Hurry up and wait…

I’ve spoken to the director of the agency who owns the group home we want Thomas to live at. In turn he, the director; spoke to the person from the state who is in charge of finding a group home for Thomas. The director informed state guy that we want Thomas in his group home, I called state guy and told him Tommy and I want Thomas in that particular group home. Sounds simple right? No. Now state guy needs to see if the state and the powers that be, will approve Thomas leaving his current school before he turns 21. I’m not good at waiting. Not good at all.

We need prayers guys! Prayers that this is God’s will that Thomas is to live in this group home. I told state guy that we are totally okay with Thomas leaving his school before he turns 21. I get almost giddy to think he could be living so close to us. I imagine simply having him over for dinner, going to the mall just “because” on a Wednesday night, walking down to the “famous” Italian ice place down the street on a summer night… Not having to schedule and plan every single visit. Don’t get me wrong I adore the staff where Thomas is now and they have been completely accommodating to us and it will be difficult to leave them, but it’s time for a move and I pray this is God’s plan for us. But for now we wait. I don’t like waiting and not knowing. This is so out of our hands: But I know it is in God’s hands.

And so I pray. And I ask my prayer warriors to join me.

Waiting on the group home and social media…

It’s been over a week since we visited the group home. We are now waiting, praying and hoping Thomas gets in. I haven’t heard anything from anybody. Nothing from the agency director and nothing from the pushy guy from the state. I guess no news is good news. I know for certain we won’t hear anything until God feels it’s time for us to know. I’m a firm believer in God’s timing. His timing is perfect and always *right*. This isn’t to say I’m not worried or anxious, I am but not in a frantic way. If Thomas doesn’t get in to this group home there will be another one out there that will fit him and us perfectly.

I’ve been reintroduced to Twitter. I started an account a while ago when I was selling at flea markets and such but then stopped. I have a handful of followers and that’s fine. I started following my daughters and their friends…haha! Should be interesting. I’ve also reintroduced myself to Instagram. I’m “Nayaudo” on Instagram if you’re so inclined to follow me. All this social media, whew! I finally feel caught up, a little.

Life is good. Still full of bumps and bruises here and there but overall good and I’m glad to be here. Scored some awesome finds at the thrift, that’s always a good thing. I’ve finally discovered my happy place, well one of them anyway. You guessed it the Thrift store. I don’t worry about anything when I’m there. I know I’ve written about this before. I just concentrate on the thrill of the hunt, what am I going to find? OHMYGOSH is that my size?! Just a sampling of what goes on in my head when I’m there. Every now and then I’ll text my daughters asking them if they want something I’ve found. Today I sent my Alyssa a picture of these awesome red jeans. Lucky brand no less and in my size! But…I had no idea how to style/wear them. Alyssa sends me back a pic of a woman wearing a black and white striped shirt and a black sweater over the top with you guessed it red denim. Low and behold I was able to copy the exact look at the thrift store. I’m thrilled and Alyssa got a good laugh and tweeted about me. One of her friends called me a queen. Love them, lol!

So here’s to hearing more about the group home and more awesome thrift finds!

I used to think…

Before I had my son I used to think kids who weren’t talking were never read to or talked to by their care givers, I used to think people who yelled at their kids were monsters and didn’t deserve their kids. I used to think having a child in a special ed class was a terrible “label” and it would follow that child where ever he/she may go and not with good consequences.
I used to think having a son who was labeled mentally retarded was the worst thing ever. So much so that I badgered a developmental pediatrician who wrote that in an evaluation report to also add an addendum that I as the child’s mother vehemently disagreed with his findings.

I used to think a lot of things. Used to. Then life hit with an impact. I had a son who was speech impaired for seemingly no reason when he was a toddler. I tried to read to him as well as you could read to a busy and disinterested toddler. I am a “yeller” or I was anyway. And I know I’m in good company because a lot if not most of my mom friends were yellers too. My son started receiving special education services when he was 3 years old. I swallowed my pride and accepted their “label”, little did I know that such a label is not a bad thing but a ticket to other services he was entitled to such as Physical therapy and occupational therapy. Today I encourage any labels “they” want to put on my son as it doesn’t change who he is to me, because with those labels now comes placement beyond the board of education. My son’s time being educated and cared for by the board of ed is coming to an end as of next year when he turns 21. New labels may be more appropriate for him as an adult.

