Funny

Jul24

Can there be humor after hurt? Can laughter flow from a person with a broken heart? Or does trauma extinguish a sense of humor? Trauma like the movie massacre in Aurora, Colorado.

A year ago, we watched the horror on TV. Our hearts broke for the innocent victims. We knew those who lost loved ones would endure the worst possible grief—the loss of life snatched away through a senseless act of violence. The survivors would forever have gruesome images seared in their memories. Could they ever laugh again?

It’s still hard to imagine the horror those movie goers experienced. Have twelve months healed their hurt?

Inspirational stories are being told about how the victims are moving on with their lives. Most are recovering. But many still have to deal with physical injuries. And endure emotional scars. One girl said she’d never eat popcorn again.

Television aired reports of how friends, families, and survivors marked the anniversary of the carnage. I joined Americans as they reflected back.

Last year as I watched the news of the shooting in Colorado I struggled with flashbacks. It brought back memories of Chris threatening to kill me if I gave him medicine.

Hearts broke for the innocent victims. Mine included. I also felt for the shooter’s mom. I could identify with her—the mother of a son with serious mental illness (MI).

I subjected myself to hours of watching the disturbing news in hopes of hearing a compassionate word for the mother. But any references to the parents were spoken in judgmental tones.

“What kind of parents could raise such a monster?”

The daily dose of the news began to wear on me.

Vicki, you’ve got to stop watching the news.

Attending my Christian writer’s critique group would give me a break. Keep my mind off the nightmare that awakened my nightmare.

The shooting was on the minds and hearts of all the ladies in the group. As they described the events, emotions swirled in me. I suppressed them like holding back vomit. My flashbacks were sabotaging the serenity I sought.

Their comments switched to descriptions of the shooter.

“Such a depraved mind.”

“What a monster!”

“Evil. Pure evil.”

Suddenly, I burst into tears.

“I’m sorry. I’m having a hard time dealing with this. It’s brought back memories. I’m having flashbacks. It could have been my son. I know what it’s like to have a son with serious MI. There are MILLIONS of other moms raising children with MI. Who feel helpless and hopeless. They need to know they’re not alone. To know the hope, peace, and protection God can provide.”

In one voice the ladies came to my emotional rescue. Their compassion soothed me. They compelled me to write about it.

“You need to write an article for CBN.com.” (an online Christian newspaper). I sure didn’t embrace that idea.

Who would willingly open old wounds? Freely reflect on their worst painful memories? Soon realized I had a story to share. One of hope.

Writing the article proved to be a labor of love. The project involved reliving my own dark trial. Memories I tried to suppress.

A week later, I presented an article to CBN.com’s editor at the Greater Philadelphia Christian Writer’s Conference.

“In order to publish this article, Vicki, we’ll need a press release from your son.”

On the way home from the conference, I prayed.

Dear Father, if You’ve called me to share Your story of faithfulness and love to millions of other moms raising kids with MI, have Chris agree to sign a press release. Help him to be in a happy and agreeable mood when I get home.

When I arrived home, I found Chris in a good mood. I explained the article and the need for him to sign a press release.

“Sure, Mom. I’ll sign it.”

“First you better read the article, Chris.”

I dreaded asking him to read it. Any mom would do anything to spare her child undue sorrow. I didn’t want Chris to relive the experience, but he had to know what I wrote.

Chris read the article and still agreed.

“We might need it notarized, Chris.”

“Okay. I can go with you tonight. They might still be open. I’ll go change”

I went to my computer to print out the press release I’d drafted. Chris stood quietly at the door. In a casual tone of voice he said, “Mom, I didn’t threaten to kill you.”

I matched his casual tone and replied, “Yeah, Chris. You did.”

In a more serious tone Chris said, “I don’t remember saying that.”

In a more serious tone I replied, “Well Chris, you did.”

In a very pointed and direct manner Chris said, “I would NEVER do that.”

