Recognize Your Redeemer

I was recently touched by someone’s very personal and very real story. While in the moment, I was drenched in empathy for this person’s story of pain and betrayal. The person had come to expect one thing in particular. And then— she met her redeemer. And like so many redeemers, they appear of God’s appointment and usually are not obvious to the receiver.

United Nations against Baby Boxes

Based on: this Jewish World Review article

Why can't people be okay with things that have no guarantee of good outcomes? 

Things that have both good and bad outcomes are perceived inflated threats to our society. The deciding factor is really our role in the outcome. What is the point of an outsider's attitude when it really depends on the actions of those involved?

Equal Opportunity Pain

I no longer think that abandonment is an orphaned person's plight.

But, now I see that there is an epidemic of abandonment.

According2Meredith.blogspot.com

 Children abandoned by one parent

There are generations of people who were abandoned by one of their parents due to divorce and remarriage. In olden days, blended families were not as common. In other cultures, blended families are unheard of and many parents have severed their relationships with children from previous marriages. Abandonment of one parent is as painful as abandonment from both.

Children of Divorces with Sole Custody

Some individuals have court ordered parental abandonment. This is many times in the best interest of the child. But the circumstances are not understood or internalized in a healthy way by a lot of children. Then again, could any child be able to negotiate how it is better not to see a parent?
 

Children Living with Emotional Abandonment

I think that one of the most painful experience in life is to be with someone but to be denied relational gratification. It is not healthy for parents to look at their children "person needs" (emotional needs) as nuisances. If parents don't give their children the affirmation, they will seek it in less healthy places. 

Children Living with Parents Enmeshed with Addictions 

Usually addictions take center stage. That is why they are often unhealthy, especially at the expense of a developing and valuable child (all of them). Sadly, the children will seek marriage partners that treat them the same way in adulthood. I just wonder if the alcoholic parent hopes the child will marry another alcoholic person.

IDENTITY I.C.K.

Irish?    <+>   Czechoslovakian?   <+>  Korean? 

 I was doing this project on the profile of adolescence for my Human Services Human Systems and Development class. And I couldn't help but consider myself in how I compared to the rest of teenagers of the past...

So I hope you see that I got the concept "Identity I.C.K." from Irish, Czechoslovakian and Korean. It is so apropos because I did feel much "ick" from my adolescent phase in life. The identity part just about did me in. It was hard enough being an early bloomer and Asian gal with a "rack." 

Human Placebo

The Placebo Effect is Real...

Thank Heavens

Dear Reader,

I have gone through 34 years of life to realize that the "placebo effect" is so very real. It is as real as the pain that saturates our human race. We are walking around with deficits from things that were withheld from us-- searching for that placebo. Searching for the thing, the person, the ideology that will "fill us up." The kind of filling that would fill that void to the "T". The placebo would ideally be the exact amount we need to make our lives better, or to at the very least, anesthetize our pain.

We want this "placebo" to fill us up, not to purposefully use it or abuse it, but to make us whole. We have a drive to be whole. It is part of being a living thing. It is in wholeness that we imagine ourselves being the best versions of our-self; we would be smarter, more successful, more popular.

The good news is that everyone has a void. 

GUEST SERIES: Catt Peace 2 of 2

Graphic: According2Meredith.blogspot.com, words of Catt Peace

Continued from... "

You have to be a Christian to have 

your prayers answered. Right?

 

How Adoptees Find God

The following are her words with my editing, formatting, brackets and headers:

I Dream of...
Rationally thinking, all these conversations with the two of them must have been on my mind, as one night I had a dream. In my dream, I met the person: the person I had always been needing and looking for. I spent what felt like an eternity with him [feeling] so happy and peaceful. We talked, laughed, and joked.  At the end of my dream, I said "I don't know your name", and this vision of perfection smiled at me with the most beautiful smile and said "I know, I'm Jesus".  I woke up feeling amazing.

Magic of the Subjective Experience
[Although it] sounds corny and weird; it happened. When I told my colleagues, one was amazed and the other was jealous. It was still several months, maybe even a year, before I let this gnawing feeling on the inside get the better of me. I asked the Christian colleague ([that] I didn't get on so well with) when the next 'public' (less full on and less dramatic) service was as I felt I needed my 'yearly dose of religious.' Having grown up always attending Christmas and Easter services at the Catholic Church of England and Evangelical-type establishments, [I could at least do "that."]

Slaughter-er to slaughtered?
My colleague was a bit taken aback. My co-workers, [not unlike other believers,] spent so much time patiently inviting colleagues to church only to be scoffed at behind their backs.  Still, every Christian knows they are setting themselves up for slaughter whether publicly or privately with non-believers [when they broach the subject of religion]. 

Receiving blessing with moral support
I persuaded my best friend at the workplace to join me (strength in numbers) for a service my colleague had forgotten to invite me to. (He says he will never forget that, the one time he gave up asking was the one time I asked instead.) [At the part of the service] when a man was asking if anyone needed prayer, I nudged my diabetic atheist friend to go up. {Mental monologue as follows: I didn't need prayer. I had some form of belief in a higher power having studied various religions only to conclude that no-one had it quite right. "That would do me just fine. Thank you."} But my friend would only go if I did. [So I went because] I felt he needed it.

