How to Love

Jun12

Our 32-year-old son, Chris, doesn’t want to be treated like a child. He no longer wants me to meet his needs when he’s hurting. His desires are perfectly normal. Since he lives with us, I observe hints of difficulties. And sense his internal turmoil.

On his good days, it’s easy to get clues he’s feeling fine. He might join me on errands. Or stop to chat with me while passing through the kitchen.

For so many years, that ability to discern his emotional or mental needs served us well. Now, he doesn’t reach out. I only detect clues he’s in need.

He comes and goes and I watch how he walks.

He seems slumped over. Is that just my imagination?

I catch a glimpse of his face, careful to look without him noticing.

He looks sad. Or is that just fatigue from working out at the gym?

As long as he remains somewhat active, I know he’s not isolating. That’s a good thing. When he conceals himself in his room, I’m left to wonder.

How do I stop being a mom? Is it possible to extinguish the impulses to ease a child’s pain? How do others keep from worrying?

When a young child is hurting and vulnerable, our sole priority is to help. A mother’s instinct is to nurture, protect, and comfort. We’re drawn to minister to needs. It’s as natural as breathing. Impossible to stop for any length of time.

So how does a mom love a mature son who has serious mental illness (MI)? Differently.

A ruler in the Bible shows us how we can love our adult son or daughter differently. Jairus was one of the synagogue leaders. His twelve-year-old daughter was dying. What did do?

Mark 4:22-24 tells us Jairus humbled himself and went to Jesus. Seeking help from the Great Physician. One who could heal his daughter.

Jesus agreed to go to his daughter. But then Christ stopped to heal another woman with a blood flow (Mark 5:25-34).

Can you imagine what Jairus must have felt? Surely, he was thinking: No, no, no…don’t stop now. There’s no time…my daughter is dying. PLEASE, Lord, come with me NOW! You can heal that woman later.

We can all relate to delays. Waiting in traffic is one thing. Waiting for God’s answer to our prayers is another thing. Especially when we’re praying for God to provide His peace and clarity of thought for our child with MI. That kind of waiting could lead to depression if we don’t hold onto our faith and keep our eyes fixed on Him. With our head buried deep in His Word.

Finally, Jesus healed the woman. But then the grateful woman had to tell Christ her “whole” story (Mark 5:33). Was Jairus feeling panicked? Surely, it didn’t help when others came spreading their fear. Informing him that “your daughter is dead” (Mark 5:35).

But, Christ calmed his fears.

“Overhearing what they said, Jesus told him, ‘Don’t be afraid; just believe’” (Mark 5:36).

Then Jesus raised up the girl (Mark 5:41-42).

What’s the message for us? When Christ delays, He’s still working. When fears bombard us, He’ll provide comfort. And remind us to keep believing and not waver in our faith.

When we don’t know what’s going on, we can trust in what we DO know. We do know God is still in control. He hears our prayers. He’s promised to comfort us. He’ll provide all we need.

Do you have an adult child with MI? In what ways do you show your love?

Casting Crowns’ song reminds us “TIS SO SWEET TO TRUST IN JESUS.”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-DdgkvnsHjM

I blew it.

Jun5

I’d reached my breaking point. I managed to keep my composure when Chris was in the psychiatric unit. And then held it together when he got treatment in the partial-care facility. He was on the road to recovery. But, my emotional stress built as he transitioned back into school.

Chris started going to some band rehearsals after school. When it came time for a performance, I was concerned.

Will he be able to handle the pressure? Will he act normally in front of everyone? Will his peers ask him why he wasn’t in school?

I sat in the auditorium waiting for the program to begin. Not relaxed, but uneasy. Days leading up to the performance, we had Chris practice what he’d say if curious students asked him why he wasn’t in school. He would simply reply, “I was sick and now I’m feeling better.”

Where is Chris now? What’s he doing back stage? I hope he doesn’t do or say anything to embarrass himself or his brother. I hope he remembers what to say if anyone asks him why he was absent.

My thoughts were interrupted by a parent I didn’t know well. She bluntly asked, “What did you think of Chris’s partial-care facility?”