I knew the very thought of him threatening my life was too painful for Chris to bear. He couldn’t imagine doing such a thing because it was so unlike him—so unlike the sweet young man he was before MI struck. I believed he didn’t remember it. Mercifully, his MI hid such a horrible memory.

Now I needed him to understand that he threatened me. He had to know I wasn’t writing lies in the article. So, I had to tell him the details.

“Every time I tried to give you your medicine, you told me you’d kill me. You thought the medicine caused your mental instability. You held a screw driver inches from my face and threaten me.”

Looking at the floor Chris answered in a soft and sad tone. “I’m sorry, Mom.” Then he walked away.

Chris has to know I understood it was his MI.I knew he was ill. I forgave him.

I tried to call out and console him, but choked back tears. From his room he yelled, this time in a playful tone. “Okay, Mom…cry later. We gotta go.”

What an amazing man! Just after learning such horrible news about his behavior during a psychotic episode, he still kept his sense of humor.

Hurt and humor. An unlikely pair. When things are terribly sad and tears no longer help, sometimes humor refreshes a weary soul. Guess that’s why in Proverbs 17:22 we read, “A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones.”

Can’t summon a sense of humor? Borrow a smile from kids…Their voices in worship just might put a bounce back in your step.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WodvQf0Jo9s

Traumatic Stress

Jul17

Moms have a way of holding it together until a crisis is over. Then what happens? Read about what happened to me.

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

After Chris recovered from his first psychotic episode, he returned to school. First, he went for only a few hours. Then, he attended for most of the day. Finally, he managed staying the entire day.

Although things were back to normal, I felt unusually tired, cried easily, and overreacted to situations. My fragile emotions caught me by surprise when I least expected it. Like the time Rob called to ask for ride home from school.

“Mom, could you come and pick me up? Band rehearsal is over.”

“Sure, I’ll be there in a ten minutes.”

When I arrived at the high school, there was no sign of Rob. As I waited in the car, I observed a mob of teenagers at the end of the large parking lot. Just then, I noticed the principal and vice principal walking towards them. Soon after, the huge crowd dispersed. The administrator returned to the school building.

Something must be going down. Maybe a fight.

The arrival of two police cars interrupted my predictions.

Looks like I’m right. Those kids were up to no good. Where’s Rob? He needed a ride home. He said band practice had finished.

A horrible thought crossed my mind.

Was Rob a target of some sort of violence? Did those kids see him waiting for me and beat him up? With the way our lives have been going, I wouldn’t be surprised. Oh, Lord, please let that not be what happened.

I tried to comfort myself.

Calm down, Vicki, Maybe he’s just watching the whole thing.

Such a thought was no comfort.

If he’s doing that, I’ll kill him!

I drove to a pay phone to call home (since this was before smart phones and texting). To my shock, Rob answered the phone.

“Rob, didn’t you call and ask me to pick you up from school?”

“Oh, yeah. Dave’s parents offered to drive me home. Sorry.”

What a typical teen! He acted in the moment. Rob was home safe and sound while I was mentally living my own worst-case scenario.

My emotions swirled inside. Now that I knew Rob was safe, I felt relieved.

Now I can fall apart. Have a good cry—

My thoughts were interrupted by the car in my rearview mirror. I hadn’t yet driven off the school grounds and one of the police cars was behind me. So I focused on my speed. Driving fifteen miles an hour isn’t easy!

Making a right onto the road, I noticed the speed limit sign. Deep concentration was in order. No time to fall apart or let my mind wander.

Keep it at 25 miles an hour, Vicki. Did the cop turn right? Yes. Better make sure I signal to turn left at the next light. Don’t forget to turn on your turn signal. Check your speed. Don’t start to cry. Hold it together.

After I turned left onto the next road, I noticed the police offer did the same. There were two lanes going in my direction, so I slowed down. Making it easy for the cop to pass me. He didn’t. He stuck behind me past three more traffic lights. Even when I turned right, he followed my route.

