Monday, July 29, 2013

Lessons From My Garden-The Other Side of Darkness



Darkness.

I’ve experienced it. You have too. 

Maybe you’re there right now, a time in life when everything safe, secure and comfortable has been uprooted. 

Turned upside down. 

Night may have descended in the middle of a bright sunny day with a phone call, a diagnosis, a betrayal, a loss, a failure. 

In an instant, you are overshadowed by gloom and despair and not one glimmer of light flickers to guide you to a solution. 

You feel trapped in a dark place with no way out. Abandoned. Alone. Afraid.

What are we to do in the darkness, through the long night of struggle and heartache?

I’ve noticed several amazing plants in my garden that illustrate the answer to this question in different ways:

PRAY
The Cassia tree, abundant in clusters of symmetrical leaves, is covered with bright yellow flowers in Autumn. A small shrub-like tree, it grows twelve to fifteen feet tall. 

Sulpher butterflies, the large yellow-winged variety, are attracted to the Cassia and will rest on its branches even when it isn’t flowering.

An amazing characteristic of the Cassia is how it folds its leaves together at dusk, as if putting little hands together for bedtime prayers.

The Cassia “prays” all night and when the sun rises in the morning the leaves open to another day of butterfly welcoming.

A life without prayer is a life without light. What better time to pray than when we can’t see where we’re going?

The lyric to an old hymn put it this way:
Have we trials and temptations?
Is there trouble anywhere?
We should never be discouraged
Take it to the Lord in prayer.
Can we find a friend so faithful,
Who will all our sorrows share?
Jesus knows our every weakness
;
Take it to the Lord in prayer.

PRAISE
The Four O’clock plant has small trumpet-like flowers that remain closed during the day. 

When evening comes they open, displaying a mass of color across the top of their waxy stems and releasing a mild, sweet fragrance into the night. 

As we sit on the patio in the evening the delightful scent is carried to us on the breeze. This flower puts on its greatest display in the darkness. 

The Four O’clock is not concerned about the setting sun. It was made to rejoice in the night.

Paul and Silas, in the darkness of a dreary prison cell (Acts 16), praised God in the middle of the night, the fragrance of their worship carried on the wind of the Holy Spirit to God’s throne.

Their praise brought the answer to their problem and set them free.

PATIENCE
The Poinsettia plant is famous for its beautiful red Christmas blooms. 

The blooms are actually the plant’s green leaves which slowly transform into a brilliant red color as the daylight hours shorten and nights grow longer.

Poinsettias need the long dark nights of autumn and early winter, to convert leaves from green to red. The process takes about six to eight weeks but the plant can only produce the bright red color we all enjoy, in darkness.

The night seasons of life are mostly unwelcome, but they create something beneficial in us and for others, if we let them. 

James 1:3-4, shows us that these troubles test our faith and produce patience. Once patience has done its work, we will be complete and have everything we need for a God-filled life.

Some of the greatest transformative experiences occur in the night seasons of life. 

My plants never fuss in the darkness but yield to its process. When the sun rises in the morning, they are glorious to behold.

Keep praying and praising and be patient.

You’ll be surprised by the beauty found on the other side of darkness, when the light shines again.

Job 23: 8 Behold, I go forward, but he [God] is not there, and backward, but I do not perceive him; on the left hand when he is working, I do not behold him; he turns to the right hand, but I do not see him. But he knows the way that I take; when he has tried me, I will come out as gold.

Psalm 18: 6 But in my distress I cried out to the LORD; yes, I prayed to my God for help. He heard me from his sanctuary; my cry reached his ears.

Psalm 120:1 In my distress I cried to the Lord, and He heard me.

Isaiah 50:10 Who walks in darkness and has no light? Let him trust in the name of the Lord and rely upon his God.

Saturday, July 27, 2013

Lifetime Love Affair



I grew up in a home with no TV. 

And yes, there were cars back then, for those of you who are now wondering how old I am. 

There were even TVs back then, we just didn’t have one. 

Every Friday my dad would grocery shop after work and take me to the library on his way to the store. I’d search row after row of shelves for books that I hadn’t read yet, check out the maximum amount allowed (ten, I think) and read them before the following Friday. 

This scenario would repeat weekly.

While my friends were rushing home from school to watch cartoons; Popeye, Looney Tunes, The Three Stooges and the Little Rascals, I went home to read. 

And I couldn’t wait.                                  

Words threaded together, creating pictures, people and stories have intrigued me as far back as I can remember. As I read descriptions of places and personalities, I would imagine them in my mind. I could see it all, the backdrops, settings and what each person looked like.

I’ve been disappointed more than once by a movie based on a book because what was on the screen looked like nothing I had created inside my head.

Many a night, when I should have been asleep, I was under the blankets with a flashlight and a book I couldn’t put down. 

There was nothing worse than leaving a good story right in the middle, to go to school, take out the trash, help Dad in the yard or Mom in the kitchen and be left wondering the entire time, what was going to happen next. 

By the time I was in middle school I had a fondness for horse stories; Misty, Black Beauty and My Friend Flicka, to name just a few. 

In high school I was reading classics; Robinson Crusoe, Swiss Family Robinson, Moby Dick, Call of the Wild, Pilgrims Progress, Gone With the Wind, The Chronicles of Narnia and the works of Charles Dickens and Mark Twain.

I’ve had a lifetime love affair with books and reading was and still is one of my favorite getaways, a form of relaxation and fun. 

It’s hard to be a decent writer without reading. Because I enjoyed reading so much, I also developed a fondness for writing. 

