Just Another Mom Working the Puzzle

So I have this friend.... Her trip to Target

2011-09-22T12:45:00.005-05:00

So I have this friend... She called me this morning in tears... I wasn't quite sure what to say so I just sat quietly, unwrapped the Dove chocolates for her, and listened... This is what she said...

"I only have a few minutes-- I just have to vent. I have to cry and tell SOMEBODY about it so that I can go about the rest of my day! Ok- so you know my ex-husband stopped paying child support, right? In a perfect world, that's fine-- it was actually the only thing he contributed to his offspring outside of his sperm anyway... So that's a HUGE dent in the family budget. THEN there's the new husband's employment situation... OH! And it just breaks my heart! I mean, can you believe it?! I've NEVER known a guy to work so hard-- I mean-- RIDICULOUSLY HARD-- with so much heart-- so loved by-like-- EVERYONE that sees him-- and yet he gets TOTALLY taken advantage of! SERIOUSLY! I don't even know where to begin with that!

"Ok-- that takes me back to the whole ex-spouse thing.... All I can say about her is PIECE OF WORK! I'd get started on that, but I'm pretty sure I'd have a stroke... Hasn't helped pay for a thing, doesn't care, isn't going to-- not unlike my ex spouse.... Makes you wonder where we found those two, doesn't it? Of course, were it not for them then we wouldn't have our kids-- so I guess there's that....

"Ok-- so where was I? Oh yeah. Ok-- so I have to go to the electric company by 9 am or they are going to turn our power off-- OUR POWER! Nice, right? And if THAT's not enough to just make you want to be sick, I've got to figure out a way to pay for the electricity at the place I volunteer at too... I promised I take care of it this month only I haven't got the slightest idea how I'm going to make that happen when I can't even take care of my own!

"I spent all day yesterday helping this one family get their cat out of a tree-- really sad situation. No one else would help them and their insurance won't cover a thing. Finally got them squared away just in time to go to two other meetings at two other shelters with animal control. And the issues on the table just seem so simple to me! They're hungry-- feed them already! So you think they should have steak every night? Well, that's not likely... Would you settle for 3 out of 7 nights? Better yet, can we just agree on something well balanced? Ah-- now that's more like it....

"Then I get home and I feel like a complete failure. I mean, my pets all look completely unloved. I'm tired-- too tired to take them out for a walk like I had promised. I was even hoping the birds had some food left over from the night before so I didn't have to take the time to cut up an apple. CUT UP AN APPLE! Did you hear me?! I mean, how lame am I? Like it takes that long to cut up an apple?! My husband seemed sad because I was sad and stressed. We've both been pretty stressed. He's been pretty hurt lately-- we both have. We belong to this group-- usually meets every weekend. Well, he was such good friends with most everyone there. As a matter of fact, he'd told me on more than one occasion that one fella in particular was his best friend.... Lately we haven't been going. Been looking for reasons not to go. We're actually kind of nervous about taking the dogs with us. Got the feeling that not everyone in the group is as comfortable with the dogs as they had led us to believe. Afraid someone might get bit. I don't know-- it's a disaster really. We needed that group. We love that group. We are so hurt.

"So I was feeling totally hopeless, completely responsible, like a failure. I had to make a quick stop at the store for some treats and I ran into a friend that I haven't seen in a long, long time. She quickly reminded me that my oldest was only a year old when she got married 14 years ago, that my youngest is getting ready to have another birthday. Suddenly a life from long ago flashed before my eyes..."

For the first time since she started talking, my friend took a breath, paused, and then with tears in her eyes continued in a much slower pace.....

"I remembered a time when I had only one child and had no idea what it was like to want or need anything for her future. I remembered nearly losing a second child and how the pain of that period of time was greater than any I'd ever known and any I've known since. I was reminded that I am loved beyond all comprehension by a very special man that God gave me-- not because I chose right the first time, but because my God-- you see-- He's got a plan for me. He's got a plan and a purpose for everything under Heaven. I realized yet again that all of the 'things' clouding my mind were just temporary hurdles and that not one of them-- not a single one-- was too big or too much of a surprise to separate me, my husband, or my precious family from the all powerful hand of God.

I wasn't sure what to say. "Sounds to me like you're doing just fine," is all I could come up with.... "Why'd you come here to cry?"

"Well," she said, "I guess I just needed someone this side of Heaven to hear it too.... Besides, there was NO WAY I could have unwrapped all of that chocolate and kept the car on the road!"

Two things-- maybe three... First, the names, situations, and circumstances have been altered to protect the innocent (and the guilty for that matter). Second, I am sharing this with you because I think we all have days like this. Sure, we'd all like to think we can just pray about it and react positively, but the truth is we're human and sometimes-- maybe even more often than we'd like-- we just don't. Life on this planet stinks sometimes-- it just does. It is what it is. You get what you get. Third, just as certain as I am that you get what you get-- I am equally as certain of this--- failure is not falling down, but refusing to get back up... And as a Christian, with God by your side to carry the load-- or even to carry you-- what could possibly be your excuse for not getting back up?!

Here's to my chatty friend and her unexpected encounter at the store.... Hope it blesses you as much as it blessed me!

Leslie

Dancing in the Rain

2011-09-06T15:40:00.005-05:00

I can't believe Labor Day has already come and gone! Where does time go?! It seems like the summer was just beginning-- I blinked and Labor Day had come and gone! And the rain! I don't know where you are or what the weather is like there, but it has been raining here for the last 3 glorious days! It's cool, steady, wonderful rain-- much welcomed relief from the dry heat and summer sun.

Michael and Isaac headed back to work and to school today. The two little boys and I are home for one final day of the long holiday weekend. (It's parent-teacher conference day...) It's been a suprisingly tough school year for Matthew and Joshua so far. Maybe I should rephrase that. It's been a surprisingly tough school year for Michael and I so far....

I don't know. What is it like to have typical kids? Seriously. Matthew and Josh aren't likely to sit down and strike up a conversation with you. Heck-- Joshua hasn't really said much of anything yet and he'll be 7 in October.... We've known for some time that underneath the cloud of anxiety that seems to follow Matthew with his autism-- he's a very bright little boy. He spends hours and hours watching educational videos about wildlife. He has hundreds of books about big cats and jungle animals. He loves to play on the computer. When Michael and Isaac joined our family Matthew really began to blossom. I am still amazed when I see the Matthew that we know today and compare him to the Matthew we knew just a little over a year ago.

And Josh-a-bosh. Sometimes I think he's reading all of the time. Of course, there's really no way to tell because he's not compelled to share any of that with the rest of us. He's always been fascinated with letters and patterns. He seeks symmetry and order in ways that I would otherwise overlook. I'm sure there is a very complex mind behind those precious little eyes. Sadly, in all of his 6 years on this earth I haven't yet figured out how to get inside-- I don't even know how to get an invitation inside that mind of his. Joshua has also blossomed under the loving, tender care of Michael and Isaac. There is no question that they have been able to forge very powerful connections with that little boy.

So-- this afternoon-- like so many afternoons, mornings, and evenings-- I was secretly feeling incredibly defeated. It seems like there's always a storm raging-- there's always a battle to be won. I can't just take for granted that the boys are going to learn to read or write. I can't assume that we'll always be able to go to church as a family or that the boys will ever have the opportunity to hear about the saving grace of Jesus Christ from anyone other than Michael and I. I can't afford every kind of therapy there is out there for autism and then some. I don't know that we'll always be able to afford their medicine and medical care. There are just so many things that they need-- so many things that come so easily to children and families that don't have special needs--- so many things that just take so much more work--- so many reasons to be so completely overwhelmed.....

For a few minutes this afternoon, I decided to take both of the boys out onto the back porch. It's rainy and quite chilly-- so we didn't stay out there long.... Matthew asked me to take him outside. I think he just needed to see for himself how chilly it actually was.... Once outside, I asked Matthew what he wanted to do. "Dance, Mommy, dance!" And so-- with Josh on one hip and Matthew holding the other arm-- we danced outside in the rain. We giggled and twirled and jiggled and got down right cold and wet. We probably weren't out there for more than 3 or 4 minutes, but during those 3 or 4 minutes none of the things that I wasn't seemed to matter. We didn't solve any of the world's problems, re-write any IEP goals, or develop any new Sunday School curriculum. We didn't solve our family budget issues, find a cheaper, bigger family car, or even figure out what to make for dinner. We just laughed and danced--albeit awkwardly-- in the rain.

Then it hit me. It was another postcard from above... During those few minutes outside the storm didn't matter as much as my willingness to stop and dance with them in the rain. I'm not sure who said it, but I recently stumbled on a quote that says "Life is not about waiting for the storm to pass, but about learning how to dance in the rain." Ok-- so not exactly Scriptural-- but how about these verses from the book of James (1:2-3)? "Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing."

