Adverse Childhood Experiences

*My mother is the most loving, gentle, supportive human being I have the pleasure of knowing today. She will tell anyone who will listen the negative effects of drugs on a person’s life and the redeeming work of a Savior. In no way at all do I want my story to place any dishonor on her. I love you mom. You are a true inspiration that change is possible.*

In 1992 I started 5^th grade. I had to take a test on the first day to determine my grade because I had missed much of the previous years due to homelessness. 4^th grade ELA consisted of me reading Little House on the Prairie and pretending the Uhaul we were living out of was my log cabin in the woods, math consisted of me calculating how much more money I needed to panhandle before a meal, science was learning about veins and how to properly insert a needle intravenously because a "miss" was scary, and social studies was a matter of learning America did have a class system and I was near the bottom. 

I got into 5^th grade, but I was very behind. I stayed frustrated. When I had to answer a question because the teacher called on me, I acted out first so no one would know I didn’t know the answer. My youngest brother and sister were taken away for good that year and they had been my reason to live during the hard times, so I was angry at the world. Adults. They were all unfair and harsh. I didn’t trust any of them. Right as I settled, my parents got on their feet and I was moved. The new school was different and hard and I stayed scared. I didn’t finish out the school year because I came home one day to all of our belongings on the sidewalk. We were homeless again. This time just with my father. Shelters are hard when it’s a dad and female kids. We tried once and my dad and brother were on the male side and my sister and I were alone without supervision on the woman’s side. It was scary. I was 11. She was 9. This time the homelessness ended in a stay at the Juvenile Detention center and then on to an emergency group home. I didn’t sleep there and I still can’t tell some of the stories out loud, but I started 6^th grade. I can only remember the stairwell of that school and the lunchroom. I sat in the back of my class and slept every day. The back of that classroom was the only place I could sleep knowing no one was going to hurt me. I did not do one assignment at that school. I was there for the first quarter and then went to a foster home. I don’t tell many of those stories either. They are too hard. But I met a friend that year. Her name was Erin and she was the first person I trusted with knowing my story. I settled best I could and finally tried at school. I was still angry and scared all the time. Lunch was the hardest. Before, I had food insecurity to the extreme and even though I didn’t at this point, I still spent all morning worried about lunch. Strange worries like calculating how many kids were in each class and how many classes went before mine and what if they ran out. I would get so worked up that by the time lunch came around I would get sick from the anxiety. We read James and the Giant Peach that year and wrote an essay. I don’t remember the assignment, but I do remember the pain of the experience of turning it in. I did not do it right and my teacher was frustrated. She started to tell me about what I did wrong but all I saw was an adult mad which scared me and all I felt was disappointment, an emotion I was too familiar with. I had a great coping strategy for the feeling of disappointment. If you quickly change it to anger it doesn’t hurt as bad. I ripped the paper up in the bathroom and flushed it. I took a 0. I still hate the sound of that book title to this day.  Then we read Roll of Thunder Hear My Cry and the book touched my soul. The struggles of a young girl growing up in a world she didn’t understand. I’ve read it almost every year since. Our experiences forever shape us. I went to 7^th grade and lived back with my parents again. Then homelessness again. This time I tried to make sure I went to school and tried to work hard despite things that were going on. That was the year I ended up the girl you see in the picture above. 

Front page of the Appeal’s section of the Commercial Appeal. Before that article, Erin was the only person I shared my struggle with. After it, the entire middle school knew. It was brutal. Kids can be mean. I hated going to school after that. I hated the article. I hated the other kids. I hated the teachers. But for the first time I had some constants in my life. Erin went to 6-8^th with me and I had a really supportive DSS worker. Summer between 7^th and 8^th I got to go to Florida to visit my grandparents. It was nice. My sister and I flew there but when we flew back no one was at the airport to get us. It was scary. I was 13 and she was 11. I only knew one number by heart, Erin’s. We used the payphone at the airport to call her. Her mom took me in and my sister had a friend whose mom took her in. We lived separate but with our friends that year. Then the article I hated so much afforded us the opportunity to go to the boarding school style group home (French Camp Academy) that I would forever call home. I did poorly my first semester because I was defensive and ready for rejection, but after that I soared.