Challenging the Power of Laying Hands
[Now, we are both in front of the preacher.] In heels, I towered over the man who stood in front of me and asked what I wanted prayer for. I quite cheekily said, "Anything He wants to give me." As this preacher man put his hand on my head, it felt like a battle of wills as to who was going to win. It felt like he was pushing me over 'in the Spirit' (I had done this religious nonsense before) against my heels holding me upright. I won. Ha, take that you religious weirdo.

Church for a healthy social environment
In the time that followed, I started attending Church as something to do. I had made the decision that my long-term boyfriend (the angel who had set me straight again) and I needed to move forward in our relationship. We were living in a tiny dingy little annexe with mould growing on the walls and not enough sunlight.  [It was time for a relationship upgrade.]

I went to Church to meet people in the local area. I went to Church [only] for something to do on a Sunday. On a particular Sunday, I had already decided that I needed to find somewhere new to live and made a precise list of what I wanted in a home. After looking for a week or two all over the internet [of my own power] to no avail, I raised my thoughts heavenward. I said "It's me again. Help us out and I'll make this a regular thing, yeah?" 

Be careful what you pray for... It might come true
[Precisely] that afternoon, I found my dream home in a previously undiscovered corner of the internet. My list was ticked off. On my solo and very modest wages, I would be taking a massive financial risk. My parents promised me assistance and encouraged me. They, and many others by this point, weren't too fond of my long-term boyfriend anyway. [Furthermore, they thought this move would likely move him out of my life.]

Fast forward a few months, my boyfriend and I had none of the same interests and none of the same friends. I decided I needed to learn how to live my own life and make myself happy without him. [Eventually,] we spent a lot of time apart. You can only ever change you, not other people. 

Christian Camp Take Two
I was begrudgingly persuaded by some of my new 'friends' in the Church to attend a Christian camp. [It didn't take much effort as,] I had done it before. I could deal with a week of religious nutters as I needed a holiday, [I sounded off in my head]. They were planning on talking about what the Church was doing in society [and] mobilising 'God's Army.' I thought I'd go along to learn what I could about me. [I planned on] separating the message about God from the general theme of being a good person. "That’s basically what Christianity is, right?"

All Signs looking up
Just as we left the home of the now friends', previously [strange] colleagues, (all packed up [as if we are heading] to a week in the sun), I stopped my car.  I said, "Something special is going to happen. [I noticed all the signs that were jumping out at me.] It's exactly ten years since I last went to a camp just like this and ten years since my parents got our old dog." (My parents were getting a puppy that weekend.) [Those signs gave me] a weird feeling of anticipation.

I was and still am well aware of the politics within any organised group, including and especially churches, so I linked arms with a new friend. We distanced ourselves [physically] from the rest of the Church. Even to the point that on the first night, we sat seperate from each other, and seperate from anyone else we knew. 

Gripping the Heart of the Adopted 

GUEST SERIES: Catt Peace 1 of 2

Introducing a Friend & Kindred Spirit....

This is not the first time I've correspondence worked with Ms. Peace. I met her while participating in the same support group for adoptive families. She is real to the core and can unabashedly talk about herself knowing she is a redeemed and priceless soul.

Now for the Word-Smithing of

Graphic Credit: According2Meredith.blogspot.com, words of Catt Peace

The following are her words with my editing, formatting, brackets and headers:

You have to be a Christian to have 

your prayers answered. Right?

A bit of luck

When I was a young teen, maybe even preteen I attended a Christian camp for a holiday. Having been loosely involved in Church activities (as a clause in my mid childhood adoption from an Evangelical Christian family to an Atheist one), I didn't feel unease at being enveloped in the week-long camp. I had been encouraged to begin attending a lunch-time prayer group at my Catholic school to make friends, and this lead to an unexpected opening to the camp as a friends sister had paid up her holiday and was taken violently ill quite suddenly.

Camp
I went along to the camp, and the girls I roped in with weren't particularly overjoyed at having me hanging around. I was anxious, socially awkward, clingy, bizarre. I have always been good at spending time alone though, or making one particular intense 'special friend' for any needed amount of time. Almost like a hunter, pick off the weakest or friendliest in a group and claim them for my own.

Back in History
My history at this point was as follows, the first few years of my life were spent living with my alcoholic biological mother, who was incapable of looking after me and moved me around a lot. She had a lot of boyfriends. My biological father would follow us and rage about her behaviour. She was in and out of hospital, like I was in and out of foster homes. I was adopted aged 7 after a few years in a more stable environment.  I moved to a suburban housewife's paradise, a world away from the poverty and trauma I had experienced with my bio-Mum. 

