Reviewing: Laugh Out Loud Pocket Doodles for Girls

Laugh Out Loud Pocket Doodles for Girls

By Rob Elliott (author) and Jonny Hawkins (illustrator)

Since this book recently available from Revell is meant for girls under 12, I turned it over to one of my three girls who fits that age.  Well, the truth is I turned it over to all of them, but the middle one claimed it as hers and never looked back.  I told her she’d have to blog her review of it since she stole it.  Even that didn’t make her give it up.  So she’s next to me on the sofa—I’m merely the typist here and only because I’m faster.

(From Megan, age 7)

This book is so funny!  I like this book because it fits me—because I’m crazy, and it is too.  There are crazy jokes like “What’s a wolf’s favorite book?”  (The answer is “Little Howl on the Prairie.”)  It isn’t just jokes either.  There are riddles and doodles you can finish and color.  It means a lot to a girl who likes to have fun.

(From Mom, age older than 7)

Meg LOVED this book.  As soon as she opened it she was cracking up at the jokes and making us laugh with them too.  She is also an artsy girl, and the doodles are fun for her.  They also get her mind going.  It’s hard to imagine her being bored with this book in her hand on a long car ride or a rainy day. 

Revell and Amazon note Laugh Out Loud Pocket Doodles for Girls is meant for girls ages 9-12.  My daughter is obviously 7, and she loves it.  Some of the jokes go over her head but not many.  I would say you could expand down a few years to include the 2^nd and 3^rd graders in your life as well.  This book is a great alternative to the “I’m bored—can I play on a screen” chorus of summer.


I received this book free from Revell through the Revell Reads Blog Tour Program in exchange for my honest review.  The views I have expressed are my own, and I was not required to write a positive response.

Reviewing: Buried Secrets

Buried Secrets
by Irene Hannon

Buried Secrets is the first in Irene Hannon’s new series about the three McGregor brothers, all members of elite military branches.  Mac McGregor, the oldest brother, has stepped down from life as a Navy SEAL and is easing into a new role as a county detective.  Similarly, Lisa Grant is ready for a quieter existence than what she experienced as a detective in Chicago’s homicide division.  She is now the chief of police in a small town in Missouri.  When human bones are unearthed, Lisa’s and Mac’s paths cross as they partner to solve the decades-old mystery.

The premise of Buried Secrets was very promising to me.  I enjoy detective stories—I like to see how the detectives interact with each other, how the evidence is discovered and the clues are planted, and how the good guys take down the bad guys.  This is a romantic suspense, however, so the crime and its solving take a backseat to the romantic sparks flying between Mac and Lisa.  As each chapter unfolds, Hannon moves from a third person focus on Mac to a third person focus on Lisa.  This allows a glimpse inside Mac’s head and Lisa’s—the dual focus can be appealing to people who enjoy romances and like to see how men think (though, written by a woman it’s hard to know if this is actually how men think). 

It was entertaining enough.  Since I prefer my mysteries with a side of romance rather than the other way around, it took me a while to get into the book.  I had to slog through the mutual attraction and the “we can’t be together because we work together” until I got to the meat of the mystery.  Once I was there, I really enjoyed the way Hannon broke it down.  Because of the prologue, we never truly wonder who buried the bones.  In a way that made the story interesting—instead of trying to guess who did it, I got to wonder how they would be caught, and I got to enjoy that process.  For lovers of romantic suspense, I can see that this is a well-written book and would recommend it for them.  For lovers of crime fiction, it’s probably worth the read as long as you don’t mind romance in the form of lingering looks, fingers accidentally brushing, and racing hearts.

Disclosure: I received this book free from Revell through the Revell Reads (http://bakerpublishinggroup.com/revell/revell-reads) program. The opinions I have expressed are my own, and I was not required to write a positive review. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255 http://www.access.gpo.gov/nara/cfr/waisidx_03/16cfr255_03.html.

Reviewing: A Glorious Dark

A Glorious Dark: Finding Hope in the Tension Between Belief and Experience
A.J. Swoboda

When I read a book, be it fiction or nonfiction, and I come across something that strikes me—a turn of phrase or an important point—I fold the corner of the page over, marking that spot.  Then, when I’m finished with the book, I go back to that page, reread it, and see if something strikes me again.  If it does, I must have really meant it, and I underline it. 

In A Glorious Dark, I had 23 pages folded over.  In a 15-chapter book.  And I almost skipped the folding over and went straight to the underlining.

A.J. Swoboda has a way with words.  He mixes humor with heartfelt vulnerability and thought-provoking seriousness, and he does it all against a backdrop of Good Friday, Easter Sunday, and the in-between Saturday. 

It has been said, “It’s Friday, but Sunday is coming.”  That is almost always spoken to move us quickly from the trauma, the sadness, the fear of Jesus’ death and into the celebration of His resurrection.  And Swoboda does start with Good Friday.  He starts with Jesus’ death, and he asks us to sit there in the numbness of it.  But then he doesn’t rush from that into the joy and celebration.  He calls us to pause and fully enter in to Saturday first.  Saturday, when Jesus had been killed and was dead in the tomb.  Saturday, when nobody knew Sunday was coming.  Saturday, when it seems like my life is falling apart, and I can’t even find a friend let alone God.  Saturday, where we live a good portion of our lives.  Saturday, where Jesus may have lain dead in a tomb but, just like a river in the winter, there is a glorious dark underneath.

I have truly never read a book like this.  It is with regret that I can only recommend A Glorious Dark to anyone who reads this review, and I can’t actually go out and buy a copy for every one of my friends, my family members, and people I don’t even know very well.


 Disclosure: I received this book free from Baker Books through the Baker Books Bloggers www.bakerbooks.com/bakerbooksbloggers program. The opinions I have expressed are my own, and I was not required to write a positive review. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255 http://www.access.gpo.gov/nara/cfr/waisidx_03/16cfr255_03.html.

Reviewing: The A to Z Guide to Bible Signs & Symbols

The A to Z Guide to Bible Signs & Symbols: Understanding Their Meaning and Significance
by Neil Wilson and Nancy Ryken Taylor

The subtitle of this book is "Understanding Their Meaning and Significance," and therein lies the beauty of this book. It is certainly not the easiest book to just pick up and read, from page 1 through the end, but I think it is an important book for every Christian's shelf.

Very few of us have the calling to attend seminary (or the desire to sit and read commentaries), so our understanding of the meaning and significance of the signs and symbols in the Bible is limited to sermons presented by our pastors who have done the studying. And, because there is so much to get from those Sunday or midweek sermons, we run short on time to truly soak in the significance of a symbol or a sign found scattered throughout the Bible. That leaves most of us with little to no knowledge of what was packed into the Scripture--things that will enrich not only our understanding of God's word for us but also our faith.