It's almost time for dinner. Another day has almost come and gone. I'm still no closer to solving the world's problems than I was when I started. The boys aren't any less affected by their autism. As a matter of fact, our circumstances haven't changed at all. But tonight there's a crockpot full of soup in the kitchen, candles on the fireplace, clean- sweet smelling little boys eagerly awaiting the arrival of their daddy after a long day at work, and lots and lots of love and laughter. Tonight-- once again-- I find myself blessed and humbled by all of the good things He has done and continues to do in and around this house. I am joyful to know that there is no trial too big, no test too tough that it can ever separate me from my Father above! I am thankful for His loving reminder that He is always more than enough....

Now it's your turn! Leave your umbrella in the house and go dance in the rain! Give it a try!Leslie

God's Supply and Blessings

2011-04-23T11:42:00.009-05:00

Ever find yourself wondering why things are the way they are? Ever wonder what it would be like to have enough money to pay the house payment AND the electric bill? Ever wonder why your brother's kids are so precious and perfect and typical and yours aren't? Ever wonder why God allows "bad things to happen to good people?" Ever wonder why He chooses to answer some prayers and seems to ignore others?

Well, I do-- all of the time. I'd love to say that those questions were ones that I made up for the sake of this blog, but the truth is I wonder about those things all of the time. Now if you know me, I am hopeful that you would describe me as an upbeat, positive individual that never takes no as an answer, enjoys conquering the seemingly impossible, and believes with all of my heart that we can never, never give up.... And, on most days, I am that person (or at least I think I am).

Last week I was sitting in my office. A friend came by to visit and we ended up talking about the mission and ministry of Faces of Hope. Sometimes I almost feel defensive when people ask me why on earth we keep doing what we do in the face of such adversity. I have a love-hate relationship with the statement that "God's work done in God's way is never short of God's supply." I believe the statement itself to be absolutely true. It's our interpretation of "God's supply" that gives me pause. What is His supply anyway? Does that mean we'll always have enough to pay the bills we think are important? Does that mean we'll never feel like giving up--that we'll never question our true calling simply because the water isn't nearly as still as we imagined it would be when we took that first step out of the boat?

A few hours after the conversation in my office, God sent me a postcard-- it's something He does all of the time... This one was in the form of a song.... I'll insert a link below, but the words go something like this:

We pray for blessings, we pray for peace,
Comfort for family, protection while we sleep.
We pray for healing, for prosperity
We pray for Your mighty hand to ease our suffering.
All the while, You hear each spoken need
Yet love us way too much to give us lesser things.

'Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears
What if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You're near
What if my greatest disappointments or the aching of this life
Is the revealing of a greater thirst this world can't satisfy?
And what if the trials of this life--
The rain, the storms, the hardest nights--
Are Your mercies in disguise.

Easter is upon us. I can't help but think of that horrible day when Christ was nailed to the cross. I wonder if any of the people that were watching thought that it might not have been God's work done in His way? I mean, it must have seems as though God's supply had run short-- especially when Christ cried out in agony and the sky turned black as night.

Those onlookers would have been right-- had Christ's body been in that grave 3 days later. Miraculously-- in a way that only He can-- God displayed His mighty hand, erased our suffering, and healed us with His tears and the blood of His only Son. In an instant, His mercies were no longer disguised!

I still don't have all of the answers that I'd like to have. I'm not going to lie and say that my flesh feels any better about the burdens it has to bear. I can't explain the aching of this life and I don't understand why it aches more for some than for others, but I do know this: I know His mercy, I've seen His grace, and I've felt His healing. And I am certain that the "trials of this life-- the rain, the storms, the hardest nights-- are His mercies in disguise."

Happy Hope-Filled Easter to you all!
Leslie

While I Was Waiting....

2010-05-27T16:38:00.012-05:00

Four years ago today life for the boys and I changed for forever. It was 4 days after our ninth wedding anniversary. Brian had decided it was best if he left. It was just one more heartache-- we had weathered so many with Matthew's autism and Joshua's birth, heart failure and surgery. Shortly after that Joshua was diagnosed with autism, I began having heart problems of my own, and then Faces of Hope was born.

I can remember praying, sobbing to the Lord several times a day, begging Him to deliver us from the hurts and struggles. I can remember telling Him exactly what I needed to be a good single Mom and to get Faces of Hope off the ground. I thought I was incredibly convincing. Nothing was going our way and every time we took one step forward we seemed to run two or three steps back! I was so frustrated! In hindsight, I'm so glad we're no longer living in Old Testament times! I'm pretty sure some of my attitude filled prayers would have resulted in me spontaneously combusting or turning into a pillar of salt or something!

I was reading the other day and came across the following statement: "God never withholds something good unless He has something better...." Then yesterday someone said "Sometimes things need to fall apart to fall into place." Jeremiah 29:11 says "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to give you hope and a future." I felt a little like He was smacking me on the head with a 2 x 4! How guilty I have been of thinking God had forgotten us or that He was "withholding the good!" Over the past few years I've been learning a great deal. Most of it has been about waiting--- and I SOOOO hate to wait!

I can't help but think of the Isrealites and Joshua. Remember when they crossed the Red Sea? The city of Jericho was just in their reach and God told Joshua that they needed to stop and wait. They must have been so frustrated! They knew Jericho was theirs and they were ready for a fight. Instead, God told them that they all needed to be circumcised! YIKES! Can you imagine being that close to an enemy and so vulernable? God wanted the Isrealites to get themselves right before Him, He wanted them to be obedient in circumcision. He gave them time to heal and He got their attention. He made sure they were listening to Him. Had He allowed them to go directly from the miracle of the parting of the Red Sea to Jericho they would have never been able to quietly march around that city and follow God's direction. In much the same way, during the past few years God has been slowing me down, healing my brokeness, and strengthening me for what is to come. He was getting my attention! I needed to practice "being still" and listening to His prompting.

You see, while I was waiting for Him to prepare His perfect plan, He was preparing ME for His perfect plan!

God has been so good to us. He has blessed me, my family, and Faces of Hope more than I ever imagined He could-- and He continues to do so. This morning His newest gift to me, Michael and Seth Lee, and I attended Joshua's preschool graduation. Immediately after that Michael and Igot our marriage license. MARRIAGE LICENSE! That's right-- in a few short weeks I will be retiring my title as "single mom" and embracing a love like I've never known before and most assuredly from Heaven above. God has sent me Michael and his sons Seth and Isaac. If you ever hear Michael speak of these past few years He will tell you that it has been a time of healing and redirection in His life as well. Had we met any sooner than we did, had we been blessed with what we perceived to be "good," we would have completely missed out on "better."

While I was waiting I fell in love with my Savior. Only then was I ready for the blessings He has had in store. Talk about worth the wait!

Love you guys.

Leslie

Against All Odds

2009-12-15T15:20:00.013-06:00

December 15th is always a surprisingly emotional day for me... Five years ago on this very day Dr. Drinkwater and his team came in and took a tiny, pale, cold 10-week-old baby boy from my arms and into open heart surgery. He had lost weight, required a blood transfusion, had an NG tube... He had spent the 7 weeks prior to December 15th in congestive heart failure on my chest or in my arms. The team of cardiologists that had become a part of his life when he was only 24 hours old cautioned that due to his size and rapidly deterioriting condition the surgery that he desperately needed could in fact end his little life.

I will NEVER forget the day after Joshua was born... I had gone to get him from the nursery and he wasn't there. They told me that they had taken "the Face baby" down for a "STAT echocardiogram." Having spent my entire adult life working as and teaching paramedics, those words made my own heart stop. I was at the hospital alone. A few minutes later when the doctors came into the room I saw their student begin drawing a sketch of the heart. Everything about the hours immediately after that is a blur-- everything except the pain in my soul! I remember crying on his sweet little head and I remember not even having the words to pray! All I could do was weep. Oh that we might lose this sweet little boy! Oh the horror of know what it meant for him to require open heart surgery and chest tubes and catheters!

A few days later we left the hospital with the hope of being able to keep Josh home and healthy until he could double his birthweight. Two and a half weeks later it was clear that that was not going to be possible. The cardiology team told us the longer we could keep him alive WITHOUT surgery-- the more likely his tiny little heart would be able to SURVIVE it... Again, the weeks in between his birth and his surgery are still a blur. I can remember trying desperately to pray and simply not having the words or knowing even what to pray for.

The morning we found out that he was going to require surgery within 48 hours I remember "stumbling" on the passage in 1 Samuel 1:27-28. "For this boy I prayed, and the Lord has given me my petition which I asked of Him. So I have also dedicated him to the Lord; as long as he lives he is dedicated to the Lord." A gentle reminder from Heaven above. A reminder of God's love and mercy-- that He had granted my plea for another little boy. A reminder of God's omniscience and grace-- that as much as I loved Joshua, his Heavenly Father loved him more.