Reflection: "Motherless by Choice"

SOURCE

This woman, student and author, has had a pretty hard lot in life. Her article that I linked to under "source" is raw and moving. I felt her conflicting emotions and tug of loyalty between herself and her mother. I felt drawn to reflect on her story as it is reminiscent of mine. I am also "motherless by choice," but I'm also family-less, and I've been involuntarily motherless through "virtue" of adoption. As I recently wrote an article about my life living with adoption, I came at a new understanding of my experience in life. Please scroll through the infographics and my accompanying words.

(I have forgiven my parents and myself for the condition of our relationship. They did the best they could with the tools & experiences they had.)

Katie Naums Toxic Relationship | Create Infographics

Can you relate? I can...

More than you Bargained For

When you deal with me, 

you deal with my Parent's 

influence on me

According2Meredith.blogspot.com

I listened to the Focus on the Family Broadcast (Daily Edition 05/29/14) by pastor Louie Giglio talking about generational impressions and influences. He proposed that we have to look into our past and deal with it so we don't bring it into the present and future.

I've mentioned this theme of family legacies, for bad or for good, before in different ways. But, after listening to pastor Giglio, I realized that I'm screwed. I mean, my family doesn't have a chance, but for the Grace of God [or whatever source you have].

You didn't deserve it

Consolation, 1894 - Edvard Munch

It didn't happen because you're a horrible person. It didn't happen because you had it coming. It didn't happen because you didn't tell them you loved them.

You're not asking too much

You Aren't Asking Too Much

Some days I just want to spend time with the childhood version of me to set some things straight. We're groomed to expect perfection out of each other and ourselves, but we are looking for the impossible. Should we like being yelled at? No. Is it realistic that we won't get yelled at ever? No. 

That's why I'd go back and say- sure, people let you down - they probably even hurt you - but they were bound to do it at least SOME of the time. We shouldn't give up on people because they aren't perfect. We don't need to resent them for being fallible (as they are fashioned to be). 

Broke Down

Image Credit: Tears of Love Drawings, galleryhip.com

 

Why am I the only one who's Happy?

I've tacitly asked God: "How come I am not depressed and unhappy like a large portion of humanity?"

Are you an Enforcer?

Video response to comments on: 

http://according2meredith.blogspot.com/2014/04/wheres-proof.html

en·force  (ĕn-fôrs′, -fōrs′)tr.v. en·forced, en·forc·ing, en·forc·es

1. To compel observance of or obedience to: enforce a law.

2. To impose (a kind of behavior, for example): enforce military discipline.

3. To give force to; reinforce:

Source: freedictionary.com

I give credit to Pastor Jimmy Evans with helping me see areas in my life where I had to allow God to take over the situation and shape me to be the person he designed me to be. God cannot operate in our lives if we are the enforcers. Innocently, well-meaning enough, I used to be an enforcer.

It got me no-where fast. As much as what I stood for was right and honorable, I was going about it the wrong way. The biggest clue that I was going about it the wrong way was the responses I got. God never backed me up when I was the enforcer. God was shaking his head in disapproval every time I was trying to compel a situation. There was no amount of praying that would compel God to back me up in my wrong pattern.

I finally got it through my thick skull to step back. It was hard to do nothing; especially when I felt so strongly about what I had been doing. I felt it to my core that I was doing right. I was even willing to take heat for what I thought was helping the situation.

But once I backed off, God honored my obedience and he stepped in. He brought professionals into our life and circle of influence that echoed what I had been enforcing. Once my husband heard a similar tune on a different channel, he was able to see the merit in the message and not let my ungodliness get in the way.

Now that God is the enforcer, my husband sees me in the correct light: as a person who had keen intuition and loving interest. He takes the advice of the professionals and is now doing what I used to do. Except this time, we're doing it together. We are in full agreement. It feels great. I know we're going to come out on top because we're fighting the good fight!

Thank you for reading through to the end. Extra props to you if you watched my video! I felt lead to share a personal part of my life since a bunch of you shared your prayers. Do you have anything to add to my video or post? Any more Prayers? Please comment below. 

If you think this post would bless anyone else, please share. 

You are the best! 

Dear Father (In Memoriam)

December 8, 1984 - April 18, 2013

Hi Dad,

This is the picture from the day we met at JFK Airport. You, against gentle advisement, forgot to kneel down so as to not scare me with your height. I proceeded to cry at your sheer size and strangeness. You were larger than life. At  that moment, I put my life in your hands. I decided that you were the face of God. And that wasn't fair. You had many great qualities but I had inappropriately put too much pressure on you to be perfect. It wasn't your responsibility to make my pain from my childhood trauma go away. I silently begged you to be delicate with me because my life had already been so hard for just a 4.5 year old girl.

In that span, between our meeting and your Earthly departure, we shared many moments. There were also many misunderstandings and things left unsaid. Too much time had passed between us. I'm glad I didn't reunite with you because, like with my bio family, there is no patch for missed time. Nothing would make things right without the intervention of God. So perhaps we will finish this business in Heaven together.

