tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86961635145856650312024-03-19T04:37:25.461-07:00 The Sponseller's Great AdventureOur Ukrainian Adoption and BeyondCrystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019603148061854650noreply@blogger.comBlogger121125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8696163514585665031.post-67086609096663872252017-12-10T20:31:00.001-08:002017-12-11T06:36:00.339-08:00For the love, be a hummingbirdThere is this story, one I have referenced years ago on my blog, it goes something like this: there is a mighty forest fire and all the animals flee the forest and cross the river and look over the river and watch their home burn up. Out of the corner of his eye, the mighty elephant sees the tiny hummingbird darting back and forth from the river to the fire, carrying a drip of water in his beak and dropping it on the fire. The elephant asked, "What do you think you are doing?" to which the hummingbird replies, "I am doing what I can."<br />
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I know a real life hummingbird. Her name is Renee. She has been teaching in an inner-city school for over thirty years, touching hundreds of lives with her love, faith, and generosity. She, along with the love of her life, Greg, have been youth leaders to hundred of kids over the years. She and Greg have been the very definition of "doing what they can." I would venture to say they have done even more than that. They have gone above and beyond. That is pretty much their thing.<br />
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I have gone to church with Greg and Renee for about the past nine years, and even though we are now looking for a new church, Greg and Renee, along with some other great couples are in a small group at our house on Wednesday night.<br />
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Last Wednesday, we all sat in my living room planning a surprise party for Greg's 60th birthday party. There was a lot of discussion over where we should have it. What kind of cake to make. German Chocolate. Greg wasn't there that night because he was not feeling well.<br />
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Thursday night I was sitting in my kids' choir concert and my phone vibrated. It was one of my friends from small group. I answered it.<br />
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"Crystal, Greg is gone."<br />
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It took my breath.<br />
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I let out a hiccup sob and then a keen. My mom thought I was laughing. I quickly schooled my face because I didn't want to tell my kids that way. Greg is their Pied Piper. Our friend. A magician. A comedian.<br />
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I finished the concert. I walked out of the auditorium and told Garth in the lobby. He was in disbelief. We quickly made a plan to get the kids home and have me go to Renee.<br />
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I am the kind of person who never wants to impose on someone's grief, but all I could think is that if it were me, Renee would be the person who I would want with me.<br />
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You see, Renee's prayers are the ace up my sleeve. I don't know how many times, especially in our adoption, where I would send her a prayer request and she would be on it. She is one of those people who doesn't just say she will pray for you, she prays on the spot for you. Talking to God like He is right there and is her best friend.<br />
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My dear Renee has been such a rock for so many people for so long. Right now she needs us.<br />
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I read an article that Glennon Doyle Melton wrote about the concept of sistering. It is a construction term used when a beam has to go a long distance in holding up a house. Too much distance and too much weight will surely make that beam bow, which can ruin the integrity of the entire house. The way that it is addressed is to take two other beams and attach them to either side of the board for support. That is what sistering is. This technique allows the main beam to do its job, but it doesn't have to do the job alone.<br />
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Renee needs us to sister her now. To support her.<br />
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Because Greg was not able to get life insurance due to his myriad of health problems, Renee has to come up with the entire amount for the funeral before Friday, December 15. The cost is $8000.<br />
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Now is the time to be that hummingbird. Even $10 would be such a blessing.<br />
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You may or may not know Renee, but please do what you can. Helping with this is following God's direction to the letter. James 1:27 tells us what pure and faultless religion is.<br />
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Please pray for Renee to have comfort. To have the peace that passes understanding in this painful time.<br />
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Here is a link to the <a href="https://www.gofundme.com/gregory-albright-memorial-service">GoFundMe</a> page.<br />
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Here is a link to his <a href="http://mccombandsons.tributes.com/obituary/show/Gregory-L.-Albright-105575702">Obituary</a>.<br />
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<span style="color: red;">*Update: I have had over 400 people read this post in the past 10 hours since it went live. If every one of those people would have donated $10, the remainder of this need would have been nearly met by now. </span><br />
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<br />Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019603148061854650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8696163514585665031.post-75006220101106489552017-10-10T08:43:00.000-07:002017-10-10T19:47:20.040-07:00Looking for the 'Why'It seems to be so much of human nature to try and figure out where it all went sideways.<br />
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When relationships fail.<br />
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When people are mean.<br />
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When someone shoots up a crowd.<br />
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We want to know 'why?' What could we have spotted along the way that would have allowed us to prevent it. What clue did we overlook? Where did it all go wrong?<br />
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I saw on the news that they will be performing an analysis on the brain of the killer.<br />
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Is evil visible under a microscope?<br />
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Perhaps they will find there was some brain damage. Some sign of dementia. Who knows. But most probably they won't find a solitary thing. No reason. No answer. Just endless questions and broken hearts.<br />
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We live in a culture where answers are at our fingertips 24/7. There are no more unanswered arguments. I can't disagree with my husband on something without his iPhone flying out of his pocket to settle it once and for all.<br />
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I think that we have lost something through that.<br />
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We have lost the ability to live in the tension of not knowing.<br />
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Maybe I only speak for myself, but I don't think so.<br />
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I think that if we step back we can culturally identify, not just as those seeking answers when something awful happens, but also as those wreaking destruction and mayhem as well.<br />
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I see such nastiness everywhere. Meagan Kelly started a new morning show and had a rough few days getting started. Now, I don't follow news, or Meagan Kelly, or anyone else for that matter, but for awhile I couldn't open up a browser without seeing her name and headlines about how much people hated her, etc.<br />
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There are real people with real feelings and real families that are being attacked in vicious and cowardly ways. <br />
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Fingers point at the POTUS for eviscerating people via social media, but it is not a problem isolated to him or started by him. There is a cowardly spirit at work in the hearts of so many. A cowardly spirit that sits behind a keyboard and constructs witty slander in order to get what we want. To eliminate our perceived enemies.<br />
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It is ridiculous and bullying behavior.<br />
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I have been on the receiving end of some of that recently, and I can say that it isn't fun. I can say that it stirs up all sorts of feelings and frustration and retaliation.<br />
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But I can also stand and say that it ends with me.<br />
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Maybe if more people stood up and stopped with the anger and the quest for the 'why' when sucky stuff happens we would live the more beautiful way. In fact, forget 'maybe,' we WOULD live a more beautiful way.<br />
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<br />Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019603148061854650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8696163514585665031.post-17242917833308211972016-12-12T17:30:00.001-08:002016-12-12T17:30:38.301-08:00When You Can't Be EnoughThe tree stands 9 feet tall and covered with 15 Christmases worth of ornaments. From the few fragile glass ornaments that have survived four dogs and four kids and countless guests, to the Hallmark ornaments that I have collected for each of my dear ones the day after Christmas. Standing in line because only a sucker will pay full price.<br />
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This new to us tree that I bought at a late season garage sale a few weeks ago for $10. Covered with white lights this year. Normally I love the multicolored, but this year my heart yearned for the simple twinkle of white fairy lights.<br />
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A mark in the pro column for not having a pre lit tree.<br />
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Garlands winding their way up the staircase and over the fireplace and festooning the entry door.<br />
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This time of year is dark. And cold. And I, being a Florida girl at heart, shrivel at the dark. And the bickering from no outside playing. My stomach in knots. Needing sunshine. Or Vitamin D. Lots of it.<br />
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Wanting so much say the right things but dark sarcasm sneaks out. Out of my dark and out of my yuck.<br />
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But there stands the tree. Lending its light to the dark. Compensating for the black outside my windows.<br />