He must be following me. Why’s he following me? I really don’t need this. I don’t know if I can hold it together much longer—

My thoughts were interrupted again. His lights signaled me to pull over.

Perfect, just perfect!! I’ve never been pulled over before. I don’t even know how this works. I guess I need to get out my license, registration. Do I need my insurance? Better get that too, just in case.

By the time I collected all the documents, he still hadn’t approached my car.

What’s he doing? What’s going on? He followed me all the way from the high school. Did he think I was somehow involved in the fight? Is he waiting for more back-up? Oh, how embarrassing! What did I do wrong? I’ll tell him the truth: my son was missing and I thought he was being beat up. The officer would believe me because he saw me drive away from the school.

After what seemed like an eternity, he still didn’t walk towards me.

Maybe I’m supposed to get out and go to him.

Finally, the officer appeared at my window.

“Hi ma’am. How are you doing?” he asked in a very pointed manner.

“Fine officer,” I lied.

“The date on your registration sticker has expired. You should have gotten a new one four months ago. This is just a reminder. You need to get that taken care of as soon as possible.”

With all that had been going on in our lives, it’s no wonder why we hadn’t attended to that detail. Even though the officer didn’t ask me any questions, I felt the need to spill my emotional story.

“I thought my son was missing.”

“Do you know where he is?”

“Yes. He’s home.”

“I’ve met your son.”

His comment thrust my mind back into worst-case-scenario mode.

Why would our local officer know Rob? What did he do?

I continued with my calm façade and casually asked, “Oh? How do you know my son?”

“I was there that night.”

THAT night.’ He met Chris the night Chris assaulted Howie and me? That’s the night the police took him to the hospital in handcuffs. The night Chris was admitted into the psychiatric unit of our hospital.

The emotions of ‘that night’ hit me like a tidal wave. Transporting me back to Chris’s behavior. Scenes I had suppressed in my mind flashed like lightning bolts in my head. Chris’s distorted thinking. His accusations that we assaulted him. I feared the police believed Chris’s words. Before I could speak, the officer expressed compassion.

“How’s your son doing?”

“He’s doing fine. Much better. It’s a shame you saw him like that because that’s not at all like he is.”

“We knew that he was dealing with mental issues. Actually he was pretty funny that night.”

‘Pretty funny’ wouldn’t be how I’d describe Chris that night.

“Thank you, officer,” I said politely as a way of saying I’m done with this conversation.

As I drove home, scenes of that afternoon replayed in my head: the mob of kids, being pulled over, the officer knowing ‘my son’, the officer being there ‘that night.’ I realized when the officer asked me how I was doing he knew what our family had experienced. He cared.

God used a man who upholds the law to show me compassion. It took me a while to realize that. The traumatic stress of my life blocked the verbal hug God sent my way.

Kind of like Joshua. The looming stress of the upcoming battle of Jericho prevented him from recognizing his Lord.

“Now when Joshua was near Jericho, he looked up and saw a man standing in front of him with a drawn sword in his hand. Joshua went up to him and asked, ‘Are you for us or for our enemies?’” Joshua 5:13

“‘Neither,’ he replied, ‘but as commander of the army of the Lord I have now come.’ Then Joshua fell facedown to the ground in reverence, and asked him, ‘What message does my Lord have for his servant?’” Joshua 5:14

Ask God to help you recognize His love for you and to hear the message He has for you today.

May this song, “Open the Eyes of My Heart Lord”, be our prayer:

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

Awesome!

Jul10

Ever watch someone take the last piece of cake? Just before you get there.

Hey, no fair! That was MY piece.

A childish reaction, right?

If you’re like me, maybe that’s what life feels like for you lately. Someone else just took your piece of the contentment pie.

You watch other people skipping through life while you tip toe around mental illness (MI). You notice others going about their day smiling. Seemingly carefree.

