Isaiah

Let me start by saying that I am really, really, really enjoying the book of Isaiah right now. I have read it in the past, but God is using this book to speak to me in different ways than before. This book is beautiful.

Several weeks ago in our Wednesday night class at church we read about the call of Isaiah. In chapter 6, God calls Isaiah into service. One of the questions that our leader asked was whether or not God was being unfair or hypocritical for asking Isaiah to do something that was impossible. I answered this question in front of the group with my 2 cents, but more about that in a bit. We also had a reflection exercise that we completed at the end of class. See the photos below.

I wrote from the heart, as I have felt that I am so unclear of WHAT I am supposed to be doing for God's kingdom. Our lives are currently so overloaded with therapies, exercises and interventions to help give our little bear the very best shot to be successful and functional in this world. I don't think that God would have me stop doing these activities and leave my little man to flounder, but I feel inadequate sometimes. I struggle with what more I should be doing outside of these things.

God had an answer for me the next day. He's got a good sense of humor. Really, I actually giggled. Let's revisit that answer to the question in class. Here is a paraphrase of what I said in class....

"God isn't being hypocritical or asking Isaiah to do something that is impossible. He is asking him to be faithful to God, to do what he asks him to do. God doesn't expect Isaiah to fix the people of Israel. He is asking Isaiah to be faithful to God in the journey as God works on the people."

Funny....that's what God put on my heart the next day as I re-read Isaiah and my reflection prayer...by using my own words. He isn't calling me to anything specific right now, but to be faithful in everything I do, along this journey. There may be a point that he asks me to drop it all and do a radical mission. Right now, however, my heart is peaceful knowing he is asking me to be faithful to him, his awesome power, his control, his plans for my life and my family. He doesn't expect me to "fix" anything...which is good, because I am lacking! Thank goodness he can make up all I lack. My job is to do my best to reflect him in all I do...at therapy, while doing our exercises at home, while in IEP meetings, when working with patients, when cooking dinner, when interacting with my husband. Be faithful in the journey and answer with a resounding "Here am I."

Dear Heavenly Father, 

Thank you for the gift of clarity that you provide us with. Thank you for opening my eyes to your will for me and doing so in the spirit of encouragement. I am so thankful that you are in control and don't put the burden of "fixing" everything on me. I love you and am so blessed by our leaders in their lessons.

Amen.
 ~*Shelby*~

Weeds

My little bug is in LOVE with all the purple flowers she is seeing right now. Part of these are growing in our yard...because they are weeds. Her poor little heart couldn't understand why we were pulling out her flowers. As she sat in my lap, we talked about weeds. How they grew quickly and often were deceptively beautiful. They weren't "helper" plants but actually killed the grass we want to grow. She was soon helping pull them out, but stopped to smell almost every one. *heart melting* 

I took the opportunity to talk with both kids about the weeds in our lives. The things that Satan warps to look good, but ultimately chokes out the true goodness in our lives. They may be young but they listened. Little bear asked if it was like the rumor weed on VeggieTales. (See, I told ya they were listening) 

God was speaking to our little family through those little purple flowers. Calling us to look closely at our lives and find the weeds. Calling us to eliminate the things that occupy our time but serve no purpose in bringing God glory or furthering the kingdom. It is a toe cruncher for sure! 

Dear Lord,

Give my eyes and heart the necessary filter to keep the weeds pulled out. Help us to fill our days with actions to serve your purpose. Thank you for the teachable moments you place before me. Thank you for the beauty you surround is with. 

~*Shelby*~

You're Beautiful

The past few weeks there has been something weighing heavy on my heart and mind. Our actions and words are so very important. So very influential...especially on those little ones we don't think are listening. The things they see and hear are taken out to the world and shared with the world. If those are kind, loving, build people up kinds of things then...AWESOME. Those are the things of life worth living for. Yet, all too often they are not those words and deeds reflected. I'm not talking about heinous crimes or overly blatant wrong things, but those more subtle, some how sharper words that strike.

