One Happy Camper!

With having autism, Olivia usually gets the short end of the stick.  Dan and I often find ourselves feeling so bad for her as she tries to fit in with other children.  We struggle to see the positive when Olivia is "the weird kid" or "the meltdown kid".  We fight with our own pride issues when we choose not to be embarrassed when she is inappropriate in public.  In general, daily life is hard.  Then, every once in a while, we get the amazing joy of seeing her blossom and flourish.  And sometimes, we even get to see autism as a gift.  Yesterday was one of those days.  

We are very blessed to have a special needs camp in our state and even more blessed to receive a scholarship so Olivia could attend.  For months, we have been talking about it and the last couple of weeks have been full of funny conversations that included why you can't bring every toy you own to camp, why Mom and Dad can't be campers too, and why it isn't okay to kiss other campers so they will be your friend.  We have been counting the days until we leave for camp until Olivia practically vibrated with excitement.  

The day finally came.  We drove to the camp and along the way Olivia would randomly yell "Ya-hoo!" and make what she calls "fireworks sounds".  She asked "Are we there yet?" about 3000 times.  She talked nonstop about what she was going to do at camp and how she was going to make lots of friends who are just like her.  It was a long drive.  Finally the moment arrived.  We pulled into the parking area and several camp counselors appeared out of no where to haul Olivia's bags to her cabin.  Another counselor introduced herself to Olivia and told her that she would take her to meet her one-on-one counselor.  Without a single look back, Olivia was off.  Soon she was in the middle of a group of counselors who where quietly welcoming Olivia with this strange, almost silent excitement.  Obviously, the counselors are well trained in dealing with kids who have sensory issues and can have bad reactions to loud noise.  This was a good sign for a nervous Mama. Then, as I dropped off her meds to the camp nurse, Olivia disappeared with her counselor into a crowd of little campers.  We were sent to meet her at her cabin to say goodbye. We passed a few kiddos who where having minor meltdowns, worrying about the personal belongings and one camper who was fighting counselors who wanted to change her after she had an accident.  Finally we found Olivia and, of course, she was talking non stop to her counselor about how she wanted to hunt for frogs and play with all of her new friends.  It was apparent that, while I was struggling with separation anxiety, Olivia was just fine.  I bent down and whispered in her ear that it was time to say good by.  In typical Olivia style, she went to her "this is how I should react" mode and burst into tears.  I knew right away that she was just doing what she thought was appropriate in this situation.  I took her outside to say good by to her dad and brother and she continued to whimper.  I bent down and said, "Did you see the pool with the giant water slides?".  The crying stop instantaneously and all was well again.  We walked with Olivia across the camp ground until it was time for us to head to the car and her to head to the dinner hall.  We said goodbye and Olivia turned, yelled goodbye over her shoulder and was gone.  No looks back.  No last minute regrets about coming to camp.  Just pure excitement for this new adventure.  Our little trio of Dan, me, and Eli walked to the car and my heart ached to leave my sweet girl but I was so excited for her.

On the long journey back home, I realized that for the first time EVER, we were somewhere where children were having meltdowns and it wasn't our kid!  It may sound silly, but it rather exhausting to always be "those parents".  You know, the ones you glare at in the grocery store or at restaurants because their kids aren't behaving.  And not only was Olivia behaving, she was thriving!  Autism is a real pain in the neck most of the time, but this experience was a great reminder of the pros of autism.  Because of her autism, Olivia can only feel one emotion at a time.  When she is sad, she is VERY sad.  But, when she is happy, she is VERY happy.  What an amazing gift that is when you are facing a new unknown situation.  Watching her bounce down the pathway to dinner feeling only happiness was incredible.  How many parents get to have that experience?  

So now I am missing my darling daughter and spending every free moment praying desperately for her.  I am praying for her safety and that she will have a great time but, mostly, I am praying that the one feeling she has is joy.  I don't want her to spend a moment missing us.  I want every moment focused on having fun and being happy.  I'm doing enough of the "missing" for both of us.

Back to Africa

I've been asked several times in the last few months if I was planning another trip to Africa.  "No" I would answer, "Maybe next year."  Well, here it is July and I am headed again to Africa.  Our church was in desperate need of a team leader and asked if I would take the challenge on.  With a very nervous heart, I said yes.  So now my weeks are filled with making guest house, car, and boat reservations.  Every week, our team meets to go over Bible stories and work on methods of introducing the Gospel.  I have piles forming of wicking t shirts and ankle length skirts not to mention flashlights, bug spray, and everything you need when staying a week on an island with no electricity or running water.  

