Mia's preschool just started a program called Raising a Reader. It's neat. It's like the library coming to you. Every week the kids get a book bag with 4 books. They keep them for a week, take them back and exchange it for a new bag with new books. Great program.
For the past year or so, Mia has been getting extremely emotional with movies and stories, often with good reason. She cries when Mufasa dies in Lion King. She cries when Mr. Frederickson's house floats away in UP. She cries when Tinkerbell breaks the moonstone. At my mom's house a few days ago, she dropped a marble in the pool and was hysterical until her daddy fished it out with the pool net. Needless to say, she is becoming very sensitive.
Well this week's Raising a Reader bag should have a warning label, "CAUTION: MAY CAUSE UNCONTROLLABLE SOBBING!"
The first book, Giving Thanks: A Native American Good Morning Message was just fine.
The second one, My Lucky Day, was getting a little risky for tears. It's about a wolf trying to eat a pig. The end of the story was pretty cute but Mia was very concerned about the pig's welfare and was a little nervous throughout the story. (This is probably a good time to mention that her favorite toy is a stuffed pig)
The third book, The Snowman, was great until the very last page...where he melts! I should have seen that one coming. Poor Mia was fighting back tears as she asked, "he can build another one, right?" I assured her he could and quickly suggested moving on to the 4th book to get her mind off the sad story.
The last book, Mama, was the worst of all! It's a true story about a baby hippo named Owen who loses his mother in a Tsunami. He is rescued and taken to a wildlife sanctuary where he adopts a tortoise as his mother. Mia was beside herself. She cried and cried and was completely inconsolable. I looked up the real Owen on the internet so she could see pictures of him and see how happy he is with his turtle mama. She just kept crying and saying that she she would be so sad to lose me and she didn't want a new mama. I could not detach her from my side. She cried the rest of the evening and came and got into bed with me twice in the middle of the night!
I may need to preview the books from now on!
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Thursday, October 20, 2011
The Miracle Worker
Have you ever had that moment when you realize that you are unconsciously acting out a movie scene?
A few weeks ago at dinner Maddox and I were having a battle of wills. Typically he does well at the table. The boy loves to eat. But every once in a while he will get this look of utter defiance on his face and begin throwing food in every direction. This particular day it was applesauce. He eats really well with spoon and fork, but this day he was determined to stick his fingers in the applesauce. Maddox is a sensory sensitive kid when it comes to weird textures. He hates to have stuff stick to his fingers, like applesauce. So when he does get something like that on them, he shakes them furiously in an attempt to get it off. It's like sticking applesauce in a fan. It goes everywhere. I'd had a long day at work and was not going to spend the rest of the evening wiping applesauce off the walls. So I took it away. Immediate screaming. I handed him his spoon and put the applesauce back in front of him. He puts the spoon down and reaches to stick his hand in it and I snatch it away. More screaming. Again I hand him the spoon and he throws it...as hard as he can. I pick it up and force his little fist open and force those amazingly strong fingers closed around it. I dip in in the applesauce and force the spoon to his mouth. Thinking I won, I let go. He spits out the applesauce and hurls the spoon across the room again. So we start over. At this point Jason and Mia quietly snuck out of the room. We did it over and over and he screamed and whined and after what seemed like hours, finally gave in and took a bite with his spoon. I was exhausted!
Suddenly the scene began to feel eerily familiar.
Does anyone remember that old movie about Helen Keller and Anne Sullivan, The Miracle Worker? (If not click on the link to see the scene I'm talking about). There is a scene where Anne is trying to teach Helen to eat at the table and the interaction gets quite violent. I promise there was no slapping in our scene!
Part of me found this comical and the other part of me was a little discouraged. Will it always be so hard to teach him things? Having had a neurotypical child first (yes, having a child with autism comes with it's own vocabulary), it seemed like Mia just learned things on her own. I never really felt like I was teaching her. She just picked it up.
