The Holden Family

Our sweet Chloe died yesterday. She was 15 years old. In January of 2008, we were told Chloe had Lympho-sarcoma, and the prognosis without treatment gave her a few weeks to a few months to live. Being 13 years old at that time, with cocker spaniels living an average of 14 years, and given that she was completely deaf and partially blind from cataracts, we just didn’t see the sense in putting her through chemotherapy. We chose a plan of comforting care, and we told the kids she had cancer. They cried and cried that afternoon, Matthew especially, and they began that night praying for Chloe every single day. Each evening prayer began with “Please help Chloe get better” from all three kids.

I believe God answered that prayer in abundance. Chloe remained stable for two years after that afternoon. We watched her closely for signs of weakening or pain, but saw none. She still ate and drank, still chased cats in the yard and barked at the postman, and she still remained the sweetest dog you could ever imagine. About two weeks ago, I noticed a new tumor on Chloe’s shoulder. This one was hard and lumpy, not like the soft but enlarged lymph nodes that indicated her cancer elsewhere. And this one she had scratched open, so it bled daily and would not heal. I decided this week that it was time to take her back to the vet. Chris was with me, and in the vet’s waiting room, I happened to notice a thick feeling to Chloe’s ear as I petted her. I lifted her ear to find another open tumor, this one badly infected.

Dr. Muller, our vet, confirmed what our hearts feared. Chloe’s cancer had taken over her poor little body. The lymph nodes that should have been the size of a grain of corn had swelled all over her body, most as large as walnuts, and her immune system had been wiped out. There was nothing the vet could do to help her, and she was suffering. Dr. Muller said, “I have no medical explanation for why she has lived these two years. The cancer should have claimed her in six months at best.” The explanation is that God gave us a gift of extra time.

We took Chloe home for one last day at home. We wanted the children to have a chance to say goodbye. During the day, I let Chloe do whatever she wanted, sleep wherever she wanted. Usually we block the dogs’ access to the upstairs, but Chloe took advantage of the freedom to sleep in Matthew’s room for the afternoon. She found a bright spot of sunlight on the fllor where Matthew had left his bed pillow by perfect coincedence. Matthew’s room was once Mom’s office, and I know Chloe felt more at home there than anywhere. I believe she felt closer to Mom there.

My dad came over in the late afternoon, since Chloe was such a special part of his life as well. We all sobbed and hugged, and surrounded Chloe with love. It was excrutiating to see the kids in such grief. They have never experienced the death of a pet. It took some convincing to help them understand that euthanizing Chloe was the loving thing to do, that she was suffering greatly and that things would only get worse. I don’t know that I’ll ever get over the memory of seeing Matthew and Stephen as they held Chloe, not wanting to let her go.

Dad and I noticed that her breathing was somewhat labored, especially when she laid down. During the night, she coughed a lot. I think the large tumors/lymph nodes in her neck were compressing her windpipe. The next morning, the kids said one more goodbye before school, with many more tears. We shared a family hug. It hurt so much to anticipate what the day would bring. We had an appointment at the vet at 10:45. I gave Chloe lots of treats that morning, some of her favorite dog treats, some sausage, and some cheese. Chris and I spent some time just cuddling with her on the couch. We brought Lindy into our group, and though I don’t think she knew what was happening, it helped me to think that she had the chance to say goodbye to her sister as well.

It was surreal knowing the exact amount of time Chloe had left to live. It was hard not to second guess our decision, especially when I let her outside for a run and saw her trotting across the yard with her tail wagging. It was hard not to feel that I should be apologizing to Mom for letting Chloe go. All these years, I’ve felt so much responsiblility for Chloe, and have even felt like I haven’t done such a good job of caring for her, with my time and energy stretched across a large family with many pets. I know Mom knows I did the best I could.

Finally at the last minute, I picked up my camera. I wasn’t sure if it was right to be taking photos of Chloe. It almost felt morbid. But I wouldn’t get a second chance for these photos, and I knew I wanted one last shot of Chloe and Lindy together. Two beautiful sisters who were so lucky to share their lives together. Chris helped me finish the pictures and then we gathered Chloe to leave. As we walked out the door to the garage, I turned back to see Lindy in the kitchen watching us go. Her eyes were curious and sad. She knew.