I used to think depression was a state of mind and that one should just snap out of it or look around at all they have that is good in their life. I now know depression is a real chemical imbalance in one’s brain and there is no “snapping out” of it. You simply can not. Depression clouds all your thinking and makes you feel worthless no matter what riches you possess whether it be a terrific family or terrific wealth.

I used to think God was a mystical father figure only interested in us on Sunday mornings. I used to think Jesus was the son of God who died upon a cross; period. I now know with all my being that God is real; period. He is with us all the time and not just on Sundays. And that Jesus died for my sins and yours. I know now that His grace is sufficient. Jesus’ life and death and resurrection is the best example of love that I know. And I humble myself to follow him the best that I can.

Easter 2016

Bunnies, chocolate, jelly beans, those darn delicious Cabury mini eggs…all things that spark recognition of the Easter holiday. But what about the “real” meaning of Easter? By real I mean seriously the real reason we celebrate. Jesus Christ was risen from the dead that Sunday morning and what a glorious day that must have been. I can only imagine how the apostles felt to see their Jesus again after a crucifixion fit for a criminal. How He was stripped of his clothing and beaten, given a literal crown of thorns. Jesus then took upon himself all the sins of the world. I love Romans 5:8, “You are loved more than you will ever know by someone who died to know you” So powerful.

It wasn’t too long ago that I brushed off the real meaning of Easter. It was just another “holiday” to get through. We (meaning my husband and kids and I) didn’t go to church. We didn’t really have a home church. I tried to go back to the Episcopalian church I grew up in but they offered nothing for my kids, no Sunday school, no bible study, no kids activities. And to be honest I finally left “the church” I was feeling frustrated and empty. I went back when I was pregnant with Samantha to the Episcopalian church but I felt empty when I arrived home afterwards. So after Samantha was baptized as a baby I stopped going. I did what I felt I had to do to ensure she would be “safe” if God forbid something happened to her, that she would go to heaven because she was baptized. I didn’t know that that was so far from enough.

I didn’t know we had to accept Christ as our Savior to be saved. I know all about Jesus I thought. Yes I knew of him but I didn’t have a relationship with Him I didn’t truly know him and wasn’t thankful for what He did for me. My kids didn’t know enough about Jesus to accept him as their Savior. It was only when we started going to our now home church about 8 years ago did my kids become exposed to the wonderful Gospel. The good news. That Jesus died for our sins and we were saved once we opened our hearts to Him and accepted the free gift of grace. I was baptized again this time by my choice on June 27, 2011. In front of the whole congregation I publicly let it be known that I am now a follower of Jesus Christ. It was wonderful and something I wholeheartedly recommend to any Christian; be baptized (again).

So Easter has come and gone. We celebrated our Lord’s resurrection with joy. And what a joyous reason to celebrate.

Birthdays and Being an Adult.

I have a birthday quickly approaching in a little over 2 weeks. It’s not a momentous or milestone birthday, I’ll be 46. And for the record I’m okay with that. I say that now. I don’t know how I’ll feel staring at the big 5-0. I don’t feel 46 years old, although I’m not sure what 46 years old is supposed to feel like. I don’t know what any age is supposed to feel like I can only reflect on what I felt like at certain ages through the years.

Sometimes I’m amused when I’m making dinner thinking of how “adult” I am. Like here I am married, raising kids, running a household; how adult it all is. And when did that happen? Being an “adult”. Legally I know when I turned 18 I was an adult. The only thing I really remember being at 18 is feeling free. I was about to graduate high school, had a great boyfriend, a part time job and I was driving and had my own car. Life was sweet. No “adult” responsibilities in sight. So I can hardly say I personally was an adult at age 18. Nor did I act very adult, IMO anyway.