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And that is the beauty of Christmas.<br />
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Christ coming into the mess of a stable. Into the mess of our lives.<br />
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What better thing could there be to celebrate?<br />
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<br />Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019603148061854650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8696163514585665031.post-67323989677022920752016-03-16T20:30:00.001-07:002016-03-16T20:30:50.277-07:00On Earth As It Is In Heaven<table align="center" id="prayer" style="background-color: white; border: 1px solid rgb(115, 119, 120); color: black; font-size: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td id="text" style="padding: 1em; text-align: left;">Our Father, who art in Heaven,<br />hallowed be Thy Name.<br />Thy Kingdom come, Thy Will be done,<br />on Earth, as it is in Heaven.<br />Give us this day our daily bread,<br />and forgive us our trespasses,<br />as we forgive those who trespass against us.<br />And lead us not into temptation,<br />but deliver us from evil.<br />For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory,<br />for ever and ever.</td></tr>
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I love the Lord's Prayer. Every line is so rife with meaning. Every word, a holy word straight from the Savior's lips, teaching us how we should pray.<br />
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I went to a ladies' retreat a couple of weeks ago. During my time there, we recited this prayer on several occasions. </div>
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The line that sticks out to me during this season of my life is "on earth as it is in heaven." Oh, the power and the promise! The longing it stirs in me!</div>
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Those words seem to imply that I can live, here on earth, as if I were in heaven.</div>
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What can that possibly mean?</div>
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First of all I want you to imagine that you are standing in the Presence of God. The throne room as was described in Revelations. The creatures surround the throne. The elders are present. The Lamb is seated there. You are in God's presence. </div>
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Everything falls away. Your tongue is tied. What could you possibly say? It seems the only thing you can say is "Holy, Holy, Holy," joining in with the saints and angels. </div>
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All those things that you worry about? The way your third grade teacher treated you; death; the scary diagnosis; the rejections; what you will make for dinner; all of the people who have hurt and stolen your shine: </div>
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GONE. </div>
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How can any of those things stand in the presence of God?!</div>
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Now, imagine how you feel as those things fall away....</div>
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FREEDOM! Peace! Lightness! Comfort!</div>
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I believe that if we can truly encounter God here on earth, those things will fall away! We can live that line!</div>
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It is a discipline. We have to search for Him, but we are promised that when we search for Him, we will find Him! Anyone can do it! There isn't a top secret ritual, it is a promise for every person who ever was born and who ever will be born: we can find Him. He has manifested Himself in creation and through His word.</div>
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And once we find Him? </div>
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His kingdom WILL come and His will WILL be done, on earth as it is in heaven.<br />
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Tonight I hold that promise dear.</div>
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Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019603148061854650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8696163514585665031.post-78070435261112384942015-12-20T17:47:00.001-08:002015-12-20T18:13:38.522-08:00O Christmas Trauma, O Christmas TraumaTis' the season.<br />
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Ack.<br />
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Any of you parents out there with squirrelly kids are like:<br />
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For whatever reason, this year has been more tricky for us than in times past. We have gone through a lot of changes in the last few months and I know that hasn't helped, but, daggum it, I didn't expect those changes to screw things up as much as they have. Ha.</div>
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Daniel has gotten his second referral of the school year. Both were totally deserved.<br />
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This morning at the Christmas program at church, his eyes were darting all over the place. I could see them from clear in the back. When the program was over I had him sit on my lap so that I could apply pressure to his chest, which really did help him re-center and have a better day, but after over an hour of sitting there, my arms felt like limp noodles.<br />
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Garth and I were sitting in the living room a couple of nights ago after the kids were in bed and we really could chuckle about how far we have come.<br />
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Daniel has come SO VERY FAR, but there are just going to be times in his life that he is going to struggle.<br />
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We can call it PTSD, or whatever string of letters that you would like, but ultimately we have to live with it and no matter what is causing it, it stinks.<br />
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And as much as it stinks for us, it stinks for him more. He has verbalized that his brain is feeling bad right now and he hates it.<br />
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It's especially hard now, because it is the time of year where we are around more people and busy with more things (it is a self-feeding cycle). I totally hate making excuses for my ten year old's unpleasant behavior, and I am SO SORRY if he is rude to you. Please understand if I ask you not to give him a superhero toy, I am not trying to be mean or steal his fun. If I ask you not to give him lots of attention when he is acting silly don't think I don't love him or delight in him, because I do. With ever fiber, I do love and delight in him and I want him to have fun, but I KNOW my son enough to know that is not what he needs in the moment.<br />
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These days will pass and he will settle back down. It's always a cycle. In the meantime, give us a spot of grace.Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019603148061854650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8696163514585665031.post-54509255422410054932015-12-20T17:14:00.000-08:002015-12-20T18:31:49.705-08:00Hospitality: RevisitedI love "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" by Dr. Suess.<br>
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I am not sure why I exactly love it, but every year it resonates with me. Some years it is because I am a total Grinch and I love the illustrations of his face as his wicked thoughts on how to spoil Christmas go through his mind. I am sure that the image of the long-suffering Max with a stick tied to his head has something to do with it, too, but I think for myself and for most connoisseurs, it comes down to this quote:<br>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">“And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow, stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so? It came without ribbons. It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes or bags. And he puzzled and puzzled 'till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before. </span><i style="background-color: white; color: #181818; line-height: 21px;"><span style="font-size: large;">What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store. What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more</span></i><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">.”</span></span></blockquote>
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So, I bet you are wondering what this has to do with hospitality...<br>
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Here it is!<br>
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Many times we have this idea that hospitality has to come with packages, boxes or bags! The daunting task of "entertaining" our guests keeps us from inviting them in the first place.<br>
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Here is the truth: there are people who want a comfy couch to sit on or snooze on after lunch. There are people who simply want to watch a movie of their choosing, or have access to a stove to make a meal.<br>
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Entertainment is something that anyone can buy, but home is a gift.<br>
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Moral of the story: don't geek yourself out about hosting people, worrying about how to entertain them. Invite them into your home and into your life. Show them where the food is, where the bathrooms are and how to work the showers, and leave the rest to happy chance.<br>
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Don't bog yourself down with "process" and "ministry." And for goodness sake, don't be a bean counter.<br>
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Be you.<br>
Give yourself.<br>
Be present.<br>
Laugh.<br>
Mess up.<br>
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These are the things that form the lasting memories and the precious connections.Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019603148061854650noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8696163514585665031.post-32008904457180508292015-10-14T08:55:00.001-07:002015-10-14T08:55:44.701-07:00Blood Whistles and Poop of Love: Life in an ESL home(Grandma and Grandpa, Mom and Dad, if you are reading this, don't read the title and think you raised me wrong)<br />
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If you have been reading along for awhile, you know that our home is a home that hosts many different languages.<br />
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In the day to day stuff, it is no big deal. I mean, we can't play a good game of Balderdash or Scattergories, but life is good, and in my opinion, we communicate pretty well.<br />
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But my opinion is not always reality.<br />
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Far too often feelings are hurt and decisions are made based on a failure to communicate.<br />
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Let's face it, even in the most homogeneous of environments, people can struggle with effective communication.<br />
