendship from the other side of the world. But we still have to pack! The long trip back to England was ahead of us, and at the time we had three small children.
Our youngest was three years old but still able to somewhat help with luggage with his tiny Batman backpack. (You know, train them young!) Our son liked to have his companions, Bunny and Bear, with him when he slept. Bunny was carefully placed in the miniature backpack for the overnight sleep on the plane. But, since Bear was a little rotund (I think he’d eaten one too many Tim Horton donut holes whilst in Canada), he had made the “choice” to ride home in the hold luggage. We had assured our little boy the hold luggage was right below where we sat, and Bear would be just fine tucked away in the big suitcase.
It took some creative storytelling and a lot of persuasion, but Bear was placed with great care in the big suitcase, with some shirts wrapped around him for extra comfort. It would be less than 24 hours until they would be reunited. It was all fine. The trip home was uneventful and there was even the bonus of a few hours of sleep on the ride home. However, the baggage collection was a lot more eventful. There was one bag that didn’t arrive and yes, you’ve guessed it, it was the bag where Bear was “sleeping”.
My husband and I looked at each other with horror. The airline promised to deliver the bag to our home the next day, but we both knew this news would not placate a tired, grumpy toddler when it came to bedtime and Bear was still “on holiday”. And bedtime came. If you’ve ever been around a jet-lagged preschooler, you know this story has an uncomfortable, loud, snotty end. To be honest, some of the snotting might have come from me as I tried, through tears of frustration, without success, to calm our little chap with one of the hundred other stuffed animals he had on his shelf. But no, he needed Bear. He behaved as if Bear was the single most important stuffed toy, he had ever laid eyes on. That night even Bunny was rejected.
To cut a long and harrowing story short, there was a night of fitful and broken sleep. Bear was returned the next day and bedtime started at about 4 pm…for everyone! We learned a couple of valuable lessons on that trip. If the stuffed pal was too big for the carry-on luggage, he became the stuffed buddy who stayed home to “look after all the other soft toy friends”.
I also learned I am a little bit like my youngest son. How many times have I thrown a wobbly when that one thing I’ve put all my hope and comfort in is not there anymore? I have been like a squally toddler who “needed” the right job title, or the correct car. I have thrown a fit when the coziness of friendship was no longer available. I have lost my cool when the pleasure of a certain food group revealed itself as the enemy of my health.
I love my very old Winnie the Pooh toy, stuffed with wood shavings. He’s good friends with Bear these days. There is nothing wrong with soft toys, or good friends. But nothing outweighs the reassurance of an eternal relationship with a Heavenly Father. We are all traveling through life. Let’s be those who “pack” properly by filling the suitcases of our minds with His words, His ways, and His truths, before we ever venture out on any kind of travel. When life gives you travel, make sure you’ve packed properly.
As I was reading this for the first time, I was thinking as a Mom of 3 I can completely relate to almost every type of meltdown and laughed a little. But as I read on, I saw where Sharon was going with the story and my heart ached because I am guilty of looking for reassurance and comfort outside of God and His word. Did that glass of wine, cup of coffee, shopping trip, or gripe-fest with a good friend actually truly help? I mean maybe for the moment. But when I "pack" my mind with what God has to say about what I am going through, my baggage becomes lighter.
Find and follow Sharon here: https://www.61-things.com/
]]>That was from a recent Facebook post of mine which resulted in lots of other Mama’s commenting they too witnessed regression, increased behaviors and the overall mental anguish distance learning in the Spring caused their special needs child. But it also opened the door for quite a few direct messages asking, “What happened with Jack?” “Did we not have a good plan in place?” “Were your teachers and therapists not helpful?”
After much thought, I’ve decided to share his story.
When we left school on a Friday in March of the 2019/2020 school year, no one could have predicted we’d not step foot in the building again. First the plan was we would go back on Monday but close Thursday through the end of the following week because that week would be our Spring Break. But by mid to late weekend, we would end up being closed the entire 2 weeks.
We made the best of those first 2 weeks. I wasn’t too worried about him falling behind at this point. We read, we played math and card games, lots of outdoor time like jumping on the trampoline and swinging. Honestly, the hardest thing at the time was explaining to him that we wouldn’t be taking our annual Spring Break trip to the Smoky Mountains. A tradition he loves and we’ve kept up since he was in kindergarten. At this point his anxiety was starting to spike because I just didn’t know what to tell him anymore. And after days and days of always being “wrong” as to when he would actually get to go back to school, he was showing me in his own way that he didn’t trust what I said anymore. And so his behaviors began.
Let me first be very clear here. We had an awesome distance learning plan. I had educated myself with information from his attorney. I had researched what other schools were doing. I know and understand his rights and paid close attention to the guidance coming down from both the state and federal departments of education. I did all.the.things. He had a wonderful team who worked very hard for him. I just KNEW that we were going to rock this “homeschool” thing. I mean he enjoyed working with me on things before this at home learning became “official” so we should be good! He would have face to face access to a teacher or therapist every day, sometimes twice a day, via different platforms, in order to feel like he was having class or a therapy session. His workload didn’t seem to be too overwhelming. I mean I had color coded folders and everything ya’ll! We were ready!
I kept saying over and over to everyone on his team that he just couldn’t, in his mind, separate home and school. We all kept thinking as long as we were consistent, things would get better. Then the screaming started. The endless yelling, mostly my name over and over. The screaming was unbearable and at one point lasted almost 6 hours one day. Then came the aggression.
He has always had aggression and severe anxiety. We have a behavior plan at school, and we have been on medication since the summer after kindergarten. The difference here was that he was aggressive and on edge almost daily. As far as aggression, his behaviors included hitting his younger siblings in the head, hitting, scratching and kicking me, biting me, stabbing himself and me with pencils, throwing objects, breaking things in his room, and banging on the walls (the banging on the walls would go on for long periods of time.)
His anxiety was absolutely out of control. I blame myself for part of it because even though I tried so hard to keep things as consistent as possible, things sometimes would change at the last minute. I felt like he relied on me to be able to assure him of his schedule (which is super comforting to him) but would often be confused and frustrated when things didn’t go as planned. Maybe it was an assignment wasn’t loaded yet, or we had to move the time of a therapy session. There were days where he would repeat the same question hundreds…HUNDREDS (I’ve counted) of times. I would give him the answer and he would immediately repeat his question. Sometimes I would say, “Jack, what do you think? What do you think the answer is?” He would give the correct answer and ask again. I would hear him asking and repeating the answer to himself. This went on almost every day. He bit his nails. His cuticles. But the worst part was he started pulling and scratching the skin off his arms. He would pick his skin until a sore was made and just continue to pick until he bled. I would try so hard to keep them covered but he would rip the bandages off and pull off the scab and start again.
Jack's scars from picking and pulling his skin.
I was in such denial and honestly such disbelief by what I was seeing and experiencing that any day that was even remotely “calm,” I would convince myself that things weren’t that bad…maybe it’s just me…tomorrow will be even better I bet… But they weren’t. And often times the situation would be worse than before, but again, we would have one good day and I would convince myself once more that things were okay.
We saw his psychiatrist and made adjustments to his medications. It was only then when I was forced to retell all that had been happening; when I had to actually say out loud what had been going on; when I had to admit that he was indeed a threat or causing harm to himself and others; that he had been hurting himself…did I fully grasp how terrible things were for him and how much of a toll quarantine and distance learning had taken on his mental health.
Once distance learning was over and we started in person instruction for ESY (extended school year) the behaviors improved drastically. He has even made progress on goals we have set for the upcoming school year. I am very proud of him! We still struggle and we still have rough days but nothing like how things were in March through May. I have seen new behaviors and we are working through them, and a lot of behaviors resurfaced that once had been extinguished. I am hopeful that even though school will look a little different this year, that things will continue to improve once we are back in his routine again.
I just want you to know how important your child’s mental health is. I am not new to Autism, meltdowns, anxiety, medications, behavior plans, aggression, or anything related to his diagnoses. I have over a decade of experience in those areas. I am however new to virtual/distance learning, self-harming, and watching my child’s mental health deteriorate.
My child doesn’t do social media, Facetime and phone calls with friends, Fortnite with peers, spend the night parties, or anything like that. He still loves toys that he played with when he was 5 years old (he’s 13.) School is his lifeline. His social connection. He loves seeing his friends and saying, “Hi,” playing basketball in the gym with his buddies, singing to everyone in his class and making funny Snapchat pictures with his paraprofessional. He isn’t alone in that many special needs children are the same way.
This isn’t a political post about whether schools should or shouldn’t open this Fall, although I certainly have my opinion on that matter, this is simply a personal experience piece. I felt so alone in our situation. But here’s the thing, you aren’t crazy for feeling super overwhelmed, because I know I was. You aren’t imagining things when you are thinking something, “just isn’t right with my child,” because I know I thought that. It isn’t your fault that he/she didn’t or can’t tolerate virtual learning, because I certainly blamed myself. It’s okay to ask for help. It’s okay to tell your IEP team that something isn’t working or request additional help/services (know your child’s rights!) It’s okay to take a break.
My child is amazing and is my mini me.
For 5 years I didn’t date. I was untrusting of course. Then coronavirus hit.
I was working 99 hours a week, with my “work husband”, and we spent an hour before and after work together for some normalcy. I ended up pregnant, and so happy.
Then..the bad news.
We named her Kya from our favorite book, Where the Crawdads Sing, because of the quote “nature had protected her when no one else would”.
I wanted to share this story to remember my beautiful baby, Kya Rose McCugh.
Submitted by: Jenny
Thank you Jenny for sharing your story about sweet Kya. I pray for peace and healing for you in the days to come.
Love and lemons,
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I am full of stories but there is a story of my life I wanted to share that no one knows and will never know. My parents, husband, best friends, and sister don't know this. Many seasons came and went, many opportunities came and left to submit stories, but it never happened. I couldn't find the courage to share this but today I want to say it for the sake of not taking this to my grave.