How does she know where Chris was? Does everyone know? What a rude and insensitive question!

I mustered up the strength to respond. As casually as I could I answered, “How did you know Chris was receiving treatment in a partial-care facility?”

“A friend of mine had a daughter there when Chris was there?”

Great! Just perfect! I guess everyone knows our business. I suppose it’s impossible to keep Chris’s friends from finding out.

I responded without looking at her, “It was okay.”

Maybe she’ll get the message I don’t want to talk about it. Just leave!!!

I couldn’t believe I actually answered her intrusive question. Instead of politely telling her she shouldn’t have asked me.

People just don’t understand how upsetting it can be to have a loved one who is mentally ill.

It wasn’t possible for me to simply enjoy the band performance without someone reminding me Chris was recovering from his illness.

Several days later, Chris and I were in the car. He brought up the partial-care therapy. For the millionth time! Chris needed to process the experiences. I wanted to just forget it. Our needs collided that day.

“When I was in the partial-care unit, they didn’t care about the patients. It was horrible. The counselor was mean to me. We had to sit there all day and talk about drug abuse. Even though that wasn’t my problem.”

In sheer frustration, I lost my temper. I yelled, “I got it, Chris! I know it was a nightmare for you! I’m sorry you had to go there! I’m tired of hearing about it.”

The three months of stress had taken its toll on me. I spoke harshly to Chris. Afterwards, I felt tremendous guilt.

I’m such a failure. How could I speak to Chris so meanly? He’s still so vulnerable. But, I just can’t take it anymore.

I couldn’t allow myself to wallow in self-pity.

I need help. Maybe, I’m not the worst parent in the world. I’ll talk to Chris’s out-patient psychologist. He’ll give me his honest opinion on how I’ve handled our crisis.

The psychologist assured me, “You’ve been handling things amazingly well considering the circumstances. You’ve persevered for a long time. You need to take time out for yourself. Get some rest and relaxation. Find some time for entertainment for yourself.”

Soon after, God provided some needed encouragement.

Chris and I spent some time walking by a creek. As we strolled along, I reminisced.

“When I was younger, I used to sit for hours on a rock in a creek near our house. I marveled at God’s creation. When surrounded by God’s creation instead of the world (man-made thing and earthly troubles), I found peace. It was comforting to see God’s power and love demonstrated in His beautiful creation.”

We walked closer to the water.

“Look at that water before the boulders. See how calm it is. As long as it’s perfectly still, it can reflect the sunlight. Now look at the rippling water falling from the boulders. See how the light sparkles in that water? Listen to the soothing sound of that gurgling water. It’s so soothing.”

I went on to relate it to our lives.

“The creek is a picture of our lives. There are calm times, followed by turbulent times. During calm times, if we can remain perfectly still, we can reflect the Son’s love. Even during turbulent times, we can reflect His love. But, in a more vibrant way. God can be found in our difficulties. And glorified the most through our trials. See farther down the creek? The water is still again. Your life will be calmer again, too. God is helping you pass through this turbulent time.”

I’ll always cherish that day with Chris. The analogy I shared with him, reassured my heart as well.

Did you ever feel like you blew it?

Decades ago, Simon & Garfunkel sang “Bridge over Troubled Water.” Listen to the words to the song and imagine God singing them to you.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jjNgn4r6SOA

What is on your mind?

May29

My son once asked me, “Where do you live?” He hadn’t suddenly forgotten our address. The question could have been translated: “Do you live in the past, or do you live in the future?” It was Chris’s way of finding out what preoccupies my thoughts.

My answer: “Some people live in the past. Reliving memories of happier times. Others live in the future. Waiting for a dream to come true. I choose to live in the center of God’s will for my life.”

Chris’s inquiry got to the heart of emotional stability. Anxiety or peace. Dissatisfaction or contentment. Striving or resting.

A mother who has a child with serious mental illness (MI) might be tempted to live in the past. To reminisce of times when her child seemed care-free. Or, she may be taunted by thoughts of what the future holds for her child. Fearful that things could get worse.