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We all speak a different language based on our history. Garth comes from a Deaf home. English was not his first language, ASL was. His family also had some pretty unique dynamics that have colored the way that he has learned to deal with communication. I bring my upbringing where '<g class="gr_ gr_1138 gr-alert gr_spell ContextualSpelling ins-del multiReplace" data-gr-id="1138" id="1138">flibilee</g>' is a word and crick is what's over behind the neighbor's house.<br />
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People that stay with us not only bring their language; they bring their culture, their faith, their hurts and disappointments, and their prejudices. For better or worse.<br />
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Communication can be bumpy and laughable at best and devastating at worst.<br />
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One of the laughable moments was last night when Grace was trying to explain to Daniel what the blue things were in his arms.<br />
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"Those are veins."<br />
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"Dey are not veins. I have blood whistles!"<br />
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It took me a second. Haha.<br />
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But it makes perfect sense! He is taking a word that he hears and fitting it into the context he understands.<br />
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When he first came home he LOVED the song "Proof of Your Love" by Casting Crowns. He would bellow along, making a joyful noise. (He is totally tone deaf, but what he lacks in gifting, he makes up for in volume).<br />
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After a few weeks, I started really listening. It wasn't his accent. No. He was singing "Poop of Your Love" instead of "PROOF."<br />
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I asked him if he knew what "proof" meant. <g class="gr_ gr_2018 gr-alert gr_gramm Punctuation multiReplace" data-gr-id="2018" id="2018">Of course</g> he didn't. But he knew what poop meant.<br />
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Ay <g class="gr_ gr_2056 gr-alert gr_spell ContextualSpelling ins-del multiReplace" data-gr-id="2056" id="2056">yi</g> yi.<br />
<br />Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019603148061854650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8696163514585665031.post-4419867941019701902015-09-24T11:04:00.000-07:002015-09-24T11:04:16.459-07:00Just In Case You Have Ever Been Under The Illusion That We Have It All Together...Remember that day when the dryer broke and you tried to fix it and got your favorite pair of unmentionables stuck in the dryer, which then broke it even worse? (Not to mention, left the above-mentioned unmentionables in shreds).<br />
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And then you were running late to pick up your kid's TUBERCULOSIS medication from the Health Department and you get a call from the school that one of your kids has LICE!<br />
<br />
...And you have NO dryer.<br />
<br />
...And your kid has <i>consumption!</i><br />
<br />
...And your other kid has lice.<br />
<br />
No, Sweet Readers, this is not a Little House on the Prairie re-write; this was my day yesterday.<br />
<br />
And all of those things that were going on were punctuated with copious tears.<br />
<br />
Today is a new day. A day that I am enjoying the scent of laundry dried outside. A day that ALL the sheets are getting washed.<br />
<br />
There is always something to be thankful for. Always.Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019603148061854650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8696163514585665031.post-58272876891373220552015-09-22T20:20:00.000-07:002015-09-23T06:30:09.684-07:00Itchy ScarsWhen I was fifteen I was hit by a car. My elbow went through the windshield and I spent the next year and a half being pieced back together.<br />
<br />
I have my arm today thanks to a great doctor's humble spirit and knowledge of his limitations.<br />
<br />
When it first happened, it shaped my entire world. Everything was demarcated by "before the accident" and "after the accident." I was pulled into a whirlpool of PTSD and a profound sense of loss. At the time, it was a gigantic tragedy.<br />
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Through the years, I have dealt with those initial feelings like you would play whack-a-mole. Even today, there are times that I can feel deeply grieved when I think about the accident.<br />
<br />
I have been blessed with some wonderful counselors, and some not so wonderful counselors, along the way.<br />
<br />
The first guy that I saw, when I was absolutely crippled by panic, told me that I needed to think about the worst case scenario and then picture how I would handle it...and poof! I should feel better because now I know how to handle anything.<br />
<br />
Ha. Wrong! What that metastasized into was me frantically running scenarios for every situation: always having an escape route, being hyper-vigilant. It turned into an obsession over the years.<br />
<br />
I was blessed with two therapists that were familiar with PTSD and they really finally helped me flush so much of that out.<br />
<br />
What I am left with, today, is a weather-telling arm.<br />
<br />
My forearm aches when weather systems are coming in. A deep bone ache that no amount of Advil seems to touch or rubbing seems to help. My hand feels weak and I stretch and stretch, trying to release the tension.<br />
<br />
That is when the weather changes, so not all the time.<br />
<br />
What <i>can </i>happen at any given moment and is not triggered by anything, is the nerve <g class="gr_ gr_1571 gr-alert gr_gramm Punctuation multiReplace" data-gr-id="1571" id="1571">itching.</g><br />
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Ok. This is super weird.<br />
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Sometimes my arm itches. But wait, does it? Oh, yes. It does.<br />
<br />
Must. Scratch. Itch.<br />
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Makes. No. Difference.<br />
<br />
I could claw the skin off and the <g class="gr_ gr_1674 gr-alert gr_spell ContextualSpelling" data-gr-id="1674" id="1674">itch</g> would remain. There is literally NO WAY to scratch that itch.<br />
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This morning as I was walking the kids to school, God used that itchy scar to show me something.<br />
<br />
Here it is:<br />
<br />
When we are wounded, we heal. But we have scars.<br />
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And those scars? They affect the way things work. I mean, I <i>can feel</i> you touching my arm, but it just doesn't feel <i>right. </i><br />
<br />
But, HEY! I am not bleeding!<br />
<br />
Good as new!?<br />
<br />
Sometimes I think so!<br />
<br />
Sometimes the scars work just like the skin would have; keeping my blood in and my muscle covered.<br />
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It's faded to where you can hardly see it anymore!<br />
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And then... it starts itching. And I know that it is healed, but that this is just going to be the way it is all of my life. That, no matter how pale the scar gets, it is still there.<br />
<br />
Its very presence testifying to the brokenness that was thrust upon my life.<br />
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When I feel frustrated about the ebb and flow that undoubtedly come with parenting a child from hard places, I need to remember my 18-year-old itchy scar.</div>
Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019603148061854650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8696163514585665031.post-81958258009971434112015-09-15T09:12:00.001-07:002015-09-15T11:09:55.459-07:00Yep.Daniel gets to stay in his class.<br />
<br />
I am very happy about that. It has come at a bit of a relational cost, I am afraid, but things have a way of smoothing out and I need to know and embrace the fact that I shouldn't be so worried about what other people think about me, especially in a situation like this one.<br />
<br />
Isn't it ironic how we are worried about people thinking badly of us when we aren't thinking the best of them either?<br />
<br />
Years ago, something happened at a family event and one of Garth's cousins had some very sage words: "He had the right to do the thing and you have the right to feel angry about it."<br />
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Why do we try and control our feelings and the feelings of our children to such a degree that we don't embrace them for what they are? A natural response to a situation. We get irritated when someone doesn't respond the way that we envision. We lecture our children not to feel a certain way. We cajole our loved ones when they are <i>feeling </i>bad.<br />
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We drop bombshells on one another and then get irritated when someone is hurt.<br />
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Feelings are natural! They are NOTHING! I cannot control my feelings! I cannot control my children's feelings! I don't think any of us can (or should?!) get rid of that initial rush of emotion that we <g class="gr_ gr_86 gr-alert gr_gramm Grammar multiReplace sel" data-gr-id="86">have </g>at the moment. That is OK.<br />
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When we try to staunch feelings or try to dictate <i>how</i> a person should feel in a situation, we are grooming our tribe to be inauthentic. We are rearing them to question themselves over every little thing. We are raising children who will grow up into insecure adults.<br />
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Feelings should be validated. Not squashed.<br />
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Feelings shouldn't be <g class="gr_ gr_72 gr-alert gr_spell ContextualSpelling" data-gr-id="72"><g class="gr_ gr_72 gr-alert gr_spell ContextualSpelling" data-gr-id="72"><g class="gr_ gr_72 gr-alert gr_spell ContextualSpelling" data-gr-id="72"><g class="gr_ gr_72 gr-alert gr_spell ContextualSpelling" data-gr-id="72" id="72">wallowed</g></g></g></g> in, either.<br />
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<g class="gr_ gr_78 gr-alert gr_gramm Punctuation only-ins replaceWithoutSep" data-gr-id="78">Well</g>-managed feelings are things that you acknowledge, determine whether or not they are reasonable and then go from there into action.<br />
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I think the older I get and the more trials that I go through, the less time I have to worry about everyone else's opinions of me.<br />
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I have fought hard for Daniel.<br />
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I have traveled with my knees crammed into the seat in front of me, over oceans and continents. I have ridden on Soviet-era trains with the door locked on my compartment to keep out robbers. I have peed in a filthy hole in the floor. I have walked miles over broken sidewalks. I have spent the night wrestling with a feral child much like Jacob wrestled the angel and I, too, have come away changed. I have learned comfort and corrective phrases in a language not my own so that I could whisper those words over and over to calm a panicked child. I have prayed. I have cried. I have paid. I have gone to so many doctors appointments that words that would have scared me before make me chuckle now.<br />
