A letter...

To the Sibling of a Child with Special Needs

You’re on my heart more than you know. I know sometimes you feel like your sibling gets all the attention and I don’t notice you, but it’s not true. Entire days go by that I ache because I am so tied up in dealing with the newest symptoms, medications, and endless consultations with specialists and therapists that I don’t have time to sit down and talk with you, listen to you, like I really want to.

I see the tears you cry when a new set of symptoms means seeing another specialist, and we don’t know how many times we’ll have to travel to get to an appointment there, how many years we’ll need check-ups with that particular specialty.

I see your frustration and sadness when you witness another meltdown, are told about another surgery, or have to endure your sibling being in the hospital yet again. I see your struggle to help out when you’re asked to in situations where your dad and I aren’t around and other adults ask you to step in when they don’t know what to do.

Just let me say this:

You’re a child. You’ve had to take on far too many “adult” responsibilities and grow up way too fast already. I’m already wondering if you’ll end up being the one responsible for your sibling after your daddy and I are gone, and how you will handle that. Please enjoy being a child and let me take the burdens I can remove from your shoulders. They’re far too heavy for you. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: When something happens and adults turn to you, do immediate damage control and send them to get us. You are not responsible for handling the situation alone.

You are loved more than you can imagine. I see you, I see your pain, and I see the sacrifices you make every day—to not rock the boat, to not cause us any trouble, and to help in every way possible. I love you for trying to be the “perfect” child and not cause your daddy and me more stress. Please see You’re a child. above and know that we don’t expect perfection. We don’t expect you to be able to avert every meltdown. We love you exactly as you are, mistakes and all.

I love who you’re becoming. Despite the frustration, anger, sadness, and other negative feelings you experience from time to time, I love who you’re becoming. I see your compassion, kindness, and sensitivity to others’ feelings. You are wise beyond your years. God is going to use the experiences that cause you the most pain now to continue developing character traits in you that will be invaluable to you both now and as an adult.

I love your love for your sibling. I am always amazed at how you are the first to defend your sibling when someone says something unkind. I love how you play and share life together. Although at times your hurt is deep, your love is deeper, and I am so grateful for that.

I’m sorry. For all the times you’ve felt neglected, unseen, unloved, or unwanted, I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I am making an effort to find ways to spend more alone time with you—both in little moments we can steal at home and in times we can go out together for a soft drink, meal, or to browse our favorite stores. Balancing everything gets difficult in certain seasons, and I am trying to get better at it.

You are amazing. And don’t you ever forget it.

I’m here for you. I love you every bit as much as your sibling, and I want you to know that I’m here for you too. We only get one chance at your childhood. Let’s put the mistakes of the past behind us and make the most of every moment!

Love always, Mom 

Adrian

Yesterday morning, we took a little drive, to go wish a friend (well actually Sam's friend, Adrian) Merry Christmas.

This is Adrian :

Adrian sells newspapers at an extremely busy intersection en route home from dropping Meghan at school and every schoolday morning, without fail, the second our car stops Adrian rushes up to the window and spends the next two to three light changes entertaining Sam by dancing, signing, clapping hands...you name it, he does it...as long as it gets a smile and some handclapping out of Sam. I can count on my one hand the number of days Adrian has not been at work, he's there whether its blazing hot or pouring with rain...and it's about the only part of our car journey during which Samuel does not moan and cry. Over the weekend we received a truly precious gift from a certain Knight and his Princess with an ever more precious message. Seeing as we seem to have been the object of many generous gestures lately, we wished to share our blessings with someone who is always smiling and friendly and keen to make others happy, so we went to share our gift with Adrian and thank him for the cherished contribution he makes to Sam's life. We'd be quite devastated if we had to face that intersection without Adrian as I am sure several other motorists would feel as Adrian's antics usually draw smiles from others as well (although there are the occasional frowns and disapproving looks).

The Overflow of the Heart.....