Don’t get me wrong. I enjoy paging through the memory book of my mind. Flipping through mental images of Chris bowling with his brother, receiving his black belt in karate, or playing his trombone in Penn State’s marching Blue Band.

Another favorite mental pastime of mine is to push the time travel button in my mind. To mentally transport myself to the future with Chris. To stroll down the streets of future scenes. Take a peek at Desires Boulevard, Hopes Avenue, and Dreams Lane. Gather assurances that Chris will be okay.

But, I’ve learned that dwelling in the past or living solely for the future can lead to torment.

Philippians 4:8 tells us to concentrate on, “…whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.”

Why are we told to focus on those things? If we make it our goal to fill our thoughts with such things, will it make a difference?

Let’s try it. Reflect on examples of each category. Think about how those truths would apply to the struggles you face as a mom of a child with MI.

Contemplate what is true. We know for sure certain things about God. He is alive, in control, all powerful, and accessible. He showed His love by giving His only Son. He will heal, help, protect, and answer (for your good and for His kingdom, to bring about His perfect plan).

Consider what is noble. It is honorable to love unconditionally. God enables us to bless those who curse.

Think about what is right. It is good to keep forgiving without reservation. And to pray for our enemies.

Ponder what is lovely. God’s creation reminds us of His power. He’s still in control.

Examine what is pure. Christ’s perfection provides an example of pure actions. The Holy Spirit helps us achieve holy thoughts…of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, and gentleness.

Acknowledge what is admirable. Providing help and protection to the vulnerable is commendable. Doing it daily, sacrificially, and selflessly is a testimony of God’s faithfulness.

“May the God who gives endurance and encouragement give you the same attitude of mind toward each other that Christ Jesus had, so that with one mind and one voice you may glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.” Romans 15:5-6

Rest your thoughts on your Lord as you listen to Hillsong’s “There is None Like You.”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o_ofyu8vN9w

Intuition

May22

Did your motherly instinct ever contradict actions recommended by professionals? There are times to trust your gut. Our children with serious mental illness (MI) need protection. We’re their first line of defense.

Moses’ parents did what was necessary to protect their baby. “By faith Moses’ parents hid him for three months after he was born, because they saw he was no ordinary child, and they were not afraid of the king’s edict.” Hebrews 11:23

Years ago, I did what was necessary to protect Chris. There came I time when I had to stand up against professionals. Maybe the details of my story will sound familiar.

*******************

The day came for Chris to begin treatment in a partial-care facility. As I drove him there, I worried if the professionals would be caring. I tried to reassure myself everything would be okay.

How can I leave Chris with complete strangers? He just experienced being locked in a psychiatric unit in the hospital. The psychiatrist said he’s ready for the next step. But, I know Chris is still emotionally fragile. God will be with him there.

As we approached the facility, there was a sign directing us to a temporary trailer. The sign on the door read: “Partial-Care Temporary Treatment Facility: Due to fire, our main facility is being repaired.”

I dropped Chris off and went home. Household chores couldn’t keep my mind of Chris.

What’s he doing now? Is his day structured? Is he responding to the other patients? Is he interacting with them?

The day dragged on. Finally, it was time to pick him up. I studied Chris’s face as he approached the car. He walked slowly. Head down. No smile.

“How did it go, Chris?”

“I couldn’t stand it. I felt closed in. It reminded me of the hospital. I felt like a caged animal.”

“How was the social worker?”

“She spoke mean to me. She hates her job.”

Chris’s remarks about the social worker concerned me. Chris’s MI caused him to have a negative attitude. But, God provided discernment. My heavenly Father used my intuition to tell me Chris’s assessment was accurate.

The next day, I accompanied Chris into the facility to meet the social worker. We had a brief conversation. The most enlightening portion went like this:

“Have you worked here long?”

“Only a few years. Chris will soon have a new social worker here. I’ll be leaving soon. I’m pregnant. I’m looking for a different profession. I hate this job.”