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I have carried three children close to my heart and birthed them under bright lights through happy tears, and that experience empowered me to realize what my body was capable of; what my body was designed to do.<br />
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<span style="background-color: #f5f6f5; white-space: pre-wrap;">The processes of a</span>doption and of grafting a child into my family have taught me what my heart was capable of; what my heart was designed to do. The process of "birthing" my blue-eyed Daniel into this life that he now lives has made me into someone so much more than I was before. And through these struggles, he becomes more and more of my child.<br />
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When he is frustrated, his eyes search mine for the answers.<br />
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When he didn't want to change teachers and I told him I would fight for him, he trusted me.<br />
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When he opened his yap and said things that gave people the wrong idea, I made no excuses. Think what they will. We are a team.<br />
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Occasionally someone will verbalize that they can't imagine loving an adopted child like "their own" child. Tell me, how could I have labored any harder? How could I have spent any more tears?<br />
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No. I won't feel bad about Daniel being able to stay in his class.<br />
<br />Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019603148061854650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8696163514585665031.post-28335060712287840242015-09-12T10:00:00.000-07:002015-09-14T06:26:06.862-07:00GoosfrabaHave you ever been in a rage?<br />
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I am not talking about anger or seething or grumpiness.<br />
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The kind of RAGE where you see red?<br />
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I have had that happen maybe three or four times in my whole life.<br />
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One of those times was two weeks ago. I promise, if I had had a hatchet in my hands, there would have been a wake of destruction behind me. A pile of grey kindling where a house once stood. (Let me be clear, my situation was in no way related to school stuff).<br />
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With most of us, when that happens, we feel bad for a day or two. We try, in our head, to argue better, to come up with the right response that would stop the other person in their tracks. We plot fabulous revenge scenarios. And after a few days pass, we begin to let go. We chalk up the behavior of the other person to craziness or whatever makes us feel better, and we move on. (Although we may have some lingering retribution fantasies). We decide how, or if, we will interact with them in the future.<br />
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What if you couldn't let go? What if you were so full of anger and impotence <i>and </i>you had to see the person every day?<br />
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This is what Daniel is experiencing right now, so I'll tell you what will happen: the anger will rear its head over every little thing. Every straw will be <i>the </i>straw.<br />
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Daniel has a lot of frustration right now due to some situations at school, and it has definitely been a set back for him.<br />
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I have to remind myself of the ebb and flow of dealing with the yuck that he has come from. It just kind of stinks that there are still yucky situations happening.<br />
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The situation with the boy at the school isn't really improving. The school is wanting to separate the boys. I totally agree. It makes me really sad that the separation, seemingly, will cost Daniel the teacher that he loves.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHp4FCc73CF8VP7GMhPDk8GAG6kS-Qh_QU2eFRohERJNufIzoIXsk7pEBlKygHCkVbe5wLwi1EqlF2poZtxLx0ErZLWcfcyXjk__ffXKXUaH6znM23O8Cky7mdUvdDTeD_gI8pAZAzaNHi/s1600/goosfraba.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHp4FCc73CF8VP7GMhPDk8GAG6kS-Qh_QU2eFRohERJNufIzoIXsk7pEBlKygHCkVbe5wLwi1EqlF2poZtxLx0ErZLWcfcyXjk__ffXKXUaH6znM23O8Cky7mdUvdDTeD_gI8pAZAzaNHi/s320/goosfraba.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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<br />Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019603148061854650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8696163514585665031.post-12650810214207033942015-08-27T09:28:00.000-07:002015-09-14T06:27:25.749-07:00Fight<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
So. </div>
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This happened.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd2Wf0JBwMP34LOaR5HGEQbizNB7sbgj7W1hQw6YKgTv_Mz53kDjTBW2vdQkJkk7f5y7epEf9X0CkHN0CJxd_PwzWmU48q5i2C0CBBCte-XjOwxqKPaEREU93ZbKivb7wARDRb1CUv7dQV/s1600/daniels+glasses.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd2Wf0JBwMP34LOaR5HGEQbizNB7sbgj7W1hQw6YKgTv_Mz53kDjTBW2vdQkJkk7f5y7epEf9X0CkHN0CJxd_PwzWmU48q5i2C0CBBCte-XjOwxqKPaEREU93ZbKivb7wARDRb1CUv7dQV/s320/daniels+glasses.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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This was not an accident or a "boys-will-be-boys" type of moment.</div>
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This was bullying.</div>
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A you-bugged-me-so-I-am-going-to-rip-these-off-your-face-and-break-them-ha-ha moment. And <g class="gr_ gr_502 gr-alert gr_gramm Punctuation only-ins replaceWithoutSep" data-gr-id="502" id="502">oh</g> by the way, I am going to wrap my little hands around your neck and squeeze.</div>
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Now, I <i>know </i>that Daniel can be a button pusher. I just really hope he learns to <i>not </i>do that anymore.</div>
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I am really sad and angry. Daniel said he felt the same way.</div>
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I was proud that he didn't fight back. </div>
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Until I heard that he is going to have consequences for fighting because of his "provoking."</div>
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Daggum.</div>
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Now I am struggling. We have worked and taught Daniel to be gentle. To not fight. To not punch. Now I am kind of regretting it. </div>
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One of my favorite aspects of <i>who Daniel is </i>is the ferocity. The stubborn loyalty. The fight. The boldness.</div>
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This brought out my mama bear in a whole new way.</div>
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I pray for wisdom and backbone. This isn't Daniel's fight alone. Even if he was in anyway wrong, he is MY CHILD and this was NOT OK.</div>
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And <i>the. next. time.</i> this happens, Daniel has my full support to own his crazy and SMASH.</div>
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Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019603148061854650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8696163514585665031.post-88445290854276022412015-08-27T08:35:00.001-07:002015-08-27T08:35:23.528-07:00School: Round ThreeSchool is off to a good start.<br />
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Grace is in middle school! How did that even happen?</div>
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Claire and Daniel are in 3rd grade this year.</div>
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Wyatt is in 2nd. </div>
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Last year Daniel did a 1st / 2nd split. It was what he needed to begin trying to catch up. I am so blown away when I think back to the child that he was two years ago!</div>
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Two years ago! That's right! He has been home for TWO years now. It is amazing to me to realize how far he has come in terms of growth. God is definitely in the business of binding broken hearts and building families.</div>
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I praise God for the work that He has done in my heart through bringing Daniel into our family. Some of the things that we deal with are not things that I ever envisioned for my life, but it is LIFE. You just do what you have to do and the more you do it, the more you realize it isn't a big deal. You learn to find the treasure in all of your children's hearts. There are the obvious gifts and then the hidden ones. The obvious tend to change with the season, but the hidden gifts seem to be the ones that God has planted and nurtured like a precious seed. Those seeds are the ones that root down deep and then flourish, given the proper nourishment.</div>
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May we all search for the seeds that God has planted within ourselves and others and upon finding those seeds, may we cherish and care for them in order to allow them to reach their full potential.</div>
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Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019603148061854650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8696163514585665031.post-90453772398796805352015-05-27T19:22:00.000-07:002015-08-19T14:12:14.217-07:00Slipping through my fingersI think that too many times, we parents parent with the end game in mind. As in, "Please don't let my child grow up and still wear his Superman shorts pulled up to his chest." Or more seriously, "What will my child do with his life? How will he turn out?"<br>
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I really struggle with that. Being in the moment is something that I often have to force myself to do. If you have read many of my posts I think my impatience is a common theme. Ha.<br>
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The danger with parenting the end game is that you can miss the beauty of the here and now. Any enjoyment can be soured by worry or conjecture.<br>
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There was a video flying around the adoption circles a few weeks back and it related to RAD (reactive attachment disorder). I watched about half of it and turned it off. Honestly, the guy's voice grated on me, to say nothing of the content. I should know better than to put things like that into my head. My head, specifically, because I think for some people it is a validation and a comfort to have an idea of what is going on in their child's mind, but for me it just makes me a hypochondriac, not for myself, but for my kid; watching every symptom, giving a WebMD worthy diagnoses. Instead of just being in the moment and dealing with the behaviors as they come.<br>