"For out of the overflow of the heart the mouth speaks."  (Matt 12:34)

So, if our heart is troubled then so are our words. This is why I often choose not to blog during particularly trying times but to rather be still for a while until, almost always, someone (usually uknowingly) puts everything into perspective again. Oh for sure when the problems are as annoying, but still relatively superficial, as self-righteous remarks made in a doctor's room or a derogatory comment made by a small boy lacking guidance and a good set of values, I cannot wait to pounce on the keyboard and vent my anger. But when, instead of anger, you are dealing with fear and downheartedness - emotions which are far more difficult to overcome - sometimes it takes a little longer to work through. Just as importantly, I don't want Sam's blog to become one neverending mash of melancholy filled with doom and gloom posts about how awful it can be to have a child with special needs.

If I had given daily reports about Sam's wellbeing over the past week, it would have been nothing as spectacular as near-death experiences or fatal diagnosis' or anything nearly as soap-opera-like as that. It would have been seemingly insignificant issues like the fact that when fetching Meghan from school one day, as one of her friends walked up to greet Sam with a lovely smile, she received a blow to the face in return. Or that one afternoon, while trying to collect Sam's medication from the chemist, he threw such violent, screaming tantrums that, with trying to co-ordinate holding on to my wallet, holding the meds and signing the cash slip, he almost threw himself completely out of my arms and onto the floor, amidst a good few "shames" from other customers and one smug dad who looked at me and then pointedly looked at his daughter of roughly the same age, who was sitting angel-like in the trolley, and gave her a kiss on the forehead as if to say "See, this is how it should be...". There would be mention of a generally aggressive, exceptionally frustrated and obviously unhappy little boy who has smiled seldom over the last few days while now making a habit of rocking on all fours while hitting his forehead into the head of his cot, the cupboard doors or even the safety gate.

Now I am so not the kind of person that likes surprises or guessing games and my close family will readily vouch for that after the number of times I ask them to tell me the endings of movies or the perhaps unanticipated reaction Chris gets when he tells me to just get in the car and when I ask where we're going, he says "You'll see..." or something to that effect. I don't do surprises...more importantly, I don't do the unknown. Not because I am that boring - although I do so *LOVE* boring and predictable...but because I want to always be absolutely 100% prepared. I want to be prepared for a bad/sad ending in a movie - I will still watch it, I just want to prepare myself. I want to be prepared for a "surprise" journey, so that I know what to take with, what to wear, the length of the journey, etc. And, perhaps the most important and most delicate matter in our lives at the moment, I want to be completely, utterly and unquestionably prepared for Sam...and I am not. Because I don't know how to ease his discomfort or pain, I don't know how to remedy his frustration at not being able to communicate and I don't know how to take away his sensory issues.

I am quite sure that one, or all, of these three things are responsible for where Sam is at the moment. I say that he has pain/discomfort because when I lie next to him at night while he tosses and literally thrashes himself around in the bed NON-STOP, he often takes my hand and presses it to his groin in the area where his two large cuts are from the last operation. I test his urine regularly, so I know for sure its not a bladder infection. I say frustration at not being able to communicate because when before he would make gentle gestures with his hand about something he wanted or somewhere he wanted to go, he now thrashes his little arm out angrily and grunts and moans or, if you are standing up or your back is to him, he will crawl up behind you and hit you...powerfully and aggressively. And I say sensory issues because of the constantly banging his head up against things and the fact that (with the exception of some progress in his hand defensiveness) there has been absolutely no improvement with regards to being able to sit him down on the floor without him getting scared, moving him around in the car, lying him back in the bath to wash his hair, etc.

Nothing has changed, while I sit and type this post, except the fact that I read two separate updates yesterday from other RTS moms about about how good life is for them right now (can't even remember if it was on FB or their actual blogs - have to resort to skimming for now)...the word "perfect" might even have been used. Both of these moms have four-year old little boys with RTS and while it was by no means a mind-blowing jolt into the reassuring realm of perspective, it did put my mind a little at ease that there will come a time, the Lord willing, when I can also make a similar statement.