May 19, 2013 5:47am

Nearly a month after you passed out of this life, my son Gabriel entered it. We don't have a picture like this together. You didn't know me in my first moments. Sadly, I don't think my biological father did either. This is one huge reminder that you weren't supposed to wave a wand to make things better. In some respects, you were just supposed to be there with me while the earth traveled around the sun. Someone had to hold my chronological age minus 4.5 years worth of memories- to tell me who I am this side of Heaven. Someone, some man on this earth was supposed to be able to account for who I am. And to your best ability- you did just that.

Here is my husband holding your grandson. It's not his responsibility to fix my scars either. He has loved me in my most unlovely moments and has sweetened the precious moment of Gabriel's birth (on my own birthday no less) that we will share to eternity. I am in good hands between Robert and the Lord Above. I regret that you didn't get to meet them, Dad. I look forward to Heavenly introductions.

I have learned how different we are. You and I both had baggage. But your baggage was hard to bear because you locked it up inside of you. Whereas, I am continually learning how to free myself of my own load. Knowing how much harder pain is to bear alone and by keeping it in, I have so much tenderness toward you. I see you more as a suffering person than my parent/teacher. I wish you had a less tormented life.

All of this sadness begs me to think that my adoption has not disadvantaged me but made me more resilient to life's upheavals. I work hard to preserve our good memories, Dad. You had enough to endure, I'll do my best to tell people about you in the most attractive light. I never wanted to add to your pain. At least that pain has evaporated into eternal forgetfulness and unending nirvana.

Above all else Dad- rest in peace.

Love,
Your Daughter

We stopped the stupid cycle

We, my husband and I, [too bad you guys don't know what I'm talking about- tongue in cheek] are in remission. We stopped letting our emotions ruin our relationship. We almost had a relapse but we resolved it fairly quickly.

We used to feel impassioned emotions like: "That's not fair!," "You wouldn't do this to 'x'," "Why didn't you know that?"  We felt very entitled to saying those things... inflaming words. I even had this weird thing of feeling sexually aroused when we were engaged in fighting. (Come to think of it, that is a very natural reaction to a very messed up personal history. Maybe I'll share more of that later) If you're nodding your head with understanding... read on...

We went through a period where my husband would say "Don't tell me how to feel." After a while, I got so used to him (and I) airing our feelings that I realized that that was only half the relationship battle. That wasn't the answer to end all fights.

It took us a really long time to realize that our feelings are subjective and valid only to ourselves. Due to our love for each other we've learned to honor that part of each other. We stopped putting ownership of those feeling onto our spouse and owning it. When we started doing that- our emotions were not volatile to our relationship any longer. We learned to share intimate things knowing that we had the restraint not to let it go south.

We never said hateful things. We always knew we loved each other. We spoke out of fear and out of trauma.  Just because we stopped letting our emotions rule our conversations in no ways mean that we've stopped feeling. In fact, now we feel better about our emotions because we experience them without letting them get "radioactive" (thank you to Pastor Jimmy Evans, of Marriage Today Ministries).

We've learned that it's okay to feel those feelings in context. We also frame them in a way that we own them and that they are NOT the full reality of the situation.  For example: the other day my husband was mad at the way I handled a parenting situation. He saw what he saw and based his reaction off of that. We decided to give each other time to decompress from the tension. In my private space, I decided that he acted off the limitations of his perception (not the full situation) and that if I had been in the same position I'd be led to feel similarly. I also didn't let his frustration predict the future of our marriage. I didn't make any "corollaries" off of this ONE interaction. I left it as "He felt X because he saw X and didn't see X."

Also, we pretty much know that our fears of X are probably not going to go away but things are a lot more secure to the point where we can attribute certain things to our fears and not to a relationship matter. It seems like a lot of work (emotional labor). But it's become pretty natural after ditching the stupid cycle pertaining to our relationship (not every body else's). The rewards have been much sweeter and make the "dying to self" in those situations that much more worth it.

We, despite the fact that I'm a believer and he isn't (Do I get more cred now? wink), have been able to use little strategies like I just shared to navigate the complexity of our blended family. Sometimes we get in the way of our relationships and it just isn't so apparent until things get nauseously irritating. We were tired of being stupid. And now, we just practice a lot of acceptance toward each other and tweaked our expectations to point toward ourselves.

I don't want to sound like we did this ALL on our own. I must give credit to the Lord Above, the creator of marriage. But I say this very honestly that we really do enjoy each other more fully now and I see that as God's blessing for treating each other (both his children) with more grace. I hope that you can have this clarity in your relationships as well.

I pray that this message is greeting you in an inspired moment. Blessings~

What is it like to be an adult and mother who was adopted?

Hello adoptive family and professionals. Let me explain in stages to highlight that there are SHIFTS in understanding for the continually growing adopted person (and hopefully non-adopted people) such as myself. Of course I cannot speak for all adopted children, but I can give you proof that they will see the light.

As an adopted child, I was tripped up with the confusion of why my parents weren't a part of my personal healing. I had expectations of them that were unfounded and it is quite possible that they were unable to meet them even if they tried. I took the disappointments more personally. Every disappointment triggered a mental state of lack of confidence and absent self worth. In a sense, I was expecting things of external sources when I was supposed to be the source.

