"May I see your invitation, please?" an elderly woman standing at the front door to the grocery-store-converted-into-a-Christmas-charity-store asked. The year was 1997 and I was standing in line waiting to enter this store with our two youngest children. Megan, just seven, was in school. Jeremy was just five years old and still quite a handful with his predisposition to wandering, while Rebekah was just a baby. It was my intention to quietly slip in for Christmas shopping and this woman seemed to be calling unwanted attention to our little trio!
Handing my invitation to the woman I embarked on a 60- minute walk through aisles and aisles of items on display for the Christmas season. As I ambled along, pushing a shopping cart with Rebekah in her car seat and pulling Jeremy along beside, an escort explained the rules to me. "You may pick two gifts for each of your three children, one for your spouse and one for the family. We encourage families (poor families like you, she seemed to gently imply) to pick one clothing item and one toy for each child." Glancing around at the others in this special store, some families seemed genuinely poor as evidenced by their threadbare coats and sock-less attire (in the winter, no less) while others were dressed with comfortable and warm clothes like me. But we all had one thing in common: We were all shopping for free items in a charity-minded store.
So how did I get here? Well, I'm not really sure. Although humbling to receive, this invitation was most assuredly appreciated this Christmas year.
Two years earlier Rick and a business associate had started a consulting business after working for many years as a banker. They named this new business venture "Integrity Management". I.M. was beginning to show signs of success and we were hopeful to see profits at year-end. For two years we had lived on a fraction of what we'd been used to and we'd given most of our life's savings to the start-up of I.M. The new normal was very hard for me to live with mostly because I'd never learned how to spend money wisely. And there was an irrational fear that someday we could be living in the streets!
Still, someone had turned in our name for help with the cost of Christmas shopping. Were we poor? Not as much as many others, but we were living on a significantly lower salary than in previous years when both Rick and I worked. Now Rick was the only wage-earner and we had three children, one with special needs. I was scared and truthfully, a little angry with God for allowing us to be in this position. I chose to shop for free simply because the opportunity arose and I was just grateful to have someone help bear some of the financial burden for this year's Christmas.
I never did learn who submitted our name. Although humbled and slightly embarrassed, I was very grateful for their thoughtfulness.
As I picked gifts for each of the three children I was overcome with a sense of gratitude not only to our sponsor but also to God for offering this gift to help relieve the burden of Christmas spending. I still remember a couple of those gifts and have kept them as a remembrance, or sorts-- a yellow, knitted ski cap for Megan and warm wool blanket for the family. And as I moved along I resolved to push aside any smugness or pride within my heart. I realized that I wasn't any better than those who have less money than I did. I learned that life is what it is -- lemonade can be made with lemons, so to speak.
Since 1997 I have been able to purchase all our Christmas gifts. And we have enjoyed taking part in a number of Christmas charities like the Angel Tree program with Prison Fellowship Ministry and Operation Christmas Child through the Billy Graham Association. The one thing I enjoy the most about Christmas is the giving of gifts, thereby showing my love for another. God knew I was angry with our position in life and He helped me to understand that there is so much more to life than what we have or acquire. God showed His love for our family through the thoughtfulness of another so long ago.
"Every good gift, every perfect gift, comes from above, coming down from the Father who made the heavenly lights, in whose character there is no change at all." James 1:17
Sunday, November 25, 2012
Sunday, November 18, 2012
My friend, Miriam
"Two people are better off than one, for they can help each other succeed. If one person falls, the other can reach out and help ... " Ecclesiastes 4: 9-12 ...
Recently I had dinner with a long-time friend, Miriam. Our friendship has spanned almost 18 years and has withstood the test of time and distance. Catching-up while enjoying sushi and grilled tuna, Miriam and I marveled at how easily we slid into comfortable companionship. Truth be told, I consider Miriam to be my very best friend -- minus God, Rick and my sister. One might ask what is so special about this friendship? Let me tell you how our how friendship began and grew into a solid relationship built on nothing less than truth and love.
Dealing with breast cancer at the age of 36 was not an easy thing to do. For one, I had no one else my age going through chemotherapy, too. And because people often shy away from those dealing with cancer, I had lost a few very close friends as well. As I languished in bed, reeling from the effects of treatment, I asked God to please bring me a friend -- someone who would truly understand what I was going through.