I look at the piles and I marvel how God continues to make straight paths for our family.  We have learned to be VERY flexible and draped in prayer.  While we dream and discuss about our future, we have landed in this wonderful place where we are always waiting to see what God has for us.  Nothing is set in stone until He sets it.  For a planner like me, this is not an easy thing.  I had a great plan for our family.  We would have three children, Dan would be a journalist and I would stay at home.  We would live in our starter home for a few years then by a more "comfortable" home.  And on and on it goes.  My plan was not to be.  God began to teach me to stop and listen for His calling instead of my own planning.  I stopped being distracted by the activities of life (most of the time).  I remembered the story of Elijah in the cave (1 Kings 19).  There he stood on a mountain, waiting to hear God's voice.  He was not distracted by wind, earthquake or fire.  If he had been distracted; if he had reacted in his humanity to the terrifying situation around him, he would have missed out on the huge blessing God had for him.  He would have thought he was still alone and would have died in his grief.  But, even in what seemed the worst of circumstances, God was making his path straight.

At one time, I didn't want a daughter that was autistic.  When my son was born, I didn't want him be so smart that I would struggle to keep his ego in check.   When I married my husband, I didn't want him to work a job that pays miserably.  I didn't want to go back to work.  I didn't want to ask people to help us adopt two African children. I didn't want to live in an old house in a "poor" neighborhood. The lists of  "I didn't want" went on and on.  Praise God that he didn't give me what I wanted!!!!  Olivia and her autism have changed me from top to bottom, and all for the good.  Eli's intelligence has challenged me to be thoughtful and search out God's answers to every question.   I get to see my husband fulfilled and joyful while he ministers to special needs children everyday.  At work, I am stretched and pushed to be more loving than I am naturally and to seek God's wisdom in each decision.  Our adoption process has taught me that I have amazing people in my life who trust and support us and who will fight with us to unite our family.  And that old house in the poor neighborhood has become a sanctuary for countless neighborhood children who need a safe place to play and a loving adult to listen to them, often for the first time.

My prayer today and everyday is that God will constantly remind me not to be distracted by all of the "stuff" in this short life but to keep listening to His voice as we prepare for the afterlife.  When I am tempted to have a pity party, may He remind me that each and every circumstance is His to deal with and His to transform into something beautiful. When I die, I long to hear my Father say "Well done, Kristie.  You have been a good and faithful servant."  

resting in a selah







In the books of Psalms and Habakkuk, the writers uses the word "selah".  There have been many disagreements on the meaning of the word but I lean towards a traditional definition; pause.  I've always been very taken with this word.  Was King David telling his musicians to pause, or was he pausing to meditate on his last words?  Maybe he just needed a moment to sit in his feelings before moving on to the next feeling or thought. 

A couple of weeks ago, I was feeling like a hamster on a wheel, running, running, running.  I was trying to take on everything thrown my way and keep juggling all of my normal stuff and I was tired.  Then I remembered that wonderful, often skipped over word; selah.  I needed to pause.  There are some things in life that you can't put on hold so those things had to stay but the extras were put aside.  I took this time to sit in silence and pray.  I thought about life and what I wanted out of life.  I thought and prayed about what was good in my life and what was weighing me down.  I took time to whisper all of my thoughts and concerns in those moments of silence to my God, my Father.  And in those moments I found that I am ...enough.  What a simple little word.  Enough. When my house is a mess because I choose to go for a long walk with my family, in God's eyes I'm enough.  When I am at work and feeling like I'm not really making a difference, God tells me I'm enough.  When my pile of laundry is towering over my head or my car is littered with empty water bottles and gum wrappers that didn't quite make it in the trash bag, God's Word says I'm enough.

 So, if God says I'm enough why have I spent countless years feeling worthless? 

Just when I was starting to feel peaceful, I get hit with this.  Now that I know I am enough, how do I start living it out  as truth?  What I would do for the ability to erase all of those consuming thoughts that race through my mind day after day. 

I look at the clutter on the coffee table and I hear "You should be better than this."  I see dishes in the sink and I hear "Why can't you be like them?   The ones who have their act together?"  My kids misbehave in public and I hear "You're a terrible mother. You should do better".   I see other's success and I hear "Give up. You're nothing but a failure".

It seems as if every criticism I've ever received has multiplied and burrowed deep into my soul and only God can dig out this wicked weed.  This pruning is painful and hard.  I find that I cling to things that hurt simply because I don't like the unknown.  I'd rather wrap my arms around this thorny mess than cut away that which feeds the lies that distract me from the truth that I am truly enough.

I must make a decision.  I cannot avoid the truth, both that I am all I need to be to be loved, valued, used, and cherished by my Father God and that I need to remove the weeds of doubt and criticism.  I truly don't know what I will do.  I can't honestly say that I've got the pruning shears in hand and I'm ready to take action.  So, again I say selah.  Friends, please pray for me as I pause to hear my Lord's voice.  Join me as we learn the truth that we are enough.

Selah