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Years ago I worked in a hospital here in town. I had a trainer with me for six weeks and he would coach me through everything. He was a great guy and we had great philosophical discussions while we walked down long, fluorescent lit hallways. One of the things I struggled with in training was wanting people to like me. Let's face it, if someone's learning to draw blood on your arm, it isn't abnormal to <i>not</i> like them. But someone <i>not liking me </i>could wreck my entire day. It didn't matter that they knew nothing about me to form an opinion except for the fact that I woke them up at 4 a.m. to draw vials of blood, it would wreck me. Once I verbalized my fear about someone not liking me and the trainer responded "Why do you even care?"<br>
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Why? I know it isn't logical to let someone else's opinion (especially someone who barely knows you) impact your feelings about yourself or others, but, in true Type A, first-born fashion I want people to like me. To praise me.<br>
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This extends to I want people to like my children. To praise my children.<br>
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And when they don't? I obsess.<br>
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It is a problem, I know.<br>
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I think that bringing Daniel into our home has made me have to deal with this more head-on than I have had to in the past. Because some people aren't very positive about things. Some people hear that he was adopted at the age of eight from an Eastern European orphanage and their opinions are set in stone.<br>
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I literally had someone tell me that Daniel needed to learn that actions have consequences. Example: Do a bad thing = do extra chores AND people don't like you. I totally agree that is something that children need to learn. Then she went on to paint a very bleak, institutionalized future for him if I didn't pound that concept into him.<br>
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Why would someone who had extremely limited contact with him even say something like that to me? Does she think we aren't teaching him things?<br>
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Do I give a rip what she thinks?<br>
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I can envision many possible futures for all my children. I pray that they love God, that they pick faithful, Godly spouses and have nice families of their own someday and that at the end of their lives they are surrounded by people who love them, who will care for them and honor them.<br>
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But right now? I want to be in the moment and enjoy the daily wonders of having my children. They really do grow too quickly. Grace will be in middle school next year. Slipping through my fingers, for sure. This is my declaration that I won't worry about those things because they will come soon enough, but these little, precious people will grow up too quick and this time will be gone and I don't want to look back on it and think that I spoke anything but victory into their futures.Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019603148061854650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8696163514585665031.post-26268884164696572882015-05-19T06:11:00.001-07:002015-05-19T06:11:31.467-07:00Quick updateSo. I totally know it has been a crazy, long time since I last wrote.<br />
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If you could look at my back page for my blog, you would see many starts to many different ideas, but they never would flow and so there they sit.</div>
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The way that I write my blog is that I sit down and type. And if nothing worthwhile comes, I stop.</div>
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Things have been going great around here. Maybe that is why I haven't written anything. Last year we had definitely bumpy times around Daniel's birthday. This year was bumpy, but not as bad, and I think that is the benefit of giving yourself time before you analyze things. Time gives you a perspective that the moment never can. We have a solid year under our belt and are two and a half months away from having two years.</div>
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I think the thing that surprises me about coming up on this anniversary is that things are still so new sometimes. I mean, it's not like having a two year old that you have been able to watch God shaping from day one, so from time to time he will say something or do something and I will just be in awe at where <i>that</i> came from. The last almost two years have been like watching a flower blossom because you think that it is beautiful at every stage, from when it is the tight bud to when it starts to open, but the more it opens, the more aspects you can enjoy; the fragrance, the multitude of petals, the variation of colors. It is awesome to watch. (And I don't mean the Californian "awesome, dude," I mean an awesome awareness of God's work).</div>
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We have had an extra kid staying with us. He has been here since mid-December. His name is Raheem and he is from Saudi Arabia. It has been a total blast! We eat Arabic food, which is drool worthy. We laugh. Raheem especially loves Daniel, because Daniel is such a tough kid who loves to roughhouse. I think having Raheem come has cemented Daniel into our family in a new way, because Daniel is no longer the new guy.<br />
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We celebrated Daniel's birthday on Saturday. We had a fun time. He decided that morning that he wanted a cake with his face on it.<br />
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Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019603148061854650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8696163514585665031.post-21844731687750266982015-01-30T12:03:00.000-08:002015-01-30T12:03:25.966-08:00From My Journal Dated 10/2013Dear Friend,<br />
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You said in a Facebook post that you loved my son. That post have have taken a moment to send off, but touched my heart in a lasting way. A mama, weary of rejection, cried tears at the kitchen sink after checking her phone and seeing that she wasn't really alone. And although rejection has been the theme of a young soul's journey on earth up to this point, that change is afoot thanks to love.<br />
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Dear Sweet Friend who I Lean on for Prayer Support,<br />
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You are a soul mother to me with your wisdom and your healing communication with God. Knowing you are praying over us gives me faith to face what may come. Faith to believe God is working it out.<br />
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Dear Song Leader,<br />
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Thank you for the songs you chose today. The reminder of why we choose to love was so timely. Because somedays that is exactly what this redeeming kind of love comes down to. A choice. "I will love because You loved me."<br />
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Dear Church Half a World Away,<br />
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Knowing our Sunday communion is communing not only with our Savior, but with our spiritual family as well. Blessings to you for your support and encouragement.<br />
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Love,<br />
CrystalCrystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019603148061854650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8696163514585665031.post-86370626930437614042014-12-31T08:59:00.000-08:002014-12-31T10:04:13.115-08:00Every New Beginning Comes From Some Other Beginning's EndHere we are. All of us. On the cusp of a new year. The New Year. (capital N, capital Y)<br />
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Some are so ready to kiss 2014 adios and plunge into a fresh start.<br />
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Others sit in this last day of the year and dread the new one.<br />
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My dad's best friend is going off of life support tomorrow. Celebrating tonight and welcoming tomorrow makes my heart literally ache.<br />
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I ache for my daddy. I ache for the family. I ache for myself, even though I am on the bottom of the list. Just another indicator of time marching on.<br />
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I have been very introspective today. There is a kind of beauty in life that can only be seen in the pain. It is in the pain that we get a glimpse of what life was meant to be. Joy without pain. That is how God made us to live, so when we experience the awfulness that sin has brought into the world, our hearts naturally yearn even more for the perfection we were created for.<br />
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I used to work at the hospital. I would run all over the place, from the ER to the ICU to the maternity ward and everywhere in between. Such a spectrum. Rejoicing and heartbreak, just a floor apart.<br />
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Once when I was pushing my cart around, I had a thought about how scary birth is for a baby. Everything that he has ever known…gone and changing. Warm and comfortable in his dark little world, until one day he starts not quite fitting how he used to. Somehow it isn't so comfortable anymore.<br />
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But it is all he knows.<br />
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And then pain! Squeezing, rhythmic. He doesn't know what is going on. Surely his life is ending. Everything he ever knew…gone.<br />
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Wrenched out and away from his entire world.<br />
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And then eyes open.<br />
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Light.<br />
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Love like he never even knew existed.<br />
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People who have been eagerly anticipating him. Holding him. Loving him. Rejoicing in his coming.<br />
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The end of one thing, but the beginning of an unimaginably better thing.<br />
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This will happen twice.<br />
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I will end this year sharing my favorite poem, like I did last year. A poem to live by:<br />
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<i>To live content with small means;</i></div>
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<i>To seek elegance rather than luxury,</i></div>
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<i>and refinement rather than fashion;</i></div>
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<i>To be worthy, not respectable;</i></div>
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<i>and wealthy, not rich;</i></div>
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<i>To study hard,</i></div>