Enter The A to Z Guide to Bible Signs & Symbols. Neil Wilson and Nancy Ryken Taylor have compiled a user-friendly resource rich with examples and references from the Old Testament to the New Testament. From the cross to darkness to quail to wind--and everything in between--Wilson and Ryken Taylor break down the sign or the symbol, explain its significance (either positive or negative), and challenge the believer to learn from its inclusion. I'm thrilled to have this reference on my bookshelf to enhance my personal devotions, and I recommend it for everyone who wants to dig a bit deeper.

Disclosure: I received this book free from Baker Books through the Baker Books Bloggerswww.bakerbooks.com/bakerbooksbloggers program. The opinions I have expressed are my own, and I was not required to write a positive review. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255.

Reviewing: 30 Events That Shaped the Church

30 Events That Shaped the Church: Learning from Scandal, Intrigue, War, and Revival
by Alton Gansky

How can one not eagerly pick up a book with a subtitle like that?!  I love to learn from scandal and intrigue!  I'm happy to report that Gansky's book did not disappoint.  There was scandal and intrigue and war and revival . . . and a lot in between.

I can't even imagine how many years Gansky spent researching the 30 events he chose to include in this book, but each hour is obvious.  While this book was interesting and a fairly quick read, it could certainly serve as a starting point for further research into any of the events he mentioned.  In fact, I often thought, "If my kids ever need to write about the history of the church, this is the perfect primer for them."  From obvious events like Pentecost to the less obvious "Rise of the Neo-Evangelicals," every one of the 30 chapters can stand alone while also flowing from one to the next in a cohesive timeline.  Gansky often refers back to another chapter as he's explaining a new event.  Then, in the end, he ties the rise of atheism back to the birth of the church and offers hope that we can again come through these current days stronger and more unified.

Through this journey from AD 30 to the present day I found my faith sharpened and reaffirmed.  It was fun to read about the birth of Protestantism and see where the church I love today--and the Church I love today--got its start and has been forced to change and grow in order to stay alive . . . and where it refused to compromise.  This book is a great journey for the seasoned follower of Christ, the new believer, and everyone in between.  I think it would also be great for an adult Sunday School as it would spur conversation and a critical look at where we were, where are now, and where we need to go.


Disclosure: I received this book free from Baker Books through the Baker Books Bloggers program.  The opinions I have expressed are my own, and I was not required to write a positive review.  I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255.

Reviewing: The Crimson Cord

The Crimson Cord: Rahab's Story
by Jill Eileen Smith

The concept for this book is an interesting one.  It is a deeper look at the story of Rahab.  She merits only a few verses in the Bible but also earns a spot in Jesus' lineage . . . so what is her story?  Obviously we can't know for sure.  So Jill Eileen Smith imagines a tale for her--how did she become a prostitute, what was that life like for her, how did she come to know the Israelite spies and save them, and how did she end up married to an Israelite and the great-great (several times) grandmother of Jesus?

It's always fun to speculate and add meat to stories with few details and eternal impact.  So the concept is interesting.  Unfortunately, I found the delivery to be lacking.  Smith does a decent enough job creating sympathy for Rahab.  She also creates multidimensional characters in Salmon, Rahab's younger sister, and Joshua and his wife, Eliana.  Beyond that, Smith asks the reader to suspend disbelief a little more than is fair.  She uses various stories from different parts of the Bible and builds them into Rahab's story.  Because the Bible doesn't put them there it is distracting to have them and other random lines from Scripture tucked into places where they don't belong.  Rahab's transition from a prostitute into a follower of Adonai borders on realistic but falls flat in the end, as does her official entrance into such a holy family tree.

One final note.  Because these stories take us into a time we can only otherwise read about in our Bibles, they invite us to witness events that have built the foundation of our faith.  To that end, there was one line that jumped out at me and made this otherwise flat story worth my time.  Seeing these events come to life--even in an unbelievable, disappointing, and at times distracting way--serves as a reminder that through all the events of our lives God is worth trusting.  As Rahab herself reasons: ". . . If Israel truly gained victory over the warriors of Jericho . . . there was no reason to doubt a God who could part the Red Sea."


Disclosure: I received this book free from Revell through the Revell Reads program. The opinions I have expressed are my own, and I was not required to write a positive review. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255.

The Ultimate Cheat

We've been on sort of a hardcore diet for the past week.  I don't actually prescribe to dieting per se.  I believe that for weight loss to be sustainable it needs to be a lifestyle change.  I also don't believe losing weight should be the end goal.  That needs to be "healthy," and healthy comes in all shapes and sizes.

At the same time, healthy for me will mean, in part, losing weight.  Now, I know the theory behind losing weight and getting healthy: eat less (of the crappy food and oversized portions), eat more (of the right things), and move more (whether it's walking or running).

I get all that.

But, like many things (and many people), I struggle to put that theory in action.  So we came across The Doctor's Diet.  Dr. Travis Stork (yes, from The Doctors on TV, but also an ER doc at VanderBilt) put his own eating plan down on paper--it's high in veggies and healthy proteins and healthy carbs, and low in all those other things that taste great but make us gain weight, have low energy, and generally feel like junk.  Since I am the picky eater in the house, I looked through the menus he suggests for his two-week STAT plan and for his two-week RESTORE plan.  And then I looked at what I got to eat when I was done with that four-week cycle and had finally reached the holy pinnacle of My Goal Weight.  That's the MAINTAIN plan.  And it all looked doable.  And sensible.  And healthy.

So we kicked it off.

We've each had a cheat day (Thursday for both of us) where I did have ice cream.  And it was too big, and I felt like garbage after.  And not from guilt either.  I don't prescribe to guilt.  I'm a Romans 8:1 girl.  Beau noticed on his cheat day that he felt run down by afternoon, something he didn't feel the rest of the week while he was eating on the plan.  Imagine that.  The veggies and healthful carbs and protein works!  (And, incidentally, they actually taste good.  Imagine my surprise in enjoying a variety of beans, an avocado, guacamole sans onions, AND grapefruit?!  Not all together, though.  That still sounds gross.)

We also woke up this morning 9 pounds down (for Beau) and 7 pounds down (for me).  Which is exciting and horrifying all at once.  Exciting: the plan is working.  Horrifying: we were really eating like garbage before.

Anyway, today is Sunday.  It's Super Bowl Sunday, so we carefully chose the cheats we wanted for the party we're attending tonight and are looking forward to enjoying fellowship and some (carefully excessive) eating.  But first, we went to church.

Not only is today Sunday, today is Communion Sunday at our church.  We sat through the bulk of the service--a baptism, crying kids, offering, snippets of the sermon caught through chatting and wiggly kids--and then it was time for communion.  I learned a cool way of thinking about communion recently, so I was definitely looking forward to it this morning.  That time of toasting Jesus' memory, thanking Him for His love and His sacrifice . . .

Still, I wasn't prepared for the actual act of putting that little piece of white bread in my mouth today.

You guys.  Aside from two whole grain English muffins, I have not had a piece of bread in over a week.  And I certainly haven't had a hunk of pure, refined carb, zero nutritional value, white bread.  That thing was good.  My teeth sank into it.  I crushed it between my tongue and the roof of my mouth.  And for a moment I was in heaven.