As an adopted adult, before marriage and becoming a mother, I was in my blaming stage. I was done being hurt on an ongoing basis and was, for the most part, blaming my adoptive parents for my misery. That blame, in some part, was misplaced. I should have reserved some space to point the finger at myself. I probably should have had brain space to be bitter toward my biological mother and family. But for some reason, I never was. It was easy to apply faulty attribution onto my adoptive parents assuming that they were "awful" to me because I wasn't really their child and "naturally" my bio mother would have been better. It's difficult to explain, but I never actively compared my adopted and bio parents because I had no recollection of my bio parents to make that comparisons. I was going off assumptions- but could you blame me?

Then when I married the first time at age 24, I came to a crossroads in my life. I knew motherhood was on the horizon and that I'd be forced to adjust my understanding of my involvement (or lack thereof) in both my adopted and bio families. When I became pregnant for the first time, I was triggered into a frenzy. I was afraid I would be a horrible mother because I had no secure relationship with my adopted mother. I didn't know what a healthy, enriching relationship was made of or looked like. One of my proudest moments (no- not really), was crying to my cat "How could I be a mother to a girl?!"

At a point of my life where I felt much loss from my adoptive and bio families, suddenly Jasmin filled the void, at least as much as she ever was supposed to. The rest of the void was meant to be filled by Almighty God. I relished getting to know my baby. I took pictures like no-one's business because I had none of my own baby stages. I was trying to make up for that loss and it pretty much worked for me. Every year I tried to envision who I was through my daughter. As if she could show me who I was when in fact I was the one who lived it- not her.

When she was about 2 years old, I was finally able to reunite with my family in Korea. I was hit with so much emotion, that I seemed emotionless for the first 10 minutes. Then the tears feel as if I was making up for lost time. I was no longer crying for my mother, I was crying because I was in her arms. The best thing I ever did for my healing journey was deciding to share my American adoption story in the raw form- no sugar coating. I told her what I silently repeated for years- that I would have chosen poverty just to live with her. Without going overboard, I knew I wasn't supposed to "make her feel better."

We spent time in ways that only make sense when you've been reunited after 24 years. She brushed my hair. She told me I used to sing as a child. She told me I had "million dollar eyes." We slept in the same bed, in Korean style (the norm). She cooked for me. She held my hand most of the time we were together. It was three days worth of editing the way I look at my life. It was a priceless gift. I was heartbroken to return to the states. But there held my only daughter... I had no other choice. I would not abandon my own child after what I experienced.

What I didn't expect to think about during the reunion was how much was missing between me and my biological mother. She didn't know what I preferred; what I enjoyed; what I wore to prom. Only my adopted mother knew those things. My adopted life contained my identity, not my country of origin. Korea holds my family but not the essence of who I am. I left having even more appreciation and empathy for my adoptive parents. I began to see the pain my parents experienced from raising me and before me. I wasn't able to recognize that while I was engrossed in part-time misery.

I guess by the natural pace of life, by the time she was 4.5 years old (when I was adopted), I stopped looking to her to assuage the mystery of my first years of life. About that time, I was also able to bring Jasmin with me back to Korea. Jasmin never met my adopted mother, but fortune gave me the opportunity to introduce her to my Korean family and to where I came from. It was healing to see my Korean mother love on Jasmin. I saw similarities between the three generations of females. It seemed to be enough for me.

Shortly after we came back to the states, I met my husband.  He already had two sons by his first wife. She was leery about me at first, but then she gave me the nod of approval. Before I realized what was happening, she bowed out of the boys' lives. I was put in the position to be their only female guardian for the time being. I never signed up to be their only "mother", I was envisioning a team effort. Ironically enough, I vowed that I'd never adopt; but that is essentially what has happened. I've adopted the boys in my heart and even when their mother steps back into their life, I will consider them to be my sons as well.

So now that I'm an "adoptive" mother by heart, I see my adoption in a different light. I can appreciate what my adoptive parents were up against with me. I can also use my experiential knowledge to help guide me to be a worthy parent to the boys. Now I look back and see how much of this metamorphosis was out of my power; that it was all meant to be. I love my family. Everything that I've gone through HAS (without a doubt) been for a purpose. And for that knowledge and confidence, I am so thankful and blessed.

So I share this with you, adoptive or prospective parents, so that you can be encouraged that today, as good or bad as it is, will not forecast the rest of your life. There are many twists and turns that will come with being parent that will spin your life into an amazing tapestry.  Don't forget to step back and to the side once in a while to see those small periods of growth. You are doing a great work through and with these children.

Video of my Reunion Story

Many blessings to you~

Response to "Baby Moved to Tears"

Baby moved to tears by mom singing 

Photo Credit: marvelouswallpapers.com

I had to watch it. It was viral... trending. Everybody seemed to be doing it. But- what went through my mind was hopefully a little different. In my mind, my thoughts were pulled toward acknowledging that babies can indeed understand emotion beyond just crying for their needs. Would it be a stretch to say that these babies have come "online" with human compassion?

