The Rescue 5 Project Update

Like many of you, I want to wear clothing that accomplishes two things.  First, I desire to promote positive attitudes about causes I care about.   And second, I want to spark meaningful conversation that will create change.  

If you click the links below, you will find a description giving meaning to the designs we created.  Each can be placed on a number of different products within Zazzle, generating different price points to accomodate every budget.

Lydia is currently raising money to fund the adoption of 5 orphans who have special needs. You can read more about it here: 
The Rescue 5 Project

Proceeds from all sales will go to fund the Rescue 5 Project.  


The R Word Hurts Tee Shirts by Squidmunkee
Shop for custom t shirts online at Zazzle

Walk A Mile In Different Shoes Shirts by Squidmunkee
Browse additional t-shirts at zazzle.com

I See You Shirt by Squidmunkee
Create unique custom shirts no minimum.


P.S.  For all who continue to pray and ask about our Natalie, she is doing well.  I will post an update next week with some quotes from her letters. 

Gravity Lessons

Gravity Lessons....Have you had any of those lately?  Where the powers of heaven have pressed some undeniable truth urgently upon you?  Where like a grape that has been stomped and obliterated into wine, you have felt the weight of that reality crushing you? spilling out for you to see?  

I have.

IRONY, in my life, is when God allows me to see how wrong I have been by offering me a dose of personal experience.  The problem is God's offering feels more like a semi-truck dropping on  me from the sky....a massive eighteen wheeler that has been hurled by the very hands of God.  And as I lie face down, completely smashed beneath the magnitude of it all, He asks:  "Do you see?"


Before things exploded into crisis mode with Natalie, I believed all she needed to do was to put her desire for sin aside and choose Jesus.  It seemed so simple to me.  The Bible lays out the guidelines we need to follow in order to have a peaceful life:  don't lie...don't steal....love your neighbor....honor your parents....etc.  Who wouldn't want to follow them?  Who wouldn't want to choose peace over despair?  

But when the battle ultimately came to a deafening crescendo of Natalie literally screaming for me to get her help, I finally snapped out of my "that person just needs the Lord" mode and began frantically seeking medical advisement.  And for the last 5+ months, our insurance plan has been leading the charge and directing her care.  Chappy and I have been barely hanging on for the ride on this unfamiliar journey.  The drivers have been psychiatrists, psychologists, therapists, nurses, and therapists.  We have questions that still remain unanswered, we have made phone calls that have never been returned, and we have been whipped around by a system that cares more about doing business than treating our daughter.  

As a result, Chappy and I have made the very difficult decision to take her health care into our own hands.  As of this past weekend, Nat is in a place of our own choosing.  Insurance is no longer part of her treatment plan, and a "system" is no longer wielding power over our daughter.  For the first time in six months, our family feels peace.  Beneath the weight of truth, we choose hope.

Chappy was the one who transported Natalie from the last treatment center to where she is today.  I have agreed not to speak with Natalie for 30 days in order to give her a chance to focus on herself without a lot of added emotion.  During that time, we will correspond the old-fashioned way....by U.S. Mail.  

On her trip with Chappy, she and I spoke by cell phone.  At first she was very stoic and harsh during the conversation....telling me all of her problems were a result of poor parenting on my part....continuing to shelter herself behind those walls of protection she has built around her heart.  

Our final words were:  

(me):  "Natalie, I want you to know that you are so beautiful.  God did not make a mistake when He created you, and He has a wonderful purpose and plan for your life.  Do you hear me?

(Nat):  "Yes-ma'am"

(me):  "Nat, would you agree that you have hurt me so much over the last several months?  That things that you have said and done have broken my heart?"

(Nat):  "Yes-ma'am"

(me):  "Well I have something to say to you and I want you to hear me.  Will you listen to me for a minute?"

(Nat):  "Yes-ma'am"

(me):  "Nat, I am asking you to go to a brand new place, and I know you are feeling afraid.  But I want you to pour yourself into this place and accept the help they want to give you.  To do that, you are going to have to make yourself vulnerable.  You're going to have to take down the walls.  And if I am asking you to do that, then I have to do it too.  The first three words I have to say are easy for me.  I love you, Nat.  I really do.  But the next three words are difficult for me, but I am going to say them and I am going to mean them.  I forgive you."  