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<i>think quietly, </i></div>
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<i>talk gently, </i></div>
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<i>act frankly;</i></div>
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<i>To listen to stars and birds,</i></div>
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<i>To babes and sages, with open heart,</i></div>
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<i>to bear all cheerfully,</i></div>
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<i>do all bravely,</i></div>
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<i>await occasions, </i></div>
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<i>hurry never.</i></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Cuprum; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; text-align: center;">
<i>...To let the spiritual, unbidden and unconscious,</i></div>
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<i>grow up through the common.</i></div>
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<i>This is to be my symphony.</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Cuprum; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; text-align: center;">
<i>-Wm. Henry Channing</i></div>
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I wish you all a blessed New Year, full of love, adventure and <i>becoming. </i>May each of us live every moment to the fullest, seek God's guidance and when that isn't clear, seek wise friends. May we revel in the cold air and soak in the summer days. May we, each of us, hold one another dear and tight, so that when we are apart we can remember the feel of love. May we dance in the kitchen at least once a month to a song that is ridiculous and happy. May we have open hands and open hearts ready to receive the people and blessings that God sends our way. Amen.</div>
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<br />Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019603148061854650noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8696163514585665031.post-46234751521472171332014-12-29T08:32:00.001-08:002014-12-29T08:32:51.034-08:00The Other MotherAs time plods on in our home, thoughts of the whole "adoption" thing kind of dim because it stops being anything out of the ordinary and simply becomes…well, life.<div>
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Logically I know that Daniel came from another mother. He has been asking these questions lately. Questions that I am at a loss to answer. Partly because I, quite simply, don't know, and partly because what I do know isn't heartwarming. </div>
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I don't know much. A name. A situation.</div>
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This used to bother me. I wanted answers. I wanted to know the "why's."</div>
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What God gave me was a dream. </div>
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I was sitting in a small room, like an exam room at a doctor's office. I had Daniel in my lap. Across from me sat a beautiful woman. </div>
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Golden hair. Blue eyes. Freckles. Healthy.</div>
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She seemed to almost radiate light.</div>
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In my dream, I wondered who she was and was filled with the knowledge that this was Daniel's biological mother.</div>
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My mind said "No" it isn't logical that she would have looked like this, given the information I have.</div>
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Then I was filled with warmth and love and I heard God say, "This is how <i>I </i>see her."</div>
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All the anger that I had toward her dissolved after the dream, back in January of this year.</div>
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The thing is, all parents want to protect their kids' stories. Especially adoptive parents who have an ounce of caring, because really, even in the most ideal adoptive situation, there is heartache and loss. Profound loss.</div>
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My son's story is nothing that I sit and flippantly talk about. Ever. It is sacred.</div>
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And yet, as time passes and the wrinkles start to smooth out, I can go days without thinking about him being adopted. Weeks without thinking about the yuck he came out of. </div>
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The irony of reaching that point is now Daniel starts with the questions. And the speculations. And the fantastic stories.</div>
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Do I ignore it? Validate it? Lay the facts out, sparing no hurt?</div>
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The fact is there was a woman, someone who I have never, nor will ever meet, yet who's decisions have changed my life and to whom I am connected with until the day I die. And she is one big question mark. I can't help loving her and feeling compassion toward her. And thinking about what a cool kid she had and how it is sad that she lost out, for whatever reasons, on seeing him grow and develop.</div>
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And if the above is true for me, it is even more true for Daniel.</div>
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Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019603148061854650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8696163514585665031.post-69060675628964099262014-11-26T20:47:00.000-08:002014-11-29T05:29:56.064-08:00Consider It Pure Joy<span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 25px;">Last Sunday I was speaking with a friend of mine who brought home an 8 month old from the Congo two years ago this week.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fdfeff; text-align: justify; text-indent: 25px;"><span style="color: #001320; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #fdfeff; text-align: justify; text-indent: 25px;"><span style="color: #001320; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;">She went on to say that the little one was struggling hard this week. That trauma is real and manifesting itself in this precious child, especially during the anniversary. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fdfeff; text-align: justify; text-indent: 25px;"><span style="color: #001320; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; text-align: justify; text-indent: 25px;"><span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;">Oh, how I </span></span></span><span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;">understand that.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #001320; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #001320; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;">Then she said something that was really a fundamental shift in the way I view those hard times. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #001320; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #001320; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;">Well, really the way that most of us view those hard times. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #001320; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #001320; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;">She said (with her eyes full of the pain she had been watching her son go through) </span><span style="line-height: 21px;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">"Even though it is hard, I am just so thankful and honored that we get to go through this with him."</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 25px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 25px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Wait. What?!</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 25px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; text-align: justify; text-indent: 25px;"><span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;">I will be honest. I was not thankful and honored when, this </span></span></span><span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;">morning, I had to listen to Daniel try and push my buttons over and over by saying, while in time out, "Mommy, listen to me! I want a different mommy!" And, I kid you not, he said it stinking twenty times if he said it once.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #001320; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #001320; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;">It doesn't hurt my feelings, but it is mighty inconvenient when I am trying to get the kids out of the house, but Daniel is in trauma-meltdown-mode because he has had a schedule change at school and one of the aids made him feel overwhelmed and so he is lashing out at me. As much as I would have loved to bundle him up and kick him out of the door so he could catch the bus, I knew that what I needed to do was address the feelings and the behavior and offer redemption. All before school started. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #001320; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #001320; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;">Ugh.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #001320; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #001320; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;">I am SO not enough.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #001320; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #001320; font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 21px;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">And</span></span><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;"> I didn't get breakfast.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #001320; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #001320; font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 21px;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><i>And </i></span></span><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;">I got a migraine.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #001320; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #001320; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;">Let's be honest, I was not considering serving Daniel in that moment pure joy. More like pure inconvenience.