Her comments confirmed my suspicions. Chris was right. Suddenly it was even harder to leave him. Knowing he’d be spending the day with someone who hates her job (and Chris?).

When I picked Chris up, he offered some news.

“I met with a psychiatrist.”

“How long was your meeting?”

“Only a few minutes.”

Chris seemed very agitated.

“I don’t want to go back to that place.”

Once again, God provided discernment. My intuition told me his reaction was based on a bad situation, rather than on his condition. His medication had started to help him return to the old Chris. I decided to let Chris stay home the next day (to take a break from the program).

The next day, I called the guidance counselor of Chris’s school. I wanted to inquire about homebound instruction. Little did I know, I was about to get lectured by that professional.

“I’m calling to discuss the details of Chris’s homebound instruction.”

“Mrs. Chandler, where’s Chris?”

“He’s home with me. I kept him home because the partial-care facility seemed like a detrimental place for him. The social worker admitted to me she hates her job.”

“It’s against the school district policy for Chris to be absent. You need to call our social worker.”

When I called the social worker, she yelled at me. She chastised me for making the decision to keep Chris home. In an angry tone she said, “Mrs. Chandler, you’re too over-involved.”

Too over-involved! With my own son?! Does she actually believe I’m simply allowing Chris to play hooky? Surely, she knows about Chris’s diagnosis. Lord, help me respond correctly.

“First of all, I’m the one in crisis and you’re the professional. I’d appreciate it if you’d speak to me with more compassion. Secondly, there’s NO WAY I could ever be over-involved with my son. He’s MY son. I’ll do what I feel is best for him. The social worker at the partial-care facility hates her job and was agitating Chris.”

Her reply: “Well, the psychiatrist at that facility determined that Chris is ready to go back to school.”

In shock I said, “That was based on a brief conversation with Chris, without reading Chris’s hospital records, or without speaking to me!”

“There are procedures to be followed, Mrs. Chandler. You can’t simply keep Chris home.”

“Well in lieu of anyone taking the lead, I’d be happy to take responsibility to arrange a meeting.”

The school social worker backed off and said, “The social worker at the partial-care facility is supposed to arrange a meeting. I’ll make sure it happens as soon as possible.”

I hung up the phone. Emotionally spent. But, grateful God helped me stand up to the professional who—shall we say—lacked bedside manners.

*******************

Sometimes God uses caring professionals to guide us through the mental health system. Other times, He alone provides the discernment and wisdom for us to know what’s best for our child. Either way, God equips us to do what He calls us to do.

Listen to “Lord, Reign in Me” as a reminder He’s alive and directing you.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iSdthxieYp4

Was there a time when your woman’s intuition directed you to stand strong against professionals on behalf of your child?

Tsunami

May1

Which is worse: dealing with unpredictable behaviors, or facing certain devastation? As bad as things seem, they could always be worse.

My heart goes out to moms who have kids with serious mental illness (MI). It’s not possible for me to reach out and hug each of you, so I share Bible verses of comfort.

This devotional is offered as a different form of comfort. I decided to relate a story about a mother who is facing a much greater trial than mine. Her struggles put mine into perspective. Maybe you’ll have a similar response. Or, you might read her story and realize that you’re living a worse nightmare. In that case, this story might take your mind of your situation momentarily. Regardless of your situation, I’m sure you can stand a dose of inspiration…to read about how another mom is able to find joy in the Lord. Even though she faces impending grief.

After church, I ran into a parent of two former students. Her older son, Andrew, recently graduated from high school. I knew he’d been suffering symptoms of a rare progressive neurological disease. Kim gave me an update.

“Andrew’s been diagnosed with a rare disease which is similar to childhood Alzheimer’s. David has also been diagnosed with it.”

That sentence hit me like a bullet.

Please Lord, no! This can’t be happening. Not to a family who loves You so much. Not to Andrew who has such a sweet personality. Not to David who’s only in ninth grade. How will David cope as he watches his future unfold—seeing the disease takes its toll on Andrew first.”

I stood there in shock, choking back tears. Speechless. Unable to move.

My mind swirled with questions.