With those final three words, she began to sob out loud.  For a brief moment, the walls came down and I could hear my Natalie again.  I wanted so badly to reach out and look her in the eyes and say:  "You see, Nat, you do love me!"  However, we both just cried.

Very quickly, Natalie put her walls back up and went back into self-protection mode.  But it didn't bother me near as much as it usually does, because I had grabbed hold of that glimmer of hope and tucked it safely into my own heart.      

So where am I now?  I have returned to the basics.  My daughter just needs the Lord!  There is no magic potion and no doctor's remedy that can cure her heart.  Just like the rest of us, Natalie simply needs a Gravity Lesson!  It is going to be painful.  The process always is.  But in the end, when she is begging for mercy as I have done countless times....the ONE who is perfect mercy will gently pick her up, dust her off, and then will bring her back home to us....healed and whole.  

John 10:10:  "The thief comes only to steal, kill and destroy....but I have come so that they might have life!"  

The Golden Rule

Lydia has slept on the floor of our our bedroom, cuddled up in blankets, since the Boston Marathon Tragedy....she is wrestling with the enemy called "Fear".   I think it is pretty safe to bet most of our teenagers are feeling afraid.  And I really can't blame them.    

The truth of the matter is that there is no simple fix to the brokenness of our society.  The remedy must begin with a worldwide heart change.  Perhaps, over time, healing will burst forth from the brokenness.  But until then, we are all left to figure out how we deal with the fear.  

Here is a 14 year old girl's perspective:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OQ4HZi-mKFY

In Times Of Darkness

"I Am Terribly Rotten And Selfish...That's Why"

"Mom, why don't people understand our lives?", she asked. 

"They haven't walked in our shoes....so to expect others to understand us is unfair."

Such began a discussion at midnight in the middle of a king size bed in Rosemary Beach last week.  

Lydia and I were "blessed" with the task of getting Hopey to sleep, which was proving difficult since Poppy had fed her a huge piece of chocolate cake while we were out earlier that evening.  

When we walked in the door, my dad had asked:  "Hey, guess who REALLY likes chocolate cake?"   

And then I was promptly met by a laughing little munchkin who's face was covered in chocolate icing....even her teeth were coated in the stuff.  I knew it was going to be a long night.  And I was right.

Lights were out and all was quiet except for Hopey who continued to jump up and down on the bed even after we had made our best effort to "tuck her in" with cozy blankets dozens of times already....just when we thought we had her settled, we'd hurry to pretend to be asleep with the desire that she decide to join us....she may have an extra chromosome, but she ain't that easy to fool.  She caught onto our game and made up her own rules.  How many times did I silently curse at my daddy when Hopey would throw back the covers, leap to her feet, bounce up and down with giggles and then land right onto my tummy (or head)?  I lost count.

What I hadn't anticipated was how we were just about to have an appointment with our Father in the middle of that king size bed turned trampoline.

Lydia continued:  "No, mom, what I mean is why can't people see things the way we do?  Everybody thinks they have the answers to our problems, but they don't even have a clue.  They're just all selfish.  Most people who offer us advice about Natalie haven't even adopted a kid themselves."  (ouch!)

My answer to her possibly surprised me as much as it did Lydia:  "We are just as selfish as those people are....every single one of them....and just as judgmental too."

Those big eyes.  Lydia can never hide her true thoughts or feelings, because those puddles of brown betray her every single time.  This evening offered no exception.  The moonlight burst through the vertical blinds and landed right onto those eyes as Lydia shot up in the bed and used them to accuse me:

"Are you kidding me?  WE are selfish?  WE have adopted two kids and take care of two little ones with Down syndrome every single day of our lives, but WE are selfish?  Mom, WE don't even have a life!  How in the world can you say WE are selfish?"

I answered with a question:  "Who are you comparing us to?"