Why am I detailing these years of my life? Because I have something to say.

 I’m currently researching the effects of Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACEs) on student’s educational outcomes for a research proposal I have to submit. On the 10 question ACE test, individual’s scoring >4 have an increased chance at premature mortality, chronic diseases, and reduced opportunities. I first heard about the ACE study at a conference I went to last Spring. It was in the context of a ministry using it to screen potential candidates who might be at risk on the mission field. They have a policy to not hire anyone with over 2 ACEs unless they have had extensive counseling. I pulled the test up on my phone while he spoke. I had all 10. I was angry at the man and his ministry. Angry enough to find him afterward. I asked him what they would do if they had a candidate with 10 ACEs. He said he had only seen that once before and the kid ended up pretty bad off. I looked him square in the eyes and told him, “I have 10” and proceeded to tell him all the things I had accomplished in my life. When I finished, he gently asked me, “Who was your person?” I didn’t know what he meant, and I asked him to clarify. He told me the only thing that mitigates the effects of ACEs in someone’s life is an adult stepping in in a big way before the child turns 18. Tears welled in my eyes and I walked away. I did have a person. Mr. and Mrs. Akers, the woman and man who raised me in the group home during my high school years. And more… the teachers there that never once yelled at me or made me feel stupid. They gave me an opportunity of a lifetime – a chance to heal.

So, here is the something I need to say. If you foster children, work for DSS, work in the educational environment, or with children at all,  YOU can be the “someone” for a child of trauma. More and more kids are experiencing adverse childhood experiences. They come to school and they are hungry, and tired, and scared, and lonely, and always on guard. They are quick to react and quick to run. They are bearing unspeakable burdens. And they need someone to notice them. They need calm voices. They need to feel safe. They need you to be firm with boundaries and set high expectations, but to also gently correct them when they fail. They need you to know that trust is hard, and their hardened walls feel safe to them. They need you to know that small things, like a harsh tone, set off their "flight or fight" mechanisms and then it takes them on average 6 hours to recover. And not everyone is called to go over and beyond for a child, some of the greatest teachers in my high school experience were the ones that just lived their lives being these ways and their natural self made me feel like I was going to be okay. But I was also re-traumatized many times over by foster parents, teachers, and other adults because they yelled, punished harshly, never pushed me to succeed but constantly touted my failures, and minimized me as a person. Don’t be that person.

If you’ve read this far, kudos to you!  I’ve shared bits and pieces of my story before, but I always try to stay right on the edge of anything painful or hard for someone to hear. This was a painful but necessary trip down memory lane. But not with the intention of making anyone feel bad, but rather as a call to action. Every child of trauma needs that one connection to beat the odds… the names in red are mine.

So, Take Heart

The sweet rippling tones of Lake Anne have been calling my name in some capacity for nearly 20 years now. I spent summers in the coolness of her waters watching the joy she brought out of countless littles. She whispered the gentle breeze that wrapped itself around me one night calling to a boy to offer me the warmth of his sweater. She sat quietly by years later and watched as that boy got on one knee and asked me to spend forever with him. I love the comfort of her space. Since I returned to French Camp I’ve spent a lot of my days biking around Lake Anne. I’ve always stayed on the trails that hug her outer edges so that I can see glimpses of her as I go along. That is me in life. I have always hugged close to the spaces that make me feel safe. The luscious green areas of life that are comfortable, enjoyable … peaceful.

This past week I finally went off those trails in search of School Mountain. As I followed a trusted friend's directions, I turned away from Lake Anne and out of the luscious peaceful green. The space I entered was barren, ugly, and void of any protection. The hot sun beat down in an excruciating, painful way.  I sat on a felled log and looked around wondering why anyone would come out there. Then like an arrow straight to my heart, I looked around and realized this was me. This was me right in that second. This place was how I felt deep inside. And I cried the deepest, best cry of my life. I’ve been trying to stay close to the peaceful places in my life in an attempt to avoid the painful things. Sitting there I realized that ugly space was doing something. It was barren because it had been logged. It was providing something someone needed and eventually it would all grow back. The painful things in my life I keep avoiding are doing something. They are producing something.