When will I get a chance to have fun? Or just get a break. Not a vacation—just a break. A few happy moments. Some relaxing time without having to handle emotions. Some time for refreshment away from witnessing turmoil.

Many moms who have a child with serious MI can’t get away. The child with MI can’t be left unsupervised. Or maybe it’s a teen with MI. So getting a babysitter would not be an option. Perhaps it’s a grown child with an intellectual disability who also has MI. Not many would be qualified to relieve a parent and stay with such a needy individual. To handle such complex needs.

Is it possible to find small pleasures without getting away? Has life destroyed your ability to enjoy small pleasures?

We can learn a lot from toddlers. They embrace everything with glee. Our granddaughter loved the tiny white lights in our garland. As if gazing on sparkling diamonds, she responded with an up-down sing-song, “Oo-oo!” She took each of her stuffed animals to show them. One at a time: “Oo-oo!”

Awesome pleasures can be found in unexpected places. When we least expect it. Like on a muggy summer night.

An oppressive heat wave has stalled over our region. Complete with high temperatures and unbearable humidity. Each afternoon the air is so saturated with moisture that we get a brief thunderstorm.

Last night God treated us to a simple pleasure using those uncomfortable elements. Here’s how He orchestrated it.

Wind whipping the trees outside announced the surprise. Howie and I went outside to watch. The rain hadn’t started. We could smell it in the air. They sky looked ominous. Billowy grey clouds swirled above. Our giant evergreens swayed and danced. The menacing clouds crept closer. Howie and I bathed in the cool breeze. Such an unexpected reprieve from the heat! Ahhh.

Then the raindrops came. Plunk. Plunk. Plick. Plick. Plunk. We enjoyed the staccato music of the approaching storm. Finally the drizzle turned to a torrential downpour. Time to go inside.

“That was nice,” Howie remarked. In the same tone he’s used after watching a heartwarming movie.

We enjoyed the unexpected concert. Compliments of God.

Heavenly Father,

Thank You for sending small pleasures my way. Help me notice them. How awesome are the sights, sounds, and smells of Your surprises.

Phil Wickham wrote of God’s stormy orchestra in “Cannons”

h ttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r_GNVWAo1pY

Where to Find God

Jul3

Kids love Hide and Seek and a good Easter egg hunt. Finding things brings such delight!

Think you’re too old to play Hide and Seek? If you’re like me, you seek God during dark trials. Finding Him would bring you such delight—and peace.

How can God be found? July 4^th will give us a reminder. What’s the secret to spotting fireworks? Simple. Look up. In the darkness you’ll find beautiful lights.

Sounds easy. Not so easy when we’re trying to find God in our struggles.

Where are You God? Are You still there? My child’s in torment. How can I help him see Your hand in his life when I can’t find you?

It’s hard to trust Him when we can’t track Him.

CAN God be found? Does He want us to find Him? Yes.

Psalm 14:2 tells us, “The Lord looks down from heaven on all mankind to see if there are any who understand, any who seek God.”

In Hebrews 11:6 we read His promise that, “Anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him.”

Deuteronomy 4:29 even tells us how to seek Him.

“But if from there you seek the Lord your God, you will find him if you seek him with all your heart and with all your soul.”

Psalm 63:1 gives us an example.

“You, God, are my God, earnestly I seek you; I thirst for you, my whole being longs for you, in a dry and parched land where there is no water.”

1 Chronicles 22:19 tells us, “Now devote your heart and soul to seeking the Lord your God.”

In Matthew 4:12-16 we read about the fulfillment of God’s promise. That Light will come into the world. God sent His Son to provide light in darkness.

“The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned.” Isaiah 9:2

His light is much more than a beautiful burst of colors that brightens the sky and quickly disappears. His light illuminates our heart with lasting and perfect peace.