He was 15 years old. It happened twice. Not only me, I saw him molest my younger sister that same week and I watched it happen. She was only 7 years old. My brother was always and still is a protector of me. We had a beautiful childhood together. We played a lot. We spent a lot of time together.
A few years ago, my dad and my brother had a huge argument. My brother revealed that he was sexually molested by my dad's friends for years. He blamed my dad for not creating a safe environment in the house. Growing up, we used to have lot of people come over to our house and chill. Lots of my dad's friends used to hang out with us. My dad was always busy with work, but he is a generous man. He used to let his friends stay over, eat food with us or hang out if they needed a place to stay.
My parents married very young and had kids really young too. So, all these friends were in their 20s or early 30s. Unmarried/childless bunch of men hanging around in our house. My mom was just busy in the kitchen all day long and my dad busy at work. This gave these men room to abuse.
I think it was my stare that made him stop what he was doing mid-way. I ended up telling my family years after and put that incident behind me. But the argument between my dad and brother left my whole family in shock. My brother was molested for years and by multiple people. But finally, after years, my brother got his peace by sharing it, but I was still stuck without my peace.
My dad's friend molesting me didn't cause me pain and heartache because he was an evil man.
But I can't hate my brother and what he did hurts my soul. We are a close-knit family. My brother is very close to us. He is happily married and has kids.
We never talked about what happened as if it never happened. Why did he do what he did? Did he do this to me because someone else did it to him? Did he think it was okay to do this? He wasn't an adult either. He was a teenager, but he should have known this is wrong. Why did he do it?
I will never get my answers… I forgave him long time ago and I especially forgave him after finding out what happened to him. But no one can know my story because things will never be the same. We came far away and far from what happened to us. Now, we act like nothing even happened.
Submitted by: Anonymously
It is such a privilege to have you share your story here with me. And an honor to be entrusted with it. I pray for peace over you and your family. I pray for healing in your heart and mind. And know that you are always loved here.
]]>As you move through life, persevering through the most difficult scenes, you are redeeming yourself and your story again and again. You are failing and reshooting the acts. As the credits roll, do you ever wonder if anyone even saw your shining moment? If you are like most people, you probably think your everyday victories go unnoticed. But it doesn’t matter if your redemption breaks the box office or goes straight to DVD, someone is going to see it, connect with it, and use its power to break their own chains.
You are so patient and kind with your little girl. You wonder if anyone knows how hard you’ve worked to get to this point. You doubt it. All the tears and setbacks. All the sleepless nights. It’s worth it though. She is finally making a little progress. It’s not like you need a pat on the back or anything, but it would be awesome if someone could relate.
She sees you. The first time was in carline, smiling and helping your special needs daughter out of the car. She knew something was different about her and wondered if maybe she was the same as her son. You also went on the class field trip. She wanted to approach you, but her son was the one screaming and holding his ears. Her hands were full, and her heart was heavy. Maybe next time. All she knows is that she wants to be like you. She wants to help her son the way you helped your daughter. Because of you, she whispers to her son that their story will look different…their alternate ending starts today. Because of you she has a hope she didn’t have before.
You walk into work a free woman. Finally, he is gone. The curtain has closed on your personal horror movie and you swear you will never land the lead in another one again. You glance in the lobby mirror and wonder if anyone will notice the extra makeup you have covering his last goodbye. It doesn’t even matter. He is gone and today will be the first scene in the love story of yourself.
She sees you. She is wearing the same makeup as you. As you sit down with your lunch, she circles the cafeteria hoping to find a seat within earshot of where you are. Why? Because behind those dark eyes there is something different. A glimmer like you have a secret you are dying to share. She discretely leans in as you divulge everything to your closest coworkers. Suddenly your story is a moving picture show as you reveal every detail of how you finally left him. How you are safe, and he will never hurt you again. With a tear rolling down her face, she throws her lunch away and with fierce determination leaves to pack her own bags. Because of you she has a hope she didn’t have before.
Your therapist thought it would be helpful to start documenting your journey with anxiety and depression. “Write it down,” she said. “It’ll help you to get your thoughts out on paper.” You contemplate and decide that maybe writing a blog might help with accountability. Even if no one reads it, just the thought that someone might be waiting on pins and needles each week to see what you have to say is just the right amount of pressure. No one reads blogs anymore. But each week you write your story. You set the stage and move the characters through the acts. No reviews. No critics. Just you and your voice. Each week things get a little easier. Each week you share everything…even the deleted scenes. This might not be helping anyone else, but it’s helping you.
She sees you. Her friend shared your post weeks ago and she’s been following along since. She doesn’t comment or say anything, but she is there. “It’s like reading the story of my life,” she thinks every time she reads your posts. She feels everything that you share. At first, she noticed how sad and dark your posts were, and some days they still are, but she sees that overall you seem a little happier. She’s excited you found someone who understands you. She’s proud that you talk so openly about your medications, your therapy, and the difficult times. She’s happy that there are more good days than bad days for you right now. Her parents are grateful that because of you she flushed the pills down the toilet and checked herself in. Because of you she has a hope she didn’t before.
Regardless you are in control of every scene. You have the capability to break the chains that are binding you to a tragic finale. You can choose to free yourself from the burden of all the emotions holding you down. The decision to redeem your story, and possibly save someone else, lies solely in your hands. And when the curtain falls, they all will have been watching.
Love and lemons,
]]>We all face obstacles in our journeys, and we all have the choice of how we respond to them. When we take responsibility for ourselves, we are free to create a NEW path forward. I am truly a testament to all of the above. My life, my success, my reality should have been different based on where I came from.
A broken home…I grew up with no mom and no dad. My basic needs weren’t met. I was a foster kid – and experienced everything that went along with that stigma. I didn’t get tucked in at night with a bedtime story and kiss on the forehead. I didn’t get family dinners and Christmas trees full of presents beneath them.
At 14 – I was completely on my own. I didn’t go to high school. I didn’t go to college. I fought hard just to survive.
Yet here I am, at the top of my game, at a major corporation – successful in ways I never dreamed possible, yet always knew would be in my future.
There’s not just one path.
The definition of who you are on paper…doesn’t determine your path forward. If you were to look at my life – on paper – it would seem as though the only option for me would have been a life on the streets. But my upbringing, or lack thereof, gave me the skills needed to thrive in my professional role today. Because of that, I am passionate about helping others learn how to chart their own path and turn their liabilities into the exact things that propel them forward.
From early on, I had to get creative in order to survive. The fact that I did life on my own, that no one was there to lead the way for me, forced me to be resourceful. I had no backup plan and only two options – be brave and try, or call it quits and give up. I wasn’t going to quit. Courage was the only choice I could make. So – I took risks. I said yes before I was ready. I worked harder than anyone else out there. Because I had to. There was no one coming to save me. It was on me to make things happen, so, I did. I took the windiest road, learned how to adapt at the drop of a dime, and developed the hacks necessary to make up for my gaps in education. Today, I am able to cut through the red tape and make the hard decisions.
Today at Toshiba, my role is focused heavily on communicating with our clients, with my team, and bridging the gap between HQ and our field teams. I have to come up with the solutions our people want and need, and I have to be able to communicate in ways that benefit both my company and the people we serve. My high-risk upbringing honed my communication skills in some pretty interesting ways – if I wanted something, I had to ask for it. I didn’t have the formal training and education on how to speak perfectly and close a deal. So, I learned by watching, by researching, by reading, by listening, and by practicing on my own. That real-life training, that ability to understand people, has propelled my career forward and helped me connect with my partners, and with our clients in ways that have exponentially grown our company while enhancing people’s lives.
To say I had problems growing up would be a huge understatement. There was always something to solve. And usually, I had very few resources to solve the problems that would arise. This made me creative. It made me think outside the box. It made me listen to the world around me and pay attention to the things most people never notice. Solving problems wasn’t a luxury growing up – it was a necessity.
Today, my job is to creatively solve the problems our clients face. What was once a necessity is now one of my greatest strengths and most profitable assets.
I’ve accomplished a lot in my life. A lot. And while my childhood may appear to be a list of liabilities and things that would stand in my way – I decided early on that nothing would stop me from creating a life that looked entirely different than the one I grew up in. I am an unlikely candidate. I don’t have the golden touch. I simply have an extreme desire to make this all meaningful – for myself and for those in similar situations. I made daily decisions to allow the “liabilities” in my life become the exact things that propelled me forward!
I truly believe that our greatest challenges can be the fuel to our biggest successes. But every day it’s got to be a decision we make. We either survive and flourish – or we give up. I’m not a quitter. So, for me, the choice has always been obvious.
What “liabilities” of yours are actually what’s made you successful at what you do?
Submitted by: Maegan Lujan
Wow! I think this has to be my favorite submitted story this year. What an awesome story of turning lemons into lemonade. Thank you Maegan for sharing your success story. I can't wait to see what else life has in store for you!
If you would like to learn more about Maegan check her out here: Website Instagram or Facebook
]]>So, when my fiancé proposed, I was grateful that these people were so kind and willing to help me with the preparations! I mean, who wouldn’t be? I wasn’t alone in this crazy wedding thing, I felt accepted into this group of ladies and, for a little while, it felt nice to have all eyes on me.
I got so caught up in wanting to do all of this with my friends and my future mother in law, I never stopped to think about how I’m emotionally stringing myself along. I was so jaded by the shiny dresses, the elegant venues and the company throughout the process. I didn’t take the time to think about who I was spending all of this important time with. I was so selfish in not wanting to be alone, that I chose to surround myself with people that didn’t really make me happy. Yes, they can be kind people, but they aren’t who I SHOULD have surrounded myself with, at the time.
But why?
Why am I telling you all of this? Why does it matter? Because I didn’t value myself enough to try to enjoy the process of planning my wedding. Whether alone or with others.
We were struggling, as a couple, because I would obsess and want to always talk about the wedding, and he didn’t feel the same way. It got to the point that I was overwhelming and stressing him out, therefore causing him to avoid the wedding topic.
