Followers

Wednesday, January 19, 2022

I Just Don’t Know.

 






Friends: this comes from a loving place in my heart- it truly does but I don’t know what I need. I just don’t know. I’m sorry if I’m not responding to you. I just don’t know how right now. 
I’m trying to survive at this point. I’m in physical and spiritual pain. Deep. Inescapable. Something I’ve never experienced before. I just don’t know. 
Our friends Roger and Stephanie Lesinko showed up this weekend and brought a huge amount of Papa Vinos and Bone Broth. I did not know I needed it. They just came with it. It has fed my family every night since. My friend Kristi Cysewski took me on a short outing trying for fresh air and a bit of “normal” (well, she tried it was not easy) and brought a meal neither of which I knew we needed. She just came. My friend Beth Hardy showed up with soup I needed at that exact moment I didn’t know I needed it. My friend Amy Anderson sends me Bible verses. No questions just verses. They always help. My friend Brenda Swank sent a specific prayer that when reading brought comfort. My friend Dora Madsen dropped off detox tea and celery which she lovingly de-strung, knowing as a nurse, these are natural ways to ease medicine induced bowel issues, my friend Angie took 2 hours of her day to walk me through part of my traumatic experience on Ketamine, but friends I lovingly and I hope without sounding ungrateful simply do not know what I actually need until they are before me. I am sorry I’m not responding to you. I don’t know how right now. I love you all for checking in. For asking. I love every prayer. I just don’t know how to respond right now. 
I’m sick. It’s not letting up. I’m sick physically. I’m sick emotionally and I’m sick spiritually. It’s awful. 
The last intervention was yesterday when Dr. Das moved heaven and earth to add me to the schedule at Elkhart General ( one shining light in my otherwise dark world right now - what an amazing hospital and doctor.) He did an outpatient epidural steroid injection. I don’t know if it’s working yet. I’m in bed. Praying for a positive outcome. He tried. 
I’m sorry if I sound I sound ungrateful but friends I just do not know what I need beyond fervent prayer. I can’t think past just trying to staying out of pain and keeping myself emotionally stable. The tears are many and frequent. I just don’t know what’s happening with my body but it’s not good. 
I’m sorry I’m not responding. Music is my love language it has been a great source of encouragement for me. It’s helped me through the dark, helpless nights.  There has been a lot of dark. Sometimes the only thing I can do is put on earphones to try to drown out the pain. Whether with music or books. I don’t know what to do beyond that. 
I love you all 
Keep praying for me please.
Mary 




Saturday, January 15, 2022

Prayer Request

 Friends: 

I humbly am asking for prayer. It’s the only thing that I have not done since last week. I am desperate. I need to rally my troops. I feel like I am being targeted by the enemy who wants me sad and defeated and he is good at what he does. Will you please pray for us?  I know for sure until I see Him face-to-face, God works through his people. Prayer is powerful and I could use it’s strength. 
Last week began with lower back pain just a dull constant ache but because of some digestive challenges in the past it was enough to send me to the doctor. He recommended a simple cleanse which I did but did not result in relief. Early Wednesday morning I got out of bed and my body locked up. I have no way to explain this but my entire left side was like a solid rod and I collapsed. It was excruciating pain and I started screaming. There was no whimpering -it was horror film level screaming. After Kevin and Ben realized they could not move me Kevin called 911. 
I only remember bits and pieces after this and Kevin has filled in some blanks but the parts I do remember are what I need prayer for. They have deeply effected me. I can’t seem to process or get past them. 

Because I was on the second floor of our home the EMT’s had to try and get me downstairs with my body locked up tight, the decision was made to give me Ketamine which is “conscious sedation” through an IV. 
My experience with Ketamine was the scariest event I have had in my life so far. Not only did I feel like I was dying and that i was out of my own body, I kept telling Kevin that I was seeing Jesus, Bruiser, his mom, dad and I repeatedly told  him I was dying and going to be with Jesus. As you can imagine this was not just distressing to me but also to Kevin. In addition to that, the Ketamine triggered a memory I had long suppressed, but had to relive it while in route to the hospital.( I hope to meet with the EMT’s one day so I can get more information on what they witnessed but needless to say it was terrifying to me.)
Please pray that as I continue to process this experience, I will gain clarity in both the effects of this drug as well as working through the memory it has now brought to my every thought throughout my day. It’s inescapable. 
Please pray that as I seek God’s help as well as talking with a licensed therapist, that I will find healing. 

Please also pray for all of our local EMT’s. They are amazing and they go through so much. I have been thinking a lot about them. I was one call that morning. I just can’t imagine responding to similar calls all day. They need all of our prayers as well as our respect. What they do is amazing. They are heroes. I know that their lives and the health care industry in general went from pandemic heroes to villains due to staffing shortages and long waits in the blink of an eye to many but I hope by reading my experience you will understand not only what they are up against but their commitment to the people in our community. They will always be, pandemic or not, heroes in my eyes. 

As I arrived at Beacon Granger Hospital I was a complete mess. Loud. Scared. Confused. Still feeling the effects of the drug and very loudly sharing it with anyone nearby. I was in pain and completely disconnected from my body. Upon arrival Kevin was still getting approval to come back so I was alone except for the poor EMT who I was begging not to leave me. 
From here things were just chaotic. It’s the only word I have to describe it. 
They first tried to ease my pain by giving me morphine. Apparently I am allergic. I started to react with muscle spasms. It appeared I was having a seizure but it was determined to be just a bad reaction. This was followed by Benedryl which made me feel like I was choking on a gallon of salt ( no explanation for that) 
It was scary to me to experience but it was also nearly the end of Kevin’s ability to cope with what was happening. I can only imagine what he was feeling at this point. It has been the only time in our nearly 25 years of marriage I saw fear in his eyes. I was repeatedly telling him I was going to die, that I see Jesus and now I’m flailing about uncontrollably. It was a lot even for someone as calm as Kevin. 
The decision was then made to transport me to memorial for additional scans while also trying to secure a bed in what were nearly full hospitals. I remember very little of this time. The only thing I do remember is the cold air hitting my face while being loaded into the ambulance for transport to the other hospital. 
The doctors told Kevin I could possibly be waiting up to 7 hours but miraculously I was back to Beacon Granger in 2 hours with a room waiting. I assume I was heavily sedated as I have no memory of any of this time. 
The next thing I remember was waking up in a hospital room where I stayed for the next two days as they tried to figure out what was wrong and reduce my pain. 
During this time I had so many drugs pumping into my body. I was unable to walk or take care of a single basic need and I was afraid. Kevin was there but in my mind he was far away. 