 

And I kid you not, I asked God to speak this truth into my life right then and there and I opened up my bible study I had brought along, and there… right there…

Go to those places that are painful, sit in the uncomfortable, and let it produce something in you that only it, in all of its ugliness, can produce. It’s okay. And I am here to tell you the hard truth. Some people will ask you not to sit there because it makes them uncomfortable. Just remember that it is doing something for you, not them. 

This blog also stands as a disclaimer for everyone in my life: I am sitting in a barren place right now. The sun is beating down on me. MInistry is hard. It is full of hurts and disappointments that can leave you broken before the Lord. I'm spending some time sitting in those hard places and praying for God's guidance.

In the meantime, the Lord reminds me that my troubles are light and momentary. In the weight of eternity, so are yours. So, take heart! 

Though You Slay Me

New Things!

I've often pondered changing the name of this blog. 

But since I blog about once every 365 days, it remains fitting. 

Last year I filled everyone in on a very scary time in our lives; I continued to update things through social media and never updated here. I will quickly update!

M2 is fine. 

His brain scans and eye scans were completely normal by 6 months out. 

It was a fluke. 

M2 considers it his Jonah moment. 

Coincidentally, we did an in-depth study of Jonah as a family that summer. 

M2 came to me in August and told me he was sure he needed to surrender to God his work life and enter full-time ministry immediately.  

This was a bit problematic because he owed a time commitment on active duty.

He knew it wasn't a problem for God. 

We applied to overseas missions through the IMB and a domestic missions opportunity here in the states.

We diligently prayed God would close doors and open doors. 

He was faithful. The IMB door closed. 

He was faithful. The Army agreed to let M2 go early. 

He was faithful. 

(I love to share both of our journeys (which are uniquely different), but this forum is a little too impersonal for me. I would love to share it personally though if you are interested.)

That brings us to where we are today. This past week we went on an intensive week-long interview with French Camp Academy. Many of you will be familiar with FCA from simply knowing me :). 

For those of you who are not familiar, FCA is a boarding school for children who are in need of a Christ-centered haven to grow and mature. Their mission is to live out Christ to each and every child who comes through their doors. Many of you know that I have a passion for showing children they have value despite their circumstances. This passion is what drove me to help start up Let It Shine! I love to see those kids feel love and value, yet I always leave longing to follow-up and walk the road with them longer than one birthday. With transient families, this is hard. 

French Camp is the vehicle for this passion to be played out daily. It is also the place that God has led M2's heart as he surrenders to a call to ministry.


Our family feels blessed beyond measure to get to experience this new path in life. 
I have spoken to many people in the last 9 months, many of whom were concerned about M2's decision to walk away from 15 years in the Army when retirement seemed right around the corner. Let me assure you all, God's in control and he has great plans for our family. We firmly believe that we are not walking away from anything, rather walking into something! We are not concerned at all about His provisions. Yes, we are sad to be saying goodbye to this path, but we are equally thrilled to say hello to the next. 

We covet your prayers! Those of you who have diligently walked this road with us and have prayed with a commitment that I have at times lacked, you will never fully know how deeply we have felt those prayers. We ask that you continue to pray for our family. 

If you are curious and want to learn more about this ministry, visit their website ... 
http://www.frenchcamp.org/frenchcamp/

Or read their blog...
 https://frenchcampblog.wordpress.com/

Or visit them on social media ...
https://www.facebook.com/frenchcampacademy


Lastly, almost 2 years ago, our family attended a family conference where we chose a mission statement for our family. 

We chose Nehemiah 2:17, 
"Then I said to them, “You see the trouble we are in: Jerusalem lies in ruins, and its gates have been burned with fire. Come, let us rebuild the wall of Jerusalem, and we will no longer be in disgrace.”