Recently, my little bear says to me "I guess I am just a weird kid, Mom." Weird? Where in the world did this come from? Turns out a particular non friend at school has been throwing these jabs out at my kiddo on a frequent basis. Now, let me interject a major statement of importance here, I am not OK with being mean or ugly to people, but facts are facts, these things will happen more often than they should in this life. My goal is for my little guy to learn how to handle these breaches upon his self image and come out on top. YET, I do strongly feel that as his mom I have a obligation to teach him to not treat other people that way. My God tells us not to!

Friends have shared various instances when their own, differently-abled little person was treated unkindly. Makes me stop and think we as a society are going about this all the wrong way. In a world that "celebrates" uniqueness in more ways than I can count, a child with a condition that they CAN'T change is ridiculed, mocked, and told to go play somewhere else. Really? It is looked down upon to judge or treat someone differently because of their hair, tattoos, piercings, religious beliefs, or lifestyle choices and yet children are learning to be rude to other kids who are different from them? This is ludicrous.

Please stop and think before you say something about the person standing on the corner. Please stop and think before you speak ill words about the coworker that drives you crazy. Please stop and think before telling your kid "that person is weird/strange." Plain and simple they are just different. I'm different than you and you are different than me, doesn't make us weird or strange, but oddly it makes us normal because different IS normal.

My hopes in this are that my sweet child and those walking a similar journey come away with a peace in knowing who they are. Knowing that they are beautifully and wonderfully made.
Mercy Me shares my thoughts "You're beautiful, You're beautiful, You are made for so much more than all of this. You're beautiful, You're beautiful, You are treasured, You are sacred, You are His. You're beautiful"


Dear Lord,

Please help me to be an example of YOU in my thoughts, actions, and words. Keep me mindful of the little ears that are listening and molding themselves after me. Protect their hearts and minds from the arrows of insults the world throws their way. May they carry the fruits of the spirit. 

Your girl,

~*Shelby*~ 

Cut It Out

There has been a world of progress made since my last post. My little bear is blooming in his own little way. This is not really somewhere I thought we would be this soon. Good things are coming around the corner too!

Occupational therapy is one of the integral steps in helping SPD kids learn to function with the differences in their bodies. We have a wonderful OT that diagnosed our little bear, but she is over an hour away and it isn't feasible to see her three times a week. Since November, I have been praying and searching for a way to make OT happen for us. There weren't any OTs that work specifically with SPD to my knowledge or to the knowledge of the therapy places I inquired. Randomly, I called the first place I checked back, just on a whim to see if maybe something had changed. They didn't have any new staff but did make a recommendation for me. We are now scheduled with an OT here in Stillwater that TRULY understands what SPD is and looks like...her son is sensational too! I can't express to you how important it is to bring your petitions before God....He will deliver when and if the timing is right and in a better way than you can imagine. Never once had I really thought about having a therapist who LIVES with SPD on a daily basis like we do. How much better can it get? Professional, practical, and maternal advice!

I know that most of you have very limited knowledge or exposure to SPD, and in my effort to help bless others through our journey, I would like to share a glimpse of our life with you...

Hair cuts....routine part of life for most everyone, correct? Not a life altering experience, not a physical marathon, just a hair cut...not a big deal, right? As some of you have noticed, I let my little guy's hair grow out pretty long between haircuts. We average 4-5 at most a year. Over the summer, I may not cut it at all. Why? Because it is very unpleasant for him. Does he scream and kick? No. Then what's the big deal? It physically causes him pain and discomfort. His little body perceives all those sensations in such a magnified way. Clippers are really uncomfortable because they vibrate and make noise. Scissors are OK for the most part. We used to go to professionals to get it cut, but it is so much better for him now that I do it at home. We can take as long as we need, do it in sessions, do it over several days, whatever. He is so much less anxious, better able to deal with it here at home. Are my haircuts perfect? No, but they are pretty good for an amateur. 

Anxious to start

Stop and think next time you see someone with a "non-professional" haircut. There may be a whole world of reasons it looks the way it does! 

Dear Lord,

Thank you for my little bear. Thank you for the journey you have put us on. Thank you for helping me acquire new skills, such as hair cutting, to endure the course. Your love is so amazing. How am I worthy to be blessed to be a mother? Please guide me to be a parent to my children the way you are to me. 