Then I chuckled.

And in my head I said, "God, that was a great cheat.  Thank you."

And then I thought about it for a moment while the elders gathered the trays of grape juice, and I sat in anticipation of the taste of that juice--the first time drinking something other than water or tea in a week--passing across my taste buds and trickling its happy, sweet goodness down my throat.

And I whispered, right out loud, "Let it always be like this, God.  Let it always feel like a refreshing, I have missed you for so long, thank you for this gift, cheat.  Because, in the end, that's what it represents."

Death should have been mine.  That's where I was headed.  But Jesus cheated that for me.

Praise be my Rock!

Empowered Through Pain

It's been an interesting 14 months for the Bierenga family.  I've alluded to some of our family's journey here and here and again here.  I have wrestled over the last year with how much to write, whether to write, and what to really say.  In the end, I still haven't written.  I know I will, because that's what I do.  But I still need a little more space to really climb into it.

At the same time, something settled in my brain on Monday that I have to share.  Then it will feel real, and public, and permanent (remember, that's true about the internet).

Monday dawned dark and early, and I was in a bed at my parents' house.  My parents were on their way out the door.  I needed to shower so my sister and I could join them in a curtained room in the surgical prep area of Hackley Hospital in Muskegon.  The morning was freezing cold, and we shivered our way to the hospital before the sun was even considering breaking the horizon.  We found my parents in the last "room" on our left.  Dad was lying in the bed, and Mom was sitting on a chair next to him.  We spent our time there together, just the four of us, for the first time in years really, now that Sara and I are married and have five kids between us.  We were together while the nurse prepped Dad, while the anesthesiologist talked with him, while Sara prayed for Dad and the surgeons and the cancer to go away, while the surgeon checked in with him, while the surgeon prayed for the surgery team, while I read a sad note from a friend whose battle with cancer is nearing its final days, while we laughed and took pictures and read comments from friends who are praying.

And then it was time for the team to walk him to the Operating Room.  Nearly eight years ago, my dad left for Iraq.  That goodbye was hard.  That goodbye was for 400 days and thousands of miles and time zones and bombs and war.  That was the hardest goodbye I've ever had with my dad.  This one nestled right up against it.  So much was riding on that bed.  My daddy was riding on that bed.  And how do you kiss him goodbye hoping and uncertain and wishing and dreaming and desperately loving?  We did it.

While we were waiting in the Family Waiting Area (while "The 700 Club" played on TV, so that wasn't super helpful), we all tried to occupy ourselves.  Sara worked on a training for work.  Mom read Facebook and played Candy Crush and Words with Friends.  I read a book for the Baker Bloggers Program.  And while I was reading, while the surgeons were collecting samples of my dad's insides for biopsy, while hundreds of people around the country were praying, while we were trying to distract ourselves, it hit me.

I was reading the section entitled "Experiencing God's Presence in Suffering, Loss, and Pain."  Kevin Harney wrote:

Suffering is suffering.  It is ours as we walk through it.  It invariably leads to tears, sorrow, heartache, and struggle.  It usually comes unannounced and we rarely know when it will leave.
Most of all, suffering can crush our faith or strengthen it.  The decision is ours.  Will I cling to Jesus through my pain and with tears streaming down my face?  Or will I turn my back and walk away from the only One who can carry me through?  Will I curse God or bless his name even if my teeth are clenched in agony as I worship?  Will I let the presence and power of God fill me to overflowing when I have nothing left to give, or will I seek to make it through in my own strength?
Powerful people seek to face suffering by relying on their own reserve of strength and tenacity.
The powerless throw in the towel as soon as the winds shift, long before the roof comes crashing down.
But the empowered hold the hand of Jesus and let his strength and presence carry them through the tempest of suffering, loss, and pain.  The empowered know that they can't weather the storms life will bring, but that the Maker of heaven and earth can place them under his wings and shelter them no matter what comes their way.

I read that, and then I looked up at my mom and my big sister, and I said, "I'm empowered.  And I'm empowered because we're empowered.  That's what you and Dad taught us."  And it's true.

Our faith isn't perfect.  My grandparents made their mistakes, but they instilled in my mom a faith that is her own.  And through their own struggles and journeys and heartaches my parents have given me a faith in the Maker of heaven and earth and His shelter and peace.

Just over 19 years ago, I left home.  I moved to a secular college because I wanted to forget my parents' faith and find my own.  During that time I made mistakes, and I said and did some hurtful things in my "enlightenment."  But I worked hard to build my faith.  And now there I was.  Sitting in a nondescript and uncomfortable waiting room while my dad underwent cancer surgery, and I realized that the faith I have is now my own, but it's also my parents'.   I'm empowered by the presence of God in the midst of my pain and suffering.  But every single day of the journey we have walked since November 2013 I have seen the same empowering written in my parents' words.  It's been in their strength, in their hope, in their peace, in their prayers.  That didn't change when Zack died.  It didn't change when my dad was pushed into retirement.  It didn't change when our house was broken into.  It didn't change when Dad was told he had cancer.  It didn't change while we waited in that room together.  It didn't change today when we were told that my dad's lymph nodes and all margins of his prostate are clear of cancer.  And I know without a doubt that it wouldn't have changed if we had been told his body was riddled with the disease.

Harney goes on to talk about being "propelled onward by the call and mission of God."  He says that our journey of faith is not really any different than Abraham's when he was still called Abram and he followed an unknown God from the land of his family into a new land where God would build His kingdom.  "Who follows God like this?" Harney writes.  "Abraham and Sarah.  Peter and Andrew.  You and me.  We hear his call.  He leads us on a mission day-by-day and moment-by-moment.  We go, not knowing where it will lead us but trusting the God who calls us to follow him."

And we do.  The journey might lead us through betrayal.  It might lead us through the valley of the shadow of death.  It might lead us through cancer or job loss or the breakdown of a family.  But through all of that, the good and the bad, through the pain and the joy, we live with a tenacious faith that knows "God can see the end of the road even when [we] can't."

Thanks, Mom and Dad.  Thanks for lending me your faith when I was a little girl.  Thanks for letting me go off and try to build my own faith.  And thanks for letting me find a faith that was yours all along.

Reviewing: Empowered By His Presence

Empowered By His Presence: Receiving the Strength You Need Each Day
by Kevin G. Harney

Wow.  This is a great book.  The format, the content, the application--all of it is a wonderful tool for the Christian's journey.

Kevin Harney breaks this book down into a four-week devotional journey (for individuals, small groups, or churches) consisting of a short reading six days a week and a "for further study" portion that can be broken down throughout the week or used for more in-depth study and discussion on the 7th day.  In his introduction, Harney discusses power, its origins in our lives, and its usefulness in our lives.  He also notes there are three types of people: powerful, powerless, and empowered.  Our goal as Christians is to live lives that are empowered by the presence of God and the Holy Spirit.