And Philipians 2:14-16,
 ^"Do everything without grumbling or arguing, so that you may become blameless and pure, “children of God without fault in a warped and crooked generation.” Then you will shine among them like stars in the sky as you hold firmly to the word of life. And then I will be able to boast on the day of Christ that I did not run or labor in vain."

Let us all work as God's restorers in a broken world as we hold firmly to the word of life! 

 

It wasn't soap poisoning after all...

I'm thinking of blogging again. 

Thinking in a completely non-committal way. 

Tonight I'm blogging simply because I feel the need to fill people in on our lives and thus far, we've been pretty silent about what is going on with us. 

Today I was reminded that opening up gives us an outlet to glorify God through whatever we are going through. 

 

And I am going to need to be held accountable to that "glorifying God" bit, I'm sure. 

 

It's been awhile so I'll start with a quick "catch up" ...

 

Kids go to actual school in an actual building that is not actually home. 

I'm almost done with my own education!

We moved again since the last post. 

We have a second dog, 

second car, 

and second income. 

 And finally... 

One of us went blind.

 

Caught up? Or confused?

 

Back in January, M2 started having some pain behind his eye. He was stubbornly playing the "there is no good time" card whenever I insisted he get it checked out. 

 

One Sunday that changed. He sat next to me, moments before walking out the door to church, and exclaimed, "I just went blind in my right eye!" After berating him with "this is not funny" and "please don't joke about something like this" I realized he was being completely honest. 

 

Long story short.

 

February 2014 was hard. 

 

Doctors. 

Pain. 

More doctors. 

More pain. 

Emotional exhaustion. 

Pain. 

Spiritual exhaustion. 

No answers. 

More doctors. 

Pain.

 

I thought I was going to keel over with exhaustion and I wasn't even the one in pain or struggling with vision losses. His vision quickly returned from complete blindness and settled on something akin to El without glasses watching Pleasantville. Blurry and degraded in color. 

 

Lots of tests. Lots of doctors. Lots of hoping. 

 

Finally, this past week we were told an almost for sure diagnoses was reached. Several tests had pointed to one thing and each test added a piece to that puzzle. First, several doctors disagreed with each other. Time passed and more results came back and I think they have some form of agreement now. 

Here's what we know for sure:

 

M2's optic nerve's myelin sheath was being attacked by his body.

They call it a demyelinating disease.

They have eliminated most of the demyelinating diseases via testing. 

They continue to try and eliminate Multiple Sclerosis but each test comes back with an

"unable to rule out MS."

We are getting a second opinion at UNC from a neuro ophthalmologist.

We aren't sticking to anything we are told until then. 

And most importantly... 

GOD KNOWS!

 

So, that's that. And we are doing better in March than we were in February. God has seriously stepped down to my level and communed with me like never before. I was offered a full-time job that I took. Something that completely leaves me fulfilled and exhausted. Exactly what I needed in order to not focus on the what-if's of life right now. 

As far as M2, the myelin is rebuilding and the pain is significantly better. He can't raise his body heat right now or the vision starts to go again. This won't be permanent but will stay until this episode has completely cleared up. He was scheduled for this deployment that he had his complete heart invested in. At first all the doctors said that they would sign off for him to still be able to go. The neurologist said she has several active soldiers who deploy with MS and other dymyelinating issues. Yet, this past week new test results and further investigation has led to the team treating him to pull that recommendation and suggest he not go. Mostly because he is not fully healed and only time will tell how long that might take. This was not a typical deployment and the thought of not going is not a pleasant one for him right now. 

This has been a very surprising, shocking, gut-wrenching experience. 

We have never felt God so close. He is here. He knows. He knows M2's comings and goings. He knows if M2 will heal and never have another flare up or if this will be life altering. He knows. 

He knows.

For I know the plans I have for you. Plans to prosper you and not to harm you. Plans to give you hope and a future.

And I'm reminded - sometimes what we see in the moment as a tragedy ends up being one of the biggest blessings God could ever bestow upon us :). 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

11 years later!

