Quest for Acceptance: We are Flawed!

We are flawed! While that doesn't seem like a revelation, it really is. Stop and think about it. How many times have we been disapointed in ourselves for not succeeding or for something not being perfect or perhaps for not doing as good a job as someone else? How many times have we judged others for not doing a good job at something? We gauge ourselves on a standard that would require perfection to achieve and that is just not possible.

While cleaning out my closets, I discovered just how much of a perfectionist I am. I have dozens of projects half-finished because they were too flawed for me to even spend the time finishing them. I would toss it aside with the others in hopes of correcting the flaws at a later date or even starting over and making the next project flawless. Thus my flaw is my perfectionism.

But, my desire for perfection doesn't stop with craft projects but extends to motherhood. I expected so much of myself before becoming a mother. I had a long list of things I was going to do and a tall pile of books to teach me how to do them. None of those ideas worked, and no amount of books would provide me with a child who slept or who would stop crying from the pain of acid reflux.

My quest to be the perfect mom was flawed from the beginning, and it just went downhill from there. My other pre-baby idea was that all babies were born perfect. That's what we always hear. "He's perfect. Ten toes, ten fingers." "She's perfect and beautiful." My baby had a swollen eye that was completely closed. He was slightly jaundiced and not perfect.

But, before you chastise, acceptance begins with the realization that we are not perfect, not even as infants. We are not perfect physically or spiritually. We are born with the blood of our fathers polluted with the sins of Adam and Eve. Our bodies are just as flawed. If we weren't flawed, we certainly wouldn't need the Grace of our Lord Jesus Christ or the help of a gracious God.

In my pursuit of perfection, I certainly would not have found any need to call on God for help if I had had a perfectly healthy child, who slept through the night, and did not have acid reflux. I certainly would not have called on God for provision if we had not found ourselves in a situation in which we could not provide for our son and his medical needs.

I've received some backlash for focusing on my son's health issues and speech delays, but in truth, I am realizing that by focusing on his imperfections, I am seeing God working in miraculous ways. By accepting that life is not perfect, that my son is not perfect, that I am not perfect, and that our situation is not perfect, I am admitting that our life is a perfect place for God to show his handiwork.

Thus, I am, as a non-professional, suggesting that the first step to acceptance is accepting that we are all flawed, physically and spiritually, and that we need a God that is greater than our flaws and more gracious than we deserve. But, most importantly, because of our flaws and imperfections, we must rely on God to get us through, to provide for us, and to give us the strength in the tough times.

Operation: Clean Up Your Messy House

The unpublicized quest to clean my house of all the clutter actually began last year. Oprah had a challenge where you could sign-up for the challenge and her cleaning guru would send you monthly instructions with the goal of having a clutter free home in 5-6 months. It sounded like a good idea, so I signed up for the monthly newsletters. But, low and behold, reading newsletters doesn't get a house clean.

I had every intention of cleaning my house and ridding us of all the clutter but about the same time, we had two car accidents in two days and my son was diagnosed with 7q11.23 duplication. My focus turned to him and to putting our lives back together after so much chaos knocked all our socks off.

This January, I took up the cause again! Actually, it was the last week of December. I made a plan to clean one room and one closet each week. I stuck to it, and am proud to say that as of Monday, I have accomplished the task of cleaning up my messy house. The clutter is still here, as I have dreams of a garage sale once all the snow melts and the weather warms. I would love a little extra cash from all that clutter. It would sure seem like it was all worth keeping.

While I am overjoyed to have clean closets and a clutter-free house, I found myself dealing with a lot of emotional baggage while discarding so much junk. I was astonished by the shear magnitude of stuff that we had collected, hung on-to, and refused to simply let go of. Letting go became the theme for the 6 weeks that it took to clean everything. There's a reason for all that junk. There's a reason for hanging onto the junk. But to see the reason, one must be willing to look beyond the mess into one's own heart and mind. And, that's exactly what I did.

I discovered a great deal about myself while looking at items that had a purpose but were never used for that purpose. I don't want to unload what I discovered, but know that I know far more about myself after having cleaned out my closets than I ever knew before.

I would challenge anyone surrounded by clutter whether it be at your office, in your closet or somewhere in your house to clean up your mess, and in the process, examine why the clutter exists, and what you can learn about yourself by clearing it out. It is an incredible process, and while painful in the moment, well worth it in the end.

Book Review: Mom's Bible with Notes by Bobbie Wolgemuth

I haven't had time to read much lately, but have been determined to stick to my Read Through the Bible challenge. So what little reading I have done has been Bible reading. Which is why when Thomas Nelson had a new Bible up for review I jumped on the opportunity.

The Mom's Bible: God's Wisdom for Mothers with Notes by Bobbie Wolgemuth is written in the New Century Version. I had never heard of NCV until I saw this Bible. I am by no means a scholar of translations but did some research and learned that the NCV began as a Bible written for the deaf, leaving out the common theological terms that they would not have heard or be familiar and simplifying the text to make it easier to understand. The NCV is not the same version, but the text is nevertheless quite simplified and reads a bit like a Reader's Digest version of the Bible. Theological terms that we have come to understand are replaced with simpler words. For instance, covenant is replaced with agreement. Tabernacle is replaced with tent of meeting. In my opinion, these changes take away from the meaning of the text.

With that said, I would like to say that the Mom's Bible is a great Bible for quick reads. If you need a moment to remind yourself that someone is in your corner while all the kids are in their corner, then this Bible is for you. This Bible is fast food for the Biblically hungry. I was able to read three chapters from Numbers while my son watched Sesame Street. Fast food or not, I felt much better after having spent some time reading the Bible. This Bible is not the best for in-depth studies, but for those quick reads while eating breakfast, this one will do the job.

The notes are written by Bobbie Wolgemuth and four other busy moms. I found the notes to be very insightful and thought provoking. They are not long and also make for a quick read. They are a bit like mini-studies over a couple of chapters.

The Bible itself is a great mom-tool as well. It is hard-backed with thicker pages than the normal Bible. This is good because, as I found out from experience, blueberry muffin wipes off fairly easily. My NIV study Bible would have immediately been ruined with muffin soaking through multiple onion-skin pages. The text is a bit small, but this allows the book itself to be thinner which in turn allows a person, even with small hands, to hold the book with one hand while spooning oatmeal with the other.

I would give this book 3 stars only because of my dislike for changing such important words in the text. As a fast food source, I would give it 4 stars. Every mom needs a source of fast food nearby for those occasions when gourmet just won't do.

Quest for Acceptance: Conversation

Since first posting about my quest for acceptance, I have been thrilled and relieved at the conversations that have begun. Conversations about what is "special needs" to what is "normal" to what is "acceptance" have all been discussed with great sincerity. I have been pleasantly surprised by people's willingness to discuss these subjects and even to set aside any feelings of judgment.

The openness of the conversations makes me wonder what would we learn if we were willing to set aside prejudices and judgment and have open, honest conversations about taboo subjects such as teen pregnancy and contraception, and debt and finances? What could we learn if we were willing to admit that we have faults and need help and advice from those who have gone before us?

The only thing that keeps me, personally, from admitting my weaknesses is the fear of being judged, and the fear of being told that my feelings are not legitimate. What would happen if we accepted the fact that not everyone is happy and successful in every situation?

What if we set aside judgments and criticisms and accepted that each person is an individual who deserves to be heard?

Thank you to everyone who have opened