Tuesday, September 30, 2014

The Unsuspecting Psychologist


How many times have I typed it here over the years?  That what matters most to the Lord is drawing people to Himself--saving souls and more souls?

2 Peter 3:8-9 But do not let this one fact escape your notice, beloved, that with the Lord one day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years like one day. The Lord is not slow about His promise, as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing for any to perish but for all to come to repentance.

My anxiety-ridden children--whose anxieties are exhausting and fill me with anxiety, and vice versa--see a psychologist every Monday. We all like him, and in fact Mary had her first full session this last Monday and said afterwards, "Mommy, I really love that man." Before she left, she told him, "I'll miss you." 

He'd given her a science lesson about thunder and lightning and showed her many pictures of beautiful displays of God's glory in the skies, also explaining that lightning hits the highest objects around, if anything at all--rarely your house.

He grew up in tornado alley, he told her, and never saw a single tornado. In fact, when his home area in Ohio has a tornado warning, his family goes into the basement and he sits in the garage with the garage door open and tries to find a tornado in the sky--he so wants to see one--but still, he never has!

He asked her what her worst fear was. "A tornado running down the house and killing everybody", she answered.

"If this happened, which is very, very unlikely, where would you go?", he inquired.

"I would go to Heaven and be with Jesus forever." she answered.

"Yes. And your dolls and toys would be strewn all over the street, and children would come and be very happy to play with them, so is a tornado really all that bad?" he countered.

He's an orthodox Jewish psychologist (who also has OCD and suffered with it as a child) who loves God and intersperses things about God into his counseling sessions.

But he doesn't know Jesus. He upholds what my children say about Jesus--and they all have something to say about Him--but he doesn't personally know Jesus the Messiah.

It isn't only one of my children going to this man who loves God but not the Messiah. It's three of them. How rare is that? Three siblings needing therapy for anxiety? So this man has two hours of exposure to Christian children speaking from their heart about Jesus as the Spirit leads, every Monday.

Are you thinking what I'm thinking?

There was a purpose to the worst summer of my life? A purpose to me feeling like we were a failure as a family because who has this many children suffering from anxiety? I didn't tell you about all the embarrassment, shame, self-doubt, panic and failing faith that characterized my summer--or did I, sort of?

I'm sure I have a lot to learn--that we as a family have a lot to learn. Like how to abide.

But there is another purpose too, I strongly feel, having to do with an unsuspecting psychologist who doesn't know yet that God loves him so much, he's going to plant the truth of the gospel into the case file of the 7-year-old who's afraid of thunder, lightning, tornadoes and loud booms that just might be bombs. With a little help from her brothers.

When she said, "I really love that man," it could just as easily have been the Lord talking.

Jesus loves us! He really does, and when things are hard and down right messy, and we're ashamed and scared and we don't understand how it could get this bad, we can't lose hope. We don't know the outcome, but we do know the purpose. We do know what the Lord cares about.

We just have to care about souls too, and we'll be okay. We have to remember what he has planned for those who love Him.

Romans 8:28 And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.


1 Corinthians 2:9
However, as it is written:
“What no eye has seen,
    what no ear has heard,
and what no human mind has conceived”
    the things God has prepared for those who love him—
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Sunday, September 28, 2014

When God Gives An Assignment



Forgive me while I write myself into an understanding of my current assignment from the Lord. My approach to these assignments, and my expectations, don't always match His, so in writing it out I hope to relinquish control and drop any personal agenda, and just be His instrument.

Dear me...I don't know where to begin about my 12-year-old neighbor girl situation. The exact day I had decided to begin "counseling" Miss L and have her over to bake with Mary, her mother had a friend over for a quaint little Friday afternoon "drinking party".

Miss L came to our door about ten minutes after the school bus dropped her off (yes, our neighborhood finally has a school bus running again--after two years!). I didn't need to ask Miss L. how things were going or figure out how to approach the topic of alcohol abuse in her home. Visibly stressed, she relayed that her mother's friend was over with "a pack of reds", and she feared what would happen because this friend "was bad news and already had her kids taken away from her".

So, my mind began racing and everything I had thought about saying, I couldn't think of, because: "Wow, God, I didn't expect this opening!"