11 years ago I married my soulmate, my absolute other half.  The past 11 years have been full of joy, hardships, pain, separations, love, growth, and innumerable happy moments.  Each year I have looked at the man I married and loved him more.  

Today our anniversary is falling on the exact day of the week that we got married!  It's still funny to me that it was on a Monday.  Who gets married on a Monday?!  Someone whose committed to caring for every need of their future wife, that's who :)!

I can still hear M2's voice when he called a week before we got married asking me to fly to DC and marry him earlier than planned.  He was so confident that I would say yes that he had already gotten a plane ticket.  I was more than happy to oblige.  Neither of us knew what kind of fierce opposition we would face from friends and family regarding that decision.  We have always explained our decision in light of how the Army works since this was the easiest for everyone to understand.  In the pre-911 Army world things were still run by Army personnel instead of civilians.  It took weeks, if not months, for an enlisted guys status to change from single to married and receive BAH.  No enlisted single soldier under E-5 could live off post and those under E-5 that were married definitely would not make it in the suburbs of Washington DC without BAH.  The solution that was counseled to soldiers wanting to marry was that they would have to marry, then have the new wife stay with her family until BAH was established and permission was granted to the soldier to move.  M2 was pulled aside one day and told that his Squad Leader could guarantee him on-post housing if we could get married in early July instead of August.  So - there you go - a Monday wedding :)!

BUT ... that is only part of the story.  When I finished out my school year in May at Mississippi State I had to go home to a home life that I had not been part of for more than 7 years.  I had to endure harsh criticism at every turn for giving up a full ride scholarship to marry.  Some remarks from this period of my life still sting to this day.  My refuge came late May when I started work at the summer camp where M2 and I had started dating.  It was a home to me for the summer and a place I absolutely loved!  Summer camp would end just a few weeks before our planned August wedding.  I literally had no where to go and the prospect of a few weeks being extended to a month or more while M2 tried to get BAH was enough to cause severe anxiety for me.  I have always felt an enormous amount of gratitude for M2 taking his commitment to take care of me serious even before vows were exchanged.  He boldly took control, told me I was going to fly to DC and marry him on that Monday, return to MS to finish out the last 3 weeks of camp and then he would have a place ready for me to come to - a loving home.   

He has cared for me from that phone call till this day.  Never letting me down.  Never giving up on me.  Always loving me.  Always caring for me.  Always showing me something so sacrificial. 

I love him.  More than words can express. 

So, this is the story that resulted in a Monday wedding at the funeral chapel in Arlington Cemetery. 

Crazy cool, huh? 

Thankful

We are finally finishing up our school year.  I am completely thankful for the opportunity to school my children at home but at the same time, May always brings with it the exhaustion of unlimited hours of being at my children's disposal.  I am sure that teachers in a traditional classroom feel the same longing for an end come May, possibly sooner! 

We have several projects that wrap up our year. The kids each have an end of the year memorization.  I posted E's on FB awhile back.  Here is a B's! 

It's from Joyce Kilmer's "Trees". 

E wants it to be known that she wrote the background music herself :)!

Also, E has been writing all year long.  We still have a few scattered writing assignments but today's showed to me how far she has come this year.   She first had to read a quote from Matthew Henry. 

"I thank Thee first because I was never robbed before; second, because, although they took my purse, they did not take my life; third, because although they took my all, it was not much; and fourth, because it was I who was robbed, and not I who robbed."

Her assignment was to think of something that happened in her life that she may not have liked and find what she could be thankful to God for out of that circumstance, using Henry's model.  I loved what she turned in!

"I thank Thee first for discipline, for Thy rod, even when it hurts, because without a lesson a hard life I would have, second, I thank Thee for my parents and the command to discipline, third, I thank Thee for my getting disciplined from my parents and not from life itself." - E

I had to giggle when I read it.  Good to know that the only hardship she could think of in her life was the discipline lovingly bestowed upon her! 

Just a few more weeks and I will be completely satisfied with a year well done! 