At the vet, I held Chloe in my lap as we waited, stroking her back and rubbing her ears as she loved. She shook with fear when we first arrived but she calmed own. When they called us back, they had a towel spread on the counter on which she could lay, and she was quite calm to rest there. She didn’t try to get down or get away. Dr. Muller gave her a shot to make her fall asleep. I talked to her and rubbed her face as she drifted off, crouching beside her so she could see my eyes. Within a few minutes, she fell asleep very serenely. It was quiet and peaceful. Dr. Muller gathered her in his arms to carry her to the back, and I said, “Goodbye, Sweet Girl.” And that was it.

Chloe was my mother’s dog. When our first cocker spaniel, Corky, died at age 14 of congestive heart failure, my mother wasn’t sure when she wanted to get another dog. I pushed her though. I had recently graduated from college and was living at home for a while as I looked for a job. I had the idea that we would both get puppies from the same litter, and they could grow up together, even after I moved out on my own. We read the ads for cocker spaniel puppies and went to see a few. We lastly visisted a private family dog owner in Lilburn, who had 2 puppies left from her dog’s recent litter. They were pure-bred cockers but not champion lines. Exactly what we wanted … less risk for the negative inbreeding effects of cockers. Lindy was a dark beige with a face full of freckles, who jumped right in my lap and licked my face. She chose me. And Chloe was a light buff color, shy and sweet, who curled into Mom’s arms when she picked her up. They were perfectly matched as well. Chloe and Lindy came home with us that night.

Raising Chloe and Lindy was an adventure. Our vet told us, having two puppies at once was like having twin toddlers … what one didn’t think of, the other one would. It was true. I remember sitting on the floor in the evenings, exhausted from chasing puppies all day, holding a raw hide bone in each hand, a puppy chewing on each, just so they would sit still for a while. It was very sweet watching the sisters grow up together. We loved seeing how they’d curl up asleep together, looking like identical twins at time with synchronized breathing and sleeping positions. They were adorable playing in the yard, wrestling like wolf pups. They taught each other that biting hurts, so we didn’t have to. Sweet Chloe wasn’t the brighter of the two. She was put on this earth to love, not to think. It took her a while to learn her name, and when she did … when she finally realized that “Chloe” meant her, the look on her face when we called her name was almost giddy. Lindy learned everything else first as well. She learned to climb the steps first, leaving Chloe whimpering at the bottom. She also learned to jump onto the couch first. Now THAT was a funny process to watch. Lindy would sit on the couch looking down at Chloe, taunting her. Chloe tried jumping from sitting at first, getting very little loft in the attempt. Next she tried jumping from standing in front of the couch, but she would only jump straight up, not forward, so she’d land right back where she started. Then she got the idea that she needed to get a running start. She’d start back in the foyer and charge toward the sofa. But she’d start her jump too early, taking flight in the middle of the living room and landing about a foot in front of the couch, into which she would then crash head first! Poor Chloe! Her slow learning style and her way of generally ambling through life earned her the nickname, “Chloe Turtle”. But even without those extra IQ points, she knew how to love, and she did it better than any dog I’ve ever known.

When the pups were about a year old, I got my first apartment, and Lindy and I moved out. Mom heard the strangest sound one night. She couldn’t identify its source or location at first, but soon she found it … Chloe sitting in my bedroom downstairs, crying. It was something between a moan and a howl, Mom told me later. Chloe was devastated that her sister was gone. We made it a point right away to let the girls have time together as much as possible, so Lindy and I would visit a couple times each week, and Mom would bring Chloe whenever she came to visit me. The girls adapted to our new living arrangements soon enough and they always remained very close.

Chloe’s devotion to mom was unwavering. When Mom’s cancer came, and when the effects of the chemo weakened her, Chloe declined as well. She lost weight and her coat lost it sheen. She was ailing like her master. When Mom went into remission, Chloe’s health improved as well. She plumped up, and the spring came back in her step. When Mom died, it was only right that Chloe would come live with us. She knew no other family, and I hoped Lindy would offer her some comfort. Chloe grieved tremendously. I never heard the crying from her as Mom did when Lindy and I left. I think that was because our departure was unexpected. She didn’t know why or where Lindy had disappeared. But I believe she knew, she understood, that Mom was gone. Her instincts must have helped her recognize the natural end of Mom’s life. And so she didn’t cry for her return. But she did grieve. She aged so much in the years after that. I now saw her and Lindy side by side each day, and Chloe seemed like an old lady next to her twin.