“…because of the tender mercy of our God, by which the rising sun will come to us from heaven to shine on those living in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the path of peace.” Luke 1:78-79

Where is His light? Remember what you do when you enjoy fireworks: look up. He’s hiding in plain sight.

He can even reveal Himself to your child who has mental illness (MI). Read how he did it for our son:

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

God revealed His presence and protection to me when Chris was out of touch from reality. I experienced His faithfulness when Chris was in the psychiatric unit. I felt His peace when Chris went to the partial-care unit. Chris, however, still couldn’t see how much healing had taken place because he was busy making up schoolwork. His torment pierced my heart.

“God doesn’t love me. Why did He let my life get so shattered?”

I had no response. Only a plea for God.

Father, please help Chris know You still love him. Reveal Yourself to him.

Soon after, God answered my simple prayer in two powerful ways.

Chris gradually weaned back to school. Starting first with only one or two days a week. Building up to a full week. He even started going to musical practices. This was a risky move because it involved a great deal of stress. Students had to audition to be in the jazz band at Chris’s school. The director selected professional-level music. During Chris’s recovery, he hadn’t practiced his trombone. Was he ready? Could he handle the pressure?

One day, the band traveled to a nursing home for a performance. One of the other trombone players, Adam, didn’t show up. So, the director asked Chris to play his part (without any preparation or notice!)

As they were walking up to the stage, he turned to Chris and said, “I need you to play Adam’s part.”

Chris proceeded to sight read the other part perfectly! He even spontaneously created an improvisation solo that would fit the background music. Chris’s fellow musicians were stunned to witness what Chris was able to do. They didn’t’ know the half of it. They didn’t realize he was recovering from an illness that affected his mind.

God revealed His love and faithfulness to Chris when he took several tests. Anyone would be stressed at the thought of taking a pre-calculus test. Chris had to make up SEVERAL in just ten days. On one of the make-up tests, there was a problem none of the other students got correct. But Chris got it correct!

Chris finished that school year on time with all his work made up, earning nothing lower than a B on his report card. A report card which included several college level AP courses.

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

Yes, God can reveal His love and faithfulness even to our children who have MI.

Hillsong’s God is Able

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4CJfdfNWjRw

Escape

Jun26

Joseph Ambler Inn
Horsham, PA

Irrational thoughts set in after I survived seven hours of labor.

I’m done. That’s it. I’m going home.

That wasn’t an option since our son hadn’t been born yet. Still, my brain conjured up the possibility of a literal out-of-body experience.

Amazing how suffering can play with your mind. Especially when the struggles have been hard to endure. For too long. Like dealing with your child’s mental illness (MI).

Are you done? Do you fantasize about packing it in…running away from it all? Perhaps you dream of getting away. To rest under a palm tree in Hawaii and listen to the soothing sounds of the ocean as they wash all your cares away.

The Israelites understood suffering. So, God gave Moses a message for them.

“‘I will take you as my own people, and I will be your God. Then you will know that I am the Lord your God, who brought you out from under the yoke of the Egyptians. And I will bring you to the land I swore with uplifted hand to give to Abraham, to Isaac and to Jacob. I will give it to you as a possession. I am the Lord.’” Exodus 6:7-8

God kept His promise.

“God heard their groaning and he remembered his covenant with Abraham, with Isaac and with Jacob.” Exodus 2:24

“The Lord said, ‘I have indeed seen the misery of my people in Egypt. I have heard them crying out because of their slave drivers, and I am concerned about their suffering. So I have come down to rescue them from the hand of the Egyptians and to bring them up out of that land into a good and spacious land, a land flowing with milk and honey…’” Exodus 3:7-8

That same God hears your groaning and sees your misery. He’s concerned about your suffering. He has a promised land for you.

God gave me a taste of that milk and honey. My earthly promised land was the healing of my marriage. Howie and I just celebrated our 35^th wedding anniversary at Joseph Ambler Inn bed and breakfast. Years ago, I never would have thought it possible. I was ready to pack it in. Couldn’t stand any more pain. Didn’t know how to forgive unconditionally.