I think the defining moment in my life was when I was 24. I graduated college as a nurse and finally for the first time had a “real” job, making real money. However I was still living at home. When I did move out I remember feeling so grown up and responsible. Paying for our own wedding and getting married was another grown up step then quickly becoming parents to Thomas with all his issues was a great kick in the old adult pants.

So I guess for me being an adult was a process of steps, I was fortunate that I didn’t have adulthood thrust upon me at an early age. When I look back it was God’s plan for me to take all those steps to finally get to the point where I was prepared to be Thomas’ mother. I was never known to keep my opinion to myself, but advocating for my baby and being bold to respected medical professionals wasn’t something I was well versed in but I had to learn quick and I did.

I look at my oldest daughter about to legally become an adult this summer. Her 18th birthday is shortly after she graduates high school. I know I won’t see her as an adult even though she’s very responsible and like me at that age she is driving her own car, has a great boyfriend and a part time job. I’ll ask her if she feels like an adult. I look forward to her answer.

Letting God In

I remember growing up and attending church. I felt church and God was just for Sunday. I couldn’t imagine applying my faith in God to other areas of my life like school, hanging out with my friends, etc… When I was older and went back to church I again couldn’t fathom letting God in to other parts of my life such as work, friendships, relationships, etc… I mean I believed in God and Jesus but they were “separate”. They were only for Sunday.

It’s only since I’ve been saved do I really understand letting God in to all areas of my life. The Lord has permeated every aspect of my life from my marriage, raising my children, friendships, discussions, my job, you name it; and I am so grateful to have Him there. Yesterday at church Pastor John said, “You are where you are because God has put you there.” I love that. Because it’s so true. I’ve wondered often if I’m working where I’m supposed to be. I’m working as a nurse piercing ears in Manhattan. It’s definitely where I wanted to be geographically but I never imagined myself working in this capacity. Never. I’m exactly where God wants me to be for whatever reason and it’s okay. I don’t believe it’s any coincidence that my supervisor just happens to be a Christian. There are no coincidences just things that happen as orchestrated by The Lord.

Having God be a part of every aspect of my life certainly changes the way I think and approach circumstances. I know it’s the Lord’s presence that gives me the calm, patient demeanor I have with my clients. I know it’s the Holy Spirit that gives me words when my kids have questions about God or our Savior Jesus Christ. I know it’s also the Holy Spirit working through me when co-leading my small group/bible study.

I would encourage everyone to simply let God in to all areas of your life. He’s already there you just need to acknowledge Him.

Seeing the Church Move

Since I started co-leading this small group/bible study for Mom’s of special needs children, I’ve had the distinct pleasure and honor of watching the church move. Watching other members of the group support and help each other. It is truly the hands and feet of our Lord in motion. And I am blessed to be a witness to it. I didn’t know what to expect when we began meeting for this small group. I didn’t know if everyone would get along or if anyone would be judgmental. Thanks be to God we all do get along and empathize and pray for each other; and no judgement.

I worry I don’t have the “right” words to say, I’m pretty quiet and I’m an active listener during the meetings. I guess that is the role The Lord wants me in. But there are times where I want the Holy Spirit to come upon me and give me words that will make an impact. I’m thinking my presence is enough of an impact. At this time anyway. My co-leader is quite gifted in knowing what to say and how to say it. She was amazing last night and I’m so thankful the Lord put us together to lead this group.

I prayed this morning for God’s help and support and strength in being a part of this ministry. Apart from Him I am nothing and I need His strength to be able to minister to this group of wonderful women.

Being Discipled

At small group/bible study last night we discussed being discipled or mentored. Were you ever a mentor or the mentee? I was fortunate that I did have a mentor and her name is Louise.

When I started going to small group, Louise was a co-leader of the group. I didn’t think I needed anything. I mean I believed in God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit. But I did need something, I needed that relationship The Lord and I needed a Savior. Louise met with me when I asked her to. She answered my questions and kept reminding me of the Gospel, that we are saved by grace through faith. I remember crying feeling unworthy of such a gift. Louise listened to me and reassured me that I am worthy.