Chloe found comfort in Lindy, but more so, she found comfort in Matthew. He was two years old when Mom died. I don’t know what drew her to him. It certainly wasn’t that she had a general fondness for kids, especially loudy, noisy ones who pulled her ears. Perhaps it was that she felt close to Mom when she was with Matthew, that she felt Mom’s presence hovering close to the grandson she loved so much. Or perhaps it was that she made a promise to mom to care for Matthew, to protect him and love him now that Mom was gone. Even when he was off at school or playing outside, I often found Chloe asleep in his room, in the beam of sunlight that came through the window over his bed. Their bond held fast the rest of her life.

Of course, my kids have asked me if our pets go to Heaven. Scripture does not give us a definite answer. But I want to believe they do. They are God’s creatures after all, and they love us unconditionally as He does. For many of us, they teach us what unconditional love truly is. Creatures of such devotion, such purpose, such love … what would Heaven be if they weren’t with us? I believe Chloe is in Heaven now. I believe she and Mom shared a joyful reunion, and I believe Mom greeted her with hugs and belly rubs, and praise for a job well done on earth. Good girl, Chloe. Good girl.

God woke me up this morning. As our day unfolded, I could see that he woke me up because he had work to do in my heart today. As I wrote this morning’s post about the boys’ baptisms, I felt the skepticism that I wrote about, the bit that lingered in me, melt away. I know it was no random chance that I woke up at 5 a.m. this morning.

I had a metabolism test scheduled at our gym at 8 a.m. this morning, a forced reschedule from Saturday. I was worried about making it on time to our 9 a.m. church service in time, where the boys were going to be introduced in their student groups in honor of their big day. The plan for me was to meet Chris and the kids at church, around the corner from our gym, after my test. I should be able to make it by 9 a.m. At the gym, the trainer was having trouble getting the computer to work. At 8:15, Chris texted me that his car wouldn’t start, and he was stuck at home with the kids. Back and forth my thoughts went in my head, but I knew the most important thing was to get the boys to church. So I rescheduled the test with the trainer and left. I picked up Chris and the kids by 8:30 and we made it to church on time. Coincidence? That the gym’s computer was down and Chris’ car wouldn’t start, which worked together to get me … us … to church on time?

When I was baptized in 2007, that Sunday’s sermon concluded with Todd Fields singing “Mighty to Save.” (Originally recorded by Hillsong United – I highly recommend a listen if you aren’t familiar with it.)  One of my favorite songs at the time, it now has become the song that reminds me of that day, of my own baptism and new life in Christ. Even the kids know of it now as my favorite song. Erica calls it “Jesus Conquered the Grave.” I stood that day with my family, with Stephen on my hip held with one arm, and my other arm around Matthew as we sang together.

Everyone needs compassion,
A love that’s never failing;
Let mercy fall on me.

Everyone needs forgiveness,
The kindness of a Saviour;
The Hope of nations.

Saviour, He can move the mountains,
My God is Mighty to save,
He is Mighty to save.

Forever, Author of salvation,
He rose and conquered the grave,
Jesus conquered the grave.

So take me as You find me,
All my fears and failures,
Fill my life again.

I give my life to follow
Everything I believe in,
Now I surrender.

My Saviour, He can move the mountains,
My God is Mighty to save,
He is Mighty to save.
Forever, Author of salvation,
He rose and conquered the grave,
Jesus conquered the grave.

Shine your light and let the whole world see,
We’re singing for the glory of the risen King…Jesus

Shine your light and let the whole world see,
We’re singing for the glory of the risen King…Jesus

My Saviour, He can move the mountains,
My God is Mighty to save,
He is Mighty to save.
Forever, Author of salvation,
He rose and conquered the grave,
Jesus conquered the grave.

My Saviour, you can move the mountains,
You are mighty to save,
You are mighty to save.
Forever, Author of Salvation,
You rose and conquered the grave,
Yes you conquered the grave.

This morning, I felt my heart stutter as the first notes to the song began, this time led by Eddie Kirkland in our morning worship. They haven’t performed that song in our church in quite a while. It was a surprise to hear it. I sang from my heart as I remembered that day two years ago, and anticipated the day ahead of me. Coincidence? Of course not, God whispered. Tears streamed down my face. That was the moment today when I realized that God was orchestrating every detail.