I'm often told that God knows what we need and will provide for us in His timing. I desperately wanted a friend who would understand the pain and suffering I was feeling. But for the first six months of this new sort of life, no such friend surfaced and I wrestled with life as best I could.
Just one month after my first surgery, February 1996, on a cold and wintry Sunday, Rick and I decided to visit a new church. While settling our young children into Sunday school, one of the pastors told me of another young woman in their congregation going through breast cancer treatment like me. "Oh, could you please arrange for the two of to meet?" I implored. The young pastor promised to try to do just that. Soon thereafter I was given Miriam's phone number to call -- which I did. Weeks went by and I never heard from Miriam. In time I finished therapy and began trying to rebuild my strength and vitality.
In August 1996, the Kansas City Race for the Cure was held at Town Center Square. My surgeon opened her offices to host her special patients with a continental breakfast -- then everyone walked together to nearby Town Center Square for the race. While standing among mostly older women at my surgeon's office, I noticed one young woman standing alongside her husband. She looked to be close to my age. Being a super-extroverted personality, I quickly scooted to this couple. The four of us engaged in lively chatter and later walked most of the route together :)
As you might guess, the young woman was Miriam! The two of us learned that we shared more than just a diagnosis of breast cancer. We also shared the same breast cancer surgeon, plastic surgeon and same oncology doctor group. Miriam is just a few years younger than me, but we both had experienced this horrid disease in our 30's. She remembered my phone call, but was just too sick to return a call. Miriam, too, felt alone in her struggle against breast cancer.
In His perfect timing, God brought the two of us into a friendship that would help carry us through the next years with laughter and loving encouragement. Although we have very different lives -- Miriam is career-oriented and without children, while I mostly work at home and have three children -- God knew we would share more than just our outward lives together. We share common values and struggles, but also share our belief in Christ, as well. I am so grateful for this friend of mine.
Miriam and I were able to support and encourage one another through some very difficult years. We met often to share secrets with one another -- to talk about cancer, which is so important for some of us -- and to express our dismay with lingering side effects. When no one else really understood the pain I felt, Miriam did. To this day I meet with Miriam and enjoy the closeness that few others experience in life. We still talk about cancer but not as much as during those early years. Nowadays we talk about other things like our families and future career paths. Although my friend now lives in another state, we are able to travel to one another's cities at least yearly -- sometimes twice yearly.
This year we celebrate 18 years of living cancer free. It hasn't been an easy road, but in retrospect, it was easier just knowing someone else was walking through this war with me. Thank you, Miriam, for your unconditional love and support. I love you, dear friend.
"... A person standing alone can be attacked and defeated, but two can stand back-to-back and conquer ..." Ecclesiastes 4: 9-12 (continued from above)
Recently I had dinner with a long-time friend, Miriam. Our friendship has spanned almost 18 years and has withstood the test of time and distance. Catching-up while enjoying sushi and grilled tuna, Miriam and I marveled at how easily we slid into comfortable companionship. Truth be told, I consider Miriam to be my very best friend -- minus God, Rick and my sister. One might ask what is so special about this friendship? Let me tell you how our how friendship began and grew into a solid relationship built on nothing less than truth and love.
Dealing with breast cancer at the age of 36 was not an easy thing to do. For one, I had no one else my age going through chemotherapy, too. And because people often shy away from those dealing with cancer, I had lost a few very close friends as well. As I languished in bed, reeling from the effects of treatment, I asked God to please bring me a friend -- someone who would truly understand what I was going through.
I'm often told that God knows what we need and will provide for us in His timing. I desperately wanted a friend who would understand the pain and suffering I was feeling. But for the first six months of this new sort of life, no such friend surfaced and I wrestled with life as best I could.
Just one month after my first surgery, February 1996, on a cold and wintry Sunday, Rick and I decided to visit a new church. While settling our young children into Sunday school, one of the pastors told me of another young woman in their congregation going through breast cancer treatment like me. "Oh, could you please arrange for the two of to meet?" I implored. The young pastor promised to try to do just that. Soon thereafter I was given Miriam's phone number to call -- which I did. Weeks went by and I never heard from Miriam. In time I finished therapy and began trying to rebuild my strength and vitality.