Fear is paralyzing. Initially fear makes you forget your faith and who is really in control. 

After some time of wishing for my own death, a place I never hope to be in again, I stopped trying to control the outcome in my head and question the reasons why this was happening and started to trust God to protect me. He placed his hand over me and allowed me to pass through a very painful experience I definitely did not want but one where He was always nearby. 
Those nights in the hospital I was so overwhelmed my prayers were short, direct and desperate. Both nights I had two songs playing in a constant loop in my head They reminded who was in control, who I place my trust in and they brought me comfort when I couldn’t find the words. 
If you would like to listen I have included them here:



Since that time in the hospital they have ruled out spinal cord injury and disc issues. They have landed on a nerve related issue and are treating it as such. Regardless, they are trying to find the “sweet spot” of relief with medication. Unfortunately the medicine makes me unable to drive or even function properly in my role of domestic engineer and motherhood until my body adjusts to the medicine. Right now I feel overwhelmed. For a time, I did not feel like I was going to make it out of this mess. There have been nights this week that my only prayer was for the night to end. However, right in the middle of doubt, fear, questioning and worry there has also been Jesus. 
How easily I seem to forget his presence in the everyday yet how truly amazing that I feel Him so deeply in the midst of deep pain. It reminded me how easy it is to shift your attention away from Jesus in your life when you are not suffering. The fact that I can see and feel God working even in the midst of my current mess and in the pain I’m experiencing is a incredible testimony to how God works through pain. 
The Bible is filled with stories of men and women who experienced incredible difficulties while at the same time speaking of God’s presence in their lives. Pray that we can all be reminded of his presence not just in suffering but in our daily lives. 

Most of all friends pray for Kevin. It’s been A LOT-Starting after thanksgiving with his dental emergency, then Bruiser’s sudden death, Gabe’s sickness and his hospitalization and now mine. 
He has never complained . Not once. He picked up every household task with a smile. Ran to multiple pharmacies, documented medical care, set up charts for medicine dosing, kept me hydrated, has had very little sleep all while continuing to do his job. ( The one that pays the bills) Pray for his continued strength and for his ability to rest peacefully. 

I am reminded how my life has been filled with trials both big and small but it has also been filled with major comebacks, the strengthening of my faith and the knowledge that every trial will somehow be used for His glory. I am certain if this. 
Pray that I am continually reminded that something good is up ahead. 

Thank you for being friends I can trust to get me through times like these by covering my family in prayer. 

XOXO
Mary 

Sunday, January 2, 2022

 


I started this blog in April of 2009 as a way to document the everyday life of my family. 

I have shared everything from pictures, stories, milestones and vacations to home projects and thrift finds.  This blog has been through every sport including tennis, golf, wrestling, swimming, basketball, baseball and even scuba lessons. It has also documented what my boys loved at every stage of their young lives including phases of Pokemon, Bakugan, Lazy Town, Nerf, Legos and more. 

I wrote when I was happy and when I was devastated. I wrote short captions, heartfelt tributes and lengthy calls to action. Through this blog I shared my family, my faith and my heart.  This is the space I first shared Ben's diagnosis of autism and my diagnosis of Cushings Disease.
It did not matter to me who read it.  I wrote as a way to preserve memories for the boys. Memories I hope they will someday be able to look back on fondly. I also wrote to process difficult seasons and to heal and move on with hope. 
This blog was not a place I shared news reels, world opinions, political statements or sold unused items. It was personal. I can look back now and read what I wrote and see how I have changed directions, opinions,  and handled adversity (even the times I did not handle it well were documented) I can see how much my children have grown and how things have changed as well as remained the same. 
That my friends, is the gift of documenting personal memories.

It was only when the very life I was trying to document became increasingly busy that I sought out a more streamlined way to share our lives and eventually migrated full time to Facebook. I was originally a Facebook holdout and came  to the social media game late.  Although I occasionally found my way back to this space that felt safe to me over those years, for many years Facebook and then Instagram were my main outlets to connect with others and share our everyday lives.  It was an easy way to stay connected with all of you.

The biggest gift of social media was that it not only helped me to stay connected to my friends locally but helped to re-connect me with the people I walked with at every stage of life. Some of those reconnections I hold extremely dear today -one in particular was with a high school friend who is now such a great source of encouragement and support in my life. I could never view joining Facebook as a mistake based solely on having her friendship in my life again.

I’ve always had a love/ hate relationship with social media but it wasn’t until the time of covid and pre-election when I started to realized  the very things that had made Facebook appealing to me years ago no longer felt good. Facebook no longer fostered feelings of connection and community and with each passing day it no longer felt authentic or real. It felt ugly. Divisive. Accusing. Controlling.  When I finally left I deleted instead of deactivating because I wanted to lock the gate instead of merely erecting a fence.
It hasn’t been easy to disconnect. The loss has been felt deep in my bones. This disconnection has been felt the most in the many life events that I have missed in my friend's lives that deserved acknowledgement-missing  death announcements , birthdays, and major milestones are what bothered me the most. Gone are the days of writing those dates down. Facebook was the gatekeeper of those important events. When deleted you feel the loss. This I know. 

Last month it was with this in mind that I was contemplating a return. However, It was also the time that Facebook rebranded itself to Meta.
Facebook  transitioning to "Meta" helped me understand very clearly that their plan all along has always been the illusion of connection without actual connection. It solidified my original decision that Facebook (now Meta) would never again be a place for me. That space continues to move further away from the authentic connection I crave and into virtual connections. The virtual “realities” they promote and the science they manipulate are things that will only take me further from my values and beliefs. Facebook, now as Meta, is transitioning into something that resembles and promotes transhumanism. The name change is central to Facebook CEO Mark Zuckerburg’s plans to push an agenda that entices Facebook’s users into a new transhumanist reality. I won’t go into detail about the dangers of this path. You can look them up for yourself but I will say that’s this path is a scary one and not worth being a part of simply to help me remember important dates. Instead of placing God at the center of your life, the “Metaverse” seeks to achieve heaven on earth and remove God from your life completely. Having a bad day? Go there and pretend you are not. Feeling lonely? How about a virtual relationship. 
We as a society have be lulled into such a deep sleep by the devices in our hands, it’s hard to see the true intent in what may seem like simple rebranding.  This should be the wake up call we all need. Please research for yourself. There is nothing good that will come from this path.