After a special visit to our favorite breakfast restaurant, we came home to a hectic afternoon. I laid down with Erica to coax her to sleep, smelling the maple syrup mingling with the scent of her hair and skin, a moment of sweet peace in the busy day. I dozed off with her and we slept for an hour. Then it was up for the whirlwind of getting ready, not to mention getting Chris’ car to Sears for a new battery. Finally, out the door we went on the way to church at 2:45. More hectic pace there – I’ll skip the details – and at last the ceremony began. They opened with the song “Happy Day”, one which Stephen often sings at full volume and with even greater enthusiasm, and a song which always reminds me of him when I hear it. Coincidence?

All of the children being baptized today recorded videos last week, sharing just a bit of their stories, their favorite Bible passages, and so on. We didn’t get to see them until today. Matthew and Stephen were sweet, handsome, genuine, and so cute on their videos. They both did a wonderful job. I’ll never forget how Stephen recited his favorite Bible verse, Psalm 139:14, ending with “Your works are wonderful. I know that FULL well.” He put extra emphasis on “FULL well” and closed with his adorable, spirited smile. And I’ll always remember in Matthew’s video, his quotation of Genesis 1:31, “And God saw all that he had made and it was very good.” He then said, “I really agree with that, because I love Nature and Nature is the only thing that calms me down when I feel sad.”

Matthew was baptized first, followed immediately by Stephen. They were both baptized by Mike Teston, the same pastor who baptized me, who is also the husband of their school’s principal, Kathy Teston. We were so happy Mike accepted when we asked him to baptize the boys. The symmetry of that was so fitting. We told Mike today that we hope he can be the one to baptize Erica when she’s ready.

Erica watched the entire ceremony calmly, and she was so excited to see her big brothers up there, especially on the large video screens. She squealed and pointed to them. After their baptisms, they came back to the auditorium, and all the baptized kids were sitting in a section directly across the aisle from us. Erica spotted Matthew and ran over for a big hug. I could see on his face that meant the world to him.

Closing worship was loud, vibrant, and joyful – true to Northpoint’s style. The final song was Steve Fee’s “We Shine.” That one happens to be one of Matthew’s favorites. Our kids call it the “Cool Song” and at one time asked us to play it over and over in the car. Coincidence?

The ceremony concluded with a family prayer. We joined the boys at the stage, along with Dad, Larry, & Brenda, and some friends who gathered with us. We prayed over the boys, as Chris thanked God for each of them and asked him to be with them as they enter the world, as they face temptations and sins and all the other worldly evils, and asked him to guide us and grant us wisdom as parents in raising them.

Then it was off to the party hosted by the church, in keeping with their theme for the day of the “Family Birthday Celebration.” Balloons, brightly colored cupcakes, and our family and friends. Both of the boys’ teachers came today, along with many of our dear friends, including the Harshes, and Miss Cherice, the boys’ OT. Matthew and Stephen had friends come as well, including the Eppingers (Matthew’s best friend, Brett) and the Volks (Stephen’s friend, Andrew) and their small group leaders. Miss Alexis, Stephen’s preschool teacher from a few years ago was even there to celebrate with us. What an honor to see my children surrounded with so much love today. How blessed we are as a family by the people around us. How blessed we are to share this life in Christ.

I pray that the memory of this day is one my boys’ recall often. I hope they remember it as the celebration it was, but that they also remember it as a day abundant in love – love from their family and friends, love from their Heavenly father, and love from each other. Forever, when they remember their baptism, they will not only remember the milestone it was in their walk with the Lord, but they will remember sharing it together. They are brothers, they are best friends … how perfect that they should take this step hand in hand.

Now that you have purified yourselves by obeying the truth so that you have sincere love for your brothers, love one another deeply, from the heart. For you have been born again, not of perishable seed, but of imperishable, through the living and enduring word of God. Peter 1:22-23

I’m awake early today. It is now shortly after 5 a.m. I haven’t slept in a few days. I’m the lightest sleeper in the world, and unfortunately Chris has been suffering some sinus congestion thanks to allergies and seasonal germs and he has been snoring a bit. Night before last, even though Chris graciously went downstairs to sleep at 2 a.m. knowing he was keeping me up, I couldn’t get back to sleep. I was miserable with sleep deprivation. So last night, my dear husband gave me the bed alone to catch up on sound sleep, and I did sleep deeply from 10:30 to 5:00.