I am planning a future blog highlighting all the accomplishments that we have made this year - they are numerous and I am so proud of my kiddos! 

Flexibility - I hear you calling but I don't want to answer!

I have been described by many a friend as "super flexible". M2 as well. No not in the sense where we can put our feet behind our heads or anything crazy like that, although I might try that today! More in the sense that we can go and do on a whim. We adjust quickly.

Or so it seems to the world!

Really that is all on the outside and mostly due to the lifestyle that we live. The Army lifestyle. It demands flexibility. That is one main reason we seem flexible another is that M2 and I are both a little flighty! We get going on one path and see a butterfly and say "ooh look" and head the other way without ever realizing it. My youngest, bless her heart, got a double whammy of flightiness. Seriously though, we will be driving over an hour away to go do something specific and on the drive I will google something else in that city on my phone and before you know it we think that new thing is what we went to the city for all along and it will not occur to us until we are home that our original intent for the trip was never reached!

On the inside though, deep down, I am not a flexible soul. I am a rigid homeschooling mom and I am a rigid disciplinarian. There is no flexibility within my realm of parenting. Mostly, I understand this to be a great thing. It means that my children have no doubts as to what is expected of them most the time. It also means that at the end of every school year I know my children received a solid education and I get to lay any homeschooling doubts aside. Yet, where there is goodness in all this there can also reside something not so good. Children with spirits that might be breaking. This is something I completely do not want.

I have exactly 8 1/2 weeks of curriculum left in this year. I have exactly 8 1/2 weeks before I send E off to summer camp. I so desperately want to finish before she leaves. We have pushed so hard this year and come great strides. Yet, she came to me heartbroken this morning and said she felt pressured to get "all this work" done and I could tell it was really causing her spirit to suffer. Unlike myself, I took a DEEP breath and decided to stretch out our weeks - who says we can't just finish after she gets home from camp. I attend a homeschool forum with other moms using the same curriculum, just with older kids, and most of them stretch this particular curriculum into 2 years anyways. It covers A LOT!

This is just a mild example of me hearing flexibility calling my name. But I think I must be in a season of learning flexibility because every day I am having to rethink a ton of ways I operate and become more flexible. I am having to give a lot up.

This brings we to the car situation! My, oh so wise, husband informed me that we will not be getting another car. We will learn to be (you guessed it) more flexible!

Let the adventures begin ...

Oh, the car drama!

I should probably put the laptop down right now and not proceed with blogging. Sometimes on days when your eyes are red from countless tears and your heart feels burdened you should back away from the keyboard before you type something dramatic to only regret it tomorrow!

But I'm going to throw caution to the wind ...

Today has been HARD! I have spent almost half of every hour since I woke up crying. My only consolation at this point is that maybe this emotional roller coaster I am on means I am pregnant!! (Lets all collectively cross our fingers!) I am sure as M2 reads this he will be pleading that no one sends up a prayer for me that the "Vacancy" sign on my womb suddenly flashes to "No Vacancies"! Ignore him though - we need another baby pronto! I'm getting old people! I am also getting WAY off track here ...

Back to the reason behind the emotional roller coaster because let's face it - the tubal ligation I had probably means it is NOT a pregnancy. We, as a family, have fought hard for the last 4 years to maintain ourselves as a one car family. We have reasons. Economical ones, environmental ones (yes we are tree-huggers, love us anyways), but most importantly, familial ones! We have gone through stages where we both had a car and the kids and I did our own thing and M2 did his own thing and we got very disconnected in ways we did not even know. Then, through a set of circumstances that an entirely different blog could be written about, we ended up selling our second car to some friends. This was going to be temporary because M2 had already planned on buying his dream car, at the time a Honda truck, as soon as we moved to our next duty station. But then something kind of cool happened. We squeezed into a routine of one car. It made us rely on each other more, it made us compromise and work together, it forced us to communicate more, it meant that we went EVERYWHERE as a family. When you face challenges and work together to overcome them - it only makes you grow stronger. We grew stronger as a family. We made a decision to stay a one car family and keep working to make it work.