How can a parent deal with the knowledge that her two sons will die young? It must feel like being strapped to a chair, watching a tsunami approach in slow motion. With nothing to do but think about the impending destruction. Dreams demolished. Emotions obliterated. Unbearable heartache.

Moses faced an impossible situation. An army of chariots quickly closed in. Millions of Israelites complained in fear. The Red Sea blocked an escape.

By faith Moses said, “Do not be afraid. Stand firm and you will see the deliverance the Lord will bring you today. The Egyptians you see today you will never see again. The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.” Exodus 14:13-14

Can Moses’ advice help us?

We fight MI. Others deal with the onslaught of an incurable disease, unfair accusations, or an unexpected betrayal. Many wage a battle within of doubt, uncertainty, loneliness, mental exhaustion, or discouragement.

Regardless of our circumstances, we can all find comfort in knowing the Lord will fight for us. Our challenge: to be still before God. And wait in confidence for His deliverance.

By the way, on that day when Kim provided the update, she asked me, “Would you be willing to tell what Andrew was like in second grade? We’re making a documentary for our website. We want to educate people about the disease.”

I agreed. The Lord helped me speak without crying. You can see that documentary on The Andrew Coppola Foundation website.

Are you able to get still before the Lord? How/where/when do you do that?

Maybe Hillsong’s ‘Still’ will help you draw near to Him in stillness:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=28ZZgD3Q9sQ

Need Support

Apr24

Do you feel like you’re ready to collapse? Like you need to be supported by flying buttresses to remain standing.

Life that includes a loved one with serious mental illness (MI) can knock you off your feet. You regain your balance and resume your walk through mundane tasks. Then, BAM! Some bazaar behavior or unexpected comment hits you. Once again, the wind is knocked out of you. Time of prayer restores the pep to your step.

Along comes another whack. This time, it’s a diagnosis (or MISdiagnosis) or a blunt recommendation made by a specialist (who seems to have no clue what you’re going through). Blindsiding you. Like you’ve been demolished by a Mack Truck. Making you an emotional wreck. As if your feelings got churned up a meat grinder.

Weary from it all, it gets harder and harder to stand on your own two feet. Does that describe your life?

How can we go on when life hits us from all directions? When we’re too worn out to even stand.

Last week, President Obama spoke about getting knocked down. On April 18, 2013 he gave a message at the interfaith memorial service in Boston. He said, “Like Bill Iffrig, 78 years old — the runner in the orange tank top who we all saw get knocked down by the blast — we may be momentarily knocked off our feet, but we’ll pick ourselves up. We’ll keep going. We will finish the race.”

Pick yourself up. Just keep going. Sounds easy enough. Not so!

Moms who have a child with MI may need support. We need human buttresses—people to come along side us. Loved ones who will keep us from crumbling under the pressure.

Years ago, I worked as a Bible instructor at a Christian camp for handicapped children. One adolescent camper, Bruce, was huge in stature. His large physique was exceeded only by his big smile. The joy of the Lord lit up his face.

His mental retardation didn’t prevent him from memorizing hymns—every verse and chorus. His beautiful voice drew you into his world…a world where intellectual abilities are irrelevant. A world where rejoicing reigns supreme. Anyone who joined Bruce in his world of praise experienced his heavenly serenity.

Yes, Bruce could sing. But, he couldn’t roller skate. He needed support to stay erect on skates. The first year, it took six strong camp counselors to hold him up. He crept along like a floating tree powered by human training wheels. Skating ever so slowly. Inch by inch.

The next year, he needed only five supporters. The third year, it took only four. Eventually, he was down to only one helper. Then, it came. That moment of victory. The helper let go. Bruce stood on his own!

That’s a picture of what God will do for you. He’ll send human buttresses. His people to support you. As many as you need. For as long as you need them. Until you can stand on your own.

Or, He alone will miraculously help you move forward. He promises you, “So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. For I am the Lord your God who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you.” Isaiah 41:10, 13

Sometimes, it’s in the power of Christ alone that we can stand. Let those words minister to you as you listen to “In Christ Alone.”