Too much is hurled at us about bad things: school shootings, cheating, devastation and fraud. There is a subset of children/people who had such traumatic childhoods that they do not have this emotional connection or intuition. There are children who have what was known as Reactive Attachment Disorder (RAD) that have splintered social reasoning- many times due to things totally out of their control.

One such RAD survivor is Jessie Hogsett. He wrote a book Detached, a personal memoir about how he has evolved past his childhood trauma to be a light to many people's lives. He also is a husband and father who is very much attached to his family. He started a foundation called "P.A.T.C.H.E.S." that provides support and resources to families who are rehabilitating RAD children and building solid families.

For me, he symbolizes hope in my eyes for children, many foster and adopted, to overcome institutionalization and abuse. I have had a close affiliation with adopted children/adults throughout my life. I have heard of RAD in these kids before I ever knew about the diagnosis. I've heard of children being so beaten down that I honestly didn't know how they could keep themselves "together."

I knew one adopted guy who's adoptive mother told him he should just die. One day, she found him outside on their lawn and he was just laying there. She spit through her words, "Why are you just laying there?" And he replied, "You told me I should die, so I'm laying here." I still choke back tears when I think back on this demoralizing and heartbreaking real life story. Another girl ran away from abusive parents in Canada. She told me many unbelievable things that I can barely remember 13 years later. But her brokenness and fear has never left my mind.

On the bright side, Izidor Ruckel, a Romanian adoptee, who had a similar social handicap and he was recently in the news for making a name for himself. He has made a documentary that was featured on the Washington Post  on January 30, 2014: A Lost Boy Found His Calling. Laura Mathews was also in "the system". I personally met her through the Easter Seals. She is now a lawyer who has a special interest in caretakers of special needs children. She makes sure that all of their legal and financial ducks are in a row for the security into the future.

I share this video to bring us back to our humanity. Let's not take things for granted. We are so blessed to have each other in our lives. We are installed with oxytocin, the hormone of love and attachment. Our brains are wired to develop BASED on nurturing, loving, and ministering to the innocent children and babies who are brought into this very much harsh world. Even though many children go through these horrors, people like Jessie Hogsett, Izidor Ruckel and Laura Mathews can come out victorious and influential in their communities.

[I pray that God keep our hearts tender toward each other. I pray that our hearts be moved to tears for the horrors of this world. I pray for all of the disadvantaged children to grow up into more lawyers, authors and documentary makers. God is not done with us, even the ones who have lost touch with their God-designed humanity. I pray that we all hug each other longer and more often. I pray all of this in HIS Perfectly Loving Name, Amen.]

The torture of inconsistency and some hope

 Photo Credit: russian-untouchables.com

I remember always questioning my relationships due to inconsistency. Let's be real- being abandoned makes a person ever so sensitive to inconsistencies. The things and people we cannot count on bring us to that vulnerable place of horror over the idea of that separation happening all over again- different cast, so to speak.

Inconsistency tells our primal selves that life is not secure and that we cannot count on things or people. It's not even a conscious choice that we have decided not to trust. It is a primal switch that takes many repetitions for things to feel "right" again. I can honestly say that I would not wish this type of feeling on my worst enemies. Nothing is more terrifying than feeling alone in the world.

Inconsistencies have a pain attached to them connected to disconnection. Disconnection is what we are left to feel when our actions are not reciprocated. The excruciating feeling of not knowing the rules KNOWING that the "social contract" is null and void. Knowing that despite our intrinsic value and our behavior, relational rewards are withheld.

Inconsistencies lead us to turn away our hearts from each other... and on the severe end, from people in general. I have seen too many broken and hurting hearts not to write about this topic. I've felt it. In some cultures they call this a one sided torturous relationship. And if we enable and allow these types of relationships it becomes something we seek out of familiarity.

There is hope. There is a promise to grasp. There is a perfect love out there. If your heart cries due to interpersonal inconsistencies and disappointments, this Perfect Love is for all of us. This "perfect love" puts in perspective the shortcomings of any human heart. Jeremiah 17:9 says that our hearts deceive us...

Seek refuge in God. Place all of those relational longings on him so that HE may fulfill them for us. God sees us all for our eternal value. He hurts for our pain and he wants our hearts to break for what breaks his.
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After my weekend experience at the Easter Seals camp, my eyes opened to how much people are hurting. Some of the most caring people are also the most hurt. They hurt because they have neglected themselves first off. They put off their own self care needs in the hopes that their sacrifices will pay off before they accumulate a spiritual debt that will be insurmountable. Perhaps the reason why we get burnt out caring for others is that we haven't cared enough for ourselves to keep our ministering motors running.

God does not condone self neglect especially if it endangers the care and ministry to other people. I sat next to couples, siblings, families that looked just as disconnected with each other as they were with the strangers that joined in on the camp. I saw sunken eyes and faces aged beyond their time. People thought that they could take a personal debt that was not benefiting anyone involved. Somehow, people tricked themselves into putting 100% of their energy on 20% of their family. And you wonder why families are imploding.