Through each of the four sections--"Experiencing God's Presence in Suffering, Loss, and Pain"; "Encountering God in the Community of His People"; "Empowered for the Journey by Receiving God's Rest"; and "Propelled Onward by the Call and Mission of God"--Harney tells a story of someone in the Bible and often someone from current times to demonstrate the empowering of God for each step of everyday life.  He then concludes every day's reading with a description of how the powerful, powerless, and empowered individual would respond in that situation.

I found these descriptions to be incredibly helpful.  I tend to be self-critical and read books like this from a place of exhaustion recognizing (and quickly becoming overwhelmed by) all the steps I have to take to "arrive" at some impossible pinnacle of piety.  In reading Empowered, I found each day's reading to be in turns challenging and affirming and encouraging.  Then, reading the descriptions I was able to find myself in each reading and note where I need to work to deepen my dependence on God and His power for my day.  Sometimes I was surprised to see where I fell; other times I was encouraged.  Every time I was challenged by the faith of those who have gone before me and the desire to rest in God's power to meet the needs in my own life and in those around me.  The best news of all is that this power exists and is available to each of us . . . and it is the same power and spirit that dwelt within Christ and empowered Him for His daily journey.


Disclosure: I received this book free from Baker Books through the Baker Books Bloggers (www.bakerbooks.com/bakerbooksbloggers) program.  The opinions I have expressed are my won, and I was not required to write a positive review.  I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255 (http://www.access.gpo.gov/nara/cfr/waisidx_03/16cfr255_03.html).

Reviewing: Hidden Agenda

Hidden Agenda
by Lisa Harris

This is the third installment in Lisa Harris's Southern Crimes series.  I haven't read the first two books, but this series is an interesting one.  Instead of following only one main character in her books, Harris introduces us to the Hunt family--book one is about one daughter, book two is about another, and book three is about their brother.  All of the family members are in one way or another connected to law enforcement, and the books--"Romantic Suspense," a genre which is new to me--tell their love stories against a backdrop of suspense and action.

Because I received this book from Revell to review I didn't know much about it or the series walking into it.  As I mentioned, "Romantic Suspense" is a new genre to me.  This left me wrestling through much of the book as to whether it was a love story with a crime or whether it was a crime story with a romance.  Now that I understand Harris was trying to write a love story set against elements of crime and suspense, I do think she did a good job.

Hidden Agenda takes place over only a few days.  In that time, and through use of memories and flashbacks, Harris manages to develop two characters about whom the reader can care and in whom the reader can invest.  The characters wrestle with trust and regret, and this is well fleshed out despite the pace of the novel.  Given the short time frame in which the story is set, however, I did feel the romance was a bit unrealistic in its development. For lovers of romance, though, it was a sweet love story tucked into some intrigue.

In addition to this character development, there are moral ambiguities I always enjoy finding in books I read.  The reader can question how he or she (most likely she, for a book like this) would respond when faced with similar decisions, and this was laid out well without being in any way preachy.  The family dynamic in the Hunt family is also one that is lovely to see and had me in tears at times.  I also appreciated that things weren't neatly tied up in a bow at the end.  There is still more to be worked out.

I'm addressing the "crime" and "thriller" aspects of this book last, because that's what it seems the book did as well.  The crimes needed to happen in order for Michael and Olivia to be thrown together in a way that they can have their character and relationship arcs.  Because of this, the suspense wasn't intense, and my heart wasn't pounding.  I did wonder how things would come out, how the bad guys seemed to always be one step ahead, and who could be trusted (which ended up surprising me in the end), but it wasn't scary or truly thrilling.

All in all, I would recommend Hidden Agenda to people who enjoy romance with a deeper plot than the "will they or won't they" that is typical of so many romances.  I can also say that I added Dangerous Passage and Fatal Exchange to my "to read" list, because I am interested to spend more time with the Hunt family.  I hope, too, that Harris writes more books in the Southern Crimes series so we can revisit Michael and Olivia as background characters.


Disclosure: I received this book free from Revell through the Revell Reads Blog Tour program (http://bakerpublishinggroup.com/revell/revell-reads).  The opinions I have expressed are my own, and I was not required to write a positive review.  I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255 (www.access.gpo.gov/nara/cfr/waisidx_03/16cfr255_03.html).

Everything We Need to Know We Learned While Training Dragons

I meant to share this a while ago, when I first took my three daughters (and my dad) to see "How To Train Your Dragon 2" over the summer.  But then life happened (or laziness ensued or distraction set in or insert any other excuse here), and I didn't get around to it.  Then my nieces watched it during our family Christmas celebration, and news events happened in our country, and I was reminded.

So, in the theme of things as I close out 2014, better late than never.

While I was watching "How to Train Your Dragon 2," two themes kept coming to mind.  They, coupled with something I listened to myself whisper as I held my frightened four-year-old daughter on my lap, made up three truths about life I've learned over the last several years.  And, as I watch the news each day, I see how essential it is that I teach them to my girls.

It's been too long for me to give specific references to the film, and maybe they aren't even as important as real-life examples, so here goes nothing.

1) Talking and getting to know new people is better than fighting.
Our country is on the cusp of something major.  In college I studied the Civil Rights Movement, and in the cry of silent protesters and angry crowds I see so much history being repeated.  On another front there are lines being drawn about gay rights and transgender individuals and what is Christian and what is right. Then there is addiction--both the addicts themselves and the people who desperately love them and want to be enough for them . . .

We're in a mess of hurting people, and "we" as the Church are too often stepping up to the wrong side of those lines.  Yes.  There is right and there is wrong.  But God never asked us to judge the heart of man.  He asked us to love His children.  If I insist on pointing out the right and the wrong and ignore the brokenness and desperation, am I doing that?  No.  So.  Talking and getting to know people is better than fighting.  We need each other.  We need each other for what we can learn from people who are different than us, and we need each other for what we can share with people who are different than us.  And, most importantly, we need each other because without each other I'm not sure we can ever see a true picture of the God who created each of us.

2) Work together to fight the bullies.
Maybe this lends itself to #1 up there.  We. Need. Each. Other.  Period.  There's nothing more to it than that.  There are bullies in this world.  Some of them are big and physically violent.  Some of them are small and insidious.  Some of them are in the pews next to us in our churches.  Some of them stand in our capitol buildings.  Some of them wear a badge and carry a gun.  Some of them work on our news stations or in a cubicle next to us.

But, it's important to remember that not all of the people in those roles are bullies.

As I'm involved in a Global Learners' Initiative through my daughters' school district I have learned one important lesson: NEVER go alone.  Find a friend.  A buddy.  Someone who has your back.  Because here's the thing.  The bullies are tough.  Their insecurities and ignorance and hatred make them formidable, and their desperation makes them dangerous.

So don't go alone.

Let's join together.  Alone we can get killed.  Alone we can bend and break under the pressure.  Alone we can get laughed out of the room.