Putting my thoughts into words forces my mind to be deliberate about my own opinions, viewpoints and desires. Seeing my heart written out in black and white give me reason to be both intentional and reasonable in how I think about life and the myriad of emotion and events swirling around me. 

Writing keeps me centered and is my therapy. 

I’m currently taking a writer’s course and am being told that reading has changed in America.

Technology and finger tip access to information, texting, social web pages and constant entertainment has moved our attention span meter next to zero. The latest generation now reads and writes in small bites (or should it be bytes), if at all. 

“LOL!” (laughing out loud, for the few who may not know)

“OMW “ (on my way)

“Where R U?”

I’ve been informed that people don’t read anymore, they scan, scrolling thru web pages on mobile devices faster than film frames roll in an animated movie. 

Writers are being told to create shorter sentences that are “tight” and have punch, be more attentive to white space in relation to words on a page and hook people with interest and excitement in the first paragraph to instantly catch and keep their attention.

While these are good writing techniques to follow, I admit to being disappointed for the reason they are being suggested.

Maybe I’m old-school; after all I grew up without a TV… 

But...instead of dumbing down our writing, how about we teach kids to read again. Really read. 

Gather our children around us on the sofa. Turn off the TV, smart phone and tablet and read a book out loud. Together. 

Find time during the day; at breakfast before school, after dinner or at bedtime, whatever works for the family schedule, to read.

Start when the kids are little. Let them fall in love with books.

Statistics show that children who are read to and who read do better in school and become lifelong learners. 

And if that isn’t enough motivation, some of those readers could become famous authors, publishing book after made-for-movie book, creating sufficient wealth to take care of you into your old age.

So read, read, read!

P.S. I hope you didn't just scan this post but actually read it.

Thursday, July 25, 2013

If I'm So Special Why Don't I feel Like It?




I’ve heard the word ‘special’ directed toward me as a mother for many years, since our first child was born with Down syndrome then later developed autism. 

"God gives these special kids to special people like you because He's knows you can handle it.”
When you ask expectant parents whether they are hoping for a boy or girl the most common answer is, “I don’t care as long as the baby is healthy and normal.”  
 I have never heard anyone say, “Oh either is fine, but I’m really hoping we have a special child!”  
Other than the few amazing heroes who willingly adopt disabled children, no one really longs to have a disabled child. The irony that you are suddenly special if you get one has always puzzled me.

Regardless, I know people mean well and are trying to be kind and encouraging so I usually smile and move on with the conversation.  
On especially stressful Jon days, when I'm not much in a “Yahoo!” frame of mind, I've thought of asking (but have never done so) those who tell me how special I am, “Truthfully now, would you feel special if your child was born with ____________ (fill in the blank with any disability)?"
Our son, Jonathan, displays frequent resistant behaviors that can be challenging and one morning I remember, was particularly difficult. All directives and attempts to get Jon to school on time were met with opposition and finally resulted in Jon locking himself in the bathroom and refusing to open the door. 

I drove him to school everyday and by the time we arrived - late again - I was incredibly stressed and on the verge of tears.  

David, our youngest child, and a friend who was visiting from another state, accompanied me. We had made plans to spend the day at one of Central Florida’s theme parks, so after Jon was finally delivered to his classroom, we headed to the nearest store to purchase a few items and visit the ATM. 
I parked the car and the three of us were walking toward the store entrance when I saw him, a silver haired man wearing a bright orange vest and a big smile. He was holding a plastic container for the obvious purpose of taking donations. 

I was still revved up from my morning encounter with Jon, taking deep breaths and forcing my mind to move on to calmer thoughts and the fun day ahead.

As I walked past the orange-vested man he thrust the container toward me and in a most kind and gentle voice asked, “Maam, would you like to donate to the disabled this morning?” 
This unfortunate guy had no idea how poorly timed his inquiry was. He had no clue what I had just been through or what he was in for.  I stopped mid-stride, turned and glared at him.  
That simple question was the last straw, as the saying goes.  All the pent up frustration still swirling around inside exploded out of me like hot lava from an erupting volcano.  
Like some sort of lunatic, I yelled, “Oh sure! I’d just love to,” right in his face.
I ripped open my purse, clawed through my wallet, grabbed the first available paper bill I found and crammed five dollars inside that container so forcefully the surprised man almost dropped it on the sidewalk.  
Then I loudly declared, “There you go sir, something for the disabled.  Now what do you plan to do for their mothers?!" as I turned and stomped inside the store leaving him with his mouth hanging open and my free paper flower dangling from his fingers.
I didn’t feel very special that day. Still don’t for that matter.  If I am entirely honest, I often feel very inadequate and way too tired for this job. 
  
Jill Kelly, author and speaker, says sometimes God does give you more than you can handle so He can show Himself strong in and through you. 

In my weakness, He is made strong (2 Corinthians 12:9)

So I've figured something out in the midst of all this. God is trying to make me into something special and this child is part of the plan, stamped indelibly into the blueprint of my life.  
This design wasn’t included in the life I had visualized when I looked ahead many years ago.  And there are times even now when I look forward and struggle with an overwhelming sense of fear and uncertainty for my son’s future.  
But this I am sure of, God can be trusted with every detail of life. If I continually lean into Him, He provides everything I need to press on.  
Keeping my focus on Jesus as I learn, in my weakness, to reflect Him to a hurting world, is the ultimate goal. How I reach that goal is often a blend of His grace and my endurance. 
I have come so far from the person I was at the beginning of this journey. I trust somewhere along the way or at least near the end of the road I will finally reach a resemblance of something special in God's eyes. 
Because in God’s kingdom, being His ‘special child’ is the highest compliment and honor! 
“For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.”  Jeremiah 29:11 NLT