And boy, did she ever have a list.  I didn't have a clue she knew so much about so many people.  Teenagers watch and take everything in, because my 14 year old rattled off a list of  moms who routinely get manicures, host parties, and travel....of dads who play weekly rounds of golf, drive sports cars, and throw back beer like it's water in an effort to appear younger than their middle age....of families who have plenty of money but never reach out to help the poor, the widow, or the orphan....of friends who care most about popularity and of churches filled with hypocrites.  

This time, the shock was in my eyes.  Had I raised Lydia to believe our lifestyle somehow made us more holy than others?

So I asked her:  "If right now, a reliable person were to make you this offer:  'Lydia, I will save 50 orphans if you will give up everything you have....those orphans will never want for anything again...they will be loved and provided for until their death...but with the condition that you give up your family, all of your belongings, your home, and all conveniences to live in a trailer alone for the rest of your life....and with the condition that no one could ever know the sacrifice you made'....would you do it?  With the absolute 100% guarantee of saving those 50 orphans?"

Her eyes betrayed her again.  Oh, how I love those eyes:
"Ummmmm, yes, of course I would do it."  Her voice was so soft and pure.  I can still hear the words escape from her mouth.

I turned to her, in the dark....with Hopey still jumping up and down like a caffeine drugged little bouncing bean....and I matter-of-factly said:  "I wouldn't.  In fact, I wouldn't do it to save 500 orphans....or even 5000 orphans.  Heck, Lydia, I am ashamed to say I wouldn't do it to save every orphan on the planet."

She didn't even look at me, but instead fiddled with her fingers when she asked:  "Why?"

"Because I am selfish; I am terribly rotten and selfish...that's why", I answered.

She immediately replied:  "Me too.  I didn't mean it when I said I'd save them, Mom.  I am horrible. I wouldn't give my life up to save the orphans either.  But why?"

And then it was time for God's appointment with us.  Thankfully, I was ready for it even though it wasn't on my schedule for the evening.

"Because, Lydia, we are human and we live in a fallen world", I answered,  "and that is the reason we need a Savior." 

We talked for more than an hour....Hopey never stopped bouncing the entire time....Lydia and I in awe of what redemption truly means.  Both of us grateful for a Creator who saw ahead and provided for us....and for a Father who loves us even though we are terribly rotten and selfish.  We wrote this song about that gift of redemption; hope you like it:

Reactive Attachment Disorder..."61 steps away"

Two weeks ago, just before Natalie was to be transferred to the Residential Treatment Center in Illinois, we spent 13 hours in a studio recording 3 songs.  Two of them were "for" Natalie.  One of them an original song.  Probably our way of coping.

One of the videos was shot in an alley clothed in waste.  Graffiti was scribbled on the walls in remembrance of those who had entered the solitude of the place.  Isn't it ironic? Every human being wants to be heard, even if the words are randomly spray painted in a remote alley where no one will ever see them.

Underneath a black metal stair case sat a single chair....oddly, it was all alone.  It didn't fit in.  Who would sit in this alley?  Surrounded by trash?  With nostrils taking in the stomach wrenching stench of food that had missed the nearby receptacles and had instead been aimlessly thrown out to rot on the ground?  Who?  And more important....why?

61 steps away.

That's all it would take.  61 steps.

Just get up from the chair and walk 61 steps....take one step at a time to find you are:

61 steps from the pulsing heart of a small town alive and bustling with functioning people....fathers who go to work every morning in order to provide food and shelter for their children, mothers who take their daughters to ballet practice each week, sons who play on the soccer team, aunts who sing in the local church choir, grandparents who have saved an inheritance to leave to their heirs, neighbors who are catching up on their front porches, and friends who will meet for dinner at a local restaurant that evening.

61 steps away.  And yet, there is this lone single chair.

Natalie is in the chair.  Life is going on all around her, only 61 steps away....but she is paralyzed in the chair.