If you see a bully who needs to be fought, ask a friend to join you.  If you see a friend who's fighting a battle, join in.  Don't quarrel about differences in technique or philosophy or theology or interpretation.  Just fight alongside someone who needs it.

Fight the bullies with truth and goodness.  Maybe we'll get beaten in this battle.  But we'll win the war.

3) "It might get scary, but it will be okay."
This one is my favorite.  During the great battle scene at the end of the moview, my youngest daughter crawled onto my lap and whispered that she was scared.  I wrapped my arms around her, squeezed her tightly, and whispered back, "Baby, it will be okay.  It might get scary, but it will be okay."

There is truth to this, I realized as I heard my words.  That's life, friends.  It gets scary sometimes.  But it will be okay.

What a year my family had closing out 2013 and throughout 2014.  We were betrayed by friends--publicly.  Lies were told.  Tears were shed.  Curse words were uttered.  Truth is still taking its time stepping into the light.  In the middle of all of it, a brother ended his fight with PTSD.  And now, at the end of it (we thought), my dad has been diagnosed with prostate cancer.  His prognosis is good, though the cancer is aggressive.  Still, it's cancer.  There will be surgery and, depending on what the doctors find, maybe treatments.

It might get scary, but it will be okay.

We have faith.  And we have God.  And we have each other.  And we have grace.  And we know that in the end, it will all be okay.


Let these three lessons carry us into the new year, friends.  Let this be the year that the Church stops caring about semantics and starts caring about the heart of Christ.  Let this be the year that the bullies are fought against and that the bullied find us standing with them.  Let this be the year of hope in the midst of the fear that everything really will work out in the end.  And, in the middle of it all, let us find grace and love and joy.

Reviewing: The Making of an Ordinary Saint

The Making of an Ordinary Saint: My Journey from Frustration to Joy with the Spiritual Disciplines
by Nathan Foster

Three brief moments of disclosure before I begin:
1) This book took me months to read. That was all on me.  I slowly and carefully digested each word.  I'm certain it could have been read faster, but I couldn't do it.
2) I haven't read Celebration of Discipline by Richard Foster.  Still, I have my preconceived notions about the spiritual disciplines and Richard Foster's beautiful (and comical) use of antonyms in his title.
3) One of my dearest friends edited this book.  She knows me well enough to know that means nothing as to my liking this book.

Now.  On to the review.

Nathan Foster is the son of Richard Foster, whom I have always referred to as "The Disciplines Guy."   Richard's famous book Celebration of Discipline was published when I was one year old and has always felt like a daunting, "must-do" task for me if I want to be a true Christian.  I'm not sure anyone put that on me besides me, but it has always sat there nonetheless.  So, when my editor friend told me what she was working on, I was skeptical and intrigued.  Then I got my hands on the book.  And I spent the next three months eating, chewing, laughing, wiping away tears, nodding my head, and shaking my head in amazement.

For starters, I was glad to find out I wasn't the only one who found the concept of the spiritual disciplines as a formidable but essential checklist in order to reach true Christian status.  Richard Foster's own son felt that way too!  And, in much the same words my own pastor father would use, Richard gently explained to his son (and to the reader--in a coup we get "The Spiritual Disciplines Guy" AND his "Skeptical About the Disciplines Son"!): "This isn't supposed to hurt.  It's not supposed to be a checklist about succeeding or failing.  It's supposed to be about choosing God."

With candid honesty, vulnerable humility, and well-sprinkled humor, Nathan Foster details his four-year journey with the spiritual disciplines.  It's a journey from fear, trepidation, and duty to freedom, love, and joy.  Through his journey, Foster makes approachable what has long felt daunting.  And he helps his reader see the secret Richard Foster tried to share with us all along:

It isn't about twelve rigid practices; in fact, as I go about each day, there are so many simple ways I can intentionally direct my will and actions toward God.  While the categories are helpful, they are only constructed to enable us to frame our experiences.  In a sense there is only one discipline: an active response to a loving God. (p191)

And, in that learning to actively respond to a loving God, through Richard Foster's introductions to each chapter, Nathan Foster's prosaic explanations of his practical implementation of each discipline (sometimes accidental, always simple, and never with mundane results), and a brief essay on a "mother or father" of the faith who lived that discipline daily, we see that this really is practical.  It really is about responding actively to a loving God.  It really is about choosing joy and choosing love and seeing God and needing Him and wanting Him more than anything else.

I'll read this book again.  Next time it won't be for an assignment or with a deadline I already missed.  It will be with a journal and a plan to actively and intentionally walk this journey on my own.


Disclosure: I received this book free from Baker Books through the Baker Books Bloggers (www.bakerbooks.com/bakerbooksbloggers) program.  The opinions I have expressed are my won, and I was not required to write a positive review.  I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255 (http://www.access.gpo.gov/nara/cfr/waisidx_03/16cfr255_03.html).

Reviewing: At Bluebonnet Lake

At Bluebonnet Lake
by Amanda Cabot

This is the first book I've read by Amanda Cabot, but I understand that under her various names, Cabot is, at heart, a romance writer.  And she's done that again with her new Texas Crossroads series.  At Bluebonnet Lake is the first in the series, and it meets both people and places at a "crossroads" in their lives.  Whether it is a question of confronting priorities, broken relationships, hope for the future, or reclaiming purpose, Cabot brings her main and her minor characters--and the resort where their lives intersect--into crossroads where the reader is invested and cares about their next steps.

At Bluebonnet Lake is truly a sweet romance.  It is the love story of people and place and family.  As is the case with most romances, I found the ending predictable.   Still, it was a journey that I enjoyed taking.  And along the way there were a few surprises.  Most of those surprises came in how much I ended up caring about Rainbow's End and the town of Dupree--and all of its minor characters.  I look forward to future books in the series and hope Cabot continues to tell their stories, dropping At Bluebonnet Lake's main characters--Kate, Greg, Sally, and Roy--into the background in favor of exploring more of Carmen, KOB, Lauren, and even Fiona.  I even couldn't help rooting for Drew to find his own happy ending.

This is a sweet book.  It's a sweet love story and an invitation to settle down and enjoy the peace and the quiet of the sweet gifts God places in your path.


Disclosure: I received this book free from Revell through the Revell Reads Blog Tour Program. The opinions I have expressed are my own, and I was not required to write a positive review. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255.

Reviewing: Steel Will

Steel Will
Staff Sgt (RET) Shilo Harris with Robin Overby Cox


Shilo Harris is one of the many veterans of the Iraq and Afghanistan wars who have come home with scars from wounds that anyone who comes across them can easily see.  In fact, his scars are hard to avoid.  Harris was riding in a Humvee that was blown up by an IED while he and his men were clearing a road referred to as Metallica.  The blast caused his ears, part of his nose, and some of his fingers to be blown off, and the heat and flames from the ensuing fire burned much of his body.  Due to the nature of these wars, wounds like this are nothing new.  Harris and Cox detail many of them--all horrifying to imagine, but some gut wrenching to endure through Cox's almost too-vivid descriptions--in Steel Will.