For now, we keep going because we have to...although fantasising about a little village/town where EVERYONE living there either has their own special needs angel or is close family to or valuable source of support to a family with a special needs child, sure helps sometimes...a village where unacceptance, scorn, misconceptions, judgement and self-righteous are a forbidden law. A little village complete with a hospital and intervention centre filled to the brim with caring, compassionate and inspirations specialists, school and daycare centre, shopping centre, theme park, recreation centre complete with an undercover, sensory-pleasing swimming pool, SN-friendly churches and restaurants...I could go on and on... "Oh Happy Days...Oh Happy Days"

Random pics :

Meg had her athletics day on Friday. I had originally planned on taking Sam with me, but due to his rather unsocial behaviour lately decided not to - thank goodness! The activities were eventually rained out due to rather miserable weather. Sam would have loved seeing the 'Linka Smurfs though. Luckily over the past couple of weeks Meghan has done several (a day) renditions of each and every cheerleading song they were going to be signing so we, Sam included, possibly know the actions better than what the smurfs did.

Meg, Kaylee and Jenna moments before they sprung away with their high jump (pardon the pun).

A pic I posted on FB on Sunday of Sam reading to his teddies!

Sam trying to show of his iPadding abilities...I left him (albeit surrounded with cushions and plonkey's as one would a 5 month old baby) with Old Macdonal E-I-E-I-Oing on his iPad and next thing he'd found his way to the photo's I'd used for the iComm app...

 

Something really positive that happened this morning. While feeding Sam, who was holding his favourite number 5, he slowly and deliberately placed 5 into his bowl of Kreemy Meal. Ordinarily this would not be reason for excitement, unless you are dealing with a little boy who is extremely sensory defensive in his hands. He then took 5 back out again, messed with his other hand in the little bit of porridge that had landed on his tray and continued to hold 5, although rather gingerly between two fingers, while he carried on playing!

Definite progress!

 

HAPPY RESURRECTION SUNDAY!

"On the evening of the first day of the week, when the disciples were together,
with the doors locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood amongst them and said,
"Peace be with you!""

PEARLY BEACH...HERE WE COME!

It is Sammy's Granny's birthday today - HAPPY BIRTHDAY GRANNY/MOM!

As mentioned earlier this week (or somewhere roundabout there - not great at time-keeping lately), my mom, aunt and uncle were meant to come down to Cape Town for a visit, however, their plans were unfortunately changed which was quite disappointing as Sammy last saw his Granny in July and, with his (possibly not - more about this later) upcoming surgery, we are spending the holidays at home this year in order to stay near to a hospital, just in case. We are also not sure how much discomfort Sam will be in. So, we decided at the last minute, that we are going to attempt a day-trip to Pearly Beach tomorrow (which means 2.5 hours there and 2.5 hours back...all in one day!). I am hoping that Sam will be okay with the lengthy travelling as, particularly at the moment, we sometimes wait for approximately an hour outside Meg's school in the afternoon waiting for her to come out and he manages quite well with this, even though the car is stationary. At the moment Meg's school is busy with year-end exams which means that the normally staggered finishing times for the various grades, is now converted to the same closing time for the entire school which means a traffic nightmare trying to find parking anytime from forty-five minutes before the bell goes or having to walk a good couple of km's to your car if you don't get there early enough. Thank goodness this is only a once-a-year procedure.

Back to the surgery - Sam's neurosurgeon is currently overseas, where he's been since mid-October. I have been battling to confirm with his office a time and venue for our appointment with him on Monday and so, at this moment, have no actual idea as to whether we are even going to get to see him as he only returns to SA on Sunday, leaving not much time to finalise an appointment. Can only wait and see how Monday pans out.