Love your daughter,

~*Shelby*~

Bleh

My least favorite thing about SPD (Sensory Processing Disorder) reared its ugly head today. A few minutes after 4 I got a call from the after school program teacher letting me know my little bear was not doing well. I picked my stuff up from work and walked out. (I know, I'm crazy blessed to have a job like that)

When I got there my little guy was literally falling apart. He had enough of all kinds of stimuli and was not handling anything anymore. He. Was. Done. I picked up my hysterically tearful guy and held him and hugged him. All he could say was "I don't know why I'm doing this. I don't know why I feel like this." *heart breaks into a million pieces* What caused this to happen? Sensory overload in a body and brain that doesn't process it correctly to begin with. His after schoolmates were more rambunctious than usual, and were screaming right before the down slide occurred. 

These are the moments that it is hardest to say those words to God..."I trust You." Hard to think that this gut wrenching SUFFERING I see on my child's face is for a purpose. Yet, I know in my heart of hearts that God is in control. He will help Nolan learn how to handle these feelings, help me to support him, and guide us on the path He has laid out. Jeremiah 29:11 promises that He has a plan, a great plan...a plan of hope, not pain. My little guy is an amazing, sweet, very Jesus oriented little person who has been put here to do great things. This may mean his journey is longer, twisty-er (think I made that up), but all for the glory of God. 

I mean, look at that sweet, snaggletooth!

Dear Lord,

Please guide our steps everyday. Give us the knowledge to do what is the very best for our little guy. Surround him with your arms. Protect him, calm his fears, quiet the anxiety inside. Prepare him for the amazing things you have planned. Keep the "why him? why us? this is unfair"s out of our mouths and minds. We know you have laid this journey before us and have equipped us for the task at hand. Our strength is IN YOU.

Your Daughter

Cutie Patooties

My sweets are with the grandparents until school starts. This is a two fold reprieve for 'ol mom....less $ for babysitting (as much as I love my sitters, you guys are expensive for a week!:)) and a sanity break. Before we moved to Oklahoma, my husband and I were an hour away from both sets of grandparents...that meant much more frequent sanity breaks. Now that we are 9 hours away, this hasn't happened! I'm enjoying my time with just the hubby, but let's face it, I miss my kids like an appendage! They are precious! Here are some pictures from their adventures in grandparentland.

The Misunderstood Child

We had an appointment yesterday with our OT (occupational therapist) to go over the evaluation she did on our Little Bear. Suspicions were confirmed that he does have Sensory Processing Dysfunction in addition to ADHD. Since this journey started I have continually felt that there was something *else* at the root of it all. More to come in future posts about this diagnosis. She shared a wealth of information with us including this poem. This is all I want to share today...please read it, take it to heart, and stop and think when you meet a kid like this....it might be my kid.

The Misunderstood Child A poem about children with hidden disabilities

   by Kathy Winters

I am the child that looks healthy and fine. I was born with ten fingers and toes. 

But something is different, somewhere in my mind, And what it is, nobody knows.

  

I am the child that struggles in school, Though they say that I'm perfectly smart. 

They tell me I'm lazy -- can learn if I try -- But I don't seem to know where to start.

  

I am the child that won't wear the clothes which hurt me or bother my feet. 

I dread sudden noises, can't handle most smells, and tastes -- there are few foods I'll eat.

  

I am the child that can't catch the ball and runs with an awkward gait. 

I am the one chosen last on the team and I cringe as I stand there and wait.

  

I am the child with whom no one will play -- The one that gets bullied and teased. 

I try to fit in and I want to be liked, but nothing I do seems to please.

  

I am the child that tantrums and freaks over things that seem petty and trite. 

You'll never know how I panic inside, when I'm lost in my anger and fright.

  

I am the child that fidgets and squirms though I'm told to sit still and be good. 

Do you think that I choose to be out of control? Don't you know that I would if I could?

  

I am the child with the broken heart though I act like I don't really care. 

Perhaps there's a reason God made me this way -- Some message he sent me to share.

  

For I am the child that needs to be loved and accepted and valued too. 

I am the child that is misunderstood. I am different - but look just like you.