Agony

Apr16

Yesterday athletes’ agony became America’s agony. The bombs that blew up in Boston tore through flesh and emotions. Confusion gave way to fear and thoughts of terrorism. A marathon turned into mayhem.
All our hearts go out to the people in Boston. Those who lost loved ones. Those who were injured. Those whose dream of finishing the marathon was severed by an act of terrorism.

What’s your version of a mom’s agony? Having a child with mental illness (MI) missing, losing that child to suicide, suffering the anguish of innocent lives taken at the hands of your child with MI, or experiencing the daily challenges of the child living at home (disrupting the peace in the family, trying to stay calm so as not to trigger violence or break from reality)?

Rick Warren just experienced the horror of losing a child with MI to suicide. An unbearable tragedy. Inflicting unimaginable pain.

The parents of the Aurora Shooter suffered the anguish of innocent lives taken at the hands of their son. Who could withstand such public shame in the midst of that nightmare? A nightmare that doesn’t end.

A mother of a missing child battles relentless torment. Dealing with the daily struggle to fight back fears. Fears of what might be happening to her vulnerable son or daughter.

Anyone struggling with the daily challenges of MI in the home knows how it can wear you down…almost cause you to lose your own sanity.

Each person’s trial can be agonizing at times.

According to Merriam-Webster’s online dictionary, the definition of ‘agony’ is: intense pain of mind or body.

Does that describe your state of mind? Is your pain intense?

Is your mind troubled by thoughts of what’s happening to your child? Or do fears of what might happen plague you?

Regardless of the details of each mother’s trial, there are some similarities. Helplessness. Exhaustion. Strain on a marriage. Heartbreak for siblings who don’t get equal attention. Agony.

Christ experienced agony. He knew exactly what would happen to Him. He’d experience emotional torment from the soldiers’ mocking. The soldiers He’d die to save. He’d endure physical torture from the beating, forty lashes, and crucifixion. He’d suffer unfamiliar spiritual pain from the weight everyone’s sin.

As the day of His crucifixion approached, what did He do?

“Being in agony, He prayed more earnestly. Then His sweat became like great drops of blood falling down to the ground.” Luke 22:44 (NKJV)

God honored His earnest prayers and enabled Christ to carry out God’s plan. To willingly die for our sin.

“So Judas came to the garden, guiding a detachment of soldiers and some officials from the chief priests and the Pharisees. They were carrying torches, lanterns and weapons.
Jesus, knowing all that was going to happen to him, went out and asked them, ‘Who is it you want?’
‘Jesus of Nazareth,’ they replied.
‘I am he,’ Jesus said.” John 18:3-5 (NIV)

We can survive each day by depending on the Lord. For Him to provide hope, guidance, healing of minds and marriages…

When our pain becomes agony, we can follow Christ’s example and pray more earnestly. God will honor our prayers and enable us to carry out His plan for our lives. To willingly face another day in anticipation of His faithfulness. God is bigger than any problem we face or fear. Nothing is impossible to Him.

Let Hillson’s song ‘This is How We Overcome’ minister to your heart:

Wait for it…

Apr3

What are you waiting for?
That can be taken two ways:
1. What do you wish would happen?
2. Why aren’t you doing something? What are you WAITING for? Do something!

Sometimes I ask God the second way. I don’t like to wait for answers to my prayers. Does anyone?

When our son Chris was in college, I drove him home to see his brother march at a high school football game. On the way to the high school, the cars came to a complete stop. No cars were moving on the highway. It became evident we would not make it to the game on time.

In sheer frustration, I reported, “Well, we’re stuck in a traffic jam.”
He replied with glee, “My first traffic jam!”
That familiar inconvenience was a new and exciting adventure for Chris. All the sights and sounds fascinated him. He delighted in the sounds of sirens whirring past us. The people getting out of their cars and the people in the oncoming cars gawking at the scene intrigued him. So, I opened up my lunchbox and we enjoyed some leftover snacks. And prayed for the accident victims.