What makes Staff Sgt. (RET) Shilo Harris different from many veterans is that he has chosen to talk about his journey.  Steel Will is subtitled "My Journey Through Hell to Become the Man I was Meant to Be."  This is an accurate description for the road he walked--he describes the flames and the heat so intense it caused ammunition in the Humvee to discharge and his uniform to melt into his body--and a figurative one as well.  Harris doesn't shy away from sharing his own growing pains and mistakes as he grew up in the home of a Vietnam vet suffering from undiagnosed and self-medicated PTSD.  He also doesn't shy away from his own selfishness as a young adult and the pain those choices caused for the people around him.  So it's no surprise that he doesn't sugar coat the realities of living through his medically-induced coma as his body struggled to heal, the impact of his new life on his family, his guilt over surviving, the cost of his activism, and his children's desire to protect him from stares while they are together in public.

And, through it all, the missteps, the pain, the hell on earth, the hell in his mind, the suicidal thoughts, Harris credits God with helping him endure.  I expected faith to play a bigger, more active role in the story Harris and Cox lay out in Steel Will.  Instead, it is sort of an underlying theme.  And, true to his willing transparency, the faith often belongs to Harris's wife.  When he doesn't have his own, he draws on hers.  When he can't draw on hers, he humbly draws on his young daughter's.  In the end, the steel will to endure might not belong to Shilo Harris.  It might belong instead to Kathreyn and Elizabeth Harris.

As the daughter of a former National Guard chaplain who survived my father's deployment to Iraq--a deployment that brought home a different father than he brought over--I can recognize that there are no unwounded soldiers.  And there are no unwounded soldiers' families.  Being one of those, this was a hard book to read.  I read portions of it to my husband, and he asked me to stop.  The descriptions turned his stomach.  But you know what?  Those are the costs of freedom.  When we don't have family members or friends or neighbors who serve, it gets easy to debate the merits or horrors of war as theory.  When we read a book like Steel Will we are forced to confront them.  I think that even though it's hard, this is a book well worth reading.  It's worth it to understand just a bit about where our soldiers and their families are and what they endure.  It's also worth it to see that in our own ways, God brings each of us through a hell in order to make us into the people we were meant to be.  And when it gets too hard to endure, He gives us the steel will of the faith of those around us to help us make it.


Disclosure: I received this book free from Baker Books through the Baker Books Bloggers program. The opinions I have expressed are my own, and I was not required to write a positive review. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255.

Reviewing: The First Time We Saw Him

The First Time We Saw Him: Awakening to the Wonder of Jesus
Matt Mikalatos

Mikalatos begins The First Time We Saw Him with a disclaimer: "Remember, the point is not to breathe new life into the Scriptures.  It's to remind us that they're already alive."  And, boy, are they ever!

Let me also include a disclaimer: I have been a Christian my entire life.  There have been moments that I have "taken off" my WWJD bracelet (or attitude), but there is no possible way for me to separate myself from Christ.  I know that.  BUT . . . I find that the stories, the parables, can get a bit stale.  I've read them so many times that I feel like I know them by heart.  There's a danger then in hearing what they are saying to you . . . or even listening long enough to believe they might have anything to say.

The truth is, that I'm exactly the kind of person for whom Mikalatos was writing this book.  Awakening to the wonder.  That's what so many of us need.  Not adding wonder, or uncovering wonder.  Awakening to it.  Because the wonder is there.  It's in every word, and every story Jesus told.

Using modern language, names, and situations, Mikalatos retells Jesus' story as recounted in the Gospels.  From Jesus' birth to a young girl named "Miryam" ("Mary" in Aramaic), through the miracles and signs and wonders, to his resurrection and ascension, each story comes alive with beauty and wonder.  And conviction.  Mikalatos writes lovely prose, and he captures the heart of the reader, bringing us in to the story where we eavesdrop on the lessons and can even nearly glimpse the eye of Jesus Himself as He looks deeply into our hearts, piercing our souls with conviction and grace.  When needed, he adds his own thoughts and narration.  When that will get in the way, he simply lets the retelling of Jesus' story speak for itself.

As he is wrapping up this short book, Mikalatos retells the Great Commission.  For his purposes, he refers to it perhaps more accurately as "The Great Thing Entrusted to Us," where he suggests Jesus' commission to us is more than that.  It's a command and a blessing and a promise and an invitation, all rolled in to one.  This was perhaps my favorite chapter in the book.  It was the heaviest on author narration, because I think we often misunderstand what Jesus was saying and doing as He stood on the mountain with his closest followers.  Where often this message gets bogged down in guilt, Mikalatos reminds us there is no condemnation in Christ Jesus.  This isn't an order or a guilt-driven demand.  This is an invitation.  It's an empowering.  It's a gift that we get to share.

I began my review with a quote from the beginning of the book, and I'll end it with two from the end:

[The new believers] are watching [Thom], leaning forward, eager to hear what he might say.  He smiles and begins another story of what he has heard, what he has seen with his eyes, what he has looked at, and what his hands have touched.

And they stay with him until long after dark, gathered around the great light and enveloping warmth of his stories.

Mikalatos is talking about Thomas and the missionary work he did following the outpouring of the Holy Spirit.  But he could as easily have been describing how I felt about this book--and what we, as believers, are invited to share in our love and spreading of the Gospel.  Stories of what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we have looked at, and what our hands have touched.

One last note.  When Mikalatos closes the Epilogue, he subtly addresses Communion in one of the most beautiful ways I can imagine.

Pete lifts his wine glass.  "In his memory," he says, and we toast together, and we drink, and we tell stories long into the night, and there is raucous laughter and there are tears and comforting arms and hymns and on the way home we link arms and hold car doors for one another and there are kisses on cheeks and warm hugs and we tuck into our beds warmed by our memories and, when the sun wakes us, we rise to make another day of memories together with him, here, in the real world, where he lives.

This, friends, is our world.  The place where we live, and the place where He lives, and the place where we still get to make memories together.  Thank you, Matt Mikalatos, for awakening me to the wonder of that gift.

 

{I received this book free from Baker Books through the Baker Book Bloggers program.  I have expressed my own opinions, and I was not required to write a positive review.  I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255.}

#alsicebucketchallenge

So our day came.  Our middle daughter and I were challenged by two separate people to participate in the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge.  If you aren't familiar with it, go to YouTube and search ALS Ice Bucket Challenge, and you can watch for days.

Working in fundraising as I have for the past 13 years, this is a tricky thing for me.  I resent gimmicks as fundraising tools.  I also think it's easy to get caught up in the emotion or excitement of the "challenge" and not understand the purpose or the mission.  And, I get the concerns of people saying this is wasting water while people around the world struggle for clean water and California is in the middle of a record drought.