Natalie and Chappy did not talk on the plane ride to Illinois.  He said they both sat in silence as they anticipated what was ahead of them.  Chappy in fear of rejection yet again....and Natalie feeling lost and alone.  Her parting words to Chappy last weekend as he left her behind in a city that was spitting snow:

Chappy:  "Nat, do you care at all about our family?"
Natalie:  "No-sir"
Chappy:  "Do you think you'll ever be ready to live at home with us again?"
Natalie:  "No-sir"

61 steps away....but she sits in the chair, surrounding herself with the garbage that is the lies of the enemy who has told her she is not worthy to be loved....a place where she believes she belongs.

Isaiah Chapter 61....and the first verse:

"The Lord has anointed me to bring good news to the oppressed....and to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives, and release from darkness for the prisoners"

Here is the video...the song is about rising above your circumstances....see if you can find the chair:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FwbHVnPbNUM

Reactive Attachment Disorder...."I Hate Me"

How many of you have been yelled at in the middle of a hair salon?  Well, as of this week, I can add my name to that coveted list.  In a nutshell, among other things, I was told I have lost my mind and am a phony.  And then she marched out.   This is a person I have known for a long time.  A "friend".  

I guess I can see how some would view me that way.  How some might even feel compelled to tell me they view me that way.  I don't think the lady in the salon ever considered that I have been feeling the exact same way about "me".  It is so terribly ironic.  Really.  Hey "friend", newsflash:  I hate me too!

Be honest for a moment.  How many mothers have you known who have sent their children away to residential treatment centers?  How many mothers do you know who are unable to help their own children?  I am the only one I know of.  

But as always, in my weakness, God shows up strong and faithful.  After being completely humiliated in the salon for what was probably only 3 or 4 minutes (but seemed like much longer), I turned to the lady sitting next to me.  Picture this:  my hair was covered in foils from highlights while her head was covered in red hair coloring....both of us obviously a sight to see....and I said in a whisper:  "I am so sorry you had to hear that." 

What else could I say?  The truth was, I wanted to find the nearest hole and crawl into it.  And I am certain she knew how I felt.  

But she turned to me with her sopping wet hair and said:  "For what it's worth, you handled that beautifully....I don't know that I would've sat and allowed someone to berate me that way."  And then she struck up a conversation with me.  She actually offered a hand of friendship to me. 

I told her about our family and all we are going through right now....mentioning how difficult life has become.  I cried.  She cried.  I began to shake with sobs.

She asked:  "Do you believe in coincidences?"  I answered:  "No, I don't."  She asked:  "So you believe God is involved in everything?"  I answered simply as I wiped tear after tear after tear from my eyes:  "Yes."  

Then she said the most profound thing: "What are the chances that today you would be seated by a momma who also has two special needs children?"

And there was God.  

He wasn't in the form of a cloud.  He wasn't in the form of a pillar of fire.  He was wearing a smock with His hair covered in red dye in the form of a momma who has two special needs children.  Oh, how He loves me.  And oh, how he ministered to my broken heart through that precious lady.

Natalie leaves for a treatment center in the morning.  She is actually excited about it because she sees it as being one step closer to getting back to Russia....she still says she hates me and cannot help her feelings....and believes all of her despair would disappear if she could re-enter the orphanage she came from.  Her plan?  To get the treatment center to see things her way.  

I get it.  If I were in Natalie's shoes, I might feel the exact same way.  None of us "fit in" in this world.  We all are looking to fill that missing piece within us....the piece that can only truly be filled when things are finally made right one day...when we are in the presence of our Lord and Savior.

In my brokenness....and in Natalie's brokenness...I know it sounds a bit strange, but I believe we are where the Father wants us.  Perhaps He has placed us both on this journey.  And one thing we certainly do have in common right now:  we are equally desperate for Him!

Through this, I am learning how the Lord feels when we reject Him.  And I'll tell you, it doesn't feel good at all to be rejected by your child.  It is the most painful experience of my life.

Through this, I believe Natalie is seeking answers....and Jeremiah 29:13 promises "You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all of your heart."

Please continue to pray for Natalie.....specifically pray that she will recognize God when He meets her there.   I truly wish He would show up in a burning bush or in a thundering voice....just so she wouldn't miss Him....but who knows how He will show up to her?  My prayer is only that she will "see".

"One thing I do know....I was blind, but now I see!"  (John 9:25)