You see, I have been wanting a baby for a long time (a decade now) and it has yet to happen. I was trying to fill this “void” with other “things” to focus on, but they never worked or lasted long. I was jealous and wanted things I didn’t have, such as a baby or a lavish wedding. So, my mind was fixated on babies or the wedding and man…that was one of the most difficult years of my life. I was either complaining that I wasn’t pregnant, my fiancé and I were constantly arguing or he didn’t want to be involved with the wedding but he wanted to have his voice heard but CHOSE to not be involved with any of the planning. (I bet you’re already annoyed and exhausted from just reading this, right?) I was no longer a joy to be around. I found myself at gatherings and I would talk babies or the wedding to just about anyone who would listen.
It began at the beginning of our engagement. There was constantly an issue along the way. I went with his mother to my very first bridal show, here in Louisville. I was ecstatic to be going with her, as we were close and, I felt, we had a good relationship! Boy did that day flip on me and quick! It ended up being a disaster ultimately leading to her being asked to leave, which in turn resulted in me having to leave.
My mother was supposed to come visit and help with wedding related things but one thing after another prevented her from doing so and I was resentful. Both of us were working full time so, planning a wedding across the country was difficult with both of our schedules and a 2-hour time zone difference. Yet, with all of the technology we have today, it should not have been this difficult to collaborate and work with me. I felt that my wedding was not a priority for her and that she was simply “going through the motions” because she had to. She came to Louisville for a few days in August and again in September, for just over a week leading up to the wedding. I was excited and hoping for a different visit! I was wrong… again.
During one of my mother’s visits I was finally able to get both my mother and future mother in law to go with me to do wedding things as they both were in town and it was nice! Well, when they weren’t teaming up on me anyways… At that point I stopped asking them to help me with anything wedding related.
I’d stopped by my mother’s hotel room that morning and she said she’d meet up with us at the venue. I never reached out to my future mother in law because I thought she was trying to do things at home, with/for my fiancé or that she would, at some point, meet up with us at the venue to help with things and get ready.
My mother randomly showed up throughout the morning but, did nothing to help set up the venue or to help me. She left to grab breakfast and disappeared a couple times after that but didn't remain on site until she returned with her clothing and makeup to get ready for the festivities. My future mother in law showed up with my future father in law, so I didn’t get to see her until the ceremony.
I should have trusted myself and not included them as much as I did and a lot of this would not have been an issue.
I was disappointed because I’d given them that power over me. I was the one punishing myself. Or so I thought.
Submitted by: Anonymous
Thank you for being brave and sharing your story.
The t-shirt that best represents this story is our #whenlifelove tee.
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So while most of this may seem boring, it's just what's happening in our little section of the world.
Day 1
Monday, March 16, 2020
This morning was pretty hectic in trying to figure out everything and wrap our heads around what is happening. While we knew a few days ago that schools would be closing on Wednesday for 2 ½ weeks, we just found out last night that the closure date will be moved up to today. We are officially out of school now for 3 weeks.
My heart truly goes out to those scrambling for childcare on such short notice.
Scarlett’s first season on soccer has been postponed, as well as Carter’s Cub Scout meetings. Those cute bright pink cleats will just have to wait.
One blessing is that I now have more time to help care for my Mom. She had a very large diaphragmatic hernia repair on Friday, March 13th and will most likely require up to 3 months to recover. Right now, she is unable to move very well so cooking, cleaning, errands, and caring for my 93-year-old grandmother (who lives with my parents) are all things I am helping with.
Day 1 of homeschool went as well as expected. Spent over 2 hours trying to find resources for Jack. The special needs students are severely overlooked during this time and I fear that it will get worse. At least from my experience. Now don’t get me wrong, I recognize that this is uncharted territory, and I understand that at this time nothing is “mandatory,” but I was a little shocked at the lack of resources provided when requested. Unfortunately, 3 weeks without special education and related services will be detrimental to Jack. I am so incredibly thankful for my sister and several friends who are special education teachers that stepped up to provide links and resources that would be a good fit for him.
Carter and Scarlett on the other hand have a ton of resources and their schools/teachers have been amazing in providing either lots of websites/apps and even packets of work. We practiced writing, reading their readers that they had brought home from school the week before, and a few other worksheets I found.
Jack and I attempted order of operations and I am pretty sure we are both confused now. It’s a goal in his IEP and thank God it is because he definitely was as lost as I was.
So. Many. Snacks. So. Much. Caffeine. I am afraid I am going to gain what will be known as the Corona 15!
Our neighboring county has a lot of cases of COVID-19 and officially shut down schools, daycares, restaurants, bars, and gyms. You can still get carry out and curb side pickup. Chris works in this county, so needless to say he is striping down and changing as soon as he gets home each night now.
After dinner, Chris cancelled our annual Spring Break trip to Gatlinburg. I am really sad about it. We haven’t missed a year in 10 years, and it is the kids favorite place. The kids don’t fully understand it all and the rationale behind why we aren’t going, but they took it like champs.
Day 2
March 17, 2020
There are now around 20 cases in our neighboring county.
Amazon is now limiting their deliveries.
We went first thing this morning to Scarlett’s school to pick up her work packet. I honestly teared up talking to the director. There is so much uncertainty and even though it has only been 1 day, 1 DAY, it feels like forever.
We went to my mother’s house and made sure they were okay before heading home to work on schoolwork. Reading, writing, St. Patrick’s Day crafts, bar graphs, and Moby Max were on the agenda. We are also loving the Pete the Cat story time on Instagram.
I am so incredibly thankful that the weather has held up long enough for the kids to get outside. If we are going to be forced to practice social distancing, at least it’s with nice weather!
Today was supposed to be Scarlett’s first soccer practice. Hopefully they are right about everything going back to normal the week of April 6th, but I’m just not sure.
There is continued stress and uncertainty with Chris’s job. I won’t go into too much details, but he will continue to work in his current job until the end of April unless something happens between now and then.
These 2 days have been pretty mentally draining. I feel like something bigger is going on here but just not sure what. Not necessarily politically, although I wouldn’t be shocked if there was. But more spiritually. It’s like God wants us to listen. To slow down. It’s like He is asking if we trust Him. Is this a test? Will we pass?
Day 3
March 18, 2020
The kids spent the first hour of this morning fighting over who will throw away a piece of garbage… It’s fine. We’re fine. Everything will be fine!
I spent a good bit of this morning helping my mom and grandmother. I helped with my grandmother’s bath, linens, laundry, etc. while the kids played with blocks and watched Pete the Cat story time again. I’m so thankful for this extra time that I've been given to care for the 2 ladies who cared for me most when I was younger. Perhaps this is why?
I find my myself searching for the “why” a lot today. And “how.” Just 1 week ago today shelves were stocked, kids in school, I was preparing for vacation, Scarlett was excited about soccer, and now, here we are.
There are 51 cases as I write this in Alabama.
Salons and barber shops shut down today. This will affect several friends of mine. I am so glad that I got the boys hair cut last week.
We did a little homeschool today. Math, reading, and writing. I am so blown away by how well Scarlett is doing with math. She is basically keeping up with Carter and his 1st grade math and she is in K4!
Jack is so incredibly confused and thrown off by all of this. He had a huge meltdown today when we couldn’t find his favorite Handy Manny episode on Disney+. He was screaming, hitting the walls and television, hitting me, throwing his toys, and trying to pinch me. I decided to go ahead and put him down for a nap early. After about an hour of thrashing in the bed, he finally fell asleep. When he got up, he was in a little better mood. We were able to work on telling time and reading later in the day. I feel confident today’s meltdown won’t be the last.
The weather has been so nice! The kids have been outside all day! Pollen is savage right now so if anyone sees Jack, it’s not the “rona” it’s just allergies!
No bread on the shelves anywhere.
Day 4
Thursday, March 19, 2020
We ventured out today. It was good for our mental health. The hoarders of the world apparently eat the same few foods as Jack does and as of right now, I haven’t had much luck finding what he likes. My sweet friend Jennifer was lucky enough to find several of his favorite meals! We did a money/food swap while still maintaining our 6 feet :)
CVS for meds. Starbucks drive thru. It was nice to have some normalcy.
We also filled our gas tank up juuuust in case.
Not a lot of “formal” homeschooling going on today. We did Pete the Cat story time again (the kids are obsessed and honestly the author is so relaxing to listen to,) outdoor scavenger hunts, and for Jack, a kitchen scavenger hunt. I also have him sorting laundry this week. Surprisingly with little pushback. This has been a great time to work on life skills with him. We also went to check on one of our neighbors who is recently widowed.
I also went to our local grocery store for my parents in hopes of finding bread. We haven’t been able to find any all week. I got the last loaf on the shelf.
I live in a very rural area with a lot of elderly individuals. It is absolutely heartbreaking to see them scattered throughout the store just standing and staring at empty shelves. Most of the “cheap” items gone. Most of their budgets slim.
There was (after my loaf) no bread left. No cleaning products, paper products, milk, and very little meat.
We are close to 60 cases now.
I wish I could say I’m holed up and relaxing, but the reality is I’m wearing a lot of hats right now. Between caring for mom and grandmother, my own family, homeschooling, desperately trying to make sure that Jack doesn’t fall behind, cleaning, cooking, and now basically scavenging multiple stores to find basic food items almost on a daily basis, exhaustion is setting in.
It’s a very strange place to be. This place between panic and peace.
Day 5
Friday, March 20, 2020
I woke up to see a news article stating that school closures may extend past April 6th, if we even go back at all. They mentioned school in the summer and while Jack would be totally fine with that (he’s used to getting services during the summer,) Carter understands summer break now and I’m thinking that will go over like a lead balloon.
My dad hit the lottery today by finally finding toilet paper! It only took 5 days…
We are rocking and rolling with homeschooling now. It’s definitely not perfect and next week we will try and have more of a schedule but it’s amazing how fast we have adapted.