I remember watching them walk out of the room with my baby boy. I remember finally having the words to pray... "Dear God in Heaven, THANK YOU for choosing me to be his mom. THANK YOU for blessing my life with this little miracle. If it's time for You to take him back, all I can say is THANK YOU for sharing him while You did." In that moment, I let go, my faith grew, and my life has never been the same.

Every night when I give Josh a bath, I see the scar on his chest and I feel the wire that holds those tiny bones together and I remember. I am still thanking God. I'm thanking Him for the miracle of life, for the miracle of love, and the miracle of adversity. I thank Him that His grace still proves to be sufficient.

A frantic mother called me last night looking for Faces of Hope. Her little boy was just diagnosed with autism and a host of other developmental delays and complications. "I used to believe in God," she sobbed, "but how could He? How could He allow this to be?" I cried with her and my answer surprised me. "How could He not?"

I cannot imagine my life without Matthew and Joshua. I cannot imagine my life without their individual battles with autism. I cannot imagine having even one day without some kind of struggle. And most importantly, I cannot imagine the person that I would be had God above not chosen to speak to my heart, to touch my life, to help me see life through His eyes and the eyes of these precious little boys. How could He not?

Against all odds, today Joshua James is a happy, healthy little boy. The only thing warmer than he once frigid toes is his precious smile. I wouldn't trade him or our struggle for the world. His birth, his life, their autism-- they are all constant reminders to me that MY God doesn't care at all about the odds. His will is perfect, His grace without end. And because of His love for me, against all odds, my heart is saved!

You are a precious, courageous little boy, Joshua James. I love you.......

Surprisingly Surprised-- NO MORE!

2009-11-29T18:13:00.009-06:00

At our house, life is hardly ever routine. Our lives are literally full of surprises. Some surprises (like the poop actually IN the potty or our first ever "playdate" on the swings) are good surprises and others (like the discovery of the 3 sticks of butter that have been missing for a few months or the once full bottles of Tide, Downy, and Clorox in the washer WITH clothes) not as good. Not a day goes by that there isn't one kind of surprise or another here at the Face house....

I have recently come to the realization that there are some things that surprise me that are surprising-- because they really should be surprising at all! When was the last time you prayed for something? I mean really prayed-- as if your life or the life of someone you care about depended on your prayer? What happened when you prayed? Did His answer surprise you?

Shamefully, His answers surprise me all of the time. In just the past few weeks, I've seen God heal cancer (COMPLETELY), win souls that have been lost for decades, pay the bills at Faces of Hope, and that's just a FEW of the things I've seen Him do! The sad part? Absolutely none of those things should be surprising to me at all! When I was preparing to have surgery a few weeks ago, I "stumbled" across a few verses that I had never noticed before....

2 Chronicles 14: 11 "Then Asa called to the Lord his God and said, "Lord, there is no one besides You to help in the battle between the powerful and those who have no strength; so help us, O Lord our God, for we trust in You...."

Asa was the king at the time. He was facing a formidable enemy. Instead of taking it upon himself to defeat that enemy, he prayed that prayer. In the verse that follows it simply says "So the Lord routed (the enemy) and (they) fled." The Bible continues in the next verse to say that so many of the enemy "fell that they could not recover for they were shattered before the Lord and before His army." Asa prayed and God answered. Simple. Powerful. True.

Ok-- so a few of you are probably saying "Duh-- and that surprised you?!"

No-- the words in the Bible didn't surprise me-- their continued relevance and truth today DID! I was surprised that all I had to do was believe that He is able, know that He will, and TRUST HIM.

He is the Creator of Heaven and earth and there is NO ONE besides Him to help-- and He will. He does. All you have to do is ask......

I like good surprises. Maybe someday Joshua will surprise me with a "hello" or "I love you." I'm going to keep looking forward to those kinds of surprises. As I've grown in the last few weeks, I've realized that claiming His promises-- believing, knowing, and trusting-- is a much better way to experience God and His grace than just hoping to be surprised.... His mercy and is faithfulness are a guarantee EVERY SINGLE TIME. No reason for surprise there at all....

So how 'bout it? Ever find yourself surprisingly surprised?

The Least of These

2009-10-11T22:48:00.006-05:00

I was recently in a local store when the gentleman behind the counter began asking me about Faces of Hope. I’m still haunted by the way the expression on his face changed as I explained that we serve children and families with autism and other special needs. While he was not unkind to me personally, his lack of tolerance for these children was apparent. He was telling me about a family that used to go to his church. It was clear—very clear—that he had no patience or compassion whatsoever for their struggle. As a matter of fact, he said numerous times that he thought the only thing wrong with “the kid” was his parents. “They don’t go to our church anymore—thankfully,” he said. I am still a bit taken back by his change in demeanor and attitude.

For obvious reasons, that encounter bothered me. I remember a few years back (I think it was a few years) when “WWJD” was all the rage. I never did jump on that wagon—I was actually a bit put off by it. Not because it isn’t a noble thing to ask, but because most of the time when I saw someone sporting a bumper sticker or bracelet their actions and attitudes were anything but what I thought Jesus would do. It seemed insincere to me. As I was standing in that store listening to that “Christian” all I could think was “Hey, mister! What do you think Jesus would do or have done for that family? Think He cares about them? Think their salvation is important to Him? Think He would welcome them with open arms?” I was really pretty upset.

Last night I made a sickening discovery and with the sickening discover came the humbling reminder that I am a better person because of my boys. You see, while I am still upset by the gentleman in the store, the truth is that a few years ago I would have been the one lacking tolerance and patience and compassion. I would have been the one carelessly spouting off about being glad that a family no longer attended church where I did. I can almost hear myself… “Yeah, yeah—what would Jesus do… I get it. He’d be kind... I mean, the guy was perfect. If I had all of the power that Jesus had I’d probably react better to. ….”

Matthew 25 is a familiar passage to many. The verse most often quoted is verse 40, “I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.” I used to like to think of myself as benevolent. This sounded easy to me--- feed and clothe those less fortunate. We’ve all donated a bag or two of clothes to the Goodwill or taken a can of soup to church for a food drive….EASY.

If you look a few verses down in Matthew 25 that passage continues… “42For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, 43I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me.'

44"They also will answer, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger needing clothes or sick or in prison, and did not help you?' 45"He will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.'

When I read that the other night it took my breath away! Whatever you DID NOT DO for one of the least of these YOU DID NOT DO FOR ME. Didn’t want them in your church? Didn’t want JESUS in your church… Didn’t have compassion for them? Didn’t have compassion for CHRIST. Didn’t offer support and encouragement or even just a smile and kind eyes to them? Didn’t offer ANY of that to JESUS. When you focus on THOSE verses our actions, attitudes, and inaction all suddenly seem so much worse! I’ll be honest—had God not blessed my life with Matthew and Joshua I’m not so sure I would have ever REALLY paid attention to the message in those verses.

To the gentleman I met the other day: I know the family you were so disgusted about and they happen to be some of the most sincere, compassionate, Christ-like people I’ve ever met. I also know that they are struggling with many more obstacles and disabilities than you are aware. I still get a sick feeling in my stomach when I revisit our conversation, but not because I’m passing any judgment on you. Not at all. I am humbled by God’s amazing grace, His patience, and forgiveness for ever thinking that way myself.

The “WWJD” craze seems to have passed at least for now. Maybe the question shouldn’t be “What would Jesus do?” Maybe it should be “What are you doing?” When was the last time you passed judgment, got irritated, jumped to a wrong conclusions, gave unwelcoming glances or displayed a less than kind attitude? Would you change any of your behavior if it had been Christ standing in front of you instead of that person? That very thought sure has given me something to think about.....What about you? What have YOU done to WHOM lately?! The answer SHOULD be "I love them." I believe with all of my heart that it really is that simple. Love them as He commanded and let Him do the rest.

Leslie

God Bless this Mess!

2009-09-10T18:21:00.005-05:00

I had to go to the dentist the week before last. I was certain that I had some horrible something wrong with a few of my teeth-- they actually hurt every time I took a step.... Imagine my surprise when the dentist told me my teeth were beautiful and healthy in spite of the fact that it has been two years since I've had them cleaned.... The source of my pain? It seems that I am grinding my teeth... And when I say grinding my teeth I mean grinding them so that the ones on the right side of my mouth are noticeably shorter than the ones on the left..... I left the dentist's office (with an appointment for a cleaning) wondering if the origin of the pain I was having could possibly be that simple.....