In August 1996, the Kansas City Race for the Cure was held at Town Center Square. My surgeon opened her offices to host her special patients with a continental breakfast -- then everyone walked together to nearby Town Center Square for the race. While standing among mostly older women at my surgeon's office, I noticed one young woman standing alongside her husband. She looked to be close to my age. Being a super-extroverted personality, I quickly scooted to this couple. The four of us engaged in lively chatter and later walked most of the route together :)
As you might guess, the young woman was Miriam! The two of us learned that we shared more than just a diagnosis of breast cancer. We also shared the same breast cancer surgeon, plastic surgeon and same oncology doctor group. Miriam is just a few years younger than me, but we both had experienced this horrid disease in our 30's. She remembered my phone call, but was just too sick to return a call. Miriam, too, felt alone in her struggle against breast cancer.
In His perfect timing, God brought the two of us into a friendship that would help carry us through the next years with laughter and loving encouragement. Although we have very different lives -- Miriam is career-oriented and without children, while I mostly work at home and have three children -- God knew we would share more than just our outward lives together. We share common values and struggles, but also share our belief in Christ, as well. I am so grateful for this friend of mine.
Miriam and I were able to support and encourage one another through some very difficult years. We met often to share secrets with one another -- to talk about cancer, which is so important for some of us -- and to express our dismay with lingering side effects. When no one else really understood the pain I felt, Miriam did. To this day I meet with Miriam and enjoy the closeness that few others experience in life. We still talk about cancer but not as much as during those early years. Nowadays we talk about other things like our families and future career paths. Although my friend now lives in another state, we are able to travel to one another's cities at least yearly -- sometimes twice yearly.
This year we celebrate 18 years of living cancer free. It hasn't been an easy road, but in retrospect, it was easier just knowing someone else was walking through this war with me. Thank you, Miriam, for your unconditional love and support. I love you, dear friend.
"... A person standing alone can be attacked and defeated, but two can stand back-to-back and conquer ..." Ecclesiastes 4: 9-12 (continued from above)
Saturday, November 10, 2012
Jeremy's Journey
When people first learn that Jeremy has autism, I'm usually asked this question: "So, (hesitant pause) when did you first know that something was wrong?" When asked this question I'm immediately transported back in time to two specific events -- both of which are vivid and fresh in my mind. I can still remember the horror I felt as I watched these two scenes unfold and the ache in my heart for our darling little boy, who was not quite two years old.
My first memory occurred when Jeremy was twenty-two months old. He was such a happy little boy -- and usually responded to my playful teasing with a smile and a gleeful laugh. This time was different. We played one game whenever I changed his diaper or dressed him and played the "name the body part game". That morning, as I was dressing Jeremy for the day, I tickled his little belly and asked, "Where's your nose?" Nothing. Jeremy simply didn't respond. He seemed to be staring somewhere else - definitely not at me. "Where's your nose, little guy?" I asked once again. Again, no response. Hmmm, That's strange, I thought. Let's try another body part. "Where's your eyes?" then, "Where's your ears?" and so on. With mounting anxiety I continued to try to recapture my son's attention. Jeremy didn't seem to be paying much attention to me no matter what I said or did.
My second memory I have occurred on Jeremy's second birthday. We had invited several children over to help celebrate this special occasion. But when I put the birthday cake down in front of Jeremy, he didn't seem to understand. Without batting an eye Jeremy's little chubby hand flew into that birthday cake! In mere seconds he'd grabbed some cake and stuffed a piece into his tiny mouth! It dawned on me in an instant -- Jeremy didn't understand. In fact, he didn't seem to have a clue that this was his birthday! He'd ignored his guests and simply dived into the cake because it looked yummy.
My mind returned to Megan's second birthday just two years previously. She'd been so excited to have her friends over for games, cake and presents! "Oh, look at the beautiful presents!" she had exclaimed. "Here come my friends!" Jeremy hadn't given his guests much notice. And as I watched Jeremy eat his cake, it began to dawn on me that something really was wrong with our beautiful little boy.
By age four Jeremy still wasn't talking nor was he interacting much with others besides our immediate family. The professionals told us there was little hope for our beautiful son. No one expected Jeremy to talk or interact with others in a meaningful way. And he didn't really start to talk until much later in life. He was considered severely impacted by his autism.