Still, what if only half of the people who do the challenge donate their $10 to ALS?  What if only a quarter of the people do it?  Reports this morning are that the ALS Association has raised $79.7 million to fight ALS and research to find a cure.  That's $77.2 million more than during the same period last year.  So what if those are pledges and not actual donations and only 1/4 of them come in (which is far worse than normal pledge to donation ratios)?  That's still $19.3 million MORE than they raised during that time last year.  It also surpasses their entire revenue from FY12.  Just in the last month or so since this challenge started.  And if half of those pledges are actually donated . . . or the closer-to-average 75%.  Wow.

In addition, I spoke with three of our neighbors when we were in the process of completing our challenge.  One of them didn't know what ALS was.  Neither did my 8-, 6-, and 4-year-old daughters.  And now they do.  So if each of us who participates donates $10 and tells 4 people about ALS, then maybe this is more than just dumping a bucket of ice water on our heads.

So we did it:

And then we challenged Marianne Boykin, Nancy Bierenga, Amanda TeKrony, Beau McDowell, Addison McDowell, Ellie McDowell, Abbie Schalk, Tressa Meyer, Danielle Meyer, Sara Meyer, Josh Schalk, and Kate Schalk.

So if each of them donates $10 and tells four people about ALS, then that's another $120 and 48 people.  That's nothing to complain about.

Haven't been challenged but still want to learn more and donate?  Here's your chance! 

P.S. I really did get soaked.

Reviewing: Dynamic Women of the Bible

Dynamic Women of the Bible: What We Can Learn from Their Surprising Stories
by Ruth A. Tucker

They were wives, mothers, daughters, and friends.  They were faithful and faithless.  They were benevolent and they were brutal.

But always, they were real.

This text from the back cover is intriguing to me.  Because I think that's what is lost about the women in the Bible.  I grew up in the church, and when I wasn't there or at Sunday School I was playing church, baptizing my dolls, wearing my grandmother's fur collars over my play clothes, having fake conversations with the ladies while our imaginary children ran around sneaking cookies.  I know the stories.  Eve brought sin into the world.  Rahab sneaked the spies out of town over the wall.  Esther saved her people.  Bathsheba was an unwitting victim of King David's lust while Potipher's wife, Delilah, and Jezebel made victims of their own.  And then the new testament.  Mary is the sweet, innocent mother of Jesus.  The other Mary followed him around, learning from him and believing in him, even when his other friends didn't.  As I grew up and heard the stories I began to understand they were a bit more complicated than I originally thought--Adam is just as guilty, right?  Rahab was a what?!  Couldn't (shouldn't?) Bathsheba turned down the king's advances?  And how did Mary actually love Jesus (hey, I adore "Jesus Christ Superstar" and can sing nearly every word)?

But how real have these women ever really been to me?

Obviously Sunday School needs to quiet things down and make its subjects rather one-dimensional.  I mean, five year olds can barely sit still and listen, let alone understand who Rahab was when she wasn't aiding and abetting spies.  And then, when you get a little older, and you start sitting through sermons and your own readings of the text, the writers of both testaments give too little time or space to these women to make them any more than two-dimensional characters.

Tucker takes those two-dimensional women who lived and died so long ago and breathes life into them.  Yes, it's conjecture.  It has to be.  There is no one living today who sat with Bathsheba and talked with her about the pros and cons of getting involved with the king while her husband was away at war (but wouldn't that be an interesting conversation?!).  So Tucker looks at what the Bible does give us about fifty Biblical women--both the commonly known and the obscure--and asks the "what if" questions.  In the introduction, she wisely notes that this book isn't about the hows or the whys of the decisions they made and the lives they lived.  There are no real answers here.  Like 17th-century philosopher Spinoza writes (and Tucker quotes in her introduction), "the purpose of the Bible 'is not to convince the reason, but to attract and lay hold of the imagination.'"  So there are a lot of questions about what makes these women real--and how that relates to us as women today.

Dynamic Women isn't perfect.  I found the sidebars confusing and disruptive to my reading.  Tucker includes those and questions--fluffy and more intentional--that can guide a small discussion group.  There were several chapters I found myself wishing I could talk about with my friends, if only to ask the "what if" questions with them.  But many of the chapters have stuck with me, and I look forward to rereading these women's stories in the Bible with new eyes that long to see beyond the few verses they are given and imagine what depth those women have.

As Tucker writes, "The Bible is a big book, but brevity is too often the rule . . . [these women] are far more . . . than what the Bible tells us."  And, Tucker would have us believe that by considering what more they are, by allowing the wonderings to lay hold of our imaginations, we can learn more about their stories, about ourselves, and about God.  I think she's right.


{I received this book free from Baker Books through the Baker Book Bloggers program.  I have expressed my own opinions, and I was not required to write a positive review.  I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255.}

Finding Hope

I just finished reading The Hour I First Believed by Wally Lamb.  It is a book that had long been on my "To Read" shelf on Goodreads, and I was excited to walk past it on the shelf at the library while I was stocking up on vacation reading . . . for my daughter.  (I'm not sure how looking for books in the Young Adult section led to me being in the adult fiction section, but those sorts of things happen to me.  Any time I'm around books.)

It's a long, long book.  Possibly the longest work of fiction I've ever read.  Some of the reviews on Goodreads point to the fact that Lamb touches on five or six plot lines in this book, and he certainly covers everything from the Civil War to Columbine to PTSD to women's prisons to the current war in Afghanistan and Iraq to infidelity to . . . nearly everything else.  At first glance it really is a disjointed conglomeration that makes the reader wonder why we have held on for so long.  And then he says it.  On page 685, Lamb has a character say, "Life is messy, violent, confusing, and hopeful."

And that's it.

That's what all these things have in common.

And that's what they have in common with me reading it right now, finishing it yesterday, the day a group of people accidentally shot down a plane full of innocent passengers.  Passengers who included three infants and a hundred men and women who had dedicated their lives to saving the lives of others through HIV/AIDS research.  And the day Israel sent ground troops into Gaza.  Shortly after a local Christian radio host was arrested and charged with the sexual trafficking of a young boy.

"Life is messy, violent, confusing, and hopeful."

I have two friends whose families endured terrible and violent shooting tragedies over the past several years.  The devastation has been horrible, and it has changed everything about their worlds.  But they have hope.

I also have a friend who died following his battle against PTSD.  He fought willingly in a war against bullies and tyrants, because that's who Zack was.  But he was baptized, and he loved God, and we have hope that he is finally at peace.

For some reason Columbine has always stayed with me.  It has been tucked in my mind since it happened, and I continue to be impacted by it.  Perhaps it was the timing--I was a senior in college, so I was aware and had the time to watch the coverage and read about it.  Perhaps it was the fact that I joined my friends in taking a group of high schoolers to Columbine just one year after the shootings.  Or maybe it was standing in a church there, worshiping with my friends and those high schoolers, just miles from Columbine High School.  We sang "Better Is One Day," there in the shadow of the Rocky Mountains alongside Columbine students who knew and loved the children who died.  And we sang, with all our hearts and voices, "Better is one day in Your courts than thousands elsewhere."  Because even in that mess, that violence, that confusion . . . there was hope.