It’s why I find myself back here within the safety of my blog. In a space I can speak freely ( at least for now). A place that documents my family’s life without inadvertently supporting an agenda I don’t want to be a part of. A place where I can speak of my faith without fear of someone who views life differently removing my thoughts simply because they are not the same as theirs.

This does not mean that I will stay off all social media forever but just until I can find an option that supports more authentic sharing, less censorship and more community and one that doesn’t raised red flags along the way.  There are other options already out there to explore and others that are being built out but until I make a decision I will settle in here again.

I have always believed in sharing authentically and not leaving out the struggles that are sometimes uncomfortable to read. I also believe we should be able to share and listen to all sides of an argument and still remain firm in what we believe while not sacrificing personal values. The key in this is being able to do so without harsh judgement. I don’t believe in the term “my truth”. I believe only in THE truth and the one place I can find THE truth is in my Bible. The truth of the Bible doesn’t change due to world events or the difficulties of life or because independent fact checkers say so.  I found myself not wanting to share the truth on social media for fear of attack. I also did not like who I had become on social media. It was not authentic but fearful. I was focusing too much on what other people thought and I myself was ugly and opinionated at times.
There is a saying  “it’s much easier to act like a Christian than to react like one.” My reactions to other’s opinions did not represent my faith well.

Sharing life experiences, whether others agree, understand or even sympathize should never be a reason for others to attack, unfollow, ghost or unfriend but that is what I found on Facebook- a place that encouraged dissension, division, one-sided opinions where one view is allowed while others are censored. It is not real life. It had become a place where people were no longer seeking connection but seeking validation of their own view.  A place of proving points. For me, It was no longer a place to learn, grow and connect. Now, not only that, but it’s very belief at its core as it transitions to Meta and transhumanism does not line up with my values and my faith and places further emphasis on imagined connection. Virtual reality. It might make people feel good but it’s not real life.

Nothing on this blog has been written with hopes I could convince you to agree with me only with the hope I could help others see how it felt for me and/or my family to experience an event or an emotion. I hoped that even if we did view life differently we could still learn from each other.  Let’s face it, In our greatest times of need we don't always need others to give us their opinions or advice as much as we need to hear through other's stories from those who are walking similar roads we find ourselves trudging down if only to tell us that it will be ok. Those who are a little further along and willing to help us. Those people don’t necessarily come from our same circles or believe everything we do but we meet through common goals and even common pain, without judgement or censorship. It’s why we need to hear how everyone views life not just a set of pre- approved opinions.
So, here I am over a year after leaving social media-back in the space I abandoned because it required a bit more effort to maintain. It’s not lost on me that I moved to Facebook from this blog to experience a easier, faster connection and that is  exactly what I got but once I had that I realized how much I missed true connection and deep two-sided conversations. Full circle learning at its finest.

The real life feelings that come with memories and lessons I still feel years later when I read again.  A place to document the silly trivial moments as well as the deep feelings, not doing so for engagement, likes and comments but for me as an outlet to process.  A place I can remember not only events but the feelings and emotions that are attached to them. A place where hopefully someday my children can appreciate that their memories were documented and be reminded of them long after I enter heaven.

It is in this is the space that you are less likely to miss my heart.

I think this is why I have landed back here. A place where you can visit and connect with me. I have missed you all. I love to share. I love to write. I love to hear about your own lives. You can choose to follow this blog, check in when you feel like it. You can comment (or not) but I will be here from now on and until I feel comfortable with the new and emerging ways to share that don’t include moving further away from reality into an imagined one.
Life is real. Pain happens. Heartache occurs. Manipulating these emotions temporarily will only make the reality worse.

**I am sharing this post on Kevin’s Facebook page but won’t link it again through Facebook so check back if you want to. I will warn you, I am going to have a time of "catch up" so there might be a lot to start:)

If you do continue into the new year in your Meta spaces I leave you with some excellent advice I recently heard on a podcast when the guest was discussing social media. He said, In part:

“Be intentional with who you follow. When you choose who to follow on social media you are choosing your future thoughts. You are choosing the flow of information you are going to put yourself in front of and pretty much every thought that you have is downstream from what you consume.
If you want to have better thoughts  make sure you are consuming better pieces of information.”

I hope we can continue to connect real life and now in this space.

Happy New Year.
XOXO
Mary 

Friday, December 29, 2017

God Meant It For Good

Friends: You have once again amazed me with the amount of support you have shown me and my family in the past few weeks. In a moment of complete desperation, I asked for blind prayers and you responded with not only prayers but phone calls, gifts of encouragement, thoughtful notes and support.  I have been humbled by your swift and thoughtful responses. 
It is so easy to see God’s goodness when our lives are smooth and uneventful but it’s hard to see His goodness in the midst of a trial. You were able to help me see the goodness and focus on that. What an incredible gift God has given to us in our relationships with others.  Life is difficult and bad things do happen, things that happen without explanation. It always amazes me how God can send warriors in the form of friends and in unexpected ways. The last two weeks have shown me that even through a trial, God is still good. His timing is perfect. His purpose is perfect. Even when I don't see his hand, I believe it’s there because I can see yours. Again, I thank you.

I wasn't sure if I would ever be able to see the past two weeks in any other way except horrible. I’ve thought a lot about why I should or shouldn’t share our story. I want you to know this is not a “in the moment” post but one I have thought a great deal about and one I have tried to approach with care. It scares me to think that anyone would have to endure what our family has  - It shouldn’t have happened to us and it should never happen again to anyone else.  In order for that change to happen, I need to speak candidly and honestly about our experience so that you can learn from it. 