And right away I wondered...should I ask what "reds" is or just assume since it has "pack" in front of it, that it's alcohol?

Trying to seem as though I hear such news everyday (non-judgmental, I mean), I told her as much as I could remember of my little prepared speech, "I was going to tell you that when I was growing up my mother drank, and so I know what that is like. You can talk to me about it when you need to. Please know that it's not your fault, and you can't solve it. The Lord is always there for you, even when there is turmoil around you. Go to Him for comfort and pray for healing. Please come here if you ever feel unsafe."

I told her there were books from an organization called Alateen that I was going to get to go over with her, written for teens who are dealing with family members who drink.

Her grandfather, I learned, does not drink now, but drank a great deal before his grand kids were born. Miss L's grandmother's recent passing is a stretch for her grandfather's apparent 12-year sobriety, so let's hope the Lord can keep him strong (there are no Christians in this family, but Miss L went to AWANA with us for a year, and has been to Bible Studies here, but her life has been too erratic for us to know where she is spiritually).

The grandfather works second shift so he was not there during this drinking party, nor does he know the mother has been doing such things during his absence. Miss L said if he did know, he would kick her mother out.

Today I asked how the rest of the evening went last night, and Miss L said the mom's friend went out to get more "reds" and was going to smoke marijuana in their house too, but Miss L got her mother to lock the door and not let the friend back in. I guess this worked only because the mother was annoyed with the friend anyway.

Boldly, I told Miss L that although it seemed like a scary thing to do, the best thing for her mother would be for Miss L to tell the grandfather what was going on. "No way. We would get kicked out."

"Would your grandfather care for you if your mother couldn't live there anymore?, I asked (not remembering the second shift).

She said she was nearly old enough to babysit for her 8-year-old brother--and wanted to run a babysitting service--but not yet. Her grandfather couldn't take care of her right now.

My mind is thinking and considering, because obviously this is a very unsafe situation. I would really like Miss L to tell her grandfather the truth. She has taken on the parent role and her mother has taken on the child role, and this is robbing Miss L of her childhood entirely, which will have repercussions for a lifetime. A single mother drinking also puts her young daughter at risk for rape, depending on whom the mother allows around the house.

Right away I'm praying that the grandfather comes home unannounced at just the right time, because Miss L's mother needs to lose her financial support in order to hit rock bottom and have the custody of her children put at risk.

Parts I'm Wrestling With:

~ The Grace of God 

I prayed with both Miss L and her brother before they left our house Friday evening, asking for protection and more. And you know, it seemed like so little, as I sent two kids off to a possibly drunken situation.

In therapy on Monday I brought up with my kids' psychologist that my son Paul feels sad about my headaches and sister Beth's arthritis--almost guilty that we are suffering with things that he doesn't have to deal with. Paul is an anxious worry wort who takes on the weight of things too much, and between the psychologist's comments and my comments (mom and the psychologist work as a team) Paul learned that he has to trust God to provide the hurting with grace--that God is powerful enough to do this, and loving enough. We can be instruments of grace, but when our part is done, we have to trust God to do the rest. We can live in peace, knowing that we can't even imagine or see all the ways God will be there for people we know who are hurting. Sometimes we're privileged to hear about the ways God provided grace, and sometimes not, but we have to trust that God is there, always, loving and comforting.

As I wrote above, after going home last night, Miss L convinced her mother to lock the door on the "bad news friend" before the night got any worse. Isn't this an example of the grace of God?

I don't know what the Lord will do, or when, but I can rest (I can abide), knowing that this is not my problem to solve.

~ Putting Boundaries in Place

I must say, this whole business depressed me. The Lord had to remind me that as I help people, I must have boundaries in place. Their problems can't consume me or take away my joy. I could and should still have a pleasant evening with my own family. Soul joy should prevail, even though there are horrors in the world. This is a difficult concept for the tenderhearted among us to swallow, but it's truth.

People who have come from alcoholic homes have particular trouble with boundaries. As possible enablers growing up, they didn't know where one family member ended and another began. Everyone's identity got mixed up with the drinker's identity. Therefore, when adult children of alcoholics try to help someone (they're over-represented in the helping professions--nurses, teachers, therapists, clergy, doctors), they can lose themselves in the process.