Okay, so it’s possible to enjoy waiting in a traffic jam. But, how can mothers of children with mental illness (MI) be happy about waiting for restored joy and peace? How long must we wait for our child to have clarity of thought?

What does God think about our impatience? As parents, we know how annoying it can be. When traveling, children often ask “Are we there yet?” When heard incessantly, it can feel like TORTURE.

Now imagine a trip that takes 40 years to arrive at the destination. That’s how long it took the people of Israel to reach the land God promised them. Imagine the parents hearing their children ask, “Are we there yet?”

Thankfully, God doesn’t get annoyed when we bombard Him with daily questions. “When will You restore my child’s sweet personality? When will You heal my marriage? When will my life be normal again?…”

When God delays his answer, we can react in our usual impatience. Or we can respond like Chris did in the traffic jam. It could become an adventure of looking for the mixed blessings and lessons we might learn along the way.

In our weariness, our heavenly Father coaches us with His pep talk from Psalm 27:14. “Wait on the Lord, be of good courage, and He shall strengthen your heart; wait, I say, on the Lord!”

Children are good at asking for what they want. In fact, they’re good at DEMANDING what they want. In spite of the same denial, a young child will ask to do something repeatedly. Finally, in desperation the child will plead, “Please. I’m begging you!” Sometimes the child will ask, “Why not? Why can’t I…?”
A parent doesn’t always want to give an answer. The answer may lead to an argument. So, the parent replies, “Because I said so.” Our no’s don’t mean we don’t love our child. Often it’s in our child’s best interest to say no. “No, you can’t stay up all night. No, you can’t have five cookies. No, you can’t date when you’re only 13.”

At times, we’re the same way. Waiting and hoping for something. Asking God again and again. Pleading with Him. “Please God. I’m begging You!”

Waiting is too hard. We ask, “Why not?” Inside we sulk. How can God’s “no” or “not yet” be in our best interest? Why would God have us wait to see our child’s mental stability restored? Why would He make us wait to see our child joyful once again? While seeking those answers, we might miss what He’s giving: comfort, strength, an eternal perspective…

Moms can’t be happy unless their kids are happy. How we desperately want our child with mental illness to be happy!

While hoping for the thing you most desire, hope also in God. Good self-talk would sound like, “Why are you cast down, O my soul? And why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God, for I shall yet praise Him for the help of His countenance.” (Psalm 42:5, Psalm 42:11, Psalm 43:5)

Mental reminders of His promises will restore peace while waiting. Tell yourself, “You will keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on You, because he trusts in You.” (Isaiah 26:3)

What are you waiting for?

Photo Shop

Mar20

Wouldn’t it be nice to photo shop your life? Tweak imperfections in relationships the way photographers tweak photographs?

Just for fun, imagine the possibilities.
Let’s delete shadows of painful memories. Click! Regrets of parenting mistakes gone.

Now, blur specific painful scenes. Click! Stories your child told of being bullied or ignored can no longer be seen in your mind’s eye.

Next, air brush ugliness away and smooth out edges. Click! Tension in the family dissolves.

Don’t forget to crop out unwanted emotions. Click! Anxiety and worry are gone from you and your child who has mental illness (MI).

Let’s try reducing the noise that clutters up a marriage. Click! Resentment is replaced with clear communication.

Finally, use the red eye tool to remove the tear-stained, sleep-deprived inflammation. Click! A false façade hides deep sorrow.

Sadly, it seems impossible to remove painful memories, erase regrets, smooth away tension, restore a marriage, sleep peacefully, and stop the tears.

We walk from peaceful days into the darkness. Why?

I discovered a wonderful symbolism of God’s ways when I tinkered with tools in Photo Shop.

My newest pastime is altering photographs. I’ve recently learned how to change the background of pictures.

I captured a nice picture of a macaw. The context of the cage pulled my attention away from the bird’s pretty colors. I wondered if I could improve the picture.

When I switched to a black background, the glorious colors exploded like fireworks in the night. I gasped in awe at the result. Once distractions were removed, the exquisite rainbow of colors became strikingly vibrant.