As for our Smurf - Sam's actually had two really good days (we won't mention the three days prior to that - PHEW!) He had a really good physio session on Wednesday morning (not sure if this is what changed his mood, although I doubt it) and, although he isn't quite near mastering it yet, is slowly but surely starting to get some idea of this whole much-ado-about-nothing crawling stuff we keep trying to ram into him. I don't know if I posted about it, but Sam started sitting properly a couple of weeks ago...I seriously need to sit down one day and read this blog so I actually know whether I am coming or going - it's not like I have an excuse not to have done it yet with all the free time I have during the day/night to sit down and relax, have a cup of (even just slightly) warm tea and spend a good hour or two in front of the pc. Moving along, so Sam showed some great improvement with his "crawling" on Wednesday, although whereas before it was his legs he was battling to co-ordinate, he now moves them quite well but appears to have very poor strength in his arms and, especially, his shoulders. Heidi has thus given strict instructions to completely limit Sam's "walking" which I thought he was really going to cause havoc about, but its actually been not too bad...we spend more time sitting and playing on the carpet and every now and again I just flip him over onto his hands and knees and we practice a little. Whatever has been bugging him over the past few days also seems to have let up a bit - I don't know if its just coincidental, but the Movicol has kicked in nicely so not sure if his constipation issues were the main problem.

We've also decided that we need to get Sam to an OT sooner rather than later, as his paed suggested several months ago. Although it eased up for short while, Sam's Moro Reflex is conspiring with his reflux with the whole comeback performance thing - so, seeing as its now well over a year since this reflex should have subsided, I think its become quite essential that we have him assessed by an OT who, preferably, deals with not only the sensory integration issues but the reflex integration problems as well. First going to wait and see what happens on Monday before going ahead and making any appointments. Speaking of the reflux though, it hasn't reared its ugly head in almost a week now....well, except for a very brief episode when giving Sam his supper tonight - Yay! I so love not having to avoid showers of vomit cascading all the way down my shoulder and back at least once or twice a day. I don't even cringe anymore, before I would still try and out-maneuver the vomit to try and have most of it land on our (yes) newly replaced carpets but I don't even bother anymore. Hey - at least I can throw my clothes in the wash!

Overall, the week has ended on a high note with our Smurf being pretty calm and easygoing...let's just hope this continues into tomorrow's trip :-) As for the rest of the clan - same old, same old....! We've had some pretty warm days which of course Meghan was ecstatic about as I told her she could only start swimming once the temps started hitting the 30's (she's been asking to swim for like the last month or so already). So, on Wednesday I gave in........

Meghan (in full kit) was at first very enthusiastic about how warm the water felt,

until she put more than just her feet in the water! The water is still freezing, having only had a handful of really summery days so far. Sam splashed around in a whole 5mm of water in his little inflatable pool, but couldn't take a pic as I had to sit next to the pool keeping an eye on him. Next time.

And of course, Summer means not only swimming, but also chocolate ice-cream

(Okay, so does Autumn....and Spring.....well, and Winter too).

"Truly, the greater a Christian is, the more he realises his dependence on the prayers of others.  Paul knew full well the power that was against him and he did not hesitate to ask for the prayers of the church in Ephesus.

Notice also that his request for prayer was clear and specific. When you ask someone to pray for you, be equally specific. Don't just say "Pray for me," but "Pray for me that..." 

Selwyn Hughes

Locked in my Heart

Over the past almost-eighteen months there have been so very many people who have left an everlasting footprint on our journey's path...some are family members, some are old friends, some are new friends, some are medical staff who have gone over and beyond what their "job" simply requires them to do to show that they truly care about Sam. All these people are so important to us - I have blogged about this before :) Besides the obvious blessing of having these people in our lives, is that we are able to tell them how special they are to us.