So I must help with boundaries in place, always.

~ The Cost is Great

And then there's this. Miss L is extremely high-maintenance. I can take her in small, forty-minute max doses. Although I have a son with ADHD, that just doesn't prepare me--or perhaps it leaves me too exhausted by 3:30 PM--for the traits Miss L displays as part of her own ADHD. Her attention span is very short--she switches activities five minutes after the kids get something set up, and she doesn't offer to help clean anything up. She has learning disabilities that can be problematic during playtime, which she undoubtedly feels she's got to cover up, and she's ODD (stands for oppositional defiant disorder, but it just means she's very pushy and persistent and bossy--she's got to be told no many times before she'll drop an idea).

When she's here, it's at great cost to my personal sanity. When she's gone, I often feel...now what good did that possibly do, for it was so chaotic and how well did I even hide my annoyance?.

For example, the baking was a disaster. Miss L's ADHD is worse than I thought in terms of planning and concentration and follow through. She had something in mind she wanted to make, but had no recipe in hand. She began ordering me around for ingredients, planning on winging it entirely, but having no idea even of proportions in cake recipes.

I gently steered her toward our favorite (and easy) chocolate cake recipe, and because she wanted to do this project with my girls, I left them alone with the recipe, the ingredients, and the equipment. That was not enough support, because what came out of the oven did not resemble cake. Noticing it seemed thin before I put it in the oven, I asked her to read over each item on the recipe, to see if she forgot anything. She said she did everything.

The frosting I let her put together herself, and that ended up being a waste of money on ingredients too.

Granted, my girls were on chairs on both sides of her, and her brother and my boys were playing in the living room, so maybe that was too much stimulation for the amount of concentration needed.

Every girl interested should be taught to bake. I see it as a gift we can give young girls--a handmade, homemade gift they can bless their own families with, enjoyed on milestone occasions like birthdays and holidays. The wholesome flavor and aroma of homemade cake can be part of beloved family memories.

So, we have to start from scratch, and because I can't do much about the noise and interference from the other kids, I think I will have the ingredients already measured out, and have Miss L and my girls just combine them and do the beating and such--at least to start.

~ Are My Offerings Good Enough...Or Enough At All

When she's gone and I feel guilty for having watched the clock in anticipation of my "freedom", I feel like it's all a waste. Surely she can see the tension in me? How can any love I want to show come through, when the various strikes against her distract me from the very thing I want most to do--extend Christian love and grace and fellowship and teaching? I love her, but she's hard to love.

I feel like I have these meager loaves and fishes to offer, and I'm not even offering them with a pure heart. I don't have enough patience. I don't have enough time. I'm too nervous. My faith is too small. I wish she would bathe more and dress modestly and quit dying her hair with those store-bought bottles every other week, and what is her mother thinking anyway--can't she figure out why she's being bullied? And why is the exterior even an issue to me? I can't change those things--every family has their own rhythms and tastes and habits.

I'm thinking about how big the problems are, and about how many different problems there are, and it's overwhelming. What Kingdom contribution can I make here? Here is a girl with so many strikes against her, from a tough upbringing, to bullying at school, to teachers who are annoyed with her, to multiple disorders/disabilities, to a grandmother who has passed away.

Where will this little girl will be in 10 years, at 22. Will Miss L love her mother and have contact with her? Will Miss L love the Lord? Will she be working in a job she loves, or be finishing school, or be a happy Mom with a loving husband?

Lord, you are mighty. I give you now all these variables. They are not mine to contemplate, or to try to solve. Help me to love, to counsel, to give of my time, to provide a safe haven. Help my whole family to provide a picture of normalcy for these children. Multiply, magnify, and sanctify my imperfect offerings.

And thank you for the reminder that not one of us is any better than another.

Friday, September 26, 2014

A Lesson in Abiding


1 John 4:1
By this we know that we abide in Him and He in us, because He has given us of His Spirit.


The end-of-August tree-climbing accident is drawing to a close, thank the Lord. My son got his neck brace off on Monday. He can read two school books (historical fiction and non-fiction history) as long as the print is not too small, and he can do about 5 to 10 math problems, before getting a headache. That's progress!