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #001320; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #001320; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;">And yet, in James 1: 2-8, we are told:</span></span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 25px;">Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters,</span><span class="nivfootnote" style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #0066aa; font-size: 12px; font-style: italic; font-weight: 700; line-height: 21px; margin-left: 1px; margin-right: 1px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 25px;"><sup><a href="http://biblehub.com/niv/james/1.htm#footnotes" style="color: #0092f2; text-decoration: none;" title="The Greek word for brothers and sisters (adelphoi) refers here to believers, both men and women, as part of God's family; also in verses 16 and 19; and in 2:1, 5, 14; 3:10, 12; 4:11; 5:7, 9, 10, 12, 19.">a</a></sup></span><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 25px;"> whenever you face trials of many kinds, </span><span class="reftext" style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; margin-left: 1px; margin-right: 2px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 25px; vertical-align: text-top;"><a href="http://biblehub.com/james/1-3.htm" style="color: #0092f2; text-decoration: none;"><b>3</b></a></span><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 25px;">because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. </span><span class="reftext" style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; margin-left: 1px; margin-right: 2px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 25px; vertical-align: text-top;"><a href="http://biblehub.com/james/1-4.htm" style="color: #0092f2; text-decoration: none;"><b>4</b></a></span><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 25px;">Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. </span><span class="reftext" style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; margin-left: 1px; margin-right: 2px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 25px; vertical-align: text-top;"><a href="http://biblehub.com/james/1-5.htm" style="color: #0092f2; text-decoration: none;"><b>5</b></a></span><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 25px;">If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you. </span><span class="reftext" style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; margin-left: 1px; margin-right: 2px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 25px; vertical-align: text-top;"><a href="http://biblehub.com/james/1-6.htm" style="color: #0092f2; text-decoration: none;"><b>6</b></a></span><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 25px;">But when you ask, you must believe and not doubt, because the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind. </span><span class="reftext" style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; margin-left: 1px; margin-right: 2px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 25px; vertical-align: text-top;"><a href="http://biblehub.com/james/1-7.htm" style="color: #0092f2; text-decoration: none;"><b>7</b></a></span><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 25px;">That person should not expect to receive anything from the Lord. </span><span class="reftext" style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; margin-left: 1px; margin-right: 2px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 25px; vertical-align: text-top;"><a href="http://biblehub.com/james/1-8.htm" style="color: #0092f2; text-decoration: none;"><b>8</b></a></span><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 25px;">Such a person is double-minded and unstable in all they do.</span></span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Tonight when I went to write this post, I was reading the latter part of the scripture. "But when you ask you must believe and not doubt…"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Oh, Lord. I doubt. I am all about praying powerfully and totally believing that Daniel will grow up to love the Lord and serve Him. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">And then I have a day like today and the teacher calls to tell me that (when cornered, in all fairness) Daniel got in a fight on the playground and Daniel lashes out at me because some woman at school </span>sniped<span style="font-family: inherit;"> about his reading skills. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">And then I am tossed like the sea. Doubting God's plan.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Oh, to consider it pure joy.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Even in the tough moments when I am inconvenienced.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">That would be a radical shift.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">This Thanksgiving I am deciding to be thankful for the few conflicts and struggles in our journey that I have experienced through </span>this<span style="font-family: inherit;"> past year, as well as the mounds of wonderful, </span>because<span style="font-family: inherit;"> they are shaping me into who God </span>wants me to be. And so I will CHOOSE to be in the moment, to be filled with determination and grit for these tough times, to take the challenges and use them like a kite uses the wind.<br />
<br />
And I am CHOOSING to speak this. To give these feelings words so that others can also experience that shift in thinking.<br />
<br />
To,<i> maybe,</i> not expect so much out of myself and others.<br />
<br />
To lay down those things that I have prayed for with the faith that God can pick them up.<br />
<br />
To consider it pure joy.<br />
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Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019603148061854650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8696163514585665031.post-74279949537683253442014-10-29T19:22:00.001-07:002014-10-29T19:22:51.220-07:00Sometimes I Want to Whine.I am not going to give into that, though.<br />
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Tonight was parent/teacher conferences.<br />
<br />
<voice of Olaf> "All good things. All good things."<br />
<br />
But sometimes I am just SO TIRED OF IT ALL.<br />
<br />
(Here comes the whine….)<br />
<br />
Sometimes I just want to know how it is going to turn out. (And that it will turn out ok.)<br />
<br />
So, maybe what I really want is for some expert to say, "It is going to be ok, Crystal." And let's face it…not just "ok" I want to know that it will be great.<br />
<br />
I. Want. To. Know.<br />
<br />
And it is times like this that I can almost physically HEAR God telling me to look at Him. He isn't placating me with empty promises and trite phrases. His Spirit is simply telling me to look to Him.<br />
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That maybe, through looking at Him, instead of the homework pages and assessments, I can see who He is. And by seeing who He is, know that He has it all under His control and that everything that will happen will be ever for His glory.<br />
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But, if any of you want to chime in and tell me that it will be ok, I wouldn't mind that a bit.Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019603148061854650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8696163514585665031.post-21570692177522244562014-09-11T06:06:00.002-07:002014-09-11T20:11:42.950-07:00RememberThirteen years ago.<br>
<br>
I was driving to my first day of training for my new job in my orange 1979 Mercedes with the sunroof open. Listening to Oldies 101.7.<br>
<br>
A glorious day.<br>
<br>Clear blue sky. The likes of which only comes after summer finally begins to relinquish its grasp and fall starts to cut in on the dance.<br>
<br>
Delicious and crisp.<br>
<br>
An announcement cuts in. A plane hit a building in New York.<br>
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Ooh. That's too bad. It must have been an accident.<br>
<br>
Not even a blip on my radar of what was to come as I zipped down the road, a happy newlywed, on my way to a new job.<br>
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Then there was another announcement.<br>
<br>
Another plane hit.<br>
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Oh Jesus.<br>
<br>
I still can't fully grasp it.<br>
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I get to the training center and everyone is huddled in the break room. Glued to the 19" Panasonic.<br>
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Images like this assail my brain as I tried to reconcile the world of the day before to the world I was seeing play out in front of me.<br>
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I could go on and on. I could describe that day in perfect detail. How I thought the world was ending. How I watched the news coverage until I could watch no more. How the only thing, besides coverage, was on TV Land and it was the Brady Bunch (where the girls are grown up and sharing a house). How Garth was working late. How I sat on our garage-sale couch, practically catatonic.</div>
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And really, we all have those stories. That day brought us all to our knees. Drew us all closer to those we loved. </div>
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We all said we wouldn't forget. And we haven't.</div>
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But life has a way of going on. It can seem callous that we can move past the tragedies that are as surely a part of life as is living it.</div>
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Yet, there is a beauty in the forgetting. A beauty in the meal after a funeral. A beauty in the new lives that are born into the world that don't even know of the tragedy, except for the stories.</div>
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Because all of those things offer the proof that life goes on.</div>
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Life goes on and you can't remember so much what it was like before, because all of those hurts remade us a bit, and we walk on. And we smile again. And we laugh. And we have new hurts that we don't think we can get through, but we do. And we remember. </div>
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Down through the ages. Thousands of years. The groaning of the Israelites for their deliverance from Egypt. The crying out of those who trust in YAHWEH, calling out for deliverance, even now. The wailing of those who don't even know who they are summoning. <i>"Come."</i> Over and over. Thousands of times. Ten thousands of voices. Millions of reasons. <span style="font-size: large;"><i>"Come. Save."</i></span> The words encapsulating all the pain and questioning and hope in the midst of it. <span style="font-size: x-large;"><i>"Come. Save. Deliver."</i></span> </div>
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We were made for so much more than the most beautiful, perfect thing that this world has to offer, it is no wonder that our souls shy away from the pain.</div>
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Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019603148061854650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8696163514585665031.post-50880974792821158012014-09-09T07:49:00.000-07:002014-09-09T07:58:28.431-07:00Heavy StuffLast night Daniel told me another Secret.<br />
<br />
Secrets are how I have come to refer to the awful stories of his past.<br />
<br />
I know that I have made posts about this sort of subject before, but it floors me every time.<br />
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I mean, look at Daniel…<br />
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You would never know. </div>
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The memories that camp out in his brain. The awful, despicable treatment he received at the hands of "caretakers." </div>
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I am talking "<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Child-Called-It-Courage-Survive/dp/1558743669">A Child Called It</a>" kind of stuff.</div>
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I have, personally, never felt too much anger or contempt for the people who were in his life prior to us showing up, but after last night's story… Ugh. Help me, Jesus.</div>