Has MI plunged you into darkness? The Designer of the universe knows how to focus your attention on Him. The darker the trial, the brighter His presence. Suddenly all that’s seen is His vibrant love.

The complicated context of our lives masks God’s presence. When our lives are uneventful, we rarely notice Him. So, God switches the background.

Walking in darkness conjures up images of someone stumbling. It stirs up ugly emotions: fright, uncertainty, loneliness…But, God ways aren’t like our ways. He knows when we walk in darkness, we look harder for Him.

In our darkest of times, God’s presence captivates our attention. His love comes alive. His comfort reaches out to us. His peace calms our heart.

Words in the Bible, once a multitude of verses, become God’s personal message to us. The Bible, previously our Daily Bread, becomes a true feast for the heart. Our lifeline. We witness His faithfulness and learn to depend on His promises.

My camera has a switch for automatic. But, I prefer using the manual switch. I like to be in control.

Have you got your life on manual? How’s it working for you? Try switching to automatic. Let God capture your heart. He’s perfecting His masterpiece. Your family portrait is framed in His perfect plans. Wait for them to be fully developed. What He’s begun, He’ll complete.

For now, we see only in part. Like this small glimpse of a snapshot.

God sees the big picture.

Ask God to give you His heavenly perspective.

Reflect on God’s Hand in your life as you listen to Chris Tomlin sing ‘Take My Life’
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V0Byp7aK2DA

I regret it.

Mar13

Did you ever say something that was taken the wrong way? Last Saturday, I unintentionally hurt someone I care about.

I managed to make a gifted artist feel discouraged by asking one simple question. Ryan Jackson is the illustrator for a new picture book I wrote. He studied under Chris Van Allsburg, the author and illustrator of award-winning children’s books such as The Polar Express, and Jumanji. So, it’s not surprising that Ryan’s illustrations are breathtakingly beautiful. When my husband first saw Ryan’s work, he literally was knocked off his feet. Howie had to lie down.

Ryan has almost completed all the pictures for our book. Howie and I met Ryan and our graphics designer for some last minute planning. At that meeting, I casually asked, “How hard would it be to change Beth’s hair color?” Since Beth is the central character, she’s in every scene.

That one impulsive inquiry caused Ryan to feel as though I wasn’t happy with his work. Which couldn’t be farther from the truth! The poor young father of three darling little girls has been working through the nights to meet our April deadline. Along I come with a comment which sounds like criticism.

In tears, I apologized.

Saturday must have been the day for accidental misunderstandings. Howie casually reminded our son that it was daylight saving time…time to move clocks ahead an hour. Chris mistook Howie’s reminder as a lack of respect. He was insulted and angry.

Ever since Chris became a teenager, he hated hearing advice from us. Now that he’s 32 yrs. old, he resents it even more. More than anything, Chris would love to own a home rather than live with us. While he saves money toward that goal, he endures living under our roof.

Is it possible to stop parenting? Maybe when a child turns 18, goes to college, enters the military, or gets married, it’s possible. Painful, but possible. Young parents know a day will come when their children will no longer need them. The days of nurturing and providing will end.

A friend once said, “Parenting is demanding. When children are toddlers, it’s physically demanding. During their elementary school years, it’s mentally demanding (helping with homework). Along come those turbulent teenage years and it’s emotionally demanding. Finally, when they become adults, it’s spiritually demanding (as you pray for their bigger needs).”

But, how can a mom stop parenting a child with serious mental illness (MI)? Affection, once happily received, is suddenly rejected. A teenager with MI recoils at a loving touch. Encouraging words once restored joy to a sad child. But, sadness has become depression and loving encouragement doesn’t soothe emotional pain.

We need to find different ways of showing our love. It’s not giving up parenting…it’s giving our parenting up to God. We seek Him in earnest. Our prayers become deeper and more heartfelt. We commit our child’s thoughts and emotions to God who is able to do exceedingly abundantly more than we ask.

The One who died so that we might be forgiven, is there to help us each day. Because He lives, we can face tomorrow.