Matthew and Joshua are having an incredible year at school. I've seen little Joshua do things I never imagined he would. He LOVES going to school. He's learning to communicate and doing all kinds of big boy stuff. Matthew, well, Matthew is really starting to talk. I continue to be amazed at some of his words of wisdom. His growing independence is exciting and frightening all at the same time. He can get into and out of anything and everything... There is no safe place for the knives, the matches, the phones, the remotes, and sometimes even the pets....

As exciting as all of this is, I have found another level of exhaustion. It seems my little men prefer to live in chaos. Josh likes pillows, blankets, books, and newspapers all over the place. He's not content for them to be neatly put away. He's also learned that if he shakes the bird cage hard enough water and seeds will fly everywhere.... Then there's Matthew... (See, if we talked every day that would say it all....) I have never known a child to enjoy watching dirt turn into dust when you throw it, making mud, playing in water, and just generally making messes as much as he does. As much as I love him, there are truly no words to describe some of the images in my permanent memory of some of the messes he has made.

Last week I was busy doing chores and walked back into the kitchen from doing the laundry. To my left was the living room and what was left of the bird cage, the newspaper, and a pillow. (Josh) To my right was muddy foot prints, an empty box of sticks of butter, an empty can of cooking spray, and a gerbil, dog, cat, fish tank, and floor glistening with slippery substances. I didn't yell, I just sat down at the table and became acutely aware that the pain in my teeth was not because I grind my teeth in my sleep, but because--- in anticipation of the devastation that I might find when I enter a room at our house--- I CLENCH MY TEETH!

That night while I was cleaning up, I had a little chat with God. It started out with an almost hateful "Could You just tell them to cut me some slack? I mean, can they just stop making messes?!" It progressed to a kind of bargaining "Well, if You aren't going to stop the messes can You at least give me some super power ability to clean it up lightning fast?" It ended with a begrudging "Fine, then if You can just help me see them and love them more like You do..."

Tonight I am happy to provide a progress report of sorts.

Just this afternoon I learned that if you put the bottle of dishwasher detergent in the dishwasher and turn it on-- it will melt. I learned that the dog is allergic to shaving cream, television remotes float, and the right kind of mud can actually stain a linoleum floor.

This week I noticed that Joshua seems to have a little song in his heart. He's beginning to sing and makes melodies out of the different sounds that he hears when I speak. He laughs with his whole heart and looks straight into my soul when he grabs my chin and looks at my eyes. I noticed that Matthew likes to live out loud. He likes what he likes and never lets what anyone else thinks deter him from something he enjoys doing. He does everything he does with 110% of his being. He is a happy little guy too. He is learning how to be polite and does his best to love his animals like he wants to be loved.

The people outside of this house, but in my every day are more intriguing, less frustrating, and generally more enjoyable. AND MY TEETH DON'T HURT. I'm no less tired, still spend a great deal of time cleaning up messes, and have yet to figure out exactly what happened to 4 whole sticks of butter; I AM, however, happy and not nearly as stressed by the mess as I was just a couple of weeks ago. I've even found myself laughing in amazement at how blessed our mess really is..........

May God bless you and your mess.....

(Got to go-- just heard Matthew say "uh-oh" and "I'm sorry" immediately after the sound of something breaking upstairs......)

Love, Leslie

Simple Grace

2009-08-16T17:58:00.004-05:00

I took one of the sides off of Joshua's crib yesterday. He's got his little satin sheet, memory foam pillows, even a mesh tent over the top to keep him from climbing out at night. It's a nice little place-- I'm sure he'd be content to live in there for the rest of his life! The thing is, I can hear him in there at night banging around-- hitting his head and his long legs when he moves at night.

In a moment of bravery I decided that if he can go to school for an entire week like a big boy maybe it's time he tried a big boy bed.... At 3:30 this morning I was rethinking that bravery... He awoke screaming like someone had pinched him-- VERY upset to find himself outside of the comfort of his crib.

Needless to say, little Joshua hasn't been the happiest, most rested camper today. He FINALLY fell asleep on the couch only to wake up crying and out of sorts. I tried everything to console him--- I tried a number of his favorite DVDs, books, juice, cookies, changed his diaper, got him a clean sniffy, more pillows.... Nothing helped. There were only two tricks left: a bath or some praise music. I opted for the music. I found a song we sang in church this morning and played it on the computer, picked him up, and started singing....

Before the song was over, we were BOTH laughing, smiling, and dancing! All the weariness and stress of a long night and a longer day were gone-- for BOTH of us. We were singing.... "How great, great Your kindness is to us. How great, how great Your mercy is to us. How great, how great Your healing is to us. How great the love the Father lavishes on us!" Another crisis averted in the Face house.

A few minutes later I realized that, once again, I had learned more about the grace and mercy of God through one of my children. Suddenly I was reminded that God commands us to rejoice and be glad because this is the day He has made. I've been struggling, stressed, and a bit disheartened this week. I was wrong to be any of those things. In hindsight, I guess you could even say I was unhappy because I was so much more comfortable in MY crib... He knows it's better for me out here.

This afternoon as we were singing (me) and squealing (Josh) at the top of our
lungs our hearts and minds were flooded with sweet relief. Nothing else
mattered. Nothing else could compare to the transformation that had taken place in just a few minutes time!

I learned something else about grace today-- it's simple. HE says "This is the day, rejoice and be glad." WE need only rejoice. PERIOD. It doesn't matter if we like being outside of our comfort zone. It doesn't matter if we have all of the things we think we need to have. It just doesn't matter. It's impossible for me to sing and dance with a giggling Joshua and still be stressed or disheartened or even weary. And-- thankfully-- it's impossible to fret or doubt or be defeated when I am focusing my attention on rejoicing about "how great" His mercy, kindness, and love are! Simple really. Simple grace.

I'm happy to report that it's been a few hours and we're still singing and dancing here at the face house. Josh is really getting into it now-- flapping and hopping-- it's really something to see! So-- my challenge to you and to myself is simple: rejoice because He said so-- not because you want to, not because you feel giddy or ridiculously happy-- just do it because He said so..... His greatness will flood your soul and whatever crisis you thought you had will have been averted. "How Great" is that?!

Love and Prayers to you,

Leslie

PS- "How Great" is a really neat, happy song by Jami Smith. Google her or look it up on itunes-- go ahead-- I dare you to escape His blessing and listen to that song at the same time!

Scary Grace

2009-08-01T12:52:00.002-05:00

Matthew was having a particularly tough night a few months ago. I'm not really sure what was bothering him, but that night EVERYTHING was a crisis. "Matthew, can you help me pick up some of these animals?" I asked. "Ohhhh nooooo- Mashew-- pick up the animals-- right now!" he shouted. "Matthew, let's go take a bath." "Take a bath-- right now, Mashew, take a bath!" he yelled back. After what I am sure sounded like some kind of torture-- our very own version of waterboarding or something-- we emerged from the bathroom-- both of us wet and at least one of us nice and clean. As he ran down the stairs-- naked, of course-- he began to scream at the top of his lungs. He wasn't saying anything that I could interpret, but he was clearly upset.

I had been trying to calmly and patiently tell him that he was ok-- that everything was fine... I didn't seem to be getting my point across so I decided I would join Matthew in screaming..... "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh," I screamed from the top of the stairs. Matthew stopped in his tracks, looked at me, and screamed again. I came down the stairs and was standing in front of him trying to get him a diaper-- and I screamed again-- just like he did.

He looked in my mouth, reached for his diaper, and very calmly-- as if he hadn't been crying and carrying on for the last hour--- he said "You're scary...."

Needless to say, I couldn't stop laughing and neither could he. The crisis was FINALLY over! Whatever it was that had been bothering him seemed to vanish as he redirected his focus on his scary mom.....

I was listening to another mom relate her evening ritual with her son who has special needs. She was in tears and desperate for some kind of peaceful solution or plan.... I didn't provide her with any advice-- not really even any personal insight. I will have to say, though, that after she left I found myself wondering when that part of my life became our normal. When did I get so used to all of that screaming and fussing? When did I learn to tune it out-- to keep it from feeling like a crisis? I mean, how does that happen?

I hate to oversimplify, but the more I think about it I believe the answer is grace. Nothing more and nothing less. Just good, old fashioned, never-goes-out-of-style grace! I'm learning as I go that God is always eager to answer a quick prayer for grace-- and not just the salvation kind, but the "Lord, give me strength, calm my frustration, help me not to scream" kind.... I'm also learning that my relationship with the Lord is alot like my relationship with Matthew in reverse. I can only imagine how many times I've been doing my own share of "screaming and fussing" over something I perceived as a crisis.... Then, when I pause for just a second and readjust my focus-- the crisis and frustration have passed.