Even though we had to cancel our vacation, Chris is still going to take off work next week. Hope the kids are up for Daddy school lol!
Day 6
Saturday, March 21, 2020
The natives are getting restless.
So many rumors of a national lockdown, possibilities of special education waivers (which if you don’t know is absolutely horrible for our special kiddos) and mounting fears for my business.
I just don’t know what will end up happening with When Life by the time all of this is finished.
The kids, especially Jack, are confused. He keeps asking when he will go back to school, if he is going to camp in May with his class, if it is time for summer camp yet… I have no answers for him. I see all these social stories floating around to share with your kids to help them understand, but it’s hard when as adults we don’t even understand. I have lots of questions myself.
I have so many friends who are out of work now.
Sometimes I forget it’s all happening. We are homebodies anyways, so that isn’t it. It’s the idea that there is nothing but basic survival outside these 4 walls right now. You can work (if you are deemed essential,) buy groceries or gas, get your medicines or visit the doctor, and possibly go to the hardware store. That’s it. Those are your options.
We have definitely taken advantage of being outdoors this week riding our bikes, jumping on the trampoline, and going on scavenger hunts. I’ve enjoyed the extra time with my family, and I hope everyone is taking advantage of this rare opportunity.
But it does feel strange. What are we to do except hold out hope, lean in, and pay attention to what God is trying to teach us during this time.
Day 7
March 22, 2020
COVID-19 cases are up to around 140 cases in Alabama now. Still none confirmed in our county, yet.
We have been playing lots of card games, puzzles, and watching Frozen II this weekend.
With groceries being scarce in the stores, and in an effort to stay out of the stores as much as possible, my parents and I are splitting meals when we can. On the menu tonight: I made a roast and veggies while she made peas and cornbread. We should consider doing this more often!
I also baked today, and I am pretty sure that will be something I end up doing a lot of during this time. You know us Southerners, in times of stress and crisis, we cook!
Chris and I were talking today about how life is kinda similar to when we grew up. I think part of this adjustment is shifting the mentality and lifestyle we have all grown accustomed to; that we can get whatever we want when we want it, that we have an overabundance of choices, and we are constantly “on.” We can’t just order what we want when we want it right now. We have to make every trip out count. Kids are home with their families, disconnected from the world for the most part and out from under the pressure and scrutiny of their peers, because those same peers are home with their families. It honestly is very close to our childhoods. Maybe this is just what we need right now.
Day 8
March 23, 2020
It’s been a slow and rainy day today.
Same virus, new verse.
We kept busy with puzzles, movies, and trying to keep Jack from exploding. He struggled today with not being able to get out of the house. We did get out to visit and help my parents, but not being able to play outside sent him over the edge. Which sent the 2 littles over the edge. Which sent us over the edge.
We’re fine. Everything is fine.
Send help!
And wine.
Day 9
March 24, 2020
There are now currently over 200 cases in Alabama with almost 100 in our neighboring county.
My kids are acting like they’re the government with their ridiculous demands. The government is acting like my kids and everyone is getting on my nerves.
The end. I’m over it.
P.S – We had science day today and learned about germs. Scarlett drew a butt as something that is “dirty.” We also made homemade puffy sidewalk paint which essentially was the highlight of my day.
Day 10
March 25, 2020
Almost 400 cases statewide now and we have our first official case in Blount County. We also had our first COVID-19 related death in Alabama as well.
Last night City of Birmingham initiated "shelter in place." Considering that almost everything is closed anyways, the biggest way this affects people is having a curfew in place. As a teenager, I would have hated this, but as an adult...any "law" that says I have to be home by dinner is, well, one I can get behind!
I made my first Walmart grocery shopping trip today, and it was just as tortuous as I remember it being 2 years ago. I haven't actually shopped for groceries there since online pickup, and yep, I don't miss it. People have slowed down their eating it looks like, as the shelves were pretty well stocked. However, most are still struggling with GI symptoms and filth, as those shelves were quite bare.
As I went through the store, I saw for myself, firsthand, the little elderly strolling the aisles trying to find what they need. I wonder after all they have seen and experienced in their lifetime, what they truly think of all of this? I wonder what my granddaddy would think?
Day 11
March 26, 2020
How much is Jack's life worth. I can't even believe that is a question that I'm pondering today as I read the Alabama of Department of Health - Criteria for Mechanical Ventilator Triage Following Proclamation of Mass-Casualty Respiratory Emergency. It states, "Children with severe neurological problems may not be appropriate candidates in the pediatric group." Says who? Jack is a 13 year old, vibrant, healthy, happy, and smart little man that deserves the same chance at life that any other person does. His life matters. All life matters. And God help the person that ever tries to tell me different. You can read the document here.
We found out today that Alabama schools will be closed the remainder of the year, but that learning will continue (or restart in our case) for all students. I am so incredibly happy that our governor addressed the special needs student population. I have seen counties take a very proactive, good faith initiative in continuing learning these past weeks and I have seen some settle in with the "learning is optional" approach. I have had severe anxiety over which approach the state as a whole would embrace and I am so happy to hear that IEPs and 504 plans will be upheld. I understand that is going to be a huge learning curve for everyone, but I am confident that when educators and parents work together creatively, great things can happen!
P.S - That puffy paint we made the other day...is a pain in the a$$ to clean...
Day 12
March 27, 2020
Jack struggled today. His allergies have been so bad this week, so this morning I wouldn't let him play outside. He had quite the meltdown over it. It's bad enough he's confused about school and not being able to go anywhere, but to not even be able to play outside was enough to tip him over the edge.
The state is up to almost 600 cases now, so the governor is mandating all nonessential businesses statewide to close tomorrow evening.
I did a lot of research on different distance learning ideas for Jack for when school restarts on April 6th. I. Am. A. Nervous. Wreck.
Day 13
March 28, 2020
It feels like Groundhogs Day but with more activities...
Day 16
March 31, 2020
I haven't kept up this journal for the past 2 days as we enjoyed Chris' last day of vacation and then transitioning into a new routine (again.) We have one more week before we officially move to online/distant learning and I'm nervous about what that will look like for Jack and how he will handle so much working from home. Home has always been his safe zone. The place he can fall apart. Sure, I am always trying to teach him something in his natural environment, but it's not the same. All I can do is pray and hope for the best.
Carter and Scarlett are really handling things a lot better than I ever imagined as far as keeping themselves occupied. School however...they both have been expelled twice for talking back to the principal, and have spent a great deal of time in detention for refusing to complete their work.
The only place to go from here is up, right?
There are well over 900 cases statewide now. All nonessential businesses shut their doors Saturday evening. But honestly, there are still a good bit of people out and about. I had to run an errand yesterday and seeing as how that was my first day out in almost a week, I was surprised by the traffic. Ya'll stay home! I want out of time out!
Is it too much to hope that I will wake up tomorrow and this be one big April Fools joke?
Day 17
April 1, 2020
It's April Fools Day and this is not a joke.
Day 20
April 3, 2020
We had our meeting this afternoon to discuss Jack's distance learning plan for the rest of the school year. I have had the absolute worst anxiety over this entire situation. It's not the kids being here all day with nowhere to go or even me being their new "teacher," but rather the fear of Jack falling so behind. I have made myself sick over it. But back to the meeting...overall I think it went well and I am excited to get started on Monday.
This evening the governor issued a shelter in place for the entire state. It is supposed to start tomorrow at 5PM. I need groceries. Like just regular groceries and I am pretty sure everyone will lose their minds and start hoarding and panic buying again.
Reality has really settled in that we won't be seeing our family for Easter or Carter's birthday and I am sad about it. I am so over this entire situation.
Day 21
April 4, 2020
I went to Walmart this morning super early and just knew I would beat the crowd. I did not beat said crowd and it was like Black Friday, grocery style. People have lost their minds.
Day 23-27
April 6 - 10th, 2020
This was our first week of distance learning/homeschool and honestly I wasn't sure on Monday if we would survive the first week.
Monday started off crazy, unorganized, and being absolutely clueless as to where to start or how our days would like. Jack's anxiety was through the roof because every time I would promise him we would work on a certain task or subject, SOMETHING would go wrong and plans would change. And if you know Jack, plans changing isn't his idea of a good time.
But each day got a little better. We slowly found our groove. We had a few bumps in the road like changing speech therapists in the middle of the week, a few sessions moved around, and one epic meltdown for Jack over not being able to visit his Dad this weekend, we made it!
Jack's behaviors have been pretty difficult this week and I think a lot of it comes from his life having been completely shaken up. I truly believe he compartmentalizes things and is having a difficult time understanding school at home. You just aren't supposed to have school at home. Home is play and rest. School is work. You just don't combine the two.
Praying that each week gets easier!
Day 28
April 11, 2020
Today we celebrated Carter's 7th birthday. His actual birthday is Wednesday, but Daddy is home today so we partied it up (quarantine style that is.)
I am sad he missed out on bringing cupcakes to school to celebrate with his friends. I'm sad that there was no big pizza party with family and lots of presents. I'm sad that he can't go spend his birthday money on something ridiculous and unnecessary. And it's okay to grieve over those things. Are they silly things to be upset over? Yes. Will we all forget that we felt like this and move on from it? Of course. But those were things he always looks forward to, and he's just 6 (going on 7) trying to figure out why his world is suddenly so different.
But honestly, Carter has handled this whole birthday on lockdown like a champ! Chris and I tried our best to make it as fun as possible for him! We celebrated our little man by dyeing Easter eggs, having a big bonfire complete with hot dogs and s'mores, then ended the night with a Red Power Ranger birthday cake and presents! It was the first time for use to have a bonfire at our house. Chris now wants the same for his birthday in June :)
Surely this time will be a distant memory by June. Surely.
Day 29
April 12, 2020
Today is Easter Sunday. The buildings and the churches may be empty, but so is the tomb.