As I began to dwell on that, I remembered the rest of the movie. The rest of Helen Keller's story. She learned to SPEAK. Despite disabilities, despite the hardship, she succeeded. She credited her success to Anne Sullivan, her miracle worker.
Well, guess what? I've got a Miracle Worker of my own.
Jesus looked at them and said, "With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible." ~Matthew 19:26
A few weeks ago at dinner Maddox and I were having a battle of wills. Typically he does well at the table. The boy loves to eat. But every once in a while he will get this look of utter defiance on his face and begin throwing food in every direction. This particular day it was applesauce. He eats really well with spoon and fork, but this day he was determined to stick his fingers in the applesauce. Maddox is a sensory sensitive kid when it comes to weird textures. He hates to have stuff stick to his fingers, like applesauce. So when he does get something like that on them, he shakes them furiously in an attempt to get it off. It's like sticking applesauce in a fan. It goes everywhere. I'd had a long day at work and was not going to spend the rest of the evening wiping applesauce off the walls. So I took it away. Immediate screaming. I handed him his spoon and put the applesauce back in front of him. He puts the spoon down and reaches to stick his hand in it and I snatch it away. More screaming. Again I hand him the spoon and he throws it...as hard as he can. I pick it up and force his little fist open and force those amazingly strong fingers closed around it. I dip in in the applesauce and force the spoon to his mouth. Thinking I won, I let go. He spits out the applesauce and hurls the spoon across the room again. So we start over. At this point Jason and Mia quietly snuck out of the room. We did it over and over and he screamed and whined and after what seemed like hours, finally gave in and took a bite with his spoon. I was exhausted!
Suddenly the scene began to feel eerily familiar.
Does anyone remember that old movie about Helen Keller and Anne Sullivan, The Miracle Worker? (If not click on the link to see the scene I'm talking about). There is a scene where Anne is trying to teach Helen to eat at the table and the interaction gets quite violent. I promise there was no slapping in our scene!
Part of me found this comical and the other part of me was a little discouraged. Will it always be so hard to teach him things? Having had a neurotypical child first (yes, having a child with autism comes with it's own vocabulary), it seemed like Mia just learned things on her own. I never really felt like I was teaching her. She just picked it up.
As I began to dwell on that, I remembered the rest of the movie. The rest of Helen Keller's story. She learned to SPEAK. Despite disabilities, despite the hardship, she succeeded. She credited her success to Anne Sullivan, her miracle worker.
Well, guess what? I've got a Miracle Worker of my own.
Jesus looked at them and said, "With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible." ~Matthew 19:26
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Conviction hurts
This past Sunday, the sermon was about hoarding wealth. It was a great message and I walked away feeling a little conviction about my personal wealth and spending habits. I say 'a little' because if you know me well, you may also know that I rarely spend money on myself. I don't shop much and would rather pay a bill or buy something practical for my children or husband. As my family climbed into our nice big truck and drove to our warm, comfortable home, I half-heartedly vowed to be a better steward of what God has blessed me with and went on with my day as usual. Little did I know how soon this vow would be tested. Little did I know how quickly I would fail.
Monday was a typical work day except that I decided to use my lunch hour to run some errands instead of heading home. I stopped at a local discount store to look for some things to complete my Halloween costume. As I'm walking up to the store, a young man timidly approached me and asked if I had any change. I gave him my usual scripted response: "sorry, I don't carry cash." This is usually true. I never have even a penny in my purse, but as he repeated my words and I walked away, I remembered that I did have cash in my purse.
*I need to interrupt this story to tell you an embarrassing fact about me*
I have a huge problem with giving money to people. It irritates me to see the same people day after day panhandling on the corner in front of stores. I go to the post office every day and the same guy is there day after day asking me for money. As I said earlier, I try to be practical with money. I hate to spend frivolously. I can't stand the thought that if I give someone my "hard earned" dollar, that they might spend it on alcohol or cigarettes instead of a necessity like food. I don't mind giving to the Salvation Army or some similar program where I feel that my money is wisely spent. We also sponsor a child in Kenya through Compassion International. But give some random person on the street a buck? No way! This has been an issue that God has been trying to convict me about for a long time. Our life group recently decided to befriend a homeless couple and learning a little more about them has made me a little more compassionate, but I have still been tightly holding on to every cent.