As parents it is our job, among other things, to teach our children character. We  know that integrity, honesty and accountability are all important traits we want to see in our children but teaching these traits is sometimes difficult. 
Being raised in a godly home no way insures that our children will always make good decisions or that they will be perfect but we pray for that outcome and guide them towards that goal. We try, to the best of our abilities, to raise kids who treat others with respect and dignity while simultaneously trying to prepare them for a world that is harsh and cruel. 
Today’s world is not the same as the world of our teenage years. Our kids are bombarded with images of who the world thinks they should be. They live in a digital society where destructive words and actions are reinforced and sometimes even liked and applauded.  The hurt and destruction this digital age has brought is darker and more evil than anything we had to endure. It only adds to the difficulty it takes to help our children grow their character. 
We teach our children to endure suffering and to hold their anger while at the same time telling them they should defend themselves and others in situations that they know are wrong.  This is especially difficult to do with the onset of social media.

We are confusing them.
“Stand tall…but hide behind a screen”
“Don’t let anyone mistreat you…unless they are behind a screen
“Report…when its easy”
“React…only when it suits you”
“Speak out…when you feel someone is worthy”
“Stand up…if you have back up”
“See something-say something…unless you feel like recording it”
“Defend your body…or abuse it”
“Defend your honor…when it makes you look good”
These are the kinds of messages we are sending to our own children.

We encourage them to look for the good in every situation but also to guard their hearts and still, somehow mixed in all of these already conflicting messages, is the message that being brave means facing adverse situations with a positive outlook, a smile and with your head held high. Quietly and without reacting.

BUT then we find ourselves face down in our own trial and we learn being brave is not always easy and pleasant. Being brave sometimes involves taking a risk.
Acting. 
Talking. 
Admitting faults. 
Sticking up for someone.
Starting a difficult conversation.  

Above everything else, we learn that being brave means doing SOMETHING. 
Our kids need to know this AND see this from us.
How many times have our children suffered at the hands of another child or adult and we chose not to “rock the boat” only to find out that same bully moved on to someone else because he knew he could get away with it?
How many times have we looked the other way when our own children misbehave?
How many times have we let our kid’s friendships continue that we know are toxic because we do not want conflict?
We refuse to act. We refuse to report. We avoid being “that parent” at all costs even when the cost is the safety of other children.
We don't react and because of this others suffer.
Parents:  we cannot continue to fail our children this way.

Being brave is choosing to speak out even when its difficult or you are scared and yes, even if you are standing alone. 
Our kids need to see that we will react when their lives and integrity are in jeopardy. We must react even if its hard. 
We must make the phone call. We must fill out the form and we must report not to other parents but to the school administration and even the police. 
Being brave involves risk but it is a risk that we must teach our children to take. Risk is something our kids need to see us take to show our bravery. 
I’m choosing to be brave right now not because I want to but because I need to.
I know people will judge me and my family but I feel  it is more important to speak than it is to remain comfortable.  I wish I could sit with you all and look at you so you could see my hurt and pain and see how we have been broken and brought to our knees because of hate, ignorance, lack of action or reaction. No family should ever find themselves in our situation. We all need to face this head on. 

Ben is a wonderful and brilliant teenager who has a diagnoses of Aspergers. We know this. The school knows this. Most of our friends know this. I wrote about his diagnoses in this post if you need further explanation. 
Ben has an IEP which is a legal and binding document that protects him by law.  Certain safeguards are in place to protect his safety and insure he is educated in the least restrictive environment.  Those that care for Ben should know his diagnoses including his challenges and work to make the school environment safe for him. They should be doing this for all kids, regardless of whether or not they have an IEP. I have spent many nights praying for not only his inclusion but for his safety. It has not been easy. Every time I stepped into a new battle for his rights or his safety, I became more and more numb, bitter and resentful. 
My heart turned colder which is why, when two weeks ago, our family was in the midst of  battle once again, I shut down. I lost all hope. Losing all hope is not a place where you want to stay very long. It was a dark place.

Two weeks ago Ben was involved in an altercation on the bus which the school said was unprovoked. It is an altercation we have seen coming for 3 full years and one, if PHM would have responded to in our prior reports, would have never happened. 
Starting the summer of seventh grade, Ben has been ruthlessly and relentlessly targeted by a bully. We have filed report after report to not only the school but to our local cybercrime division of the police. We did everything we were supposed to do as parents. We followed the rules. We documented. We reported. We surrounded Ben with adults who tried to walk him through this. It still continues. We watched helplessly as this child slowly stripped away our child’s self worth and confidence. It has been sneaky, planned and heartbreaking. We watched and reported. We have documented all of this. 
This  all started the summer of seventh grade when this child came into our home with the sole purpose of taking pictures of our child and posting them to social media sites with disparaging remarks. We watched on social media his continued disparaging of others.We watched this all with no reaction from administration at all levels in the PHM district. For three full years,  Ben watched as the very adults who were supposed to protect him ignored it, contributed to it, and excused it. This child is the reason we had to remove our child from Discovery Middle School before the end of eighth grade. We were unaware of it  until two weeks ago, but have learned since that it continued at PENN.
PHM has done nothing. Kevin and I both knew there would come a time that Ben would have to step in and defend himself and that is exactly what happened two weeks ago. Two weeks ago we lost all faith that the school would ever protect our child and that the bully will always win. Always.  This was only magnified as I received email after email of other bullying experiences that have been met with no response. We learned that speaking up means nothing at all when met with downplaying and denial both by the school and even other parents.
We knew that this “altercation” was not “unprovoked” and we were furious. The school suspended Ben for two days and handed Ben to this child on a silver platter with a side of bragging rights. In their minds- case closed. 

If all of this was not enough to make us furious, this event has sparked an influx of information to us and we found out that this bully had written a rap song, which was downloaded to Sound Cloud, calling Ben a retard and naming five other PENN students in both disparaging and frightening ways. Specific threats. Named children. The school has had this in its possession since June. We did not know our child was specifically named until after Ben’s suspension. We did not learn this from the school. We learned this from a parent. A parent who BRAVELY contacted us. A parent we could all learn from. We were horrified. Scared and MAD. 
I cant speak for the school as to the reasons the school chose not to respond to these direct threats against their students but one excuse we heard was that they “talked to the parents” about it. When I asked why we were not afforded the same opportunity to “take care of it”  with our own son we were met with vague excuses. 
I’m telling you this because as parents we should be outraged. 