And then there are some who have unknowingly touched my heart :- About two weeks ago while whirlwinding through the shops, as has become the norm to accommodate Sam, I noticed a mom and a gran with what looked like about a seven-year old beautiful little girl with long brown hair tied in two pretty little bows, white leggings, a dark-pink top and super-rosy cheeks. Mom was looking slightly tense while she made an attempt to get her daughter to try on a pair of white shoes but nothing seemed out of the "norm" other than that the little girl seemed to have quite a generous helping of energy. A few minutes on while heading towards the till to pay, mom and daugther came whizzing past us helter-skelter through the aisles while in the midst of a terrible struggle to win control over the trolley which Jenna (the little girl) was trying excitedly to maneuver away from mom, completely caught up in her own little world totally oblivious to the commotion she was causing. I know her name was "Jenna" because as the couple flew past us, amongst appalled stares from other shoppers, I caught a glimpse of the desperately embarrassed look in mom's eyes while she cried in frustration "Jenna, I am going to smack you!" As we recovered from the near head-on collision that would have involved Chris and one Woollies trolley I turned around and noticed that the little girl was wearing a diaper and all of a sudden felt like I really had been hit by a trolley...or a lorry for that matter! And instantly my heart went out to mom and Jenna and I wanted to turn around and find them and tell mom it was all okay - not all the shoppers were rambling around wondering what kind of a mother she was for allowing her child to be so uncontrollable or mentally reaffirming what course of disciplinary action they would have bestowed upon poor Jenna...I wanted to tell her that we understood, but she was gone. Meg and I walked up and done the aisles while Chris stood in the queue but they had instantly disappeared.

Friday's story is a little more joyful...again, after zooting through the shop on Friday afternoon for wrapping paper for Mattie's and Payton's birthday pressies, we were walking up and down trying to assess which queue was the shortest. After Meg and I had finally resigned ourselves to the fact that the queue Chris was already in was indeed the shortest at that time, we had to "excuse me please" through the other shoppers which had since joined Chris' queue. After my last "excuse me please" to the couple directly behind Chris I went to stand in front of them with Sam on my arm. The woman's face instantly lit up in delight as she started laughing out loud then, after shoving her handbag into her husband's hands, snatched Sam from me while exclaiming to her hubby how cute Sam is, told him to look at Sam's hair, at how Sam was laughing at her....and so on and so on. Anyway, this went on literally the whole time until it was our time to pay, amidst amused shoppers and just before we turned to leave she asked how old Samuel was (yes - she already knew his name by then) and when I told her & after she commented about how tiny he is, I explained very briefly about RTS and she told us how that just made him even more special than he already is and then she told us that she has Turner's Syndrome and that she cannot have children. She gave both Sam and I a hug goodbye and as we turned to leave, exclaimed loudly to Sam that she loves him.  Once in the car getting ready to leave the parking lot I told an unconvinced Chris that we should go find them (amongst the three hundred odd cars parked there) and give them our contact details "just for sommer" (a South African term meaning "just because") but finally sanity prevailed (Hey, there's a first time for everything!) Still, deep down I wish I HAD stalked them down like a looney because the nine or ten minutes which that beautiful, amazing young woman spent in our lives has left an incredible impression and I really wanted her to know that. But now, all I can do is pray that, with the help of our awesome God, that she will one day become a mom.

There have been others, many others, whose compassion and empathy you can truly "feel" even with the briefest of meetings, as they will tell you how wonderful Sam is and wish us strength and grace. So while I know we've still to really do our "time" with people who will be more judgemental than understanding, I also know that in this particular part of the world, in this particular time there are so so many wonderful, caring people just wandering around waiting to make your day :-)

Mountains to Molehills

I have not had the privilege of a complete Sunday church service for quite some time. For at least the past two months almost every service has been spent walking Sam up and down the foyer while trying to grasp snippets of sermon through the doors. So, this past Sunday, Chris offered to walk Sam outside while I got to listen to our Pastor - and it was the perfect Sunday to be present. The service was the second of a two-part sermon, largely about Psalm 34 ("I will extol the Lord at all times,...") and, as part of the service, our Pastor read an excerpt from the biography of James Hudson Taylor. Taylor writes while his young daughter, Grace, literally lay dying on a couch from meningitis just metres away from him...it is the most heartbreaking and emotional writing, but Taylor remains at all times loyal and faithful to his Lord. Our minister struggled on several occasions to keep control of his own emotions which I found so amazing, that he allowed his own vulnerability to be seen by his congregation.