As I wrote following our break in, I have friends and family members who have lost jobs, been betrayed by friends, been abandoned by spouses who vowed to always stand by them, and have their families continually ravaged by addiction.  And all I have to offer them is this.

Life is messy.

Life is violent.

Life is confusing.

But, at the end of all this, life is hopeful.

Oh, my God.  He will not delay.
My refuge and strength, always.
I will not fear, His promise is true.
My God will come through, always.  Always.

{"Always," Kristian Stanfill}

Processing a Processing Disorder

My pastor recently sent me an interesting article questioning whether Sensory Processing Disorders are a true medical diagnosis. It's a condition I have talked about before, and one that my husband and I are seeing in our middle daughter as well. The article is worth reading, even if it raises a point that ruffles some feathers, including mine. Sensory Processing Disorders are not widely recognized, and I have a friend who had to fight for a while to get her child diagnosed. Even then, insurance may do little or nothing to treat its symptoms, and there is no cure. 

Thankfully our doctor does recognize it and has worked with us on free or very inexpensive ways to cope with it--Meg "snuggles" with a medicine ball, I made a "sensory jar" she can stare at to calm herself down, I've learned deep tissue compressions, etc.--and we haven't needed to try to find therapy which is, indeed, not covered by insurance.  Gratefully, Meg's Kindergarten teacher also recognizes Sensory Processing Disorders and worked hard to make sure Meg transitioned well into full-time schooling. Meg was fine at school, but her teacher wanted to be sure we were coping at home, too. And she saved us. She really did. 

So, obviously, I disagreed with the title of the article. I believe Sensory Processing Disorders are real. And totally a medical condition. 

Right? 

Still, I found this interesting: 

In 2012, the American Academy of Pediatrics claimed it is unclear whether children with sensory problems have a distinct disorder or whether their challenges are linked with other disorders such as autism, ADHD, and anxiety. It urged doctors to caution parents that the effectiveness of sensory integration treatments are "limited and inconclusive."

While I do think it's apparent that I have something more than just normal reactions to things, and I can see that Meggie does too, I'm not prepared to say it's not linked to autism or ADHD.  I believe autism is a spectrum--ranging from ADD to savantism--and that spectrum includes a range of functioning.  It's all sensory processing difficulties--an inability to concentrate on any given task, an inability to control oneself to sit still, an inability to function in social settings, an inability to express oneself in any way other than playing the piano.  In fact, when I describe it to other people, I just say, "It's on the autism spectrum."  And Meg isn't as far down the spectrum as Asperger's, but she is closer to that than just ADHD or ADD.  So am I, though I'm also coming to terms with the fact that I might have ADD.  So do I have an extreme case of ADD manifested in a constant flight or fright state?  Or does a place on the spectrum closer to autism mean I have everything to the left as well, including the ADD?  And someone with Asperger's would have the ADD and the flight/fright state AND trouble in social settings/gathering social cues?  Hence the problem.

What I do know is that the therapies we've tried DO generally work, and it IS a matter of finding what works for yourself or your child.  But, boy oh boy, it's easy to be overstimulated in this fast-paced world.  I can't imagine trying to diagnose this or get insurance companies to determine what or how much to pay for it.  It's rather like diagnosing post-traumatic stress disorder.  Each of us is capable of handling different stressors . . . and we all have bad days.  So is someone with PTSD weak or depressed or just dramatic?  Or is it real and does it deserve disability payments and therapy?  How do you measure that degree and then assign a dollar value to treating it or compensating for it?

I understand why the psychiatric establishment isn't ready to rewrite the DSM just yet.  But I hope they're investing the time and the research dollars to explore it and helping families who haven't yet found what it takes to cope.

When We Last Left Our Heroes . . .

We used to be a bit more innocent.  A bit more naive.  A bit more trusting.  And we used to own a different laptop and have a shady back door or two.  Oh, and we had a piggy bank I painted when I was first pregnant, before anyone but Beau and I knew.

My last post was in May. Early May.  That's because May is always a crazy month for me, and I barely have time to think any thoughts, let alone write them down.  I did manage to squeeze many wonderful events into the last five weeks of school--a visit from my wonderfully-amazing cousin, a chance to meet his super-cool boyfriend, the last preschool graduation, a fun mix-it-up lunch at my daughter's school, a Kindergarten field trip, cheering on my 3rd grader in the school talent show, turning 37, celebrating 16 years of marriage, enjoying "Jesus Christ Superstar" on stage, and a Kindergarten party.  We also worked in a vacation to three of the houses lived in by Laura Ingalls and her family.  It was busy, and it was fun.

And then, on our last day of vacation, after we'd enjoyed a day of pretending to be homesteaders in DeSmet, SD, I checked my phone to find a voicemail.  It was from our neighbor, who was feeding our cat while we were gone.  He asked me to call him back right away.

My first thought was that our cat had escaped and been hit by a car.  So I prepared myself for that.

Instead, he answered my hello with, "Beka, I'm sorry, but you were robbed."

Robbed.  Awesome.

Several long-distance phone calls--to my husband, who was in Montana for work; back to my neighbor; and to the police--later, we assessed that very few things had been taken.  We also determined our back doors were both toast.  And that it takes a very long time to get home from vacation when all you want to do is hug your husband and make sure your favorite things really are still in your house.

So now, nearly three weeks after we were broken into, my kitchen is a disaster while our builders work to replace our back doors and repair the frame around the door in the kitchen.  We'll have to repaint the frame when they're done.  And repair and repaint some chips in the plaster around the door.  And then scrub up the floor from the grease and dirt work boots bring with them.  We also had to clean up the fingerprint dust from my jewelry box and other doors and drawers.  And we're waiting to hear what our insurance will reimburse for the doors, my work laptop, our personal laptop, and that piggy bank which our oldest daughter and I will recreate together more than nine years after I painted that first one.

Those are the physical damages we'll repair and replace.  There are also emotional ones.  There were neighbors who saw the people who broke into our house--before they had broken in--and said nothing.  There were other neighbors who saw the people too and still said they wouldn't talk to the police.  There's an almost-nine-year old who doesn't understand why someone would steal her piggy bank.  And there's a six year old who is afraid to sleep in her room and had to receive reassurances from her daddy that the bad guys who break in and take things are not the same bad guys who break in and take kids.  Like I wanted my kids to learn that right now.

We've installed a security system.  And we've delayed the listing of our house for sale by a couple weeks so we can repair these damages in addition to finishing last-minute "fix-it" projects.  And we still have those Laura Ingalls Wilder memories.

But so far on our summer break we've also learned another lesson.  Or maybe relearned it.  There's a verse that keeps going through my head: "Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the LORD our God."  (Ps 20:7)

And I know He won't let us down.  Even in the middle of a break-in . . . or a job ending, or a church closing, or health concerns, or a broken marriage, or a friend's betrayal.  I trust in the name of the LORD my God.