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But then I remember that Jesus was angry too. Righteous anger. And so maybe my anger isn't wrong. </div>
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I sat on my bed last night. Trying. Trying to let go of the emotions that Daniel's tale had evoked.</div>
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Thoughts of "If only…" plagued my mind. But I believe and know that we got Daniel in God's time. </div>
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Why God???? </div>
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I don't really have a tidy way to wrap this post up, as I set here with tears running down my cheeks.</div>
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I think of all the people who KNEW what was going on. I think of all the family that didn't step forward to care for him. I don't know any of them, but a child isn't born in a vacuum. Even if a mom can't care for him.</div>
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How do you teach a child worth? We try day by day. And he fits in so well. But he will always know that he was systematically neglected, abused. And I don't have a beautiful thing to say to bring closure and explanation for that. Because it is sin. Sin in its darkest, tarriest, most demon-filled form.</div>
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And why does he tell me? What stops him from sharing with Garth? </div>
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I am glad that he can share. And I never want to shut him down. And I suppose there is a dubious honor to being the Keeper.</div>
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People, I have heard two Secrets this summer (since June) and both have WRECKED me. And to know that my baby has those and more to share. If just one of these things had happened to me it would have been the worst event in my life. </div>
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That is all.</div>
Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019603148061854650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8696163514585665031.post-20770334582282225102014-09-02T10:14:00.000-07:002014-09-02T10:36:58.312-07:00HappeningsSchool began in Sponseller-land on the 18th of August.<br />
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Daniel is now at the same school as his siblings which has, so far, proven to be a much better fit for our family.</div>
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Some of the strategies that we have incorporated this year (for those who are wondering) are:</div>
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<li><i><span style="font-size: large;"><b><u>Garth is down as the point of contact for naughty behavior.</u></b></span></i> I got called way too much over way too piddley of things last year and it about gave me a breakdown. And it was totally my own fault that I let it happen. Because I was so worried about having a perfect child that I was trying, by the force of my will, to make it happen. Garth has a better perspective on the minutia than I do. Things that leave me wiped out often just make him laugh.</li>
<li><i><span style="font-size: large;"><b><u>I will not go into his class to help him behave.</u></b></span> </i>Daniel is fully aware of what is expected of him. He quickly grasped the fact, last year, that if he was rotten, I would be called, I would come in and that is what he wanted: mama. This year I told his teacher that my presence in the class should be a reward rather than a "punishment." So now he is working towards me coming in to help rather than a trinket or toy. I think it is a much healthier bribe.</li>
<li><i><b><u><span style="font-size: large;">I have contacts on the inside.</span></u></b></i> Grace, Claire and Wyatt are there to help Daniel make good choices and rat him out when he doesn't. For example, he was taking forever to eat in the cafeteria. I was not aware of the problem and I think that the teacher didn't realize that he was intentionally lollygagging. Claire snitched on him and so we told him that he couldn't eat breakfast at school unless he got to class on time. (He eats breakfast at home either way about it, he is not deprived.) I spoke with the teacher and she told me that he had suddenly began getting to class on time. After a week and a half of not.</li>
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We have come a long way, baby!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVledO8wnBunW86lTtz9HFF4Cy08CfamAaK7R24b2uVYQMcOCXL75bjkOmmIQuk_mbRVo4_wtSvM9tiM9q9KC8Tb4meDLeDPmJQOoGWdBtcVrrE1Dzp0BxCQx7h6a7vWMYr0jLlsYL2z4I/s1600/firstdayofschool.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVledO8wnBunW86lTtz9HFF4Cy08CfamAaK7R24b2uVYQMcOCXL75bjkOmmIQuk_mbRVo4_wtSvM9tiM9q9KC8Tb4meDLeDPmJQOoGWdBtcVrrE1Dzp0BxCQx7h6a7vWMYr0jLlsYL2z4I/s1600/firstdayofschool.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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This is a one year to the day difference. So much more centered.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-_uWfEnABsTZZPYGrm5bKvscXML4wBbdl1rlFXGNPgHNL_Jtw2tgxsBwTy_t1ywekchya7ykO3bTkT-nP_Uy50QAp47l-nPAimczguwjQbJlf9Eq2gqJtZJjtyyv9JSHlsgDDLNpQ-VtQ/s1600/firstday2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-_uWfEnABsTZZPYGrm5bKvscXML4wBbdl1rlFXGNPgHNL_Jtw2tgxsBwTy_t1ywekchya7ykO3bTkT-nP_Uy50QAp47l-nPAimczguwjQbJlf9Eq2gqJtZJjtyyv9JSHlsgDDLNpQ-VtQ/s1600/firstday2.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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This is an "after school" shot.</div>
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Hope things are going well for all of you!</div>
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Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019603148061854650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8696163514585665031.post-54056982469760077592014-08-11T10:07:00.001-07:002014-08-11T14:39:48.826-07:00An Open Letter To The Me Of One Year AgoDear Crystal of August 2013 (and parents in the thick of it everywhere),<br />
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You look like... um, well we won't go there, Sweetie. Go take a shower after you are done reading this.<br />
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I know things are really hard right now. I know you are more tired than you have ever been in your entire life. I know all those negative things that people told you would happen, seem like they are happening. And all of that makes you want to crawl into a hole.<br />
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I know this may seem unbelievable, but it will get better. It may sound trite, but it is truth.<br />
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And the "getting better" will be more than just "getting used to it."<br />
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I know you feel like you can't go anywhere because everyone will stare and judge. Here is a secret, one that it has taken me until just about now to understand: the way you worry about things and apologize for everything makes people look and judge that much more. People do not care about you and your crazy kids nearly as much as you think they do. And if you feel judged because, in the past, you have judged others, well sister, that is called karma.<br />
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Let it go.<br />
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Look around you! I know it seems like everyone else has it together. They don't. I promise. And there is someone, somewhere, who thinks you have it all together, too, and we all know that is a laugh.</div>
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Give yourself grace. God has. Why are you withholding something from yourself that God has freely poured out? Don't be stingy with yourself.</div>
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I know there is all sorts of "wretched me" rhetoric. Don't buy it. You have been fearfully and wonderfully made. The spark of the Divine is in YOU! Just as it is in the Tasmanian devil of a kid you brought home with you. And in the mother who gives you the stink-eye at the zoo because your kid splashed her kid. And while we are at it, I suppose it is in those terrors at church who beat your kid up. </div>
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Capisci?</div>
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You are great at doing things and in your self-supposed aptitude you have taken God off the throne. You feel like He is not efficient enough for you. Not sufficient enough for you.</div>
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A friend will point this out to you, and you will struggle to figure out how to let God take control. Trust me. You are over-thinking this. It is ridiculously simple: Stop. Stop feeling like the earth is crashing down when things don't go according to your plan. Stop taking responsibility for other people's actions. You can only facilitate so much. You can only teach so much. Ultimately your kids will have to show what they are made of. (And a kid with a helicopter parent is often disliked on principle).</div>
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You can't fix everything. You can try. You will try. And some of it will stick. Celebrate what sticks. And stop bashing your head against the wall when it doesn't.</div>
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Drink more water. </div>
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Do more yoga. Learning to meditate and commune with God despite the noise is a holy, powerful skill that will bring you more peace than having everything perfectly quiet.</div>
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You will grow. You will become more beautiful. More special. More strong. More fabulous. </div>
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More fierce.</div>
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You will learn to be shaped instead of broken.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUiGu585H8MwNovpphazzd77sdrB4N130yFYAHFM6rSGtdQIs-XwiNVxBLqqqOLAjnyq7OU3lhvexx4sxGN_dBFsrFLeCvLN-ISA5N71td3tn-kwa0OTJNgWNGbh8RUd8lOK7aPfG70lx5/s1600/GakKl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUiGu585H8MwNovpphazzd77sdrB4N130yFYAHFM6rSGtdQIs-XwiNVxBLqqqOLAjnyq7OU3lhvexx4sxGN_dBFsrFLeCvLN-ISA5N71td3tn-kwa0OTJNgWNGbh8RUd8lOK7aPfG70lx5/s1600/GakKl.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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Now, I know I told you to take a shower, but before you do that, jump up and down a few times. Get the blood flowing. Turn on the keurig so it is ready to go once you are done in the bathroom.</div>
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Breathe.</div>
<br />Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019603148061854650noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8696163514585665031.post-27148077080259117632014-08-05T18:49:00.001-07:002014-08-05T18:49:20.451-07:00One Year Today!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Enjoy, Dear Readers! Thanks for sticking with us. And for your love and prayers.</div>
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<br />Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019603148061854650noreply@blogger.com1