(James Hudson Taylor 1832 - 1905, was a British Protestant Christian who spent 51 years in China as a missionary. In his lifetime, he saw not only the passing of his daughter Grace but, from what I remember, at least two/three other children - including a son called Samuel - and then of his wife, Maria, whose death almost completely devastated him.)

Sam has been particularly fussy over the past few days...I first thought he might be getting ill again, but by the weekend noticed that in addition to the new tooth I saw cutting through last week he also has a set of molars cutting through as well (that's like ten teeth in four months - easy does it Sam). He is definitely a little mucousy though and his gag reflex seems to be back in full force, so when I fed him his lunch this afternoon he started coughing and after spluttering out several mouthfulls, next thing up came his previous bottle and all his food. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe again...wipe up vomit, change Sam, change me.....try again. Second attempt at lunch stayed down. Had another bottle and some tea later. Come supper time (where I pureed PUREED food just to make sure there were no gag-triggers)...and up came semi-digested milk, tea and freshly swallowed supper. Breathe. Breathe. Fight back tears. Breathe. Fight back tears. Wipe up vomit (this time with Chris's help). Change. Try again. Oh my gosh - isn't it funny how quickly we take progress and improvement for granted? Thankfully, before I could surrender myself to a full-blown sobbing, Sam (obviously in an attempt to redeem himself) started babbling in his heart-melting way and threw in a spectacular attemp at clapping his hands. As I trudged up the stairs to prepare Sam's bath, feeling all sorry for myself I tried some self-therapy....Really woman! Build a bridge! A couple of months ago it was more the daily norm for his milk and the tiny bit of solids he was eating then, to come up than stay in his tummy and after one day's vomiting you're moping around like it's the end of the world. Felt a little better, not much. (Note to self - fire therapist, she's just no darn good). Then, while the tsunami that is Sam, was having his bath (together with our bed, the floor, the curtains, the neighbour's three houses down) I thought about old Hudson Taylor and the divine strength of his faith and my mountain became a molehill.

Still my rattiness is not completely unjustified...I am hoping that Sam is not getting ill as it is Sam's RTS sister, Payton's first birthday party on Saturday morning and we have been looking forward to our three RTS angels (Sam, Payton & Mattie) all being together for the first time, for months, as well as finally meeting Mattie's baby brother, Nic, for the first time!

Sam had an appointment with the urologist Prof F referred us to on Wednesday, Dr J. He said the normal procedure to diagnose a neuropathic/genic bladder (where they insert a catheter into the bladder, inject a dye and then take several x-rays over a 45min period) is not always conclusive in such a small baby and, as the procedure is pretty uncomfortable and would require Sam to be put under anaesthetic, he was not certain if this is the route to go, although he does appreciate that Prof F needs a "benchmark" from which to monitor Sam's bladder after the tethered spinal cord surgery, in order to determine whether the bladder's condition is improving or deteriorating. So, as Prof F is currently overseas, Dr J has sent him an email to which we are hoping he will reply before Sam's next appointment with him on 22 November.

"All our difficulties are only platforms for the manifestations of His grace, power and love"
James Hudson Taylor