The very school which is tasked with keeping our children safe was in possession of lyrics and songs of pure hate and evil intent, naming specific students and it appears they did nothing. I know we were never notified. I’ve given the district every chance to make this right, to assure me my child is safe. We  have been afforded nothing and friends, let me tell you, I am having a hard time moving forward. I was trying. I was seeking advice, praying, researching, sorting through, and questioning.
the day after Christmas I stopped when I realized the only thing that was left to do was to share our experience in hope of preventing it from happening again. I have done every thing that I can. I have contacted those who need to be contacted. I have had the appropriate conversations. I have shed rivers of tears and I can cry no more. 

I know life is hard. I know evil exists but I also know God is good. He never changes. Things are not always going to go the way I imagine them going but I have to trust that even if the school continues to be unresponsive, God isn’t unresponsive.

The day Ben was suspended people showed up for us in unimaginable ways. Texts, calls, visits, encouraging words. They encouraged us to endure and they supported Ben, knowing he would never react without provocation both immediate and over the years and that my friends, is what sustained our family and grew us. It is why after I post this I will continue to push for change and share our story. 
God speaks to us in the most unimaginable ways and sometimes in our deepest heartache are our greatest lessons. This lesson has brought such deep pain that I must somehow find good in. 

Genesis 50:20 says, “But as for you, you meant evil against me; but God meant it for good, in order to bring it about as it is this day, to save many people alive.”

Behind this heartache of ours is a God who is at work. A God whom I know to be faithful. 
When trials and heartache come about, especially when they involve our children, we always want a quick deliverance from a God whom we know is able. When our kids suffer, our suffering is even greater because we cant see how the trial will turn out so even though I know I must keep believing God is a sovereign God. This does not mean I can just passively endure this trial, especially when others safety is involved. This is why Im speaking. How you react is your choice. I hope you choose to search for answers and encourage change.

There is evil in this world. Whether of not it comes knocking on your door, you shouldn't become immune or hardened towards it  but we should seek to dispel it by bringing more light to drown out the darkness. Today’s bullies are not those of our childhood. These bullies know how to effectively and secretly hurt and humiliate our children. They are both blatant in their attempts while also flying under the radar. They  hide. They cover. They persist. When one account is deleted another one emerges.  They move from child to child. Do not think yours will not be next. 
Do not become immune to evil. Overcome it with good.

Parents: We must start reacting. 
If our schools were actively seeking ways to bring this problem to the light, it would not exist at the level it does today. If parents we were all willing to discipline our children even in the difficult moments, especially in the difficult moments, we could start moving forward with confidence that change will happen.  
Today I do not have that confidence.
I pray this changes.
We all need to show our community that we won’t stand by and pretend this is not a problem. We have to show them that the light always overcomes the darkness. 

It can only happen when we  choose to step in and be brave. 
 Please be brave and use our story for good 









Wednesday, November 15, 2017

I am the Storm

I  have always said that Cushings Disease has been the single greatest tool to show me the grace of Jesus. God never wastes my struggles. The miracle is being able to still praise Him in the midst of them. 
Unfortunately, this weekend I forgot what I KNOW and have LIVED so many times - God is always faithful. He has a perfect record. Perfect timing and a perfect plan. 
This weekend I took a temporary ride on Mary’s hot mess express. It cruised along all weekend long...

But after a weekend of being on board a pity train to depressedville,  I’m trying to start fresh today but friends I do need some extra prayer.  

Today, even though I am once again reminded that I live with a relentless disease, I need to be reminded  that I have a God who is also relentless in His pursuit of me.
 In remission or out, the effects of this disease still linger years after surgical and chemical interventions and it sometimes causes anger and bitterness to creep in my heart.  I forget all of the blessings that have happened as a result of it. I look only at the pain. 
Satan loves to see those chinks in my armour. He uses them to get in and attack. He knows exactly what my struggles are. He’s the engineer of the pity train that I chose to board. He encourages me to climb aboard. He is the one that reminds me I will always have this disease. The one that makes me think that as soon as one victory is claimed another challenge will be presented. He makes me see and feel the pain. This time he hit me where he knew it would hurt the worst. 
My mouth. 
A direct shot. 
For those of you who think Satan is a cartoon character with a cute pitchfork you are wrong. He’s crafty, deceitful and he knows your weaknesses. He’s no joke. 
But God is bigger, stronger and more powerful. Always. He’s already won but that will never stop Satan from trying. 

This disease, manifesting in my mouth, is the worst case scenario for me because I am a walking billboard for dental anxiety. I wear the crown. I am the face of childhood dental trauma.  
Medically speaking, because of prolonged cortisol exposure, my white blood cell count stopped fighting against the local bacteria between my gums and teeth. They just stopped going there- jerks! Cortisol also inhibits new bone growth which contributes to osteoporosis of my jaw bone causing the already bad teeth to have no support. Therfore teeth are breaking, cracking, and causing all kinds of issues. 
The last two Fridays I have had to have 2 teeth removed. The healing, also has been slow and painful. Hence, the pity train full steam ahead. 
Today I jumped off. I have a renewed spirit.  I have the support of a wonderful husband. I am under the great care of a oral surgeon and dentist who are direct answers to my prayers. 
Please pray that my mouth will heal as well as my defeated heart. My struggles are usually the places where I’m still enough to hear God’s voice so I ask for prayer to not only hear His voice but to listen and respond. 
I know there are those of you who are facing far greater struggles today and others whose daily lives are a struggle. Please let me know how I can pray for you too! 









Tuesday, August 22, 2017

Parents: We Are The Problem

The world is filled with hate.
We see it on the news and social media. We see hate in the schools, on sports fields and even in line at the grocery store. 
Our family has been a victim of hate and of  targeting and it didn't happen because of our skin color or our socioeconomic status. It happened because the parents let it. As parents we are the ones letting hate thrive in our culture.  This problem is ours. 
For our family it happened as what a lot of people see as "innocent hate" - schoolyard taunts, exclusions and social media shaming. Sometimes this innocent hate stops after the school yard or when high school is over but other times is goes unchecked- growing and festering until we see these schoolyard bullies on the local news. 
Think about it this way. 
Every protester we see, Every single person holding a sign while not holding a job- they are someone's child. They had the influence of parents and other adults for years leading to the very moment we see them on the news. The hate in their hearts has been ignored and cultivated long before the moment we see them on the local news. It passed through many adults before it showed its ugly face on the news. 
Yet, nothing changes. It not only doesn't change but It has progressively gotten worse. We know these seemingly little moments of hate will sooner or later turn into full blown  I don't care who sees me hate and we do nothing.

