don't tell Him what to do

My ADHD son threw tantrums more than once on three consecutive days this week.  Feeling exhausted and helpless to change our plight, I am reminded of a similar situation back in 1999-2000.

I was a teacher in my eighth year of first grade.  The school office "gifted" me with multiple behavior problems, thinking that I could "fix" them.  I had a reputation for being firm but loving.

Little did they know, however, that working with angry kids wasn't my strong point.  Angry and defiant children made me angry.  I didn't know this about myself, or understand it.

After the first three months of school I experienced stress-induced health problems.  In addition, I was angry with the office staff.  How dare they?  Did they have no idea what they were doing when they made these decisions?

I finally went to my principal--a friend and father figure--asking to have some of my class broken up.  No small matter for a principal, obviously.   This man, by the way, had given the blessing at my wedding the summer before, at my request.  He had prayed for my salvation, along with the office ladies, since I began working there in 1992.  I became a Christian in 1997, very grateful for their collective prayers.

Needless to say, I was very fond of him and wanted him to think well of me.  I tried to stick it out for his sake.

He was not pleased with me, I could tell.  They all thought I was having first-year marriage problems, and that my stress was linked to that, rather than to the behavior problems they saddled me with.  Their impression was far from reality.  That too, fueled my anger.  No one can understand the pressure a teacher is under when there are multiple behavior problems contributing to constant stress in a classroom.

My principal wasn't known for his toughness.  He never used any interventions that worked, which may have been due to the nature of the problems our children brought to school.  Even though we had a Healthy Start building on our grounds to help low-income families with various needs, we still dealt with a lot of angry kids.

If things aren't stable and supportive at home, children can't be expected to slough off all that worry and stress as soon as they walk through a school building.  This alone is why public schools have limited effectiveness.  They simply can't be everything to every child, in a institutional setting.  Nurturing occurs primarily in the home, with loved ones.  With divorces so prevalent and with poverty still a reality in our society, not to mention alcohol and drug abuse, children are often confused and angry with needs that go unmet.

Anyhow, back to my particular plight that year.  One day suspensions were a last resort; my principal used them a few times that year.  Sadly, nothing changed upon the child's return.  Sending kids to the office was only a temporary bandaid; I avoided it when I could.  Still, it kept me from blowing my top more than once.

In this extremely low-income area, the problems kids came to school with were just too complicated and pervasive to solve with suspensions.  They wondered, often, if they would get evicted from their apartment in any given month; stability was not something they had ever experienced.

I often think that our current low-income status purposely puts me in a position to finally understand what those families were going through.  Most of them didn't have the Lord, as I do.  Instead, they had alcohol or drugs, or strings of unsuccessful, abusive relationships.  I know the constant stress of financial insufficiency.  It is huge, and they had no effective tools to help them cope.  Shame on me for not trying harder to put myself in their shoes.

Is my current situation my payback, I sometimes wonder?  Was it the only way the Lord could teach me mercy?  During that time I do remember scoring very low on mercy in a spiritual gifts inventory.  I was high in faith, discernment, and exhortation, while very low in mercy, helps and hospitality.

Another first grade teacher offered to take two of my behavior problems.  The principal was grateful to her, but still not happy with me.  This particular teacher was newer and had weak classroom management skills, but she was fresh.  I, on the other hand, suffered from burn out, which unfortunately is very common among teachers. Most actually leave the field within ten years.

The changes were made.

I was left with a few moderate behavior problems, and one extremely severe one.  I didn't know it at the time, but the child suffered from severe ADHD, with aggression and oppositional defiant disorder.  The year after I had him he pulled a knife on two girls on the playground (after school).  He was expelled, and then made the rounds to all the schools in the district, getting expelled multiple times.  Finally, I heard, my old school had to take him back, years later.  It was their turn again.

I had to take anti-anxiety medicine the year I taught him.  It was one of the most difficult years of my life.  Still today, I get knots in my stomach thinking about it.

Do you know what I told the Lord when I was pregnant with Peter, about two years after that hellish year?

"Whatever you do Lord, please don't give me someone like Terrell.  I can't handle it.  I can't parent an angry child, Lord.  Please don't do that to me."

My husband, for his part, used to work with mentally challenged individuals, as a direct care worker.  They threw tantrums frequently.   When I was pregnant with Peter, husband's prayer was that we not have a child who suffered from mental or psychiatric problems (someone who was hard to handle, basically).

And here we are.  And here Peter is.  And here are daily difficulties, not remedied by medication, and only slightly improved by interventions.

Lesson in all this?

Don't tell the Lord what to do.  Rest in him, draw wisdom and strength from him, praise him, live for him.

Just don't tell him what to do.  And don't waste your time being angry.

Give thanks for the opportunity.  Every hardship is an opportunity.....to get closer to Him.....to do His work.

currently blessing me

- Sometimes in regards to my marriage, I start a statement in my mind such as "I wish my husband could fix things around the house."  Or, "I wish my husband liked babies more."  Or, "I wish my husband got along better with our ADHD son."

The Holy Spirit stops me short every time, reminding me that the seeds of discontent start as soon as I think about what I don't have.  It's better, the Holy Spirit tells me, to say to myself, "I'm glad my husband never says unkind things to me."  And, "I'm glad my husband supports our homeschooling and helps whenever he can."  And, "I'm glad my husband knows the Lord and can teach us the Bible in its entirety."  The Lord is growing me up, little by little.  He takes me right where I'm at and inches me forward day by day.