When my world fell apart due to Thomas needing a medication change. It was then that I met the Lord. In the middle of Thomas being hospitalized and him being so very unstable at home, the Lord took that time to meet me where I was. He truly does meet you where you are, you don’t have to clean yourself up or wait for a special time. He picks the time and the place and it was right there in my car during the song, “Praise you in this storm” by Casting Crowns that I met Him. It was amazing and I called Louise to tell her what happened to me.

When my world was in shambles during the depression and after the trauma of having Thomas be so aggressive towards me it was Louise who would after church tell me she saw God’s fingerprints all over me. I needed that so bad at that time.

I finally thanked Louise last night for discipling me, for being my mentor.

About a boy

I’ve written quite a bit about my son. And that being a co-leader for a bible study group for Mom’s of special needs children brings me back to a time when things were off the hook for our family. Last week’s meeting was as awesome as the first. Three women couldn’t make it but instead we had 3 new members so I was able to hear their stories and be taken back yet again. It’s not painful to go back but rather retrospective at this point in my life. I can even recall the aggression without tears. A point I never thought I’d get to.

We discussed fears of our children being made fun of by other children because of their special needs. I shared that even when Thomas was the lowest functioning student in the entire school, no one made fun of him or bullied him. It was quite amazing when I look back. The social worker at that time explained to me that Thomas was a “nice kid” and all the other students wanted to be friends with him, “… you see, Thomas is a nice boy. These kids know who’s a nice kid and who isn’t …” My heart hurt for the other mom’s because I know that fear but God graced Thomas with a kind heart and the opened eyes of the other students. God also graced Thomas was a resilience to adapt to just about every situation he’s been faced with.

When Thomas was 8 years old we made the decision to have him attend a residential school an hour away from home. It was a gut wrenching but necessary decision. Thomas adapted and adapted well. God blessed this boy with the ability to be able to live away from us. Fast forward 8 years and again we were faced with this same decision. Again the Lord blessed Thomas with the resiliency to be able to adapt to a new environment and staff and other kids and to be away from us. To be perfectly honest I don’t think my girls would be able to adapt as well as Thomas has. I don’t believe they are as resilient as their brother or can adapt to change as well as he can. In all fairness they haven’t *had* to adapt to any kind of change that was beyond the realm of traditional transitioning to new classes, new schools, etc…

Are You Where You Though yet You’d Be?

If someone were to ask you if you are where you’d thought you would be say 5 years ago would you say yes? What about 3 years or even 1 year ago? My answer would be no. I always pictured myself with Tommy but to tell you the truth I rarely think of the future, I’m not one for planning ahead. We make plans and God laughs is what my husband says. I remember the exact time I stopped making plans. It was after I had the second miscarriage. I kept making these grand plans to have another baby but God had different plans at that time. I did end up pregnant again and giving birth but it was at God’s timing, not mine.

I do think of the future and have hopes. I hope Thomas will be living at a group home in this town where we live when he turns 21. I hope Alyssa gets into her college of choice and is able to dorm in Manhattan the way she wants to without putting herself in a crap load of debt.

If someone had told me 3 years ago I’d be happy and not constantly fighting the depression I don’t think I would have believed them. Three years ago I was still trialing medications and having good times and bad times. I desperately wanted a job, any job. I have no idea what I thought I’d be doing. I was adamant that I not be working in any way as a nurse.

Turns out God did have plans. He wanted me in a better place than I was 3 years ago because a job did materialize. But like everything else it was on His timing. I don’t think I would have been able to keep and do well at a job three years ago. Heck, even 2 years ago I wasn’t doing as well as I am now depression wise. Two years ago I decided I didn’t want any job, I wanted a job in Manhattan; part time.

I’ve been employed now, part time in Manhattan for 17 months. I know this was all in God’s plan for me. I’m working as a nurse but not in a capacity I ever dreamed of. Every day that I work I pray on the way there while on the ferry, sometimes on the subway. I pray for wisdom and discernment and for God to be with me while I’m working. On the way home I pray again and thank Him for being with me. If it were not for Him I wouldn’t be where I am today. Everything I wanted on my terms did not come to be. It was all on God’s timing. And His timing is nothing less than perfect.