So back to my story.
As I shopped, I completely forgot about the guy outside the store. I didn't find the stuff I needed for my costume, but I did find an orange shirt for Mia to wear for "orange day" at preschool. So I get up to the register and start to pull out my debit card and I see the corner of a dollar bill peeking out of my wallet. I open it up and quickly count the bills. I had enough to pay cash. I whip out my cash and as the cashier is handing me the change, I glance at the next customer in line behind me. Yup, you guessed it. The guy from outside the store. He quickly lowered his head and I felt the flush of embarrassment and shame. As I practically ran from the store, I heard him counting out change to the cashier.
As I drove back to work with flaming cheeks, a scripture suddenly popped into my head.
Monday was a typical work day except that I decided to use my lunch hour to run some errands instead of heading home. I stopped at a local discount store to look for some things to complete my Halloween costume. As I'm walking up to the store, a young man timidly approached me and asked if I had any change. I gave him my usual scripted response: "sorry, I don't carry cash." This is usually true. I never have even a penny in my purse, but as he repeated my words and I walked away, I remembered that I did have cash in my purse.
*I need to interrupt this story to tell you an embarrassing fact about me*
I have a huge problem with giving money to people. It irritates me to see the same people day after day panhandling on the corner in front of stores. I go to the post office every day and the same guy is there day after day asking me for money. As I said earlier, I try to be practical with money. I hate to spend frivolously. I can't stand the thought that if I give someone my "hard earned" dollar, that they might spend it on alcohol or cigarettes instead of a necessity like food. I don't mind giving to the Salvation Army or some similar program where I feel that my money is wisely spent. We also sponsor a child in Kenya through Compassion International. But give some random person on the street a buck? No way! This has been an issue that God has been trying to convict me about for a long time. Our life group recently decided to befriend a homeless couple and learning a little more about them has made me a little more compassionate, but I have still been tightly holding on to every cent.
So back to my story.
As I shopped, I completely forgot about the guy outside the store. I didn't find the stuff I needed for my costume, but I did find an orange shirt for Mia to wear for "orange day" at preschool. So I get up to the register and start to pull out my debit card and I see the corner of a dollar bill peeking out of my wallet. I open it up and quickly count the bills. I had enough to pay cash. I whip out my cash and as the cashier is handing me the change, I glance at the next customer in line behind me. Yup, you guessed it. The guy from outside the store. He quickly lowered his head and I felt the flush of embarrassment and shame. As I practically ran from the store, I heard him counting out change to the cashier.
As I drove back to work with flaming cheeks, a scripture suddenly popped into my head.
The Sheep and the Goats (Matthew 25:31-46)
When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit on his glorious throne. All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate the people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. He will put the sheep on his right and the goats on his left.
Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’
Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’ The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’
Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me.’
They also will answer, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needing clothes or sick or in prison, and did not help you?’ He will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.’
Then they will go away to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life.
I felt sick, I wanted to cry, I wanted to pull over to the side of the road and fall on my knees, I wanted to race back to the store and find the guy, I wanted to crawl into a hole and hide. I saw myself clearly for what I am: I am a selfish, greedy person. I may not hoard for myself, but I sure hoard for my family. I feel entitled to what I earn and am not willing to share it with those who have not 'earned' it for themselves. Who do I think I am? I sure don't look like a Christ-follower. I had FAILED and failed badly. I parked my truck and sat slumped in my seat. All I could do was cry out, "Oh God, that was YOU! I just said no to YOU!"
I have struggled with this all week. I am red with embarrassment now as I write this. Each time I think of it, I again cry out in my heart, "I'm so sorry."
So friends, please pray for me. I sure could use it.
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