UNDERSTANDING SUFFERING.....FROM A CHILD'S POINT OF VIEW

On Thursday I was told a story by a beautiful young woman who, up until then, I was casually acquainted with but who I now call friend. M opened up her heart to me and told me about the precious baby girl she lost as a result of Trisomy 13/Patau Syndrome. I knew very little, if anything, about these three devastating disorders/syndromes (Trisomy 13, 15 and 18) and did not even know M during this unbelievably sad time, but her pain still seems so fresh and raw. She is such an incredibly brave Mommy, finding the strength to carry on taking care of her two older children who desperately require her love and care. M's story though has a lovely ending, in the eyes of a precious little boy called Rian who is just weeks younger than our Smurf. On Friday I heard from a dear friend and endless source of support that her beautiful family is, at this very moment, treading frantically in a pool of unknown as they wait, with unfaultering faith and trust, to find out whether their little angel is going to be okay. This evening, while chatting to Meg, I opened up Sam's blog to type a post (the details of which I can truthfully not remember) and one of the first post's I saw on the right-hand side was from Jessica's blog about an amazing little girl called Mallorie who only yesterday succumbed to pneumonia, after an extremely courageous and seemingly endless battle with her health. Mallorie had also been diagnosed with the very disorder I had only three days ago learnt about (http://www.malmalrose.blogspot.com). Of course, Meghan aka "Eagle-Eye" caught the very first line of the blog instantly and immediately wanted to know if Mallorie had RTS. She then commented that Sam has also had pneumonia and, being the ever-anxious little girl that some of you know, you could see that little mind of hers kick into "worry mode" as it calculated that pneumonia + child = death! I carefully explained to her that firstly most children that get pneumonia recover extremely well but that sometimes, like with "special needs" children or children with cancer, AIDS, etc, their bodies have had to endure so many illnesses and conditions that their immune systems are just too weak to help heal their bodies. She still looked panic-stricken so then told her that little Mallorie did not have RTS...and that seemed to reassure her, whether rightfully so or not. Her next inevitable question was (as she has asked me this before) "Why do children get RTS and cancer and other sicknesses?" I have obviously not completely satisfied her mind with my previous answers, but its a remarkably difficult concept to explain to a child. I ran through pretty much the same explanation I gave her the last time, which was that God in no way creates children with special needs/cancer/illness, etc but that, we believe, the Devil will try anything to turn as many people away from God as he can, by doing whatever he can, and that sometimes God allows these things to happen so that we can turn to Him and pray more and become closer to Him. Also, sometimes, not only do we become closer to God, but we learn how to comfort others and help others who are going through the same thing as us. But, alas, even before I finished, I could see the same old expression that said that that just isn't a good enough reason in her mind. So, if anyone out there has any suggestions/advice on how they have explained this to their children, I would be ever so grateful. I don't want her to start losing her fresh, untainted adoration for her God and so, eagerly look for the right words to answer her question. The question of why God allows suffering is surely one of the most asked questions in the Christian community...I know I've asked it a good two or three (million) times! Just this morning after church ("church" still meaning me and Sam patrolling the foyer throughout the duration of the service) I said to someone that I honestly don't know how those who have no faith to fall back on, regardless of how fragile it might be, endure their own challenges and tribulations. And, speaking from personal experience, I have tried "going it alone" and it is simply impossible. Make no mistake, having at least a smidge of faith and trust in Him, certainly does not make one's pain or hardships any less formidable...it does, however, prevent it from consuming you as there is an unexplainable and, often, unexpected strength that helps you endure your trials.

FORGIVING A SPECTACLE

First, for some news on our smurf - we are still drowning in mucous. Yip, I know that's pretty graphic, but trust me, it really is THAT bad. And of course, as if we needed any more triggers, therapy today was a dream...or would that be a nightmare...with poor Heidi being vomitted on not once, but twice by our almost-always hysterical Sam. So, I am afraid, our chances of making it to Stilbaai are looking slimmer...although Meg is praying like crazy (I am not too sure that there isn't some self-serving purpose in all this praying). She "packs" for Stilbaai every day....and when she is finished packing and re-packing, then she makes a list of what all she has packed for when she re-packs it again the next day in case she forgets what she packed the previous time (it's exhausting just thinking about it). So far her Build-a-Bear has four bags which is going to be interesting as Chris has told her we are all only allowed one bag each. Let's hope she can do some SERIOUS body-squeezing if she's going to have to share Tiffany's (the BAB) clothes.



When Meg's got home from school yesterday, instead of changing out of her uniform into casuals, she decided to put on her pj's....yes, in the middle of the day! A short while later I asked her if she'd like to take a walk down to the post box to post a letter she had written to her best-friend Danielle, who has recently moved to another city. Of course she was eager to go, but not so eager to get out of her pyjamas....she was comfortable like that, after all, and if she didn't have a problem with it, why should I? The second we started heading towards the gate, Max started jumping around and getting all excited, obviously presuming (as he always does) that he was going with...so, we asked Luke to put on his lead (Max's, not Luke's) and come with us. Well, as you can see from the pic, Luke was far from impressed first with Meghan's daytime apparel and secondly because Max literally stops every 5 metres, either to rest (he isn't the fittest dog around) or to mark that particular section of sidewalk. Talk about creating a spectacle - one gentleman completely stopped in his driveway and had a good laugh, although I can't say at who....my pyjama-clad daughter, my exasperated son....or just simply at Max who rather resembles a miniature bear.