Special needs families are the most likely to get divorced... it seems right up there with 2nd marriages (the sources are aplenty). We all matter and we need to start behaving as if we do. Needs are equal even if "special ones" are present. How can we care for others without maintaining our personal reservoir for that care? The more imbalanced and inconsistent a household, the more dysfunction we will experience.

Sometimes we are so in the thick of it that we cannot see it for lack of perspective. I had a complete stranger, single mother, cry to me that she was wanting a man in her life. I had another mother cry out to me as if she hasn't been heard in YEARS. I heard people say that they struggle to keep their family present and in the moment with each other. This is NORMAL for these families, but it's not what God ordained.

We set out to have this family EXperience with EXcitement and EXpectations of shared synchronous joy. And despite the fact that that is very unlikely to happen-- EVER, we have to decide to do the right thing for our families DESPITE the consensus and be willing to fake positive energy to beget more positive energy.

For the people who want the right things WILL attain it as long as they own THEIR experience and not make it contingent on others. My husband and I made the best of it. I took a human inventory and decided that people are even more precious and worthy than I did before the weekend. I had time with my Heavenly God in a higher elevation (of the mountains). I rejoiced that we have stayed steadfast, with HIM strengthening us.

This weekend symbolizes another stamp on our relational passport. I've also referred to it to my counselor as our "relational resume."I keep a special binder will all of the family and marriage enriching activities we've participated in. They are the bricks that keep our family strong despite our fleeting and conflicting feelings.

This cognitive moment reminds me of a story I heard off of Facebook of a lesbian couple. Their adopted son was worried that they were going to announce a divorce. But instead, his mothers called him to take a special ride in their RV. To his relief and joy, they were celebrating hitting 100,000 miles on the odometer as a family. There was no divorce on the horizon, just many more miles to share in this imperfect life.

And that's how I feel about every time we pile in our car (whichever one is working at the moment, tongue in cheek) to go to a special event. We know they are all milestones and testaments to our family story. We choose to forget the bitter moments and we proudly display the ones that show our strength.

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So I pray:

God, I ask that you anoint all of these family moments to shape our families into your ideal for relationship and love. May all of our imperfections just remind us that we need you to fill in those gaps so that we have an overflow with which to care and minister to ourselves and others. Let us dedicate specific moments to you as we attempt to align with your Word and bring a bit of your Heavenly love on Earth. In your Great Name I humbly pray. Amen.

God bless you~

Find your voice

 Photo Credit: www.valewisham.org.uk

I read a very personal story of a blogger I have been following... a very successful blogger. I felt like I was intruding on her life details, but then again, she shared it with the hopes to touch other people's lives. Consider me touched- in the abstract sense.

I find the subject of depression to be very elusive and yet so crushing. I had a mother who fought depression. I fought depression when I went off to college- the first time. I've read about depression. I've been the person to try to pick up the pieces of someone else's depression. I've been the friend who has ushered a friend to their therapy session. It is insidious and very personal.

I believe that depression works the best on people who are non-conforming... the people who are less influenced by others. I also believe that depression is a product of not giving our experiences a voice... suppressing  something so strong that it leaves us utterly fragile. Depression is good for people who dwell in denial; speaking of the people who are just sad but don't know why. Depression plagues people who weren't empowered at key points in their life.

Depression is a hard enemy to attack because it dwells in our own meat-suits (thank you, Dean of "Supernatural"). The power of our depression is the same as the power we hold if we were to turn the monster on its head and did wonderful things in our lives. Depression is the thing that feeds off all of the incidental things that go wrong in our lives- red lights, breaking things, forgetfulness. Depression lets us attribute all of those insignificant things to us being not good enough and incapable of good things.

Depression is something that cannot be buried, pressurized and produce diamonds. We have to combat it with the opposite spirit of future thinking, possibility thinking, the fact that we cannot predict future failure unless we become an active partner to the prediction. I can liken depression to the judgement stage of our every day lives. Creativity and productivity cannot come from judgment especially upon ourselves.What if we just reserve a time where we suspend this judgement in favor for just being, creating, doing.

It's funny that my answer to depression comes from my English Composition class textbook, "The Curious Writer." In it Bruce Ballenger instructs his students to suspend judgement on their writing (or in my metaphor of appraising our lives of a depressed mindset). He taunts us to first write badly as if to produce a huge slab of marble from which to chip away at and EXPOSE a great piece of art.

I will never forget this class because 1) I got over my fear of writing badly since English was my second language and 2) it was one of the few times I got an A in English in my academic career.  It was powerful to get the permission to have bad writing in my history, or a bad hour or two in my living history. The biggest travesty would be to not create, not to have a voice and not to live with some light hearted moments.

If we were truly honest with ourselves, we could just admit that part of depression is indulging in self pity and denying our blessings. That is really shortchanging our already imperfect and wanting lives. Imagine if every time we take something for granted that it would be taken away... how many of us would be left with NOTHING.

So I say that our emotions do warrant a piece of our harnessed energy. We can allow ourselves "a time" to feel depressed. It is surprising how quickly the blues go away when we only lease part of our day to negativity. Like: "Right now I have to sort through these sad thoughts. And in an hour, I will go for a walk in the fresh air." Our minds only go where we let it, unless we are in a coma.