My challenge to all of you is that this week when you find yourself wanting to growl at your coworker or scream at your spouse or your kids or even yourself--- try looking at the situation through the Creator's eyes. I'd be willing to bet that your frustration will be dwarfed by a glimpse at the big picture. Matthew still has his moments. Sometimes his frustration gets the best of him. But sometimes when he senses that we both need a good laugh he tells me I'm scary and in that moment we're basking in our very special version of what we call "scary grace!" The only thing "scary" about it would be not having it at all!

Have a GREAT week!

Leslie

Out of the Mouths of Babes-- or movies....

2009-06-25T18:30:00.001-05:00

I don't know how it is at YOUR house, but at OUR house movies are pretty
important. As a matter of fact, there is ALWAYS something in the DVD player. If I've seen the movies we own once-- I've probably seen them at least 500 times... Much of Matthew's vocabulary is actually bits and pieces of the different movies and animal shows that he watches. Most impressive is his ability to be able to use those phrases in the right context in different
conversations....

Here are just a few of some of his most memorable "conversations:"

"Bird moms make GREAT moms!" (from Zoboomafoo) He was frustrated with me at the time... I knew that was he was really telling me was "Now see if you were a bird mom, you'd have done that right!"

"Just smile and wave, Mom, just smile and wave." (from Madagascar) We were getting ready to get out of the car and I noticed someone that I wasn't all that excited about seeing....

"I've been tryin' to get out of here for 3 days!" (from Cars) I had just told him to get out of the dirt....

Of course there are other conversational gems--- we had a new babysitter a few years ago and she had decided to sit down and watch one of Matthew's "Be the Creature" DVDs. (I guess I should have warned her about the whole elephants getting eaten by the lions scene, but then it never bothered Matthew.) Evidently, while they were watching the babysitter hopped up in horror trying to turn the images off-- all the while Matthew was saying "Aw, gone to be with
Jesus! It's ok!" On a similar note, there are the times we've been at the pediatrician or in the ER while Matthew was watching his "Living with the Tigers" DVD... "Oh, look at the ostrich, Matthew," some poor, unsuspecting doctor or nurse will say... Moments later they realize with a
gasp that the ostrich is not actually the star of the DVD-- just dinner for the tigers. "All God's
creatures have to eat," he'll say-- never missing a beat.

My new favorite comes on the heals of a series of what I like to call postcards from above-- you know, those life lessons that God keeps sending your way. For me, there is usually a recurring theme for a week or so. This week's theme has been "going and not knowing," "moving forward in faith," and just plain having faith in the things we can't see. I couldn't help but laugh moments
ago when I told him to watch where he was going...

"I don't need to see where I'm going," he said. "I just need to know where I've
been...." (Mater, Cars)

Good ole Mater.... Now listen to this-- from Sunday's sermon... It's Hebrews 11:8

"By faith Abraham, when called to go to a place he would later receive as his
inheritance, obeyed and went, even though he did not know where he was going."

WOW. I'll admit that I'm not the most faithful. I tend to argue with God-- I often tell Him that I am certain that He is making a mistake... And what is this "by faith?" I mean, do you ever find yourself wondering how any intelligent, responsible human being could just step out of a perfectly sound boat in the middle of a storm to walk on the water? I do-- all of the time.

I was doing just that a few minutes ago-- wondering about the boys, about Faces of Hope-- about picnics and skills groups, new therapists and programs-- lots of " but how" and "what if"... Then, as if right on cue Matthew says "I don't need to see where I'm going-- I just need to know where I've been." Now THAT'S one heck of a postcard! And such a personal one! It is as though the Heavens are reminding me that while faith is scary and my obedience in "going without knowing" is required-- it is NOT something I have to do without assurance. I think I FINALLY read the WHOLE postcard and understand that though I don't know where I'm going-- I don't know the HOWs and the WHYs and the WHAT IFs-- I DO know the WHO! I know WHO He is and where I've been-- with and without Him. Isn't that great?!

I don't know about you, but this journey is tough. It seems that as He grows your faith, He asks you to use it more and more. There's nothing glamorous about it-- nothing easy, logical, or even seemingly rational about our journey forward... Thanks to the wisdom of a little fella that borrows his words from movies-- I think I'm going to just enjoy the view-- I'm going to try going forward into the unknown by looking behind me tand remembering all of the promises and prayers that have been asked and answered already! I'm sure it's going to be quite a ride.... Wanna come?!

PS- For the record, the boys and I and Faces of Hope ALWAYS covet your prayers-- it helps to know that people like you are paving the road ahead with your prayers! We're praying for you, too! See you when we get there.......

Brand New Day

2009-06-21T01:19:00.006-05:00

It's been one of those days... Tonight I found myself in a puddle of tears-- more than once. Nothing tragic happened today-- as a matter of fact- it was a relatively uneventful day in comparison with most here in the Face house. I'll admit that I am tired-- Matthew's been to the hospital twice and the doctor's office twice, Joshua's been to the doctor twice, and I broke my foot-- all in the last week and a half.... Most days we are able to take it in stride-- I've even been known to joke about my super hero cape....

Since the birth of Faces of Hope, I don't often share the heartache that sneaks up on me. I try to honestly to have faith and to pray for that peace that surpasses all understanding if for no other reason to encourage the parents and families that are watching our journey. At the end of the day there is no question that the boys and I are blessed beyond belief. It is a privilege to be their mom. I would not be the person that I am today had I not been given these two precious little boys.

Even still, tonight I found myself revisiting one or two of those stages of grief. I watched Matthew as he tried to tell me what was bothering him. A great deal of the things he says are scripted from different movies or DVDs that he has seen. Sometimes I can understand it and other times it all comes out as jumbled sounds-- as though when he heard it he couldn't quite make out what was actually being said. He was crying and getting anxious. Several hours later I am still not sure why he was so upset or if I was even able to ease his anxiety. All I know is that he is asleep. I sat with Joshua and watched him giggle and flap and then suddenly begin hitting himself in the head and crying as if I had just poked him in the eye or something. I was acutely aware of the fact that he is 4 and has yet to say his first word. It is becoming increasingly difficult to reach into his little world and invite him to be a part of mine. For whatever reason he kept pulling the lid off of his sippy cup and dumping his juice on the living room carpet.

Both are now tucked in bed and sound asleep. I got out the carpet cleaner and cleaned the living room rug and washed a load of towels. I tried to go to bed, but the guilt I feel for being heartbroken is keeping my tired body awake. So why does my heart ache so badly tonight? Why can't I tuck it nicely away like I do so often? Why can't I just pray about it and then say good night? I want to-- I really do, but my flesh keeps getting in the way.

It doesn't matter how hard I work or how many therapists we hire at Faces of
Hope. Matthew and Joshua will always have autism. Their struggle will continue
as long as they are here on this earth. None of us can escape it. And it hurts.

It hurts because as a mother I wonder what their futures will be like. What will happen to them if something happens to me? Will they ever be able to live independently? Do they understand that they are different? Does that bother them? What's it like to be genuinely terrified of a lawnmower or vacuum cleaner or the toilet? What's it like to be so afraid of the bathroom that you'd rather poop in your pants? What is it like to need so badly to be squeezed, to be under pillows and blankets, to need to look at things from the corner of your eyes? Do they know that I want with all of my heart to help them? Do they know that if I could take autism away from them to ease their struggle I would do it in an instant?

Tonight I even tried to back up and remember where we used to be. At one point tonight Matthew came into the kitchen, looked right into my eyes, and said "Mama." There was a time not so long ago that I didn't think that would ever happen. (Not unlike the feelings I have about Joshua right now.) Ordinarily I would have been overjoyed with the sound of his little voice and his recognition that I am in fact his momma. Tonight it was bittersweet-- and more bitter than sweet. I was suddenly acutely aware of our struggle. Instead of rejoicing in what he DID say, I was sad about the things that he couldn't say.

Recently I have been paying more attention to the adults in my life that are-- different. I wonder what makes them that way, I wonder if they know they are different. I find myself praying that Matthew and Joshua will be as capable as some of the adults that I once would have labeled as odd or delayed or just plain different.

There really isn't anything that anyone can say that will make any of this feel any better. That is yet another reason I don't often share it-- it seems to serve no purpose. Someone challenged me the other day-- told me not to be afraid to let parents and families at Faces of Hope see me be human... I suppose he is right. I'm NOT a super hero. There's no magic here. The ugly truth is that Matthew and Joshua have autism. It's not something that they can take a pill for and be cured. Regardless of the things that science may someday soon have to offer, they will always have autism. It is who they are.

As long as I am their mother-- as long as there is breath in me-- a part of me will be sad for them. Sad that they have to struggle, sad that I spend so much of my time helping them do the simplest and yet most frustrating things. I will never get used to seeing terror in their eyes when they are frightened or upset. And faith or no faith-- I believe being sad is ok. I think God expects that-- we are, afterall, human.