- My daughters, sitting in the recycling boxes and singing "Row Your Boat" with me.

- My Beth and her love for all fruits--especially berries.

- My Mary loving to do chores.

- My Paul, who loves geography and does different things with his map puzzles every day.

- My Peter, who loves the natural world as much as I love chocolate.  Another way to put it:  As much as I need chocolate, he needs the natural world.

- Our yard and its sufficiency for our children.

- Online friends, who encourage and support.  Thank you, Connie!  Bless you!

- Hardships, to grow us up.

- Failures, to put our pride in check.

- My children, making up their own games, like flag football, played with stuffed animals inside their pants.

- The window in our playroom, which provides much amusement.  We couldn't keep our baby from climbing up on it, so we moved the couch in front of it, providing a safe means for window observation.  I think of it as the "observation deck".  They've watched many Momma Robin feedings out that window. And many squirrel adventures.

My Paul, who said during lunch, "Mommy, you're a good mommy."  Don't know why he said that, but it was uttered at just the right time.

- My Beth, sitting quietly in the playroom, contentedly trying on Daddy's socks.

- Mealtime Scripture, which continues to bless us and grow us.

- Bear Feels Sick,  from the Bear series picture books.  It is Mary's current favorite.  She loves that bear's friends so lovingly nurse him back to health, and vice versa.  Precious story.  Precious, loving daughter, to catch on to the lovely spirit contained in the tender story lines.

blessings and wonders

- My Paul, cheering at each and every firework.  The surrounding crowd enjoyed his enthusiasm as much as the fireworks themselves.

- My Paul, splashing in the waves at a lake beach, wearing a perpetual giggle.

- My anxiety-ridden Peter, beating a fear of the water and thoroughly enjoying himself in the lake.  He begs daily now to go back to the lake.

- My Mary, making her first sand castle.  She had such a good time building it with Auntie Lorrie and Daddy, that Auntie Lorrie took pity and bought some sand for our sandbox.  A huge summer blessing for our kids, but just plain sad for Mommy and Daddy, because we couldn't provide the sand ourselves.  Our pride is getting the best of us lately, I'm afraid.

- Auntie Lorrie ( my sister-in-law) and I are slowly becoming friends, rather than just relatives through marriage. We are so different that the first ten years of my eleven year marriage were kind of rocky, relational wise, between Lorrie and myself.  Never any fighting or anything--just typical in-law tension.  That is all gone, thank the Lord.

- James, the disabled bachelor I wrote about, had a very nice visit with our family and with Lorrie.  I'm sorry he had to go home to an empty house.  The kids really took to him, even though they hadn't seen him for two years.  At the end of the visit, on Tuesday morning, Mary said to me, "Mommy, I love James."  I suggested she go and tell him.  He was blessed!  The children wore him out, as usual, as well as Lorrie.  Both James and Lorrie always take a slow day at home to recover from their visits, telling us they just don't know how we do it day after day.  Grace of God, I tell them.

- I haven't heard any specifics yet, but my blogging buddy Jess probably had her baby around the 4th.  This baby is her fourth blessing.  She has a two, five, and eight year old at home.  Nothing prepares you for that.  Please pray for a smooth couple months with baby, with nursing, and with the older children.  Please also pray for help with meals, errands, childcare and housework.

- We're about done with our third Dr. Dolittle book.  Our county has no more of these stories available, but the librarian is searching all of Ohio for us.  Yeah!

- This post, for its reminder about what is really important.

- Our eleventh anniversary, celebrated with an Olive Garden lunch, thanks to Lorrie and James.

Sunscreen Guide 2010

Important ingredients to avoid include Vitamin A (accelerates cancerous tumor growth) and oxybenzone (disrupts hormones).

Here is the best guide for 2010.  Click on the highlighted phrase "tells you what you need to know" once you get to the website.

feeling the moment

Baby Beth's breathing steadies, finally, at 6:30 p.m.

My sweet Mary, filled with The Three Little Pigs, Goldilocks And The Three Bears, and prayer with snuggles, sees Momma blow her last kiss goodnight, around eight.

Two down, two to go.

Though tired, I gladly pull Dr. Dolittle: A Treasury off our library shelf and take it to the playroom.

Paul, his face lit up, stops his Lego project and jumps to the couch.  "Time for Dr. Dolittle!" he quips.

Peter takes his place on my other side.

Thank goodness for nursings and storytimes, giving mommas everywhere proper times for pause.

Dr. Dolittle and his extraordinary animal family quickly hook us.

"Dr. Dolittle is very kind", offers my Paul, three chapters into tonight's adventures.  "He puts everyone above himself."

"Yes, I agree.  I suspect that the author, Hugh Lofting, might be a Christian."

"Can you believe the kinds of stories people think up?  These are amazing!", Paul adds.

Yes, indeed.  I come to the same conclusion nightly.  Just wow.

The magic of the moment captures me tonight.  Powerfully.

My two boys, shoulder to shoulder with me.  Night after night.  Our bonds strengthening through stories shared.

I stop the flow of words to kiss each cheek.

"I love you, boys.  Besides my nursing times, I find reading to you the most wonderful part of my days.

"You do?", wonders Peter.

"Yes.  Momma feels so close to you.  So in love with her boys."

"Thank you", Peter says, feeling the moment.

"Let's get back to the story now", Paul suggests.

"Okay, Paul.  We'll do that", I say, amused at the differences in my boys' personalities.

One, so sentimental and careful.  The other, so enthusiastic and expressive.

How I love them, Lord!