Moore, Oklahoma

I spent most of my growing up years living in south Oklahoma City. We left when I was fourteen, when my dad got a promotion and the company moved us away. I remember having regular tornado drills when I was in school. The children would file out of classrooms and into the hallway, sitting cross-legged facing the walls, leaning forward and covering our heads with our hands. Somewhere along about fifth grade, I remember that it was decided that children should sit with their backs to the wall instead, as this position would provide greater protection for the spine. I remember thinking at the time that if this were a real tornado, I would not feel very secure. It seemed such a vulnerable position.

Oddly enough, considering how prevalent tornadoes are there, most homes and schools in that area are built without any basement. My mother had an in home daycare when I was a child. I have memories of piling into my mother's bedroom closet with my friends waiting for the all clear sirens to sound. We were cramped, sweaty, scared, and sitting on shoes. Tornado sirens were a matter of course in my childhood.  I praise God and thank Him for the fact that I never had to ride out an actual twister. 

Today, a massive tornado ripped its way though a suburb of Oklahoma City called Moore. I still have a number of friends living in the area, and as the news reached me, I prayed for my friends. I asked God to keep them safe, and all the other residents in the path of danger. Though I am truly grateful that no one I know lost life or property to the storm today, my heart is devastated by what I am seeing on the news tonight. When I heard that an elementary school took a direct hit, I felt like a bus was parked on my chest. One of my friends is a teacher in Moore, and she posted on facebook that she was taking shelter with her students. I thought of how it must feel to be entrusted to keep other people's children safe, and how terrifying it would be to know that a monster tornado is bearing down on your child's school and all you can do is trust that God and the school staff will take care of your baby.

To say my heart is broken is such an understatement it's laughable. The tears keep coming in waves. I can't shake it. I can't get that sense of distance that we use to shield ourselves from grief. I keep putting myself in the shoes of those parents who still haven't found their children, and whose children have lost their lives. I keep putting myself in the shoes of the children, riding out such a storm with nothing more than a hallway wall and their own hands to protect them. And even those children who were able to emerge safely from the rubble, probably had no home to go to, no bed to lay in tonight.

As you can imagine, my kids got a lot more hugs, kisses, cuddles, and "I love you's" tonight, even to the point that Boo begged, "let me GO, Mom!" And yeah, when Boo asked for a milkshake and I didn't have any ice cream on hand, I grabbed my keys and headed immediately to the grocery store. And yeah, when the baby went to sleep for the night, I held him up on my shoulder and kissed and nuzzled his little head long after I usually lay him down.

To say "my heart is in Moore" is much more than a nice sentiment for me. It's much more that just a graphic to post on facebook. My emotions are wrapped up so tightly in this event, I don't even know how to explain my feelings. I would ask that each of you take the time to devote some serious prayer to the sake of those who have survived this devastation...and the families of those who have not.

A little piece of typical

The plans were in place. The stars were aligned. My husband had the day off work. The babysitter was lined up. The company Christmas party was a GO! A Saturday night spent enjoying ourselves among adults, eating free food and winning prizes...I could hardly believe that it all came together.

Then the phone rang.

The babysitter was sick. But her younger sister graciously offered to take her place. Which was fine with me and my husband...but Boo was devastated! It was about 11am when I told him there was a change in plans. We were supposed to leave at 5pm. I was trying to balance his need for advance notice of a plan change with his tendency to obsess and fret over the change if given too much time to think about it. We were in the car running some errands. Tears streamed down his little face and my heart was breaking. I HATE that something so seemingly simple can be so difficult for him to cope with. He kept repeating that he didn't want A to come, he wanted N. He said that it wasn't fair, and that he doesn't like it when plans change. He says changing plans is like breaking a promise.

Over the next half hour or more, he would calm down, and then ramp up again in cycles. He asked if Daddy could stay home with him instead. I told him Daddy was going to the party. He asked if Grams could come. I told him it was too late for Grams to be out. He said "It's too late for Mammo too, right?" Yes dear, and the tears came again. Eventually he stopped worrying about it, and started watching the clock. He managed to get excited about A coming over. When she arrived, he took her to his room and they started playing with his hotwheels. By the time we left, he was too involved with the babysitter to even say goodbye.