Here's the thing about all of that though.... The crying is ok-- it's what you do about it that makes all of the difference in the world. Tomorrow morning when I crawl out of bed it will be the beginning of a brand new day. The Creator of the universe will be waiting for me to praise Him in the morning. He will be eager and waiting to demonstrate to me that His grace and His grace alone is sufficient for me. And me? I will get up--- again-- and embrace the boys for all that they are and all that He created them to be. Then I'm going to pick up where I left off tonight with Faces of Hope. I'm going to do my best to be like the birds of the air or the flowers in the fields and enjoy the victories in each moment.

The tears are gone and my heart is peaceful. Best of all, I don't have the urge to run and get that superhero cape out of the dryer just yet. I think tonight I'm going to cut myself some slack and be human..... Afterall, tomorrow is a brand new day.................

RIGHT Chapter, WRONG Verse

2009-05-03T10:09:00.006-05:00

A few weeks ago I had the pleasure of meeting an incredible man. His name is Mr. Wilson and our first contact was a phone call he made to Faces of Hope about Parents' Night Out and his grandson. When we spoke, I invited him to come and see our facility. He told me he was unable to get out much because of his health so I offered to take FOH to him. Scrapbook in hand, my father and I made the quick trip to the Wilson home.

We arrived to find Mr. Wilson resting in his recliner. He had so many questions and so much insight. We had an immediate kinship with Mr. and Mrs. Wilson. Our visit quickly turned into a gathering of seemingly long time friends because we all had so much in common. Mr. Wilson is one of the most upbeat and positive individuals I've ever met-- and that amazes me even now. Mr. Wilson, you see, has brain cancer. He's been battling it for 8 years. 8 YEARS.

We began speaking about all of the things well-meaning Christians say to people in crisis-- the most common misquoted and misrepresented Scriptures... One of my personal favorites is "God never gives you more than you can handle." (That's SOOOO NOT Scriptural--- and WAY TO MUCH for this blog....) Mr. Wilson's favorite is Romans 8:28 "And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God...." I know I've heard this one more times than I can count-- it's one of those bandaid verses that people say because they want to say something positive, but they don't know what else to say.

"I tell them they're quoting the right chapter, but the wrong verse," Mr. Wilson said. "The real promise in that chapter is a couple of verses up in Romans 8:26."

"The Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express. And he who searches our hearts knows the mindof the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints in accordance with God's will."

"THAT'S what we ought to be sharing with people," he said. He recounted the hours and days immediately after he was diagnosed with brain cancer. "I couldn't pray-- I just didn't know what to pray for," Mr. Wilson said. "Then one night while I was lying awake in bed God reminded me of that verse. I knew that night that God wasn't going to heal my cancer-- not then anyway. He wanted to give me something else-- something more precious than healing. He wanted to give me peace."

That night Mr. Wilson cried out to God in anguish-- not even certain what to ask Him for. Was he supposed to ask for healing? Why was this happening? How could this "work together for good?" He just began to pray-- that God would grant him wisdom, that the Spirit would intercede on his behalf. Mr. Wilson says that he awoke the next morning with the most amazing peace and he's had it every day in the 8 years since. I have to tell you-- you might not be able to put your finger on it when you first meet--but that peace is evident and contagious.

Mr. Wilson originally called me for his grandson. As we spoke, he asked how he could help Faces of Hope. He wanted to know what we needed. In just one afternoon, he helped and encouraged me more than I can explain. He reiterated for me the mission of Faces of Hope- our calling to help these families. His testimony was balm to my soul as a mother. I've been chastised by some-- and told that maybe the reason my boys have autism is because I'd never asked for them to be healed. I believe in miracles, I believe God can and does heal. But I also believe that the bigger miracle isn't the removal of the things that cause us anguish--- it is in the gift of Peace only God can give as we walk this life in the face of adversity.

I am looking forward to many more visits with the Wilson family. Their faith renews and strengthens my own. Most importantly, as I continue to pray for these families and for the board and staff and volunteers at Faces of Hope, I am praying with renewed focus-- that the Spirit help us in our weakness-- and that when people come seeking assistance and answers-- they feel His unspeakable peace most of all.

Blessings-- and PEACE-- to you all!

Mr. and Mrs. Wilson began a ministry for individuals and families battling cancer. For more about their remarkable story and ministry, please visit their website at http://www.sewn-n-love.org/ .

"I am (humbled)"

2009-03-17T15:40:00.003-05:00

A dear friend shared a poem with me this morning and now I am sharing it with you. It is called "I Am the Child" and the author is unknown.

"I am the child who cannot talk. You often pity me, I see it in your eyes.
You wonder how much I am aware of. I see that as well. I am aware of
much ... whether you are happy or sad or fearful, patient or impatient,
full of love and desire, or if you are just doing your duty by me. I marvel
at your frustration, knowing mine to be far greater, for I cannot express
myself or my needs as you do.

"You cannot conceive my isolation, so complete it is at times. I do not gift
you with clever conversation, cute remarks to be laughed over and repeated.
I do not give you answers to your everyday questions, responses over my well
being, sharing my needs, or comments about the world about me. I do not give
you rewards as defined by the world's standards.. great strides in development
that you can credit yourself; I do not give you understanding as you know it.

"What I give you is so much more valuable... I give you instead opportunities.
Opportunities to discover the depth of your character, not mine; the depth of
your love, your commitment, your patience, your abilities; the opportunity to
explore your spirit more deeply than you imagined possible. I drive you
further than you would ever go on your own, working harder, seeking answers
to your many questions with no answers. I am the child who cannot talk.

"I am the child who cannot walk. The world seems to pass me by. You see the
longing in my eyes to get out of this chair, to run and play like other
children. There is much you take for granted. I want the toys on the shelf,
I need to go to the bathroom, oh I've dropped my fork again. I am dependant
on you in these ways. My gift to you is to make you more aware of your great
fortune, your healthy back and legs, your ability to do for yourself.
Sometimes people appear not to notice me; I always notice them. I feel not
so much envy as desire, desire to stand upright, to put one foot in front of
the other, to be independent. I give you awareness. I am the child who
cannot walk.

"I am the child who is mentally impaired. I don't learn easily, if you judge me
by the world's measuring stick, what I do know is infinite joy in simple
things. I am not burdened as you are with the strifes and conflicts of a more
complicated life. My gift to you is to grant you the freedom to enjoy things
as a child, to teach you how much your arms around me mean, to give you
love. I give you the gift of simplicity. I am the child who is mentally
impaired.

"I am the disabled child. I am your teacher. if you allow me, I will teach you
what is really important in life. I will give you and teach you unconditional
love. I gift you with my innocent trust, my dependency upon you.

"I teach you about how precious this life is and about not taking things for
granted. I teach you about forgetting your own needs and desires and dreams.
I teach you giving. Most of all I teach you hope and faith. I am the
disabled
child."

I am humbled--- and-- oh so blessed! Take time to embrace the special little people in your life!

My Only Hope.....

2008-12-28T13:26:00.000-06:00

It was President's Day, 2008. A snow day. The boys and I had been out in the little snow we had. Matthew wanted to play basketball. He needed to run around and use up some of his energy. My brother and his wife had gotten us a gift card to the activity center at our church. It was for a one-year membership to the facility. I decided we'd go give the place a try. We had been there before to use the little play area, but it was a little too cramped for Matthew's taste. I decided we'd go to use one of the basketball courts. With the basketball in the backseat, we embarked on our journey.

As is usually the case with autism, Matthew was a bit out of sorts because his routine had been disrupted with the snow day. When we arrived at the church he immediately began to panic-- it's a big place and on the Sundays we've tried to attend the number of people in the hallways overwhelmed him to the point of hysteria. I reassured him-- told him we were going to the gym to play basketball. He was cautiously excited. There was a line of folks checking in. I knew we were in trouble when the girl behind the counter insisted that Matthew wear a bracelet. I tried to explain that I'd be right with him, that I could even tape it on his back but my urgent explanation fell on deaf ears.

As we entered the gym, Matthew tore his bracelet off. With that trauma over, he realized we were in a gym on a basketball court. (There are several basketball courts-- there were two in use at the time.) He's never really played basketball before-- but he was trying. He threw the ball straight up in the air over his head and laughed and ran around the court. He was having the time of his life! Joshua was scrambling to get out of his stroller. He wanted to run around the gym. He had just recently decided that he could tolerate wearing shoes and enjoyed hearing his feet hit the floor. He was thrilled with the big, open space. For a minute, all was well. I was sweating from making sure they both stayed out of everyone's way and only on one court. I was trying to play with Matthew and keep an eye on Joshua at the same time. It was exhausting, but the giggles and laughter were well worth it. For a brief few minutes Matthew and Joshua were just little boys having a good time.