But then I woke up for a second, and I thought about what lies ahead today. And I couldn’t get back to sleep. I was wide awake with emotion and anticipation.

Matthew and Stephen will be baptized together today. My cup overflows.

Matthew has always been an insightful and spiritual child. He has had a heart for God, and for sharing the gospel, since a very young age. About a year ago, he told us nonchalantly that he was praying alone in his room one night and asked Jesus to live in his heart. It was just natural to him. It was a choice, but one that he found very instinctual. At the time, we asked him if he would like to be baptized. He is shy by nature, and he wasn’t ready for the public profession. He was intimidated by the video testimony that our church does, and he said he was afraid of heights. (Our church’s baptismal pool is high off the ground so the large congregation can see.) So we didn’t push him. The choice of baptism was between him and God. It took me three years to take that step after I accepted Christ, and I understood his hesitancy.

Matthew’s 1st grade teacher, Mrs. Allen, gave Matthew a gift at the end of the school year. It was a children’s daily devotional workbook. Over the summer, we went through the devotional wih the children. I loved hearing their insight as their comprehension of Jesus grew. Stephen had a lot of question, and I could tell he was processing a lot of ideas and lessons. Matthew was loving and wise at guiding his little brother through many of the concepts. He is a natural teacher.

In late September of this year, as the children and I were driving home in the car one evening, Stephen told me with his signature enthusiasm that he had prayed the night before to ask Jesus into his heart. He said he just couldn’t wait any longer. He wanted to be a part of God’s family and he wanted to live with Jesus in his heart forever. He was so sweet and excited about his news. I smiled through tears as we talked, still driving home. He shared the news with Chris later that evening.

Stephen began telling everyone about his news – his teachers, small group leaders, his occupational therapist. He has been shouting it to the rooftops. That’s Stephen’s style, after all. And I love it.

Stephen is always up for any new adventure, and he was eager to be baptized right away. As we talked about it with him at the dinner table, Matthew decided he was ready, too. I can’t express how much my heart swells today that they will be baptized together. I can’t imagine anything that could make this day more special than it would already be for both of them.

I admit, as a relatively new Christian, I have sparks of skepticism in these last few weeks. I wondered if children aged 6 and 8 could really understand the commitment they are making to Christ. Is it “real”? Or are they just following some line of training we have been subconciously laying for them, through church, school, and nightly family prayers? But then I realize that my skepticism is a product of my own life, the majority of which was lacking in exposure to the gift of Christ’s sacrifice for us. (My skepticism is also not born within my own mind, but has been introduced by an outside force, one who hates my faith in God and would do anything to derail it.) Mom and other people in my family taught me basics like the Christmas story, and I knew what the cross symbolized. But no one ever really told me that Jesus loved me personally, that he wanted to be a part of my life. I always knew Jesus died for the sins of the world, but I never realized that he died for MY sins. I never knew he loved me so much.

What a precious, miraculous gift that my children know that! Their hearts are pure and innocent. They aren’t clouded with the skepticism of a lost world. How thankful I am for that! Today they have the opportunity to profess their love for their savior with more purity, more faithfulness, more honesty, and more genuine love than most adults could ever imitate.

“Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” – Matthew 19:14

No matter what my children face in their life, no matter how they might even stray from their Father in the future, Jesus will always be with them. The same God who gave them life and breath will forever be their best friend, one who will love them unconditionally, and one who will save them a spot beside him in Heaven for eternity.

My children will never receive a more precious gift than this. … Except perhaps on the day that they see their children baptized.

“He called a little child and had him stand among them. And he said: “I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. And whoever welcomes a little child like this in my name welcomes me.” – Matthew 18:2-4

Last year … Matthew was beginning 1st grade. We’d known for some time that he had trouble with attention in school. He’s a daydreamer, full of imagination, creatively inclined like his mommy. I struggle with attention as well. I’m great at getting started on any task, but lousy at finishing … I have usually begun 4 other projects before I finish the first, IF I finish the first. As Matthew began the school year, we were hopeful that he could get by as he had in years prior. And as the year got into swing, “getting by” wasn’t going so well. His teacher and his doctor encouraged us to try some ADHD medication to help Matthew. Chris and I talked and prayed and Googled and talked and prayed more. Finally, in November, we decided to give it a go.