For the last two years I have been writing a book about bullying which I feel has somehow become a form of hate that we excuse or don't seem to mind.  I've poured into it for two full years and recently in a complete moment of clarity, I shredded it. It was liberating (and maybe a little crazy). I did not do this out of anger or frustration but because I knew it was time. Our focus needs to shift. I was trying to be a voice for those that don't have one when I finally realized that they dont need my single voice they need a collective battle cry from every single parent. 
This world is a hate- filled mess. It is right  now and it was two years ago when my family was seeing it up close and personal. It's not a political problem. It's not a school problem or a government problem. 
It's a parenting problem. 
It's time that we all stop playing the victim role so well and start seeing our world, including bullying for what they really are. 
A full blown parenting crises. 
The turning away from family time in favor of other activities.  The slow decline of a parent's influence and voice with regards to raising our own children. 

No amount of research data or public service announcements will actually prepare you for when your family is in the midst of a crises -bullying, hate-filled or otherwise.  I am proof.  
I was in the midst of writing, researching and collecting data for which would have become a book about modern day bullying and I missed EVERY. SINGLE. SIGN even when hate walked through my own front door. 

Parents- We are allowing this hate to not only thrive but we are opening our own front doors and letting it walk right in. 
Believe me- we literally let hate walk right through our own front door when we allowed a child, who we thought we could trust enter our home. We opened the door to him ( and his phone) and  let him walk right in.  Our whole ugly, heart wrenching six months of experiencing hate first hand started when we opened the door to it. 
Parents we do this every day in so many ways. We excuse it, ignore it and justify it. It might not always come knocking on your front door, it could happen scrolling through social media, in overheard adult conversations or by simply turning on the television. We give hate a personal invitation into our families lives and sometimes we don't even realize it until the damage is already done. 

Bullying and hate will only stop when parents stop allowing it in. When we show them we won't allow hate to enter. 
When we were facing the enormity of our own situation I didn't want to read a book about it. I wanted explanations. I didn't want statistics I wanted answers. I certainly did not want to open up Facebook and see people sharing sad videos of traumatized children who had been bullied while at the same time doing nothing. I wanted someone to do something.

Parents: if you think hate only exists in the national spotlight you are naive. To see hate you need to look no further than your own seemingly safe community- the sidelines of a sporting event or in the hallways of your child's school. You don't need to read the newspaper or see it on social media it's in our own backyards.  It's in these every day places that the seeds of hate, privilege and exclusion are planted and cultivated by our own lack of attention to them.  Our kids don't know the difference between right and wrong until we tell them and show them in our everyday interactions.
Hate exits when we allow it to. 
Hate happens in the abscence of love and direction.

What did I need when I witnessed hate on a personal level? 
I needed someone to take ownership for it. 
I needed parents who actually took responsibility. 
I needed SOMEONE to respond. 
I got nothing. 

Now that I am on the other side of this experience and as I watch the daily news become more and more hate filled,  I am able to see clearly what went wrong in our situation and what is wrong now.  
We are placing the responsibility and blame on our kids when it should be on us. When our children are bullied it's oftentimes because the are labeled as different ( we prefer exceptional) but then we automatically turn around and label the "bully" and judge them. 
Bullying does not still exist because kids are born with a bullying gene, it exists because we allow it to. The people we watch on the nightly news were not born with the protester gene any more than they were born with a hate gene. Even worse,  in today's society there are those that are video taping every second of the hate but doing nothing to stop it. 
Before I was dealing with it firsthand,  I had always been under the assumption that most kids and adults will react if they see bullying or hate happening or that in the very least they will react if they see something they know is wrong.  
They do not. 
Which is why no one should be shocked at the events in our schools or in our world.
Bullying starts in our homes when we allow it and accept it. It then moves into the schools and then spreads out into the world. We are the ones raising these bullies and bystanders. 
When we look to blame someone we should look no further than to ourselves. 
It's not the systems fault when our kids are jerks, it is our own. 
At its heart bullying happens when kids are mean and most of the time they are mean because of us. Our homes are the places where character should be taught and lived out every single day, even on the days it is hard. Even when we do not want to. 

Hate doesn't discriminate based on your socioeconomic status. Our child was at a four star school, where the majority of students are middle to upper class. bullying posters hung on the walls, and curriculum was in place regarding bullying yet it still happened and far worse no one reacted to it happening.
Contrary to research kids do not want to step in and many times adults look the other way. Your child is not likely to tell you if they witness or are a victim of a hate filled interaction. 
Our child told us nothing until it became  too much to bear.  We are fortunate he finally said something. It is likely your child will not tell you. which is why when is comes to bullying campaigns we fail year after year.  You can't teach anti- bullying tactics to a whole school of kids who don't posses the strength in their character to stand up for their own self much less others. As parents we are responsible for building that strength of character. 
Instead of anti bullying campaigns in the schools we need to start teaching character in our own homes and to our own children. 
We need to raise kids who will not only be strong enough to stand up for themselves but for others.
So many people were bystanders in our case,  including the parents of the aggressor. This is frightening. 
It means we are not only raising aggressors, we are raising followers who watch it happen and do nothing.  It means sometimes it's the parents who watch and do nothing. 
We see a lot of footage of protests filled with hate but not a lot of people doing anything. They point fingers and make sure to record it while saying nothing. We are not only raising children who think it's ok to publically humiliate others. Far worse is that this same generation finds joy in sharing the humiliation over and over again. instead of stepping in to help. 
In our case
No one stepped in 
Not. 
One. 
Person. 
No adult or child. 
No one. 
It was happening in the classroom, in the hallway, in the lunchroom. It was physical, verbal, on social media and it started with one child and spread like the plague. 
When it was finally addressed 
They excused. 
They blamed us. 
They dismissed.
They allowed it to not only happen but to continue unchecked. 
They did-
The  parents of the aggressor. 
This lack of parenting is what is wrong. 
This trend of thinking our kids can do no wrong and shifting the blame to others is contributing to a downward spiral of our world and if we hit rock bottom we have no one to blame but ourselves. These adults on the news who feel wronged, who are looking to blame anyone but themselves learned that behavior from someone. 