No sooner than I began to relax and enjoy the moment with them, a volunteer at the gym approached me. His first reproach was that I "needed to get a leash for the little one." "The gym is for playing basketball," he said, "Not for running back and forth like that." I quickly scooped up Joshua and began to try to plead my case. Before I could even get the words out, he began again. "Look, this isn't the children's area. If he's not going to play ball right then I'm going to have to ask you to leave." Joshua was squirming and crying. I could feel my own tears welling up in my eyes. I glanced over and noticed that the father and son that were practicing on the next court had stopped and were staring. I quickly told Matthew it was time for us to go and put Joshua in his stroller. I had to drag Matthew and his basketball out of the gym. He was crying. So was I. I was certain I couldn't get all of us back to the car and cry at the same time so we wandered around the new facility until we got the the library. Both boys love books-- I decided that maybe this was just the thing we needed-- a pleasant diversion from our expulsion from the gym.

Joshua was, of course, thrilled to have another open space to try out his new shoes. That there were books with lots of letters in the room was just an added bonus for him! Matthew, on the other hand, clutched his basketball and continued to cry. He was becoming more and more hysterical. I was trying to swallow my own shock and dismay to comfort him, but nothing seemed to be working. The lady in the library was kind. She asked what kind of books Matthew might like and tried to find some for him. When that didn't work, she asked if there was something else bothering him. "They both have autism" was all I could say.

She smiled and said "I know just the thing for you! I was reading an
article in the paper about this woman that lives in Gallatin. She's got two little boys with autism and is opening a center for families like yours. You should look her up-- I'm sure she can help you. I think it's called 'Faces of Hope.'" I quickly thanked her, gathered up the boys and our basketball and fled to our car. I was crying harder than Matthew. "Now what?" I cried. "Seroiusly? Am I really my only hope?!"

I was talking with my best friend last night. I asked her if she remembered that day. Before I could even get the words all the way out of my mouth, she said she did. Before our conversation was over, we were both laughing.If that poor woman in the library only knew.... I couldn't bear to tell her. How horrifying-- to be referred to yourself for help!

I wish I could say that I immediately went home and called the church. The truth is, I could not. I was too upset. I related the events to a few individuals at the church. They seemed genuinely upset and promised to say something to someone about it, but I never heard from them. I could have followed up myself. People that know me would be shocked to know that I never did. In all honesty, the events of that day just hurt too much. Even as I type this I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes again. Even still I'm smiling-- and thankful for the gift of friendship and laughter. I am thankful that God created us in such a way that we are able to step back and laugh at ourselves. I have not gone back to the church. I am not certain that I ever will. Should I call someone? Should I tell them what happened? Should I give it another chance? I don't know. What I do know is that all of us have our limits-- our breaking points-- and for me-- those few minutes in the gym were it. The sense of rejection and the lack of compassion that my precious family received from our own church was more than my heart can stand-- and still is today.

Last night when Sarah told me to write about this in this blog, I thought she was nuts. "It doesn't have a neat, happy ending," I said. "Who would want to read that?" "It makes you real, Leslie. It makes you real." REAL. Life in the Face house is real all right. The poop is real, the crying is real, the PECS velcroed all over the house are real. Our struggle to maintain some sense of normalcy in a society that doesn't understand autism is real. We're real...... No doubt about that.

This morning my devotion was from Psalm 46. "I am your Refuge and Strength, an ever-present Help in trouble......" And there it was-- my happy ending. I was wrong that day-- I'm not my only hope. (Thank God! And, no, it didn't take me until last night to figure that out-- I knew it that day. It just didn't make it hurt any less.) I am reminded once again that God knows me and loves me-- He accepts the boys and I with open arms. Though we grow tired, feel out of sorts, and are often overwhelmed by our battle with autism and our isolation from the world, NOTHING is hopeless with Him. ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. Hence Faces of Hope.

That's our mission at Faces of Hope. To "lend and restore hope" to children and families that are so often left feeling like there isn't any at all. To families just like mine-- to me. Yes, my children need speech, occupational, and autism therapy, but at the end of the day-- the only thing that really brings any comfort is the Hope that we have because of our Creator. HE's my "Only Hope." And Sarah? Thanks for helping me laugh at myself! Thanks for lending ME some of YOUR HOPE when I feel like I am lacking MINE.

The NO POOP Rule

2008-12-09T16:45:00.000-06:00

Nothing else in this house that POOPS as long as I am the only one here that cleans it up!" That's the rule. NO MORE POOP. Sounds simple enough, doesn't it?

Let me explain.... I love animals. From the time I was 12 until the time I was 18 I worked at an animal hospital. I grew up with fish and cats, friends and family that had dogs and birds... I love animals. Always have. When Matthew was born we owned two cats, Sam and Snickers, and two or three unnamed fish... My parents had two dogs, Abbey and Maggie. The little guy was surrounded by animals. He loved them. They loved him. So far so good.

Very early on in my journey as Matthew's mom, I knew that if I wanted Matthew to say anything it would have to be about an animal. He has this amazing ability to look at a picture of an animal and tell anyone what kind of animal it is. From the day he began to discover his voice he has been able to share curious bits of information about wildlife. As a matter of fact, "hibernaculum" was one of his very first words. (Ok, "bubbles" was first.) Animals seem to comfort Matthew. They don't seem to notice or even care that he has autism. They communicate just fine without the words that so often elude and frustrate Matthew.

Fast forward now.... If we were to take a roll call here in the Face house, it would include 3 birds (that's a long story), 2 cats, 3 fish, a dog, 2 precious little boys, and me. Well, that would have been the roll call a few weeks ago.... Shortly after we got the first bird I instituted the "NO POOP" rule... Since the adoption of Pickles and Amigo (birds 2 and 3) we were doing pretty well with the rule.....

Matthew had a really bad day at school. For those of you that don't know me or even understand what constitutes a "really bad day" let me suffice it to say that Matthew didn't even make it out of the car into the school for 2 weeks after that..... We had to make a trip to Vanderbilt to see his developmental pediatrician about his anxiety. I had promised Matthew a trip to the pet store if we could survive our appointment. Once at the pet store, the manager-- who knows us well-- came up to us to show us some little girl gerbils-- sisters, she said. Sisters that had been abandoned and that really needed a home. I shared the NO POOP rule with her and, after our brief visit, we left the pet store-- WITHOUT THE GERBILS, I might add. Matthew was hysterical.

The events that followed don't really matter. I had to turn the car around after the doctor called to see if Matthew had calmed down. "He needs a diversion," she said. We now own two little girl gerbils. Matthew named them Peanut and Sweetie. He's doing much better now though school is still a struggle for us in the morning and his anxiety is still often off the charts. A few nights after we welcomed these sweet little orphaned rodents into our home I found myself in tears-- asking God to forgive my stupidity and to rescue me from the poop that I had invited into my house. Then, in a way that only God can, He sent me a little "postcard."

I walked into Matthew's little playroom and saw him sitting next to the gerbils. He was talking to them in clear, perfect sentences. "It's ok, Peanut. It's ok, Sweetie. Don't be scared. Everything is going to be ok. It's ok." In that moment I was reminded that when Matthew is talking with and taking care of the animals-- he isn't at a disadvantage-- not at all. Quite the contrary. Matthew gives and receives compassion and understanding that I believe most of us miss because we talk too much..... Matthew was reminding me that though we have hit a bump (ok, a small hill) in the road, "everything is going to be ok."

So... Mother of the year I am not. Smarter than your average bear? Nope. Abider of rules-- even good ones? Not usually. Nope. If I were the pilot of this plane, I would tell you we have 13 souls on board. And, yes, I am the only one that cleans up the poop...... And you know what? I am thankful that God has chosen to bless my life with Matthew, Joshua and their friends Ellie, Sam, Snickers, Pretty Bird, Pickles, Amigo, Mr. Fish, Mr. Fish's Brother Mr. Fish, Peanut, and Sweetie.

Working the Puzzle

2008-10-09T00:08:00.000-05:00

There's nothing as sweet as Matthew's voice whispering "I love you, Mama" first thing in the morning. Even from my sleeping state, I could feel myself beginning to smile. Seconds later I felt his little fingers pulling my eyelids open. "Time to get up!" he said. And then it hit me-- the smell of POOP. "Ok," I thought. "He's up because his diaper is dirty." As I reached for him to see if he was wet or dirty I had this horrible sinking feeling.... That smell was familiar... It didn't smell like a poopy diaper-- it smelled like someone had been playing in poop! (Trust me, the smells are different...) Then I heard it over the baby monitor-- JOSH was moving around in his crib! I was wide awake-- and HORRIFIED! Only 2 days ago a similar episode unfolded only Joshua hadn't been confined to his crib..... I'll spare you the rest of the details and say that our morning began with Josh in the bathtub and all of his blankets, bedding, and stuffed animals in the wash.... NOT a good way to start the day!