I miss spending Easter with my family. No Easter dinner this year (honestly my mental health can't take another trip to the grocery store.) We didn't take pictures this year because we spent the day celebrating Carter's birthday yesterday and the weather is supposed to be bad today. But we did have the Easter Bunny visit! And we hid eggs for the kids and ate way too much candy. We talked about the importance of today with the kids and are celebrating the joy of Christ's resurrection! He is risen!
And just to keep things interesting, we ended the day with tornado warnings! We are so thankful for God's protection.
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Just two years ago I started creating and building this dream life I’d always wanted. After losing my job unexpectedly I was so lost in what my purpose was. I was devastated. Shocked. Embarrassed. I never thought that would happen to me. I’ve always had a plan, and I can tell you unemployment wasn’t in my plans.
I immediately started looking for another job. But none of the opportunities either paid enough or gave me the flexibility or leadership I desired. For 6 months I worked a million different kinds of “jobs” to just earn some money. I used my network. I dipped my toes into freelancing, and it gave me the confidence to aspire to do this full time.
I ended up accepting a new full-time job, and my plan was to work that job, build up my business for a year and then feel confident to do it full time. But God loves to laugh at our plans #amiright?
The day after I launched my first business, Fast Follow Co, the CEO called me into her office and told me I either had to take my website down or I couldn’t work there anymore.
I was scared to death. I had just been out of a job for 6 months, what was I thinking?
I was thinking of me. And my future. And it was the push I needed. I hated that corporate job I took anyways. I was micromanaged to no end. Scolded if I was 10 mins late, without considering I stayed an hour extra the day before. The pay was 20% less than I made in my last corporate job. Plus, the work just plain sucked. I wanted flexibility. Freedom in my time and hours and days off. I wanted to be responsible for my success. My growth. Not an “annual review” or standard salary increments. While it was the scariest thing I’d ever done; it was WORTH IT.
I can’t imagine not having taken that leap. While I’ve learned A LOT over the last two years, I’m better for it. I launched another business working specifically with entrepreneurs as an online business manager, and I now am aiming to make multiple 6 figures this year.
I love my clients. I love the flexibility I have. I love the freedom this lifestyle has given me. I love continuously learning, growing and challenging myself to grow to that next level. I’m confident I’m building my legacy. And while it’s taken grit, determination and a whole lot of faith, I’m so thankful and grateful for the journey.
Whatever it is you desire in this life, go after it. You’re the only one responsible for the change. You’re the only one who can create the life you’ve always wanted. Don’t wait. Don’t let fear stop you. I promise you it’s worth it.
Submitted by: Katelyn Hamilton
Thank you Katelyn for sharing your awesome entrepreneurial journey! You can learn more about Katelyn here: https://www.katelynehamilton.com/links
]]>I feel like I need to preface this by saying that I love my husband very much. And I certainly hope that none of what I’m about to say implies otherwise. Being married to someone who has severe depression and anxiety can be very hard. It can be difficult to see someone you love and who you know is capable of so much think so poorly of themselves and are in a constant state of worry, stress, sadness, or any of the other many symptoms associated with it.
I knew when we were dating that he suffered from depression and anxiety. It’s not like I didn’t know or understand that his mental health would take a toll on our marriage.
This story isn’t to vent about frustrations or anything like that, but rather to share with you how challenging it is to have a spouse who has poor psychological health. Even though he sees a doctor and is on medication, it has not been the answer for all of it. We are still trying to find what will work best for him.
Being at work with people drains him and when he comes home, he doesn’t really like to talk. He isn’t much of a talker to begin with, so I often feel like I have no one to really share things with. He does listen but I often end up feeling like I am just talking “at” him. I like to talk so I just keep talking anyways but I know at the end of the conversation there will be no questions, no feedback, no interaction… I’m used to it now but if you have a friend in my position and they call, just let them talk. No one asks how my day was. Home can be a lonely place some days.
One thing about people with anxiety and depression is that they can sometimes feel so inundated with things that need to get done that they end up doing nothing. I usually do most everything at our house and take on the bulk of most of the responsibilities with the house and the kids. It’s not that I want to be an enabler, but I know that if I don’t do them, they absolutely won’t get done. When it comes to things that I physically cannot do, I typically have to ask him a lot in order to get them done. I used to feel bad about this but now understand that it’s just part of it all. Sometimes it’s because he has forgotten. Sometimes it’s because he honestly just has zero motivation, but I try and keep pushing him so that he sees that he has it in him to achieve and accomplish tasks if he will just start somewhere. The will to start is one of the biggest obstacles.
I know, I know, don’t compare yourself to others on the internet. Don’t look at other people’s highlight reels. I get it. I really do. But here’s the thing. I get sad when I see happy couples. Even if they are fake happy. The reason is because I know that there ARE truly happy couples out there. That is a real thing. I want us to be happy. I try and not base my happiness around whether he is happy or in a good mood but being married to someone who rarely truly laughs or smiles can affect your mood. Even when you make a conscious effort to not let it affect you, after so many years, I’m sorry it just does. I’ve read enough self-help books and motivational quotes to know “you are the one in charge of your own happiness.” But who cares for the caregiver?
So, for all those individuals who have a spouse who suffer with severe or debilitating anxiety and depression, just know your feelings matter and you aren’t a bad person for feeling frustrated, sad, or even angry some days. You aren’t a bad person for occasionally wishing things were different. No one understands unless they personally suffer from mental illness or live with someone who does.
Submitted: Anonymously
Thank you for this story. I don't think you are a bad person at all and as someone who is married to someone with depression and anxiety, I am grateful you shared. Your feelings DO matter and I'm thankful you felt safe to share your story here.
The t-shirt that pairs with this story is our #whenlifeheartbreak tee.
Love and lemons,
]]>We tried to have a baby for 8 long years with no success. We went to doctor's appointments after doctor's appointments. We spent thousands upon thousands of dollars and subjected ourselves to grueling hormone therapies. All with no positive results. We were sad, mad, and just tired when we decided to adopt.
This decision did not come easily.
We spent a lot of time in prayer and asked God to show us if we were making the right choice by giving us joy and clarity over our decision, and boy did He ever!
We went to a workshop on international adoption and five months later, on December 8, 1998, we were flying to Russia to get our beautiful Russian boy. His given name was Alexey Aleshun. We changed his name to William Carter after my grandfather and Steve's grandfather. We decided to call him Will because we always want to be reminded that he was God's will for our lives.
Will was 13 months old when we brought him home. He was severely delayed but otherwise perfect. Will was what we had prayed for. He was a precious child and had such a tribe that loved him. He was the missing piece. We felt satisfied and blessed. I remember when we were in Russia, I was praying. I respectfully asked God one question. I asked Him why he made me wait so long for this wonderful miracle. Several minutes went by until I heard the answer. He said, “I will gladly answer your question. You had to wait because William wasn’t born yet.”
One night I was cleaning out a bathroom cabinet when I stumbled on an old- old pregnancy test. I thought to myself, "Hey, what would happen if I tinkled on it?" So, I did. Stop here: I have had people ask me many times if I thought I was pregnant; if I suspected, and I can assure you, I didn't suspect anything. I was so irregular in my cycle that I never gave it much thought.
Boy, was I surprised when the thing stated "YES!” Let me rephrase that, boy was I angry when the thing stated "yes!” I screamed at my husband to get in the bathroom. I showed him and he hugged me and was so full of joy! What? He couldn't be! Wait! We couldn't be! I got myself together and reminded myself this test was years past the expiration and most likely a false positive. I went to the store and bought 5, yes 5 more, of the yes/no test. I took them all and they all said "yes".
The Holy Spirit revealed to me that His timing is perfect and that this was exactly His plan and His will for my life. I felt so much guilt over my first reactions. I couldn't believe how ungrateful I had been.
Thankfully the Lord showed me that my anger was really just fear. I had suffered disappointment after disappointment, and I think I was convinced that this would be the case again. After all, I had been told that it was impossible for me to conceive.
After three months, I started celebrating and we made the announcement. Our family and friends were thrilled, God had chosen us to be this baby's parents, and we were officially thrilled! We had a very uneventful pregnancy and an easy delivery. My doctor was amazed at the fact that I conceived a baby with my condition (the cause of my infertility that deemed me an impossible candidate.) I still have the condition, and it should be impossible for me to conceive. Women in my age bracket have a 1% chance of conception, and had you asked my doctor before, she would have told you it was impossible for me to have a baby.
Our baby girl is now 6 years old and she will proudly tell you her middle name is Alexey, her brother's Russian name at birth. He is the best big brother and she is the best little girl in the world (according to her daddy). I'm so thankful that God blessed me with two beautiful children. One through adoption and one through pregnancy. They are certainly two very different experiences but both with blessed outcomes. God is so good and I'm so thankful that His ways are not my ways and His timing is not my timing.
Submitted by: Kelly Winnett
Thank you Kelly for sharing your sweet story! This is a beautiful reminder of how God's plan is always better than the one we have for ourselves. It also reminds me of how faithful He is in the waiting.
The perfect tee for this story is our Hope tee!
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One of the largest shifts in my life that I am going through right now is starting school again. This is the second try at college for me as I had previously flunked out of the university I was going to. I had a lot of resentment and discouragement toward the whole situation. I felt like if the teachers cared more about the students than the paychecks they would have tried to help me more. I felt like it didn’t matter that previously I had been “awarded” scholastic competitiveness because I wasn’t in an area of entertainment. I felt jaded that someone who was likely a C average student, who also played a sport, got a large chunk of their tuition, if not all of it, given to them via scholarships because they were in the entertainment industry and that brings in money.
In my first semester I finished with over a 3.7 GPA and the academic competitiveness scholarship I was awarded was $200 which felt like a joke of “reward” for applying myself. That wouldn’t cover 1 credit at the university, let alone a book for a majority of the classes. The whole situation was discouraging because I let it discourage me. After a couple semesters, I kept flip-flopping between being an English major, or being a Communications major. I knew either one would help me find a decent job in the marketplace.