We are watching a generation of kids who would rather video tape a suicide than to step in and stop it. 
Let that sink in. 
We are raising a generation of kids who hide behind screens in their bedrooms with closed doors. 
This is not a debate of time, money, career parents vs. stay at home parents. It's not about single parents or even the age of the parents- it's about actually BEING a parent. 
Having hard conversations. Disciplining. Being our childrens greatest advocate but not their friend. 
Setting an example. 
Checking phones, 
Checking friends. 
Checking where they are. 
ACTIVELY parenting our own children. 

Kids are not mean because it's their nature. They are mean because they are allowed to act that way. 
They are mean because of US. 
This is the next generation. 
If you think we are divided now, wait. It's only going to get worse. 
As technology increases 
Parenting seems to decrease. 
This is why I stopped writing a book about bullying. The realization that nothing will change unless the parents do. We are far past the point that a book will help. We are overworked and stretched thin. Instead of reading we need to  put everything down and reconnect with our children. 
We need to admit we ARE the problem. 
The parents. 
The adults. 
This is our issue. we are raising these kids. 
The ones who tear others down to lift themselves up.
The ones who step on and shove anyone whose in the way. 
The ones, who instead of being happy when their friends succeed, find ways to discredit them. 
We are the ones planning their friendships, jockeying them into the social positions we think they deserve and need. we are the ones raising children who are self centered and entitled. Whose worth comes from a sports team they are on, the grades they receive and the clothes they wear. Who are being taught to shove instead of reach, ignore instead of include and to prey on weaknesses instead of building up strengths. 
We must stop placing the blame on the schools and politicians and party lines and  look no further than to ourselves. 

Our schools and our law enforcement are responsible to REACT to bad behavior but we are responsible for how our kids ACT. We need to step up our game. 

 Our schools can do nothing to prevent bullying if our children are just mean spirited, inclusive brats and they are because we allow it, ignore it and contribute to it. If we continue to raise them with a survival of the fittest attitude. We will never conquer bullying much less our hate filled world. 

One of the hardest things we do as parents is to let our children fail but it is even worse to fill them full of excuses and participation trophies. Parenting is hard and it requires work. It's not always simple and there are days I don't think I will survive it.  I do know, from personal experience that nothing will bring you to your knees harder and faster than when you watch your child suffer at the hands of another child. I don't ever want any family to experience what we did- A burning ember of hate which turned into a fire because it was left unattended and no one had the courage to throw water on it and put it out. 
We must raise kids who learn how to win humbly but lose graciously. The world doesn't owe them a thing. Their teachers and coaches owe them nothing. As their parents we do owe them something. We owe it to them to be an example. A positive one. We owe it to our children to instill character traits that will cause them to choose kindness over hate. Whose buckets will be so full of goodness that they are ready to not only sprinkle drops when needed but dump their buckets out to extinguish a fire! 
We owe our children every minute of our time and every ounce of our loyalty even when it means they will have bruised egos and learn hard lessons. 

I want my children to be good people. I don't want them to be performances junkies or mean spirited. I don't want them to live in a world where their worth is based on social status/ it is not. 
I want them to know that their worth is not based on a team, a friend or academic success. More than anything else I want them to be kind in ALL circumstances. I don't want them to become hardened because of what they have had to endure from others or what is happening in their world. 
I'm sick of repairing the damage mean kids do. I'm sick of having to explain to my kids why these kids have no empathy or consciences but  I'm certainly not going to blame presidents, school administrators or teachers because that only contributes to the  problem and shows them when the world isn't going your way you blame and point fingers or hold up a sign instead of examining your own motives and heart. 

We need to stop blaming everyone else and 
start blaming ourselves. 
We are what has happened. 
We have accepted and ignored behaviors and attitudes that we shouldn't. We have let technology raise our kids and we are exlperiencing the repercussions. 

We should start this school year not only advocating for anti- bullying campaigns and placing new posters on the wall or even lending new voices to the cause but by teaching our own children how to be strong and kind. 
Instead of calling administrators , teachers, coaches and pastors and placing blamie on everyone else I think we need to start this school year by looking at ourselves and taking responsibility.
What we express as important whether it be grades, sports, extra curricular is what will be important to our kids.  We need to start showing our kids kindness is important. Inclusion is important. Acceptance is important. It's just as important when no one is watching as it is when they are in a group. We need to not only talk about these things we need to live them out in our homes. We need to teach our children to be humble, gracious and accepting of everyone and we need to show them in our own actions that we value these things. 
We have the opportunity to show them how to express kindness and character even in the difficult moments. They need to know that character is far more valuable than social status and their value is far greater than being on the top rung of a middle school or high school ladder,  How they choose to treat people reaches far beyond the classroom and into the world. A world our kids will soon be leading. One that will continue to be a cut throat, self-centered, push and shove, one sided world if we don't intervene. 
Inclusion and acceptance are both more powerful than bullying.  Parents, we need to show our children this truth. 

We have gotten lazy. We get caught up in how good we feel when our children are happy and accepted without even realizing who we trample on to get there. We are creating in our children everything but the character traits that will make them empathetic, sensitive, and contributing members of our society.  
Let's stop judging and trying to mend a whole society and start by mending our own children. 
Maybe just maybe if we step in and become active parents we can set an example that we don't allow these behaviors and our kids will follow our lead.
There is far too much hate in our world, in our school and in our own backyards. 
The only way it will stop is if we step in and take a stand against it. To lead by example and dicipline in the hard moments. To make family a priority and not an afterthought. 
We need to step in and step up and Start parenting our children. 
We are what is wrong in this world. 
Let's stop blaming everyone else. 



Friday, November 11, 2016

My Dad

If someone would have told me twenty years ago that the greatest life lessons I would learn from my father would be in his death, I would have called them crazy. If someone would have told me that in 48 years of my life no memory good or bad would override the impact of the last hours of my dad’s life I would not have believed them. 
Being at the bedside of someone you love who is dying can be devastating but it can also be amazing. I will never regret, forget or want to wipe away one moment of those last hours with my dad. I am forever changed.