This month Jeremy turns 21. As of now Jeremy understands that his birthday is a special day, indeed. He greets guests at the door, "How are you? ... (without missing a beat) I am fine!" Then we do something fun like bowling or roller skating before singing "Happy Birthday" and opening presents. Jeremy will tell you that his birthday means cake and presents. I'm not sure if he really understands the concept of age.
I wrestle with assorted emotions during this time. As the years pass by I sort of grieve because I know Jeremy will be in different places than peers his age. Don't misunderstand me -- I am very grateful that Jeremy has become who he is today. But I remember where we have come from -- "Where's your eyes, Jeremy?" and smile for now we've graduated to "Why do we need our eyes, Jeremy?"
And I'm reminded of just how much Jeremy has grown from those early lost years of one afflicted with autism. This year as we celebrate Jeremy's birthday, he will laugh with others, ice skate with others, eat cake with others and exuberantly open presents -- once more showing us his playful and interactive side! God has been faithful and good.
P.S. Jeremy has asked for this following birthday gifts: "I want a Peter Pan DVD, roller blades, a scooter and a ping pong table!" I find his birthday list just precious.
My first memory occurred when Jeremy was twenty-two months old. He was such a happy little boy -- and usually responded to my playful teasing with a smile and a gleeful laugh. This time was different. We played one game whenever I changed his diaper or dressed him and played the "name the body part game". That morning, as I was dressing Jeremy for the day, I tickled his little belly and asked, "Where's your nose?" Nothing. Jeremy simply didn't respond. He seemed to be staring somewhere else - definitely not at me. "Where's your nose, little guy?" I asked once again. Again, no response. Hmmm, That's strange, I thought. Let's try another body part. "Where's your eyes?" then, "Where's your ears?" and so on. With mounting anxiety I continued to try to recapture my son's attention. Jeremy didn't seem to be paying much attention to me no matter what I said or did.
My second memory I have occurred on Jeremy's second birthday. We had invited several children over to help celebrate this special occasion. But when I put the birthday cake down in front of Jeremy, he didn't seem to understand. Without batting an eye Jeremy's little chubby hand flew into that birthday cake! In mere seconds he'd grabbed some cake and stuffed a piece into his tiny mouth! It dawned on me in an instant -- Jeremy didn't understand. In fact, he didn't seem to have a clue that this was his birthday! He'd ignored his guests and simply dived into the cake because it looked yummy.
My mind returned to Megan's second birthday just two years previously. She'd been so excited to have her friends over for games, cake and presents! "Oh, look at the beautiful presents!" she had exclaimed. "Here come my friends!" Jeremy hadn't given his guests much notice. And as I watched Jeremy eat his cake, it began to dawn on me that something really was wrong with our beautiful little boy.
By age four Jeremy still wasn't talking nor was he interacting much with others besides our immediate family. The professionals told us there was little hope for our beautiful son. No one expected Jeremy to talk or interact with others in a meaningful way. And he didn't really start to talk until much later in life. He was considered severely impacted by his autism.
This month Jeremy turns 21. As of now Jeremy understands that his birthday is a special day, indeed. He greets guests at the door, "How are you? ... (without missing a beat) I am fine!" Then we do something fun like bowling or roller skating before singing "Happy Birthday" and opening presents. Jeremy will tell you that his birthday means cake and presents. I'm not sure if he really understands the concept of age.
I wrestle with assorted emotions during this time. As the years pass by I sort of grieve because I know Jeremy will be in different places than peers his age. Don't misunderstand me -- I am very grateful that Jeremy has become who he is today. But I remember where we have come from -- "Where's your eyes, Jeremy?" and smile for now we've graduated to "Why do we need our eyes, Jeremy?"
And I'm reminded of just how much Jeremy has grown from those early lost years of one afflicted with autism. This year as we celebrate Jeremy's birthday, he will laugh with others, ice skate with others, eat cake with others and exuberantly open presents -- once more showing us his playful and interactive side! God has been faithful and good.
P.S. Jeremy has asked for this following birthday gifts: "I want a Peter Pan DVD, roller blades, a scooter and a ping pong table!" I find his birthday list just precious.
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