On a more serious note, the concept of forgiveness has really been clouding my mind lately. Over the past couple of weeks there have been several occasions when either I or someone in my family has been "hurt" or I have heard a story or read a blog about an insensitive act causing pain/emotional trauma to someone. And I know the theory surrounding it all, which is that because we are blessed with God's forgiveness when we ourselves have done wrong, we are in turn to forgive those who have done us wrong. There are times when this is something we do without even giving it a second thought, but there are other times when putting that theory into practice is a whole lot easier said than done, especially when you don't see any remorse in your "offender" and, even worse, you know for sure that if they had the opportunity to know that their actions would hurt you, they would still go ahead and do it anyway. When I least expected some clarification on how to actually achieve forgiveness, last night I read something out of a book Meghan and I read together ("Time For Two" by Danila Liebenberg). "Life offers no guarantee against pain. Pain is often caused by people who hurt you. As soon as you are hurt, you have a choice to either forgive this person or to wait in bitterness until that person receives his due." And then she goes on to suggest the following steps in order to achieve forgiveness :

"Admit to yourself what has happened to you, what it has done to you and how it is still affecting you. Do not be alarmed and draw away from how you really feel. Ultimately the truth sets you free. Pray that God will help you to forgive. Ask God's help to pray for the person/s by name. Forgive the person in prayer and in thought. Allow your pain to make you aware of how pain can affect others.

True forgiveness is an active deed. Forgiveness is not an instant trip or an instant cure. It could take you months, even years. Take the steps towards forgiveness at your own pace. Walk the long road of forgiveness to the end, DO NOT TURN AWAY."

Danila's suggested approach on achieving forgivess by literally breaking the emotions down to their core by having to admit that that person hurt you, and the surrendering of pride that sometimes goes with being able to admit it (ie, I can't believe that I allowed myself to be hurt by THAT particular person) and then allowing yourself to heal at your own pace, really encouraged me to make a greater effort at being able to forgive. Sometimes forgiveness is "romanticised" by the idea of simply going through the motions of "forgive and forget" and expecting a wonderful peace to befall you, without actually having searched your heart and admitting to yourself exactly how you were affected by the wrongdoing. So here's to pursuing true forgiveness!

PERCEPTION

“The world can be a forbidding place for children, especially if they feel that they somehow don’t measure up. A relatively minor difficulty can easily develop into a crisis of confidence, particularly when a child must listen to constant reminders of his or her deficiencies.”

“I was sustained, though I wasn’t fully conscious of it at the time, by the faith I had developed through my parents’ teaching and example. I believed in a loving God who valued me for the person I was, who – even though I was unworthy – sent His Son to die for me.”

“If your children understand in their hearts that the Creator of the universe loves them personally and has sacrificed His own Son on their behalf, they will enjoy a much healthier self-concept and be far better equipped…”

“As your children grow, any deviation from the norm – in height, weight, hairstyle, skin colour, voice, etc – will be pointed out by their peers and used to embarrass them. Sometimes even adults, who should know better, will play this cruel game. It is your job as parents to counteract these hurtful comments with love. Encourage your children. Remind them of their strong qualities and abilities. Above all, employ Scripture passages such as Luke 16:15 to teach your kids that the misguided values of man are often the very opposite of the values of God : For what is highly esteemed among men is an abomination in the sight of God”

(extracts : James Dobson)

“God does not judge by external appearance…” (Galatians 2:6)

“You created my inmost being, you knit me together in my mother’s womb”
(Psalm 139:13)

Meghan’s Contribution :

“Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.”(Hebrews 11:1)