My dad had a very large presence in life. He was a driven man. He worked hard. He was smart. He was in no way a quiet man. My loud voice, my stubbornness, my voice to causes I feel strongly about are all traits I inherited from my dad.  Colleagues respected my father. My siblings and I sometimes feared him. Few could say they really knew him. There was no mistaking when my dad was in a room.  My dad’s physical presence at 6’6” was intimidating. When his size fifteen shoes were walking quickly toward you there was no mistaking his power. Growing up I learned that I should never wait for those footsteps to get louder but to do my best to move quickly in the other direction as soon as I heard them. His large hand could grip, like he was holding a basketball, the head of even the largest adult when he wanted you to listen. His grip was firm but gentle, he had no problem placing his hand atop your head regardless of if you were a 2 year old not sitting still at church, a 22 year old who made a bad choice, or a 42 year old after brain surgery. There was no mistaking when my dad placed his hand on your head he meant business and expected your undivided attention. In the last hours of his life,  I marveled at my ability to place my hand on his whole head and speak love into him. He looked so small and frail. I said to him. “Dad, I have my whole hand on top of your head so I know you can hear me.” Moments like this I consider blessings now that he is gone. 

People liked to please my father, myself included.  I loved to feel my father’s admiration and I always knew when he was pleased with me. I also knew without a doubt when I had crossed the line and should run the other way.  Even later in my life as my dad’s health started failing and there was no way he could out run me, I still walked briskly in the other direction if a sass would ever escape my grown up lips, never wanting to disappoint him. (or for him to catch me).
My dad was successful, smart and provided every material need. I had more than most children could every dream of having. If I would have asked, even in the days before his death, my dad would have given me his last dime. He provided my siblings and me with the best education from private schools and colleges four year programs through masters degrees and Phd’s, he never wavered in his financial commitment to us.  More importantly, however, was his commitment to grow us as his children. Life lessons. Sometimes they hurt. Sometimes they caused cracks and breaks in our relationship, but never did he neglect the lesson. Every bad choice we made he corrected. Every late night call he came (or sent my mom when he was too angry)The calls, many of them from his mischievous and naughty teenagers in the local jail, all answered. He protected our lives, our honor and our dignity on so many occasions it would take me hours if not days to explain. 
While these memories and occasions I remember and I am certainly humbled by them, it was only in my dad’s final hours that I truly understood the depths of my dad’s love for me. As I sat by his bedside I was remembering his devotion to me in those difficult moments, more  than recalling his financial commitment to me in the every day normal moments of life.  I was not focusing on the material things my father provided for me but about how he loved me.  Everything I have today is in some small or large way due to his love for me. One of the last things my dad said to me before his ability to speak was gone was, “ I love you Mary, you are my daughter. You will always be my daughter.” 
In his last hours of life he was unable to speak. He was unable to sit. He needed comfort. He needed to know he was loved, that he will be missed and that his life had meaning. He did not need to know the status of his bank accounts or if his car was running properly. He needed love. There is a lot to be learned in a moment like that.
 The importance of life is not in the material things you have amassed but that you spoke love into those around you, that your family and friends knew how you felt.  In your last hours a simple touch and a squeeze of the hand is enough. It is what you will want.
My dad’s last hours of life were filled with the simplistic wonder of a child exploring a new room.There were times when his eyes would get wide and his expression would be one of anticipation like a baby bird waiting for food from its mother. Then at other times, the look on my dad’s face was more like the face of a child on Christmas morning.There was something so absolutely beautiful about this time.  Christ’s presence was so undeniable in my dad’s room. He was there speaking directly into my dads heart. He was in the words I read from Psalm 23. He was in my voice as I sang to my dad over and over again the words to Precious Lord Take My Hand. Words that up until that moment, I had no idea I had memorized. God was in my oldest brothers strong and reassuring voice that it was OK to go, that his family was fine. God was in my younger brothers tears as he held his hand to say good-bye. God was the hands of the hospice nurses who gently messaged my dads arms and legs with such kindness it took my breath away. God was in the heart of the nurse who lovingly and repeatedly swabbed out my dad’s mouth, who took her job of keeping him comfortable like it was her only responsibility that day. 
If you have never been at the bedside of a loved one who is dying you might not understand when I say that death can be beautiful. It is sad and beautiful at the same time. I hope that you will never make a decision to delay or forgo a visit with a dying loved one based on your own fear. We have nothing to fear in death. I believe the Holy Spirit carried me through those last hours. I watched as my dad would lift his hand up toward the ceiling and his lips would form a perfect circle. I would ask him,  Is it beautiful dad? Are you amazed? His eyes shone. The look on my dad’s face in those moments filled me with such hope. A hope of what is to come.
On several occasions my dad folded back the sheets from his legs and started moving his feet back and forth. I would say,  “Dad if you see Jesus just start running. Go to him dad, it’s OK, I want you to go to him.” 
As the day went on I realized that whenever my dad was restless my first instinct was to grab his hand but after a while I felt like when I reached for his hand I stopped him. I started to resist the urge to grab his hand, not wanting the joy to stop for him. Excited that his journey to heaven before his eyes and sad that my part was coming to a close. This was ultimately why I chose to leave. I felt like my dad was waiting for me to leave the room. The nurse said that sometimes this happens. One last chivalrous act from a father to his daughter. One last act of protection. She was right.
He died shortly after I waked out the door. 
I’ve thanked God every day since I walked out for that time with my dad.
It has changed me forever. 
It has caused me to start living with heaven in mind, all day, every day.
My entire outlook on life, as well as the way I treat people has completely changed. Why? In the end nothing matters except your relationship with Jesus Christ and the relationships you had with others. It’s really that simple. 

I will no longer leave words unsaid knowing there will be a time I will want to say them and will be unable.  At the same time I will also be more aware that words can sometimes be hollow and my actions say more than words ever could. 
I am choosing to live with an eternal perspective.  Eternity is what I should strive for. It should be on my mind all day- every day. I should not focus on the outcome of an election, if I was right or wrong, if my side won or lost. 
It simply does not matter. 

All go to the same place; all come from dust and to dust all return 
Ecclesiastes 3:20 (NIV)

Life on earth is a short time compared to the eternity you have in heaven. Making this life count while always having heaven in your view should be your goal. 
It will be my goal.
I want to give not only when I am able, but also when it’s difficult.
I want to serve others.
I want to love in all circumstances and to those who deserve it least. 
I want to be present here on earth but live with eternity always on my mind.
I want to prepare more for things which last forever.
I want to care more about my final destination and not focus as much on the pit stops along my way.

My prayer for you all is that you will come to know God so deeply and love others so greatly that you will hardly be able to await your name being  called.

My dad was a great man.

In the experience of watching him die, I feel like I have learned how to live my life again.