While English has always been one of my favorite classes, I just didn’t feel it was practical unless I wanted to be an author or to just have it on my resume. That’s also why I thought Communications would be a good major for me as well. Low and behold, when you don’t really feel passionate and compelled by something, it makes it a lot harder to care about.
After flunking out, it took some time, but I decided it was okay that I wasn’t in school because I felt I was wasting money on classes not knowing what I wanted to do.
When I was a teenager, one of the first times we were asked, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” I remember that the first time I answered that, I answered that I wanted to be a marine biologist. After taking terrible quizzes that tell you what you should have a career in based on your skills, personality, interests, etc., I never really came back to that thought.
I’ve spent the last few years thinking, “Maybe I should go for this or that because I will make a really good wage.” It wasn’t until earlier this year that something clicked for me. So here I am, getting ready to head to class and typing this out for you. I finally decided I wanted to go to school for a Biology major, to work along the lines of land and animal conservation.
Turns out I wasn’t far off from what I had thought I wanted when I was a kid. I love the outdoors and living in Idaho I think I’ve been more than blessed with all the wildlife and great scenery fairly close to home. I want to help preserve that and hopefully enhance and make it better. I think we’ve all been told something along the lines of, “Do what you love, and you’ll never work a day in your life.” I’ve also been told, “You have to choose your career before it chooses you.”
Ultimately, no matter what you do, what you do or don’t go to school for, it should make you happy. If you’re waiting for an opportunity to come to you, change your attitude and go grab your opportunity. If you’ve been waiting for a sign to help you decided if that thing- a job, a career, a side hustle, a degree- is something you should go for; here it is.
“You can ask the universe for all the signs you want. But ultimately, we only see what we want to see when we’re ready to see it.”- Ted Mosby, How I Met Your Mother.
Submitted by: Hailey Smith
I've actually been saving this story since September of 2019 because I thought it was the perfect story to start the new year. This year I wanted my focus on how important "ordinary" stories are. These are the stories the bind and weave us through the everyday. You see, your ordinary is someone's extraordinary because what seems insignificant to you may be another person's mountain. Won't you be their guide and share your story?
Thank you Hailey for sharing your story!
The perfect tee for this story is our #whenlifelemons tee.
]]>There's so much to unpack in a short span of time.
Church was a standard place for me to be. As a young child, much time was spent with my friends at church camps and Vacation Bible Schools. As I grew, I found ways to serve and teach the generations behind me. At the time I was too young to understand why, but the church where my foundation was constructed crumbled under the weight of some type of bickering and debate. Destruction of my childhood church didn't stop me. I sought any way I could to be in church as much as I possibly could be.
Too young to drive, I frequented the church on my block when my family stopped serving at church. A few years passed and my parents found a new church for us to attend. That's the church I called home for many years. The one to which I returned even after moving away to study ministry. However, despite my study of ministry and my time spent serving at a young age, some unexpected turns took me down roads I never thought I'd travel.
Not many knew it was there and that's just how I wanted it to stay. I'd serve at church and grow through reading my Bible all while popping off the path for a bit just to stumble through my struggles. It became my coping mechanism. My escape. My way to handle pain. Satan knew it was easy to pull me into the thick of his lies, if only for a little while, just to keep me from walking the path I was supposed to walk.
Through the years I found accountability partners and programs. Systems were put in place to keep me from straying off the path, but nothing seemed to pull me out of the depth of my addiction. For me it came from self-loathing and a belief that no one could forgive me for what I had been doing for so long so why even try to stop. Especially not God though, how could He forgive me?
At the time Celebrate Recovery was nothing but ministry in a church, yet I was living out one of its principles without even knowing. There was a time when my wife approached me to finally start a relationship, and yes, she approached me. That's a whole different story. But I knew that if I was to be a husband, I needed to get my addiction under control. I didn't want to enter a relationship only to give her this extra baggage. That was the moment I practiced Celebrate Recovery's principle 4, "Openly examine and confess my faults to myself, to God, and to someone I trust."
Finally, I found someone I trusted to confess it all in safety and there was healing in letting it out. Her forgiveness of my actions even though we hadn't officially begun our relationship is where I realized truly that God's grace is sufficient, even for me.
Nine years later in marriage I find myself over ten years clean. About six years ago now, my wife and I experienced a roller coaster of emotions wrapped in the ribbons and bows of the holidays. Joy is an integral part of the Christmas season, it's a time to celebrate Jesus coming as a baby, so how could we not share a joyous announcement of the coming of our firstborn? We glistened with hope and joy when we spread the news. However, the glistening of our joy quickly mucked up like a snow thrashed by the dirty tires on the road.
Chelsea and I agreed that Colvin would be a fitting name so that is what we named our first child who I am sad to say I haven't met. Despite the pain and confusion, I stood strong for my wife. I sought help for us to properly grieve and yet the counsel I found lacked wisdom. The counsel, in essence, shrugged off our pain when we were crying out for help. Instead of finding us a refreshing drink to quench the thirst of our pain, our counselor filled our cup with the melted mucky snow that dripped from the backs of tires. Needless to say, I chose to harbor this pain and hold it inside at that point.
Since then we have had a son and he is growing by leaps and bounds while keeping us on our toes at all times. He is God's gift and I enjoy his infectious personality and laughter. This little one can light up a room with such creative joy it's amazing to watch. However, there's still an anxiety of loss that comes around every corner when it comes to raising this young man. I've struggled through anger without even realizing it was a problem for the first few years of his life. God has opened my eyes to see that the next steps in recovery are letting go of the anger. I've had to come to a point where I'm no longer ashamed to ask for help. I'm no longer too proud. Men should have our emotions intact says the standard set by the crowd. If we can't control them, bury them, they say. Remove inclination that they once existed and stand firm and faceless as if that shows a leader worth following. No! No more! A father without emotional awareness eventually leads his children astray by not leading by example. People find ways to pour out what's inside and it's my job to lead by example.
Fast forward to our first home. Should be a great adventure with a few bumps, right? How about a Father’s Day flood? We came home to find over a foot of water filling our basement floor. A few days prior, we had just finished setting everything where we wanted to enjoy this house as a home. This set me deep into depression as another big hurdle. Why would this happen? How could we have purchased a house with such a huge problem? Thoughts crossed my mind that made me doubt God. I wondered how I could provide for our family to get through this situation. Guess what, I can't. But God can.
It was hard to see but God has used this to teach me tough lessons of trust and faith. Our house has become a house of prayer. Still today I struggle to set things up though. I fear if I finish a project it will immediately come to ruin. If I announce a joyful happening in my life, I'll be left void of the joy it was to bring. Hope is found in Christ and I do anchor myself in Him.
He never promised life would be easy. He did promise to be with us. It's in the storms of life where I've found whether or not I'm anchored. When the storm ends, am I still praising Him, or have I drifted so far away that no one would know I was once close to Him? These examples are some honest life events that brought doubt into my heart. I started to step away from God and lift my anchor to the point that I drifted slowly away. Where once I served others to see them grow closer to God, I found myself hardened and refusing to serve.
For a season I didn't care about church or Christ. But God opened a door for service that just couldn't be rejected. It was right up my lane to work with students through life's hurts, hangups and habits. Little did I know God was using the ministries of Celebrate Recovery and The Landing to help me grow through my pains.
For those who don't know, the Landing is Celebrate Recovery for high school students in grades 7 through 12. Since addiction is another part of my past, I thought that's how I could help these teens in their various hangups to bring them into healthier relationships with Christ, others and themselves. But I've come to find recovery is so much more than the stigma of addiction. Recovery is for pain, anxiety, anger, grief, people pleasing and so much more.
God has taken me on a path I didn't expect to walk. Each step down the road of recovery opens my eyes to struggles I didn't even realize needed addressed. But for that I'm immensely grateful as I've been reminded to anchor myself in Christ again. It's in returning back into service and leadership where I've found a healing because of the nature of the ministry I've stepped into. Not that my identity is found in what I can do for others, but rather what Christ has done and is doing in my life.
I'm starting to see who Christ sees me to be, though I'm still a work in progress. I leave you, my reader, with this challenge: what past pain is keeping you from recovery? Recovery is possible in Christ and I've been reminded of this thanks to Celebrate Recovery! Now it is a journey, not an overnight trip. You didn't acquire the baggage, the souvenir knick knacks of your past pain overnight, no those things you have on your shelves that remind you of the past, maybe they're in a box in your attic, or your storage locker, but wherever those things are hidden they took time to collect and it will take time to work through.
Submitted by: Brian DiGia
Thank you Brian for sharing your incredible testimony. I found this Bible verse that I wanted to share with you,
"No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man. God is faithful, and He will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation He will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it." ~ 1 Corinthians 10:13 ESV Bible.
I'm so proud of you and the work you are doing! I pray for continual strength for you!
Love and lemons,
]]>When my son was first diagnosed with Autism, I met a friend who shared with me information about a book, “Welcome to Holland.” In the story, travel plans are completely turned around and Holland is the destination. My friend was preparing me for this journey and I’m still thankful for her. My daughter was just a few months old and my son was almost four when he was diagnosed with Autism. It was a tough time and can still be.
Tim Tebow's Night to Shine Prom 2018
My kids are 18 and 14 now! It’s still a journey. I honestly struggle everyday to make sure I educate him (he’s homeschooled), spend some time with her, meet their needs, then go to work at night.
One of Suzanne's favorite Bible verses.
I’ll always believe that the Lord has purpose for everyone and every event. I’ll continuously seek more to help him, and I’ll do anything I can to involve him in something to possibly help. I’ll always pray for my family and I’ll pull my daughter to the side and remind her how I know this must be hard on her, but I’m so very proud that she has Faith in the Lord and so much love in her heart.
Because we can’t give up. We can have a bad day, but we keep going.
Submitted by: Suzanne Hinton
Thank you Suzanne for sharing your story. You hit the nail on the head when you said there are really great days and really really difficult ones. No matter what though there is nothing else to do than keep trusting God, supporting and loving out special kiddos, and persisting. You are doing an awesome job Momma!