I warned the sitter that bedtime could be difficult without me there, that he is very resistant to going to bed without his mom. He usually won't even go to bed for Mammo! I told her to try, but not to worry about it if he really fought against it. I was prepared to find a very tired little boy waiting for me at the end of the night. Daddy and I had a wonderful time at the party. I enjoyed being out with my sweetheart for the first time in a long while. We arrived back home at about 10:30 and found our sweet Boo sound asleep in his bed! I was astounded. I asked A if he had given her any trouble and she said that everything went great. She said he didn't want to go to bed at first, but she told him it would be very late before I got home. He finally agreed to lay down, telling her "I don't want you to lay in my bed with me because you're not my mom." She checked on him about 10 minutes later and he was sound asleep. And it was only about 45 minutes later than his normal bedtime.

Sunday morning at church, both of A's parents asked me about the evening, and I told them that they are not allowed to move away at least until Boo is grown. It feels pretty amazing after five and a half years to have an actual babysitter (two, even!) whom I can call on when we want to go out, and not feel like I have to depend solely on the generosity of family members. We've picked up one more little piece of "typical" on our road through Boo's life. Nothing else needs to show up under the tree to make this one of the best Christmases ever for me!

Say Hey!

Today is a big day, friends. Emotions and passions are running high on both sides of this year's vote. Sometimes when we feel so strongly about things that mean so much to us, it can cloud our vision of the overall big picture. I have seen so much political talk and posting, and so much complaining about political talk and posting...honestly, I'm just ready for it to be over with already! But I do have something to talk with you about that I feel is important.

I will not tell you how I am going to vote. (Though those of you who know me well can probably predict my vote with some degree of accuracy.) I don't want to know how you voted either. It doesn't matter to me. But here is what does matter to me: Please don't make assumptions about how someones vote reflects their personal opinions and values. It is unfair to make blanket conclusions about how I think and feel on certain issues based solely on which political candidate I support. For example, I have some dear friends who are devout believers in Christ and have a heart for His Church and His people, and who believe that the best reflection of how to love and care for others is through the democratic platform. I have other dear friends who are just as devout and have just as much heart for the same Christ, who believe the best reflection of how to love and care for others is through the platform of the republican party. It would be ridiculous for anyone to assume that a republican vote means that a person lacks love or compassion for homosexuals or victims of rape, for example. It would be equally unfair for one to assume that a democratic vote means that a person lacks faith or doesn't care about babies being aborted.

You can talk all you want about what your vote means to you, and what it reflects about you. But please have enough common sense and enough respect to realize that you do not know (unless someone specifically tells you) what another person's vote means to them, or what it reflects about their values and beliefs. Don't tell me what I think, tell me what YOU think. Don't assume that I must be deluded, misguided, or undereducated if I don't agree with your way of seeing things. Realize that people can desire the same end result yet have differing opinions about the best way to accomplish that result.

And please, please, PLEASE, for goodness sake, don't treat this election as if it is the greatest pivotal moment in all of history. Is it important? Yes. Does it matter? Yes. Should you vote? Yes. Will the win/loss of a particular candidate usher in the apocalypse? NO! Will the United States cease to exist if your candidate looses? NO! But do you know what? Even if it did...guess what? God still reins! Civilizations have risen and fallen throughout all of human history, and two things still remain: the human race, and it's Creator. We are going to be ok! God is in control, not Obama or Romney. Our immediate future is uncertain and I know that can be scary. But we should not allow our concerns to become our focus. Let's put our faith and trust in God, our ballots in our polling places, and our hands in one another's. Let's remember that we are all in this boat together no matter who takes the helm, and that the Lord rules over us all.

Most of all, please remember these words from one of my favorite songs by FFH:

However long our feet have walked on this world
We’ve all lived long enough to know
That sometimes life will go our way
And other times it won’t
But still I’ve got this joy inside of me
With each new dawn I do believe to

Say hey, it’s a good day
Even if things aren’t going my way
Jesus is Lord and I am saved
So, say hey, it’s a good day

Circumstance and situations change
You know life can turn on a dime
But there’s a constant hope and peace
That I have come to find
And it’s all because of who God is
And that He is alive and I am His, so

Say hey, it’s a good day
Even if things aren’t going my way
Jesus is Lord and I am saved
So, say hey, it’s a good day

We are all as happy as we make our minds up to be
I have just decided that nothing’s gonna take this joy from me

Say hey, it’s a good day
Even if things aren’t going my way
Jesus is Lord and I am saved
So, say hey, it’s a good day

Boo's Menu

As most of you already know, self-restricted diet is a huge issue for Boo, as well as many other spectrum kiddos. He can be very hungry and begging for food, but everything we suggest gets shot down. One day, out of pure exasperation with listing the options for the hundredth time, I wrote down all the items that Boo is typically willing to eat that we have in the house. I handed it to him and told him he could choose any item from the list. He took a quick glance and chose a food. Just like that. I was blown away. Boo is so much better with visual communication than verbal, I guess this was just easier for him to process. Since then, I keep this list handy at all times. He has even learned to ask for it. It cracks me up to watch him peruse the list of foods and choose an item, often by pointing to it, as if ordering from a restaurant menu.