Each move we go through some growing pains as we figure out new routines and new ways to give and take. This move has been especially hard so far. We live off post. The schedule M2 works is not predictable in the least right now (not that in the Army it ever has been but we have been able to guesstimate pretty well in the past). We have had several episodes of disappointment as schedules change and activities are missed. Right now we are on the verge of throwing the towel in and heading to the nearest Honda dealership and for some reason that is causing me to be an emotional wreck! I feel like the entire dynamic of our family is about to change, entirely! (I know I am RIGHT in the midst of crazy right now - who else in the world thinks purchasing a second car will throw the entire world off balance? Not a sane person, I tell you!)

Maybe it is time to give up on the one car dream. Or maybe it is time to reach down to our depths and stretch ourselves in a way we never have and figure out a way to make this work. Which is why I shouldn't be blogging this. Usually I blog right as I am coming out of a whirlwind and have come to some conclusion or learned some lesson that I feel like sharing with the world.

Not this time. I'll cry on it some more and let you know ...

"Big, Fat, Dummy"

We have been at our new post for almost 1 month now. All the tears of moving away from a place we loved have dried and we have REALLY been able to make this new place our home. We decided to hit the ground running as soon as we got here so that everyone would have less time to sit around and dwell on what was left behind.

In the process of leaving our kids were VERY emotional. They had to leave some people behind that meant a lot to them and they truly loved our home. It was hard. They were also very certain that the new post was not going to ever be home. I told them a story that I once heard at a PWOC. This lady spoke about moving to Germany last minute and how her kids were so devastated and so they decided to have them pray specifically for something they each wanted upon arrival to Germany. They were VERY specific prayers and they were all answered!! Her message was that God cared about the small things in our lives! So, I had them start praying for very specific things. E prayed hard that a friend from 2 post ago would miraculously have moved to this new post and be living in the same apartment building as us. She took specific to the EXTREME. We convinced her to tack on to the end "or give me a new friend that will be an even better friend".

I am so happy to say that a week ago she exclaimed, "God DID answer my prayer - and I do have a better friend now!" Even better than that God gave all 3 of them several great friends! I prayed for other homeschooling moms I could relate to since that was the one thing I lacked at our last post and that has also been answered several times over! We are so overwhelmed with thankfulness!

Moving on to what's behind this post. Most of those prayers were answered through a local homeschooling group we joined on Yahoo. We meet at a park on Fridays and the kids get a few hours of GREAT playtime. This particular Friday the park was a little crowded. Soon after we arrived I saw my son break down in tears and run to his sister. I went to investigate. He explained, through heaving sobs, that he asked a boy if he wanted to play with him and be in his club and the boy in return called him a "big, fat, dummy". (Let me intervene right here and say that in NO way, shape, or form do my kids hear that kind of talk at home, they do not understand it so to B that boy was literally saying; you are big, you are fat, you are a dummy.) After he explained, E instantly was like, "show me where he is and I will go tell him something." In my mind I was all like, "show me where his mother is and I will go tell her something!". Matter of fact, I didn't even ask him to point the kid out for fear I might "accidentally" trip him later. Yet, trying to be a good mom I reminded them both that they needed to do what they knew was right and forgive. He dried his tears and thankfully ran to find another friend.

We talked about it again tonight so that I could make sure no scarring existed. I told him I was proud that he got back in there and did not let that keep him from trying to make other friends. Then he broke my heart ...

He told me that later he went, with the help of his new friend, and told the boy that what he said to him had really hurt his feelings. The boy responded with, "well I don't have feelings". B just walked away. But he said that telling the boy how it made him feel made him feel so much better! Sometimes I forget how strong our kids can be! I would have been terrified to tell him to do that for fear the boy may say something worse - but B is right - telling someone how they make you feel can make a situation so much better no matter if they respond in kind.

So - looking back - maybe if I had found the mom and told her what I thought about her parenting skills or lack there of I would feel better now instead of still being angry ...

Eventually I will take my own advice and just forgive.

More importantly - why is he not this small still?!