Love and lemons,
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It hurts. Those who have never experienced divorce may think they understand what the divorced person is going through. I used to think I understood it. But I didn’t. I did not fully grasp the fallacy of my thinking until four years ago. You see, after 25 years of marriage, I became divorced. What had in reality occurred some months before was legally recognized on a hot summer day in August of 2015. It was official. My marriage had ended. And I felt like I had lost my identity. I thought I had failed God. I thought I had failed my family. I thought I failed myself. Life as I knew it was over. I felt like there was no hope.
But why mourn? Some who go through divorce may mourn because they do not want the divorce. For others, it is because of the circumstances leading up to the divorce. Maybe it was both of these reasons for me. Maybe more. While it is not what I wanted to happen, I accepted that it was necessary. It had to happen. Maybe there are different reasons for others. Circumstances and situations are limitless. That is life. That is why we shouldn't generalize, and we must be careful with casting judgment, particularly without knowing all the facts.
As for me, I did not mourn the life I had. It was not perfect, of course. But it was not so bad that I regretted the marriage completely. No, I mourned the life I thought I was going to have. I mourned the loss of an ideal. I wanted to live happily ever after in love with one woman. And that did not happen. I mourned my inability to live up to the standard of marriage. I felt inadequate. Broken. As such, I went through all the stages of grief.
During this grieving process, I could not ignore the day the marriage died. I had to face it. I had to go through it. Unfortunately, I also could not ignore the day the marriage was born. During the divorce proceedings, our 25th wedding anniversary passed. What was supposed to be a celebratory milestone ended up as a figurative tombstone instead. It was a lonely day for me. The dichotomy was striking. Now all alone, I looked back and thought about the wedding ceremony when I was surrounded by hundreds of family and friends. I remembered a day filled with love, happiness, hope, laughter, and a universe of possibilities.
But now it is also a day of sadness. It is a reminder that the universe of possibilities that seemed so vast for the couple who exchanged "I do" until death no longer exists. It is gone, replaced with the "I don't" anymore of divorce. Sadness, because the promises made were unable to be fulfilled. Sadness, because what should have been and what I so deeply wanted could never, ever truly be.
These strangely conflicting feelings of joy and sorrow are valid, especially when the divorce is fresh. The pendulum of emotions swung widely and wildly to both extremes. Thankfully, time levels out these emotions. However, I know that I am not alone having gone through these types of feelings. Others experience it, too. Some may be in even worse circumstances, so I do not think that there is something unique or special about me. Yet, in some respects, I had become a statistic. Maybe that bothered me. Whatever it was, I did not see much point in ignoring my feelings, although a part of me wanted to act as though nothing was wrong. In a way, I wanted to act like I was perfectly fine in my brave, new world. Yes, I was fine. But all was not right.
Therefore, I could not act as though everything was simply fine. Instead, I choose to face it head on. As only I could do, I acknowledged the anniversary for the special day it was. I did not look at my wedding pictures, I did not analyze what went wrong since that day 25 years ago, and I did not make a list of regrets and what-ifs. I simply remembered the joy I felt so long ago and also allowed myself to feel however I needed to feel during each moment as the difficult day passed. The day of the divorce was exactly the same. I allowed myself to feel. I determined to move ahead, happy to be alive. Life was not over. It goes on. There was so much to look forward to doing. Although He seemed strangely absent at the time, God was there, too. He still is. Nothing changes that.
But I must remain vigilant. Divorce can bring out the worst in people. It certainly did in me. I was little aware of the fathomless depths of anger, spite, sadness, fear, regret, pettiness, and selfishness within me. Divorce can reveal the dark places, unearthing once dormant evils within the human heart. It’s an uncomfortable journey of self-examination. It is a journey one must make. And although, thank God, most of the time these monsters within us remain caged, the sheer fact that they are there at all is enough to make me scared of the hurtful person I have the potential to become. I had to be careful and rely upon God and those who truly love me to help me navigate through the valley of the shadow of death of my marriage. I made sure I surrounded myself with a "team" to help me navigate every facet (spiritual, emotional, financial, legal, professional, etc.) of this experience. I made a lot of missteps, but this was, perhaps, the wisest thing I did. I thank God for each of these special people in my life. They really helped me.
And so, four years later, I take stock of what I have lost and what I have gained. Kathy, who was also dealing with her own failed marriage at the time, was a Godsend to me. We fell in love, got married, and today I cannot imagine life without her. I know there is a stigma about divorce and remarriage. We understand that and we live with that. However, we also live and serve God together. It is quite an adventure! It is not perfect, but that is what makes it perfect. I would not have it any other way.
In fact, Kathy introduced me to a new hobby - sailing. We love to sail, and we have learned that the direction of the wind is not the main concern. How you set the sail is what matters. And when it gets too rough, we have an anchor. Lower the sails and ride out the storm.
She did. I will do that, too. I am doing that. And yet, a part of me will always mourn my losses from the storms of life. I can still sail through life. But I have an anchor so I can mourn with hope. So can you.
And that's more than OK.
Submitted by: Kevin Horath
I have been through divorce, as most of you know, so I could relate to so much of what Kevin says. There is a grieving period and it will look completely different for each person. Maybe they don't start grieving until the marriage has legally or "officially" dissolved. Maybe they have been going through the process for years before the actual divorce and by the time the dust settles they are more than ready to move on with their lives. Whatever their journey looks like, just know that one thing almost will always be the same. They need your support, love, and encouragement.
Thank you Kevin for being brave and sharing your story!
Love and lemons,
]]>For as long as I can remember there has always been some barrier. Some invisible boundary. Something not quite right. A coldness between people. A lack of depth of emotion. An inability to really get into the grooves of what intertwines relationships between family members. There is an unexplainable loneliness in this. In a child, having no bond to anyone distorts your intended growth, and that distortion stays with you through the long years to come.
I kind of understood what the words meant, but the feeling of being completely lost, out in some outer realm from everyone in the world. I heard the words, "I love you," but it never seated itself into that deep part of me that actually believed anyone. I cannot remember a time in which I was treated to be as in equal standing with my non biological adopted brother.
There were many events in my brother’s life, that went on eventless in mine. The first big one was that they loved him so incredibly as parents that they gave him a biblical name. And would make a big deal over it, teaching him to find his name in the bible… God's book.
Another was that they made sure that he was also baptized as a young boy, securing him to Heaven. As I, also young, and have now become much older still cannot understand what was wrong with me, that they didn’t believe I should be loved and secured to God. No biblical name for me. No baptism. No securing me to Heaven. No teaching me about Jesus, and Salvation. If the only parents I had deemed me unworthy. Then certainly I must be.
The years went by and by the time I reached 11, the lack of equality between siblings, the lack of interest in my being, and the ever-present reality of being the unwanted child in the unit, continued. I became more despondent and the beginning of suicidal tendencies emerged.
Eventually I did succeed at my goal of finding rest, away from her, whom I still am completely unable to please… in the form of 63 sleeping pills, one terrible night, and a very long stay in a hospital in Florida.
I was discovered by a neighbor, and the rest led to now. The night I awoke, alone in the hospital hooked up to lines and needles and tubes there was a maintenance lady cleaning near me. She came into my room and said to me kind, warm words. I’ll never forget that she told me that I did have a purpose. She told me I was loved, and loveable. I still wish I knew who she was. She reached me with simple kindness and a showing of love. She saw me, as where I’d been born invisible. She showed me just enough Jesus to strengthen me to go on. Maybe she was an angel. To me she was.
The years with my mother have continued to be extremely difficult and always hurtful, however I maintain the relationship to my best ability from a distance. In my late 30’s, I made a first attempt to begin to try to find anyone biologically related to me, but even filling out the adoption registry paperwork was too much and led me into crying fits and depression. So, I dropped it. After I’d been married for several years and had my own children and created a support system, I tried again. It was a difficult ride. A roller coaster. I joined Ancestry. I filled out the adoption registry. I received a letter back stating that no one had been looking for me. That was really hard. As an adoptee, you always hold out hope that somewhere, someone remembers... but, nothing... but I kept moving.
But she did share the hard news. That was that I myself, was the result of what happens when a 12-year-old little girl gets raped by a 30-year-old man. That's how I came to be. And yet, she was brave, and her mother was not a murderer, so I lived.
I was finally allowed my adoption papers. I lived. I was never given a name. I was in an orphanage for over a year and unadoptable during that time. Not held. Not known. Not loved. Not wanted. Completely helpless to the whims of humans. However, it has become increasingly evident that during my complete helplessness I was still kept.
It has been a hard ride. Long and hard and lonely. My greatest joy has been having my children. Creating my family and pouring all my love into them. I need to also say that my adopted dad’s family did not have the constraints placed on them by my adopted mother. My dad’s family showed me love always and provided a safe place for me just to be a normal child. As to where my adopted mother was hateful, they were like honey. So, in them I found the love I needed.
My Grandma and Aunt did their very best to reach to me, and undeniably love me. My Aunt even went so far as to ensure my baptism when I was 18 and had come to live with them, escaping my adopted mothers grip. The way I see it is that not a lot of people love you enough to be concerned if you’re going to Heaven. Well, my Aunt was. And although I moved from her home a year later and got out on my own, she was always close to my heart. That's what happens when you show love, you get love too.
I’m 47 now. A family of my own. A continued struggle with my adopted mom that I maintain from a distance. My Aunt recently passed. Last Christmas Eve, as her last wish, she gifted me her home and land. Knowing my love for her, and this area that she provided as a safe haven in those really hard years, there is a circle that’s been completed. I have never been a happier soul. My soul is filled with rejoicing at seeing the way that God has been working and moving in my life since I was an infant. I was NEVER alone. I do not cry any more for that baby that was me. Instead I see now the ways in which He held me, provided for me, filled in the empty spots, and supplied my healing. He has taught me to rely upon HIM. By example. I had nothing else to rely upon and yet He was there.