Boo, Moses, and the Gospel

Last night at bedtime Boo and I were reading bible stories. We are reading out of two different bible story books right now. One is very simplistic and one is closer to the original language of the bible. From the first, more advanced one we read part of the story of creation. When we got the the part about the seventh day, and how God made it holy, I stopped to check for understanding. He did not know what the word holy means. I explained that it means set apart, made different than the others. Then I asked him what was different about the seventh day. I got the blank stare. Then I rephrased the question.
"What did God do on the first six days?"
"He made all the things in the world."
"And what did he do on the seventh day?"
"He took a rest."
"So what is different about the seventh day that makes it holy?"
"God rested."

We moved on to the other story book where we picked up from our previous reading about Moses. We read about Moses growing up in the palace, then running away, then seeing the burning bush. When God spoke to Moses he told him to remove his shoes because the ground was holy ground. I paused again to check for understanding. Again, we discussed the meaning of the word holy. I asked him what was different about that particular ground where Moses was that made it holy. He thought and studied the picture. His response was "It was made of sand instead of sidewalk." I bit my lip, stifled my giggle, and continued.
"Well, that's one thing that's different. But what special thing happened in that place?"
"God talked to Moses."
"That's right!"

We also talked about how we would feel if God showed up and talked to us. Then we went on with the story. When Moses approached Pharaoh (In this book described as "the mean king") and told him that God said to let the Israelites go, it really bothered Boo that the king said no. He couldn't understand why the king would be mean to the Israelites, why he wouldn't listen to God. His tender heart shone through as he pointed to the picture in the book and traced his finger down from the top of the page onto the face of the angry looking Egyptian king, and he spoke the simplest, most sincere gospel message I think I have ever heard. "He needs God's love."

Boo's First Day of Kindergarten!

The night before Boo's big day, I was a nervous wreck. Ok, the whole day. Ok. Week. FINE....MONTH! Sheesh! Thankfully, I was the only one showing signs of anxiety. I packed up his lunchbox with a large variety of items, not knowing what he would be willing to eat come lunch time. I sent peanut butter, sandwich crackers, graham crackers, fruity cheerios, a granola bar, fruit snacks, a blueberry muffin, yogurt, and a Capri Sun. I set it in the fridge and went to bed...and tossed and turned.

The next morning, when it was time to wake him, he did not want to get out of bed. He informed me that he did not need school, and he would just sleep all day. This is the same kid who woke me up at 5:30 am just the day before! I tried everything I could think of to motivate him...finally I stumbled upon just the right thing. I reminded him that his backpack was filled with his supplies for school, and I told him that one of the pencils I had put in his pencil box had SPIDERMAN on it! I invited him to come with me and check out the pencil, and that was all it took. We looked at all his pencils, repacked his backpack, and put on his favorite Spiderman outfit. After that, it was all I could do to keep him in the house long enough to get my shoes on and grab my keys. He was on his way!

It was a thirty minute drive to his school. My stomach was churning. About halfway there, he suddenly announced "I don't want you there." I assured him that I wasn't planning to stay, just to walk him to his classroom and get him settled. He rebuffed me. "I know where my classroom is, Mom." So I just told him that I needed to talk with Mrs. W and he was satisfied. We arrived at the school and Boo marched right in the front door without even checking to see if I was with him.

Just inside the door sat a lovely lady, Mrs. M, whose sole responsibility at school is to greet each child as they enter, give them a hug and greet them with the heart-felt words "God loves you and so do I, have a great day." She has been doing this as a loving volunteer for many years. She is 90 years old, and the kindest soul. Boo seemed a little distrustful of her eagerness and turned down the offer of a hug. But when she told me that she offers them to parents also, I gladly accepted. I told her I really needed one that day. And I did!

Each year Mrs. W chooses a different theme for her classroom for the year. This year's theme is Whales: We Have a Loving, Everlasting Savior. There are whales everywhere! Beginning here, outside the classroom, and all over the place inside. It looks totally awesome. We entered the room and Boo began to wander around happily. He was checking everything out, just doing his own thing. When he saw the reading area with the big pile of pillows, he could not resist diving right in.