We started Matthew on 20mg of Vyvanse on a Wednesday morning. We didn’t tell his teacher. That afternoon, he sat down to do his homework without prompting. He finished it in record time. He said please and thank you without reminders. Wow. On Friday, Chris and I went in for a conference with his teacher. She started off by saying, “I’m not sure what happened, but on Monday and Tuesday, Matthew was his usual self … a bit hyper, easily distracted, and talking a lot during the lessons. But on Wednesday and every day sense, he came in and wrote down his assignments, he was calm all day, he had self control. He’s like a different kid.” We smiled and told her about the meds. We thought we’d found the answer to helping our child succeed in school.

But as his attention and focus improved in school, we saw some changes in Matthew. He was more serious in general. He didn’t laugh as often. He didn’t show much affection anymore, and only responded half-heartedly to a hug or smile. I found myself asking him often if he was ok, because he looked so sad. At first, I thought it was part of the natural maturity of a child. And though I missed his hugs and cuddles, I accepted it as part of growing up. Every child pulls away from his parents at some point. His teacher continued to rave about his academic work.

In early Spring, Matthew started showing some very strange behavior. Cleaning his room one day, I found a stash of candy wrappers from his Easter candy, stashed in a corner of his closet. The next day I found even more, and asked him about it. He said he was waking up in the middle of the night feeling hungry. I talked with him about nutrition and told him I was happy to let him have a healthy snack before bed, because it made sense he’d be hungry at night as the medicine suppressed his appetite during the day. And so we began giving him a large snack just before bed, which he always ate. But I continued to find food in his room. He told me he was getting up while Chris and I slept and sneaking down to the pantry. One morning, I found an enormous amount of food wrappers and crumbs, what would have been thousands of calories worth of food.

We also found evidence of more alarming behavior, including what appeared to suggest he’d climbed out of his window on the roof! He told us he was looking for his lost boomerang. He’s normally very afraid of heights, so getting out in the roof in the middle of the night was shockingly out of character for him. Along with all of this, he was irritable, and even belligerent at times. In one playground episode, he’d try to choke his friend during a disagreement. He was a sad, lost, unhappy child. His doctor suggested we first take him off the meds, and then consider psychological testing if things didn’t change … how frightening it is to hear things like “bipolar disorder” and “obsessive compulsive disorder” in relation to your child!

With two weeks left in school, we sent our apologies to his teacher, but no matter what the impact on his school work, he was getting off the meds. Upon his doctor’s advice, we stopped cold turkey. And we prayed our way through the last two weeks of school. I prayed that the behavior was a side effect of the medication, because if it wasn’t we had a much more overwhelming journey ahead. I cried so many tears. I thanked God the summer was here, so we had a couple of months to figure out what to do. I was terrified to try another medication.

As I prayed, a realization became crystal clear in my head. God loved my child even more than I did. No matter what challenges lay ahead of us, God knew each and every one, and he had a plan to help Matthew and us through them. And very soon, within a few days, Matthew was hugging me again. And he was laughing again. And he was asking to cuddle before bed. The strange behaviors stopped. No more crazy stunts and binge eating. The anger and sadness drifted away. He was playing with Stephen and Erica as he had before, giggling as a child should giggle. Hearing that sound was like hearing a symphony within my house, a sound I almost didn’t recognize was silenced. It wasn’t that he’d been maturing, or pulling away from his parents. It was the medication dampening his spirit, silencing his laughter. And now … I had my child back! Oh, thank you, Lord, for bringing my child back to me!

In the summer months, as I cherished this reunion with my precious son, I came to terms with his attention challenges. So what if straight A’s were  not in his future? I can live with C’s, as long as my child is happy and emotionally healthy. But then I got the news that Matthew as going to be in Mrs. Ramsey’s class for 2nd grade. Mrs. Ramsey is known for being very structured and very strict. I admit, I was intimidated by her. I had even hoped he’d have the other 2nd grade teacher, who seemed more warm and fuzzy. My anxiety about school started to build in early August as the first day approached.