But God, who made a way for us to reach the ultimate Promised Land in heaven, made a way for me to trust again. He restored our marriage, making it stronger than ever. We went to a bed and breakfast to mark the milestone and share our gratitude.

Maybe you’re still waiting to arrive at your promised land. Thankfully, we can trust in our good Shepherd to lead us to a peaceful place and refresh our soul. He “makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he refreshes my soul… (and) anoints my head with oil…” Psalm 23:1-3, 5

Imagine that…God inviting us to spend time in His oasis and get treated in His spa! A free getaway made possible by simply entering into His presence.

Dear Father,

Thank You that You hear my groaning, see my misery, and care about my suffering. Help me find time to read Your Word. To find encouragement and hear You speak to me. So that I can persevere. In Jesus’ name. Amen

During the days of trouble in our marriage, Steve & Annie Chapman’s songs helped me cling to the hope of restoration. Here’s one of them: “Turn Your Heart Toward Home”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rNvafd0FzGc

The Worst

Jun19

The first time my parents left their teenage daughter home overnight they knew I could handle everything. Everything?

I’m sure they didn’t expect their check-in phone conversation to sound like this:

“How are things going, Vicki?”

“Oh fine. By the way, Aunt Betty and Uncle Ken and their kids are visiting. They dropped by two days ago.”

“Where are they staying?”

“In the driveway. In their camper.”

“Where are they eating?”
“Here. I’m making them meals. By the way, we had a small kitchen fire.”

“What! Are you okay?”

“Sure. I put it out before there was any more damage.”

“There’s damage?”

“Only black smoke all over the walls. Nothing a fresh coat of paint won’t fix. So, how are you and Dad?…Mom, are you still there?”

As bad as that news sounded to my mother, it could have been a lot worse. The unexpected guests weren’t robbers. The house didn’t burn down.

Gotta love a teenager’s reaction to the world. Ignorance can truly be bliss. Back then, it was so much easier to face the world calmly. With an invincible spirit.

Hey life, give me your best shot. I can handle anything. No big deal.

Through the years, I’ve learned otherwise. I can’t handle everything. Some trials ARE a big deal. Like mental illness (MI).

Oh to have that teenage calm and casual outlook on life. Nowadays, I can’t summon a serene spirit to saturate my responses. I know how horribly wrong things can turn out.

Thankfully, I have access to God’s perfect peace. The trick is keeping my focus right when things are bad. Trusting Him instead of considering all the possible outcomes.

When MI hits home, sometimes bad goes to worse. At those times, I tell myself “It could be worse.”

James Stevenson wrote a delightful story for children teaching them things can always be worse. In “Could Be Worse!”, a laid-back grandfather seems unimpressed or concerned at his grandchildren’s reported problems. Each complaint receives the same unemotional, “Could be worse.”

One morning, the grandfather tells them a story of unbelievable events that happened to him—all in one night. One extreme calamity after another. At the end of his tale he asks them, “Now what do you think of that?”

Their response: “Could be worse!”

Lesson learned. He transformed their thinking.

God can transform our thinking, if we allow Him.

When the weight of this MI marathon gets too heavy, I start the list of worsts. God takes over and floods my head with reminders of blessings.

Here’s how it goes.

It could be worse. Chris could be missing. We could be homeless, wondering where our next meal will come and what’s happening to our son. We could be living in a war-torn country. Chris could be filled with rage. He could be dead.

Chris is home with us and safe. He has goals (to pay off his debts, etc.), gets exercise, and interacts with people at his church on Sundays.

Maybe you’re living my worst. Most likely, you’re not living THE worst unless you’re enduring MI without God’s presence. His presence can comfort in the midst of the worst trial.

Chris Tomlin reminds us of our need for Him in his song, “Lord I Need You”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_rR_Rdb1CTE

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?