He gazed longingly out at the playground.

He and Mrs. W investigated how dark it is inside the bathroom if you close the door without turning on the light. (She was trying to tell him the importance of remembering to turn on the light switch outside the bathroom before entering, and he assured her that he could see in the dark because of his great eyesight. LOL)

I finally got him focused on the job at hand. Together, we found the desk with his name on it, and filled it with the school supplies from his backpack. When he first opened the top of the desk, his eyes widened and he exclaimed "This is my secret lab! This is where I keep all my things that control my robots!"

Once this was accomplished, there was no putting it off. It was time for me to go. I had to leave my baby in his kindergarten classroom for an entire day. I took a deep breath, gave him a kiss, and said goodbye. I walked to the door, looked back across the class, and choked back tears. There sat my Boo in his big kid chair at his big kid desk in his big kid school. I was SO NOT READY for this! But he was. It was clear he was ready. He barely took notice that I was leaving. I walked out into the hallway and found some other mothers and staff out there who chatted with me. I wanted to run out the door and let out the sobs that were pushing at my throat. Another mother of a child in Boo's class joined the conversation, and she asked me if I was still in the room when Boo made his announcement. Mental head slap...oh boy. I said I hadn't been, and asked what he said. She told me he had stood and informed the class that whales are actually called orcas, and that they are really a type of dolphin. Yep, not even five minutes into the first day and he was trying to lead the class. That is the Boo that I know and love!

Soon it was time for chapel. The students begin the day with chapel every Wednesday, and the parents were invited to join. I waited in the lunch room so that Boo could go with his class and not be distracted by seeing me. I came into the sanctuary and he was seated so still and quietly with his class that I had to do a double take.

I sat in the back and swallowed back tears as they began the morning by singing these songs:

At the end of the chapel service, the children were asked to meet out front for class pictures. Oh boy. I did not expect this on the very first day. I had not prepared Boo. He hates having his picture taken. He almost always refuses to cooperate. I hung back and watched him go out with his class, hoping that going with the crowd would work in our favor. Sure enough, by the time I got outside, he was posing pleasantly with the other kids. His combined kindergarten/1st grade class is composed of eight girls and two boys. They are all totally adorable. After the class pictures I hugged him one more time and wished him a good day. Then I told him to go back to class with his friends. He walked down the sidewalk hand in hand with Mrs. W, never so much as glancing back toward me. I sighed. Then I thought again of this sign hanging just inside the front door:

And I knew that my Boo was in exactly the right place.

Say What, Now?

So, I had a doctor appointment this morning. Because it was a new doctor for me, they asked me a lot of different questions about my medical history and that of my family. None of it was surprising to me. That is, until they asked if anyone in my family had any birth defects. I thought about it for a moment and said I couldn't think of any. The nurse then began to name a long list of possible conditions that would belong in this category.

Cystic Fibrosis...Sickle Cell...Down Syndrome...Cerebral Palsy...Spina Bifida...Autism...

Back. The. Truck. Up.

Autism? As a birth defect? Are you serious? This completely threw me for a loop. I stammered a bit. Well, yes, there is autism in our family. But never in a million years would I have thought of it as a birth defect! Which is exactly what I told the nurse. It was an awkward moment, and she tried to offer an explanation, but I stopped her. I told her it was ok, I just don't think of it that way. Frankly, any explanation she would have tried to give me would have only made it worse.

My son is not defective. He is not damaged. He is not flawed. He is not less-than-whole. He is uncommon. And the nature of his uncommonness presents challenges to him and to those who interact with him. But just because we don't fully understand autism doesn't mean that it is a defect! Who knows, perhaps it is an evolution! Perhaps, as my pastor suggested just a few days ago, it is a glimpse into the wonder of God's creation. He proposed that autism gives us a peak into the vastness of the capacity of the human mind as it was originally created, before sin entered the world and fouled up all manor of things.

It is our nature to want to categorize things. We want everything to fit into neat little patterns and hierarchies. When everything fits into its proper pigeon hole we feel that we understand where we stand. We feel that we are in control. But this is an illusion. We can't control life. We can't contain misfortune. We can't bottle difficulty. And in trying to do so, all we manage to do is build walls between people. We tell our children there is an "us" and a "them." Anyone who is not like me is "other." Anyone who doesn't do things like I do is "defective."

Well, let me just set the record straight. My son is not defective. He is not other. He is not wrong. He just is. He doesn't need to be fixed. He needs to be loved and understood and supported. He needs to be valued, encouraged, and protected.