It has been said that some days you work the puzzle and some days the puzzle works you. SO TRUE! I don't know about you, but I wanted to crawl under the covers and hide this morning! I'll be honest-- it's not just mornings like this that make me want to hide. This week was the 1 year anniversary of the incorporation of Faces of Hope-- ONE WHOLE YEAR! I did ALOT of reflecting about where we're going, where we are, and where we've come from as an organization and ministry. God has been good-- REALLY good in ways that most cannot imagine. Even still, the work is hard and sometimes downright scary! I have found it is so much easier to say you believe in prayer when you don't need to, if you know what I mean....

Last night-- feeling quite exhausted and overwhelmed, in the need of a place to hide-- I was reminded of good ole Elijah and his Juniper tree. Remember that story? Elijah gets threatened by a king and decides to run 20 miles into the desert to hide under a Juniper tree. There he sits and asks God to kill him. KILL HIM! And you know what God does? He makes sure he gets rest, food, and water and then He asks him, "Elijah, what are you do?" I am sure what God was saying to him was "Hey, uh, Elijah? Didn't I heal a young boy through you? Didn't I send you to the widow? Didn't I feed her through you? Haven't I shown you over and over again Who I am and who you are in Me?! What the heck are you doing out here under this tree?!"The story goes on for a bit, but it ends with God "passing by" in a "gentle breeze" making Himself known to Elijah. My point is that last night I wanted to go hide. "Lord, you don't understand... There was poop and, and it happened two more times today, and I lost my car keys, and my cell phone, and parents and families are in need, and I am working so hard to get Faces of Hope open, and I feel so alone...."

And you know what He said? Mind you He could have yelled at me, but instead I heard a little giggle on the baby monitor. When I got to their room, I found sweet smelling, clean little Joshua-- sound asleep and giggling. In the other bed was big brother Matthew also smiling and asleep. In that moment God reminded me that I am never alone, my needs-- and the needs of the children and families of Faces of Hope-- are never beyond His control.

So it's true. Some days you "work the puzzle" and some days the puzzle "works you." It's also true that on those days when we are getting "worked"-- if we sit back and rest in the Lord we don't have to run and hide under a tree. All we need know is that the Creator of the puzzle sees the big picture. He doesn't even need to look at the box to see what it's going to look like in the end! It doesn't matter if your puzzle is autism or finances or marital problems or personal illness-- no matter what-- He's all you need to get through!Keep praying for Faces of Hope. I am praying for all of you!Leslie

First Blog Entry... Welcome to Holland?! From September, 2008

2008-10-02T00:11:00.000-05:00

I have two beautiful little men in my life-- my precious little boys. Both of them have autism. The younger of the two was also born with a congenital heart defect that required open heart surgery when he was 10 weeks old. Some time after my firstborn was diagnosed with autism and my second born had his heart surgery, I became a single mom. Not to worry-- that's not the story-- just the background.....In my "free time" I am also the founder and executive director of Faces of Hope Children's Therapy Center. Faces of Hope is a not-for-profit that my father, a dear friend, and I formed to see that no child with autism or any other special need goes without therapy. Again, not to worry--- that's not the story either-- at least not tonight.

Since my littlest son's birth almost 4 years ago, I have been told time and time again that I should be writing things down-- that this journey is one that needs to be reflected upon and maybe even shared. I have always resisted the suggestion. I have just never understood why anyone would want to read a chapter of "a day in the life" when so often it leaves me so exhausted! How is that entertaining?!Then there's what to call the blog, where to set it up, who will be allowed to read it-- a truly intimidating list to someone uncertain they have anything of value to contribute to the world at large through a blog!

I suppose now would be a good time to explain the title....Early in this journey, there were many, many nights that I cried myself to sleep. To wait for 2 or 3 years to hear your child say ANYTHING-- let alone "Mommy," to be told that all of the things you thought were going to happen when you became a parent might not ever happen-- all very tough stuff. How do you put that into words? How do you explain to anyone your fear, your heartache, your loneliness? Then I heard it-- the story about a trip to Paris-- and what an incredible story it is...

As the story goes, imagine you and all of your friends get married around the same time. After a year or so you all decide to plan a trip to Paris. You learn everything there is to know-- the language, the money, the exchange rate. You know all about the seasons in Paris, the best sites to see. If you're really anal, you even imagine the pictures that you will take while you are there with your friends-- all of you enjoying the trip. After much anticipation, the day for your trip is scheduled. You can hardly wait! There are "bon voyage" parties and shopping sprees, lists to check and recheck, bags to pack. The day arrives and with a great deal of celebration-- and even some relief-- you and your friends board the plane. The weather seems perfect and the flight uneventful. The plane lands, the stewardess smiles at you and your spouse and tells you that the two of you have reached your destination. "What do you mean?" you say. "We're all going to Paris! Where are we? Why do we have to get off the plane? What about everybody else?" The stewardess smiles at you and you swear for just a moment you see sympathy in her eyes. "No, I'm afraid your itinery is different than everyone else's. This is your stop. Welcome to Holland!"

I'm sure you know where this is going.... "Holland?!" "Holland?" "But, but" and the list begins. You are alone, you are hurt, you are confused, afraid, and lost. You don't know anything at all about Holland. Isn't that the place that has windmills and tulips? No, no-- it can't be. There has to be a mistake. You don't want to be in Holland. You were planning for Paris!I won't finish. I am sure you get the point.

I don't know who first told that story, but I can tell you that there is no better description of the journey that I have been on as Matthew and Joshua's mom. There's the heartache, the loneliness, the fear, the sorrow. No, I don't want my friends in Paris to feel bad for me. I don't resent them or even envy them. Nope, I'll never get to see Paris. I had great plans, though, and dreams of all of the things I would see.No. We aren't in Paris. Definitely not. I'll even admit to at one time HATING Holland. I mean, does anybody even know where Holland is on the map? You know what I've discovered, though?

There are alot of really great things about Holland. No, no Eiffel Towers, no French wine, no great French food. But have you ever seen a windmill? Have you ever climbed to the top and enjoyed the view? Have you ever seen a sea of tulips of every size and color?! And, if you believe, as I do, that God created everything and when He was finished He said it was all "good," well, you have to know that God created Holland too.I'm not going to type this and pretend I've always enjoyed being in Holland. It is something I had to grieve and finally accept. And tonight, as I watch Josh flap and I listen to Matthew talk to his animals, I am thankful-- so truly thankful-- that God decided to share this very special place with me. Holland will NEVER be Paris. NEVER. It can NEVER be mistaken as Paris. But you know what? Paris will never have the view or all of the beautiful things that we've found here in Holland either. Holland is really a remarkable place.

I suppose this might be a strange way to start a blog. I'm still not even sure this is something I can do or will be any good at. Here's the thing I really wanted to share tonight... Earlier this week-- as is the case so many other weeks-- I had a number of people say to me at one time or another "I just don't know how you do it" or "I just don't think I could do it." I used to be so confused when people would say that-- is it a compliment, is it pity, do I look that hopeless-- all of those things ran through my mind. These days when people say things like that I smile and try to make them laugh. "Well, when I got up this morning I was still the only mom they had and wouldn't you know it-- they still have autism! Figured I'd better just get up and make them breakfast!" So, maybe it's a bit funny or even seemingly irreverent. Here's the thing--- it couldn't be more true.The day after my husband left, a dear friend of mine was talking to me, trying to ease my fears. "What am I going to do?" I asked. "Leslie," he said," tomorrow morning you are going to get up. And the day after that and the day after that and the day after that. Just keep getting up and let God do the rest."

I am proud to say that almost 3 years later I do just that. There's no secret, no magic, no heroic spirit. It's simple, really. I get up-- every single day-- and God does the rest. You know, I don't think it matters what country you're in, what unexpected turn of events you are facing-- if you want to live, if you want to truly experience all the joy that God wants to send your way-- all you can do is get up. Sure, you could try to change things, even abandon Holland and catch the quickest flight to Paris, but I'll bet once you got there all the things you thought would be perfect wouldn't. So why not just let go and enjoy Holland? Instead of thinking so much about how it's NOT PARIS, why not enjoy all of the things that God created that make Holland so special!I think that's enough for our very first chat. I probably said too much. Think I'd better get some blog tutoring or something! I've got to go-- I'm not sure, but I think Matthew just gave the goldfish his chocolate milk! God bless you where ever you are!Leslie