Upon moving back here to Locust Fork, my family and I have been attending the very church I was baptized in, when it was much smaller. We’ve been here 2 months now, our son started school at the elementary school, and we are doing well. Coincidentally I was asked to sing a song I also play on my guitar this Sunday at the very church I sang my first song at! At the very church my Aunt made sure I got to go to. I feel life has seriously come full circle and my only wish is that she could be here to witness it all. I believe really that maybe from her spot in Heave she already can.
Submitted by: Anonymously
Wow! This story just hit me all in the feels! It never ceases to amaze me at how God weaves our story together over time. When you are in the middle of the chapter, it all seems so confusing. Nothing is making sense. You're anxious and maybe even angry. But faithful is He that holds the pen! He puts your story together so beautifully no matter how broken the pieces.
Love and lemons,
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I understand that a few of these suggestions may be off-putting to some, but my more formal approach comes from spending 4 years in due process with my son’s school system. Your experiences shape your viewpoints. And while my case was largely successful, with a win in the 11th Circuit Court of Appeals, it was during that time working closely with my son’s attorney that I developed habits and learned firsthand how implementing very simple practices could not only help me support Jack better but hopefully prevent going to due process. Or at least, ensure that I am fully prepared if I were to ever find myself in that place again.
Hopefully these 5 tips will help you stay organized and on top of your advocacy game!
This means not wearing your Mt. Dew pajama pants to an IEP meeting and yelling at the school staff how “they gonna give little Johnny speech,” because you know your neighbors kid got it and she doesn’t even have Autism.
Let’s start here.
Dress nicely when you go to any meetings. Be on time. Be respectful and courteous. All the little things you probably don’t even have to think about when it comes to your 9-5 can be applied in some way to your 5-9 or your job as your child’s representative.
Just like you learn your company’s policies and procedures, take some time and get familiar with the federal regulations and your state’s code regarding special education. You do not have to be an expert here! That burden does not fall on the shoulders of the parent. Even joining Facebook groups like Ask a Special Education Attorney or signing up for the Wrightslaw newsletter can be very helpful. Both are great resources for all things legal.
Your job as your child’s advocate should be one of the most important things you are doing for him/her. Not to stress you out, but their lives depend on it.
When I look at myself as a mother, I am emotional. I get angry. I not only want what’s best for my child, but I want THE best for them. If something is wrong, I want it fixed immediately. And throw in the fact that your special needs child may be completely helpless in most situations…well there’s that too. These are all normal, and honestly given the situation, rational feelings.
The law also works and gets results a lot slower than what your Mama (or Daddy) heart feels is right. In order to effectively navigate the legal system, you must remove the emotional component. That’s not to say, Jack isn’t my driving force. That’s not to say that I don’t listen to my instincts or my intuition. What I am saying is that I have to make a conscious effort to take my personal feelings out of each situation that comes up in order to effectively advocate for my son.
I record mine for several reasons. For one, our meetings are typically lengthy, and we cover a lot of ground during that time. I have a very difficult time paying attention to what is being said, trying to take notes, reading and following along with any paperwork that we are discussing, and trying to remember all I want to ask, all by myself. It’s very mentally overwhelming. For me to fully participate as a member of his IEP team, I made the decision to record all his meetings.
Secondly, my husband is unable to attend most of the time, so he can participate by going back and listening to the meeting.
I always make sure I let administration know in advance that I will be recording that way they have the chance to also record if they would like. I also record on a device that can be saved to a computer so that if the school would like a copy, I have one to send them.
If you are unable to record or don’t have access to a recording device, my suggestion would be to type up your notes as soon as you are able to after the meeting; include the time and date of the meeting, any major discussions from the meeting, who all attended, if anyone left early, what copies you received of any paperwork, data reviewed, basically everything related to your meeting needs to be included. Then email your notes to everyone who attended the meeting and state that you wanted to share your notes from the meeting and ask everyone to please review and let you know if they have anything they would like to add. I would do this with any and every meeting you have with the school.
Each school year, I have a dedicated binder or accordion type file folder that I use to save data sheets, updated and current IEPs and BIPs, work samples, therapy notes, etc.… I am not even kidding when I say I save everything! Also, make sure you create a folder for each school year in your email so you can easily move all email communications to it. If you were to ever find yourself in due process, one of the things that you will have to do is submit discovery. Discovery will almost always include the child’s educational record and any other relevant documentation, including your own.
My son’s record had been falsified in several areas and I had no idea until we got further along in our case. Luckily, I had saved everything to show exactly what had been sent home. And our saving grace…a sticky note that I happened to save from a meeting I had with the school. That one tiny piece of paper was one of our biggest pieces of evidence.
Save everything!
One of the best pieces of advice I have been given in my advocacy journey has been to stop and ask yourself these questions when a situation comes up that you are concerned about.
If you answer yes to any of those questions, most likely you may need to contact an attorney or advocacy group, or in the case of question 3, the police. If you’ve answered no to any of those questions, the first thing would be to get yourself organized by listing out the problems and start some productive dialogue with your child’s teacher or administration.
I usually try to give myself overnight to collect my thoughts and talk it out with my husband or fellow advocates, then ask myself those questions. Once I can rule out those 3 things, then I can formulate a response or plan regarding finding a solution to the matter at hand.
**Author’s Note: The information provided in this post does not and is not intended to constitute legal advice. The views expressed are those of my own opinions based off my personal experiences. Readers should contact an attorney to obtain advice with respect to any particular legal matter.
Everyone’s journey will look different. Some of these tips you may disagree with or think that you could never implement. And certainly, these suggestions do not constitute as legal advice. However, these are the most important takeaways I had from my experience in due process and the exact steps I take to ensure that I am protecting my child and his rights to the best of my ability. I hope that they help you too!
Love and lemons,
]]>One of those lessons I learned was this.
While driving my mother to her eye appointment she kept talking about the clouds.
Every comment she made was regarding the clouds; how fluffy they looked, how intertwined they were with each other, the dark and white clouds. After at least an hour of cloud comments I finally said, “Mom you are a little obsessed with the clouds today.” Her response was, “Well I guess you just talk about what you see.”
At the time I didn’t think anything about what she said. But this morning while cleaning my kitchen that still small voice asked me, “what are you looking at?” Oh, my what a question!!
I want to be like my mom and see the clouds. I want to keep His word before my eyes and see what He says.
I want to look at these things like my mom and see the beauty in them. God is ALWAYS in control and only by keeping His promises in front of my eyes can I accomplish whatever He has in store for me. No matter how many dark clouds pop up.
Submitted by: Cathy Braden
This story was written by my mother, Cathy. My grandmother currently lives with her and is basically the last living person in her immediate family. Despite losing her husband, all of her children but my mom, her parents, all her siblings, and several grandchildren, she has always maintained a joyful heart and sunny disposition. She is the strongest and most Godly woman I know. I hope that I too can always look at my life and appreciate the intermingling of the light and dark to see how God is always working for good in my life.
Love and lemons,
]]>When I was 16 years old, I noticed a dry patch of skin along the hairline of my forehead. I tried using extra moisturizer, but the patch didn't go away. Shortly after, I began getting more patches along my hairline and behind my ears. After it began to spread my Mom took me to the dermatologist where I was diagnosed with Psoriasis. Psoriasis is an incurable skin disease that effects only 2% of the population.
Having psoriasis does come with its struggles. Sometimes the battle is physical, like when I get stressed out and each spot becomes inflamed and burns at the touch of anything. My biggest battle though, was mentally. Never in my whole life have I had a person tell me that my skin was ugly. The only one to tell me my skin was ugly was Satan. He found my weak spot and let it take over.
Throughout this time, I tried several things to make me feel better like tanning, clever fashion choices, and makeup. At one point I felt if I just worked out a lot and ate really well, I would have a "perfect" body and then finally I would feel good about how I looked. So, I did. I worked out for hours a day. I had absolutely no sugar, no fast food, and way too many protein shakes. I was lean with the right amount of muscle in all the right places, but guess what?
This battle went on for more years to come. Then one day I looked in the mirror and God revealed to me that I was so much more than psoriasis!
Psoriasis... that is just a part of who I am... and a small part of who I am. When I finally let God win and not Satan, I felt free. I felt like 100 pounds had been lifted away from me. Finally, I felt beautiful. It wasn't because of any physical changes. What changed was I was finally seeing myself the way God sees me.
The freedom I felt after surrendering this to God is not where God’s planned stopped. Looking back at over 10 years now it is incredible to see how creative and how amazing God’s plans are. God not only helped me to see myself as He sees me, but the weakness Satan used to make me feel ugly, God turned it around to be used for glory to His kingdom.
God has placed me in the "severe" category of psoriasis. Because there are patches on so much of my skin it is very noticeable and comes up in conversation A LOT! My skin, my once called weakness is now my most used opportunity to share God’s love and how perfect He is. I want to tell everyone God doesn't make mistakes. You are perfect! If Satan is telling you a lie do not listen! Open your Bible and see what God says about you. Physical changes won't make you feel beautiful. They might and I repeat MIGHT make you feel pretty, but the only way to feel beautiful is seeing yourself the way God sees you.
Submitted by: Katie
This story touched me so much because my daughter struggles with severe eczema. And although she is young and it has never crossed her mind to be insecure about it, I always worry about it as she gets older. Her father and I tell her she is beautiful all the time and we never make a huge issue when she has a severe flare up, but I can't help but think about whether it will affect her self-esteem later in life. I hope that I can teach her the strength and resiliency you have found through Christ. You are such an inspiration to those who struggle with self-confidence.
Katie and I met online through Instagram and she honestly has been such a joy to follow and such a blessing to know. She owns Rustic Bliss Boutique which is an online jewelry and accessory boutique with the cutest faith based jewelry with a boho vibe! I hope you can check it out.
Thank you Katie for being brave and sharing your story.
With love and lemons,
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