Sometimes the best thing we can do for our depressed states is to enjoy something subjective like being in nature, rhythmic drumming or painting. Subjective activity really leaves so much to the "perspective" that it is hard to really "judge" in the first place. Or else, try something repetitive and meditative; like make those dozens of cookies you've put off for lack of "time" or hem those pants and fix the buttons of your clothes that are lying around.

Have a comfort box or corner in your house. Keep your best loved things, memorabilia, pictures handy to access during your "blues." Make your favorite comfort foods and feel them banish the sadness. Write a letter to yourself the next time you get sad with the things that helped you previously get through it. Be your best friend until the sadness subsides.

Believe me, I'm not trying to sound "problem-less" as if I don't have reason to be sad. I've had my share of heart aches, betrayals, failures and traumas. But they only plague me if I look backward. If I stay in the present, then I have my wonderful family, college, large house, paid off cars, no revolving debt... etc.  And when I look into the future, I see redemption, fruition, growth, endless potential in all of my family. The lasting legacy I will leave is what I have yet to produce and not sourced from my distant past.

Pain is only for a time. Like, the pain of labor. I learned this time around that if I worked WITH my body that the pain would not last as long and that it would be more PRODUCTIVE than if I fought with it like the first time around. So- I went from an 18 hour labor to a 4 hour labor from just working with the pain. To me, 4 hours of pain wins out hands down every time. Let pain be your temporary friend for transformation.

Most importantly, find your voice...

It's a woman thing...

 Photo Credit: sabbathrestmagazine.com

The father wound sets us up for relational handicaps, but the "mother wound" cripples our sense of self and well-being. I read the article I linked in the opening sentence "Why it’s Crucial for Women to Heal the Mother Wound" by Bethany Webster. This sort of article is so very shaking and upsetting to me because I have not one but TWO mothers: one who lives a parallel life in Korea and an adoptive mother who has been estranged from me for many years. Add on to that significance of the fact that I am a mother to a daughter.

It's true. I find myself feeling a sense of shame every time I admit to my daughter with emotion in my voice that I will never be perfect... that I have feelings too. I feel the weight of every word I say and don't say. I know how much potential I have to emotionally handicap my daughter. There's never a moment that I feel the quality of the influence I have on her. 

The truth for me is that I cannot heal my mother wound, at least not without some dialogue. Spiritually, I do my best to forgive and to bless what I cannot resolve with my mothers. I have two obligations and measures worth of baggage, loyalty and respect. But I've stopped handing them the power over my feeling of well-being. They do not determine how I feel about myself. I don't make excuses for them. I name the way they damaged me. I didn't make a silent vow that I couldn't be okay until everything was copacetic with my mothers. I knew better than to put such an impossible stipulation on my health.

When I see anything weak or unsightly in my daughter, I immediately take stock through my mental file cabinet of my mistakes with her and try to assign my mistakes to her faults. By God's grace, not all of her imperfects fall on my shoulders- but most do. It's just the reality of the situation. We are just too close to each other for her not to absorb some of me that I wish could just keep to my self. 

I guess my situation is a hybrid to the blended family situations of today. Fifty percent of families in America today are blended families. That means, excluding deceased parents, each child potentially has two mothers. I do my best to train my daughter to respect her stepmother and to give her grace. I do my best to help her give her stepmother the benefit of the doubt. I try to impart on her that it is ok to see us make mistakes and that they are ours to shoulder- not hers. 

But that's assuming that an eight year old understands what I speak of and how she might go about making herself impervious the free radicals I've shared with her. The one thing I really really truly didn't want to pass on. I know I'm not perfect. I remember that one time I sat in the hallway pregnant and crying to my black cat "How can I be a mother to a girl?" It was as if I knew she was going to be damaged by me even before she was part of this world. 

It's no mistake that my disastrous relationships with my mothers have set the stage for me to shy away from making female friends. But according to the article, Bethany suggests that friendships where women can support each other and let each other vent and mourn our wounds are the best safeguards against passing on the mothering uglies to our daughters. What is a Meredith to do?

For now, I cry out to God. He aches to fill in the void... as many as I have. But he will only step in if I invite him and invoke his relationship with me. He can cover the sins of my mothers and of my own. He can be that protection, the anti-oxidant that protects my daughter from my free radicals. There is no option to be apart because abandonment is another type of pain. We- are in a conundrum of not wanting to damage and yet not wanting to abandon our children. Lord help us.

So- if you didn't already feel down- I can only imagine you're already there by this sentence. I'm sorry for that. But let me pray over you that God would bless your relationship with your mothers and your daughters. I ask that God supply us with an extra helping of peace, humility, self love and grace so that we may give the surplus to our own children.  God made mothers not out of dust but out of flesh so they could feel genuinely and so we could be set apart from the rest of creation. Let us live up to the expectation that we be the crown of his creation. He wills it so. Passing on God's love to you~ Amen.