It didn't look like we would be this far even a week ago; I'm very encouraged and also a little ashamed.

Did I abide in the Lord well during this crisis? Did I display the peace of the Holy Spirit, or did I search for information on concussions and neck sprains, wanting to know how long...how long...how long will he be like this, Lord?

I failed to abide. Abide means, in the KJV Bible dictionary, to rest or dwell.  I did not rest in the Lord. There were certain moments I got it right, but mostly I felt overwhelmed at multiple crises occurring simultaneously--it was almost like I was being set up for failure. 

Does the Lord teach us to abide by giving us one difficulty at a time? 

Well, no, I don't think so. Because wouldn't we be able to deal with one thing at a time pretty well? 

The Lord seems to teach us abiding by flooding us--thereby teaching us that we never had any control in the first place, so why not put our trust in (and spend adequate time with) the One who said: 

I am the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End. Revelation 22:13

As we complete the final stretch of the tree-climbing disaster, and start therapy for some nerve-wracking childhood anxieties that have given me the most unpleasant summer on record, I can honestly say, abiding is easier than worrying about (and researching) what-ifs.  
And abiding strengthens and frees us to do God's work. 

Think of worrying as being in chains in prison. You're grounded

During our crisis, our 12-year-old neighbor girl, Lexie, had one of her own. Her grandmother died suddenly of sepsis. Lexie became, not surprisingly, very needy, visiting here daily, crying, asking to come over for dinner almost nightly, and wanting to come in the house after school. I love that young lady, but I don't love her ODD, which drives me to tug at my own hair and lament the sin curse and all that it entails.

I comforted Lexie and her brother and we sent a meal, and we prayed and I listened to every report on her grandmother's condition, but the whole while I was falling apart with worry over what was going on here, and very stressed over my son's deteriorating behavior because of not having any structure or routine anymore (concussion brain-rest).

I felt awful that I was doing little to meet our young friend's ever-growing needs, especially after she revealed the fear that her mother would commit suicide. Lexie revealed that once when her mother was drunk, she talked about committing suicide (first mention of any drinking in the family). Based upon another comment uttered to Peter, I figured out that the grandfather and Lexie's mother both drink, and that they probably lost their enabler with the grandmother's passing.

The same day my son could read a chapter in a book again without a headache (and I experienced intense relief), the Lord spoke clearly about Lexie. Your own mother abused alcohol and you're still reeling from it. Lexie's mother abuses it too, and Lexie needs you to help her understand it. Soon, she will look to boys to comfort her. Show her the right way. Leave the outcome to Me, but put your neck out there and try. Let her know it's not her fault. She is not to be ashamed. She is not to try to solve it. She is to look to Me for comfort. 

For a few weeks Lexie's been asking to bake brownies with Mary. They like to play pretend cooking outside with pieces of plants and flowers and plates and utensils, but thus far I've said no about the baking due to being so overwhelmed with all I had to do (we started school last week and the lessons take all day now with chores starting late). But tomorrow, I will invite her for baking and ask how things are going and slowly begin to counsel her, one baby step at a time.

I will abide--I will rest in the Lord, because doing so strengthens me and frees me to do the Lord's will in my world. 

The Lord Jesus did not die on a tree so that I could focus on:

~how clean my house is and what Lexie will think of the messes, 
~how long it will take before my son can do a full school load after a concussion, 
~how long it will be before my son's infected mosquito bite looks improved, 
~whether superbugs will ever develop for which we have no effective antibiotics, 
~how long we will have to continue with speech class, 
~how long my daughter will look at the skies and cry about the dark clouds
~how long my son will be worried about throwing up from sugar, fat, heat exhaustion, germs...

There are so many things, so many bunny trails I can get lost on. And they all distract me and the enemy is so happy, isn't he? He loves it when I Google mosquito bites turned staph infections for 60 minutes (yes, I took him in and it is healing). God's Kingdom is certainly not growing when I am preoccupied with what might happen. So much easier to take three deep breaths and exhale...abide...abide...abide...

Your turn. When was the last time you had a lesson in abiding? Was it a time of flooding--many things going wrong at once, during which you learned you never had any control in the first place? Did you spend more time in the Word? Did you just sit quietly at the Lord's feet and listen? How did you abide?