On the first day of school, as I pulled in to carpool, I saw the kids on the sidewalk waiting to be picked up. Matthew’s face was so sad. He stared into space ahead of him. When he got in the car, he told me it was the worst day of his life, that they “actually had to do WORK on the first day!” (Toto, we aren’t in Kansas anymore!) He said that he was so distracted, he couldn’t finish his work and the other children laughed at him. On the 2nd day of school, he was still unhappy and frustrated. My heart ached for him. On the third day of school, he got in the car with tears streaming down his face. “Mommy, why can’t you homeschool me so I won’t have to go back?!” Oh, how my heart ached!

Being determined to be proactive for my children this year, I’d already had a conference scheduled with Mrs. Ramsey. I took Matthew to the playground where our babysitter met us to watch the kids, and I went back into school. I tried to dry the tears I was already crying for Matthew. It didn’t work. As I sat down with Mrs. Ramsey, and as I told her what he’d said in the car, I started crying again. I told her the whole story of the past year, and why we weren’t going to try meds again yet. She listened with very concerned, supportive eyes. She was so thankful for my sharing the background, and she immediately had suggestions for strategies to help Matthew in class. She moved his desk to the front the next morning, and made sure he was sitting some distance from his best buds who be a social distraction. She suggested we give him a daily checklist, which listed each of the subjects or tasks he would need to complete each day … Morning Agenda, Phonics, Science, Math, Social Studies, Bible, etc. … nine in all. When he stayed focus through a task and completed the day’s objective for that subject, he would get a smiley face on his list. If he didn’t, he would simply get a line marked through it. We would focus on the accomplishments and not on the distractions. She said that she considered 5 out of 9 tasks completed to be a GREAT day. And if he completed at least 5 of 9 all week, he would get a reward on the weekends.

Almost immediately, he was coming home with 6’s and 7’s. Lately, he even has many 8’s and 9’s. But most importantly, he is getting in the car smiling again. He is loving school again. He is happy. (I still get several enthusiastic hugs every day, most of which are initiated by him.)

This week, Chris and I met with Mrs. Ramsey for our first conference. Matthew’s report card was glowing … all A’s with just one B in penmanship, and one C in “strives to do neat work.” Mrs. Ramsey positively raved about Matthew. She said he is a delight in class, and a wonderful student. She finds it ironic that he hates Math, because he is so good at it. She gushed on that he is one of the best Math students she has seen. She said his natural gift for Math and Critical Thinking is “off the charts!” and that there is no telling what he can accomplish with those skills. She said, “God has truly gifted him with a brilliant mind.” She told us that he can sometimes come up in his head with a solution to a math problem that she hadn’t even thought of yet. She also commented on his spiritual gifts, having such a heart for God, and his tenderness and loyalty for his friends.

God loves my child more than I do. He also knows better than I do what my child needs. When we’d veered off course with the medication, God got him off the medication. When I hoped for the “warm and fuzzy” teacher, God chose a better one by placing him with Mrs. Ramsey, who is obviously perfect for him. (And by the way, now that I know her, she is warm and fuzzy, too. She is absolutely wonderful. She may become one of my favorite teachers in the school this year.) God led us out of anxiety, uncertainty, and worry into a bright, hopeful place where my child is thriving. Oh, how he loves us!

Last night, Matthew said, “Mommy, will we ever have garlic bread again?” I said, “Yes, I’m sure at some point in the next 30 yrs, we’ll have garlic bread.” He then said, “So, then I’ll be 38, Stephen will be 36…, and Erica will be 33.” Chris and I both almost choked on our dinner. We weren’t prepared for that dose of reality.

Time is flying by. Six months since my last post here. I always tell myself to slow down and record the every day moments, but I feel stuck on this speeding train called Life and I can’t find the brake.

This morning, as I dropped Matthew off at school, he was fumbling with his bookbag, while cars waited impatiently behind me in the carpool line. I snapped at him to hurry up out of the car. Instantly I regretted it, rushing him off like that. I called out, “I love you!” as he ran into school, but he either didn’t hear me or just chose not to respond. And the the door closed behind him. I drove home fighting off tears. How quickly he is growing up, and how easily I let Life pressure me, get me in a hurry, and steal a simple moment as my child heads off to school. It made me realize that this one morning is a symbol of my children’s lives in general. Hurry up and grow up. I don’t want them to, of course. I want them to slow down and stay little. But how can I expect that, if I’m rushing through the days … am I not rushing the years along just as much?

I realize I have very little time left before Matthew starts tuning me out as a parent and starts tuning in the other worldly factors that offer him a sense of purpose and acceptance. That time seems so painfully short. Now might be my only opportunity to strengthen our relationship, to earn a meaningful place in his sphere of influence.

And what kind of mood did I send Matthew off with? Did I send him off with a sense of his mother’s love, her support for him in his day, her pride in the young man he is becoming, and her belief in the potential he has to make a difference in the world? Or did I send him off feeling inadequate, uncoordinated, and just not good enough. Tears stream down my face now as I realize it was the latter. Please, Lord, let me remember this morning forever, so I can make sure it never happens again. And please give me the grace and wisdom to fix any damage I did to his precious heart.

In other news, here’s what we’ve been up to …

Chris has been often overwhelmingly busy with work. The economy of our country is in a horrible state, so we are constantly thankful that Chris has such a secure job with a good salary. But it does come with a price. He works long hours, often in the middle of the night when the weekly (or daily) emergency happens. The kids and I miss him as so many of those hours must be in the office and not at home as his past jobs offered. We both pray often for direction and guidance in his career. I am hopeful there is a light at the end of the tunnel as they increase their staff.

My business is going well. I am in the thick of my busy holiday season, and thankfully it has been much more manageable this year compared to past years. Looking at my finances, I see that my sales are down this year by nearly 40%. That’s a painful reality of the state of our country. But I am so blessed in that I’ve been able to cut back as much, or more, on expenses this year. So my net income has remained just about the same. I’m putting off the new camera equipment, computer upgrades, etc. until next year. I’m so glad those things are optional at this point.

Erica is in the “Junior” room at her preschool this year. It’s the 3 Year Old class, and though she only turned 3 last month, making her the youngest child in the class, her 2 Year teacher insisted on promoting her. She thought she’d be too bored in the younger class for another year. She is a very smart child, and she’s holding her own quite well with the older children. She loves doing “homework” after school, when the boys work on theirs. Her teacher sends home copies of the worksheets they do in class … coloring pages, tracing letters and numbers, and tracing her name … and Erica pours much time and energy into them. She loves to color and will beg for more “homework” when she finishes the pages I give her. She still loves all things pink, and all things princess. She is silly and very energetic these days, which can be a challenge at times, but one flash of her beautiful smile and she is again irresistably cute.

Stephen is in Pre1st at FCS (Fellowship Christian School) this year. He’s six years old. His teacher, Prudy Hughes, was Matthew’s teacher two years ago. She is amazing. She believes her job is to discover how God has wired each child as an individual, and then determine how to tailor her educational strategies to meet that child’s needs. We see that philosophy in everything she does. Stephen has made tremendous progress with Occupational Therapy in the last year, and he is thriving in school. He has good friends and arrives home smiling every day. He’s still a very enthusiastic and upbeat child. He lights up a room.

Matthew is 8.5 years old and in 2nd grade, in Margaret Ramsey’s class. When I learned over the summer that Mrs. Ramsey would be his teacher, I admit I was a little worried. I had heard she was a very strict teacher. And this year, we have kept Matthew off his ADHD medication. (Last year he had a bad reaction to the meds, and we aren’t yet comfortable trying any new ones, though we aren’t ruling them out in the future.) The first week of school was quite rough, as Matthew was overwhelmed in his class, having trouble keeping up, and feeling very embarrassed by that. He got in the car crying on the third day of school, begging me to homeschool him so he didn’t have to go back. That afternoon, I met with Mrs. Ramsey in a conference we already had scheduled. I told her everything about Matthew, our experience in past classrooms and our experience with the medication. I even broke down crying myself, my heart hurting so much for Matthew and his struggles. She thanked me for sharing so much detail, and immediately suggested some classroom strategies she would implement to help him. We saw a turn-around right away. Within a week, he was loving school again, and doing well. His grades are great – mostly A’s, one B in Math, and a C in penmanship. Chris and I are thrilled with those grades, especially given the anxiety we had entering this year. And we adore Mrs. Ramsey. We can see now just why God put Matthew in her class, and she has been a huge blessing for our family. Matthew is still a voracious reader, and loves science and fantasy & adventure stories. He has a vivid imagination and a wise insight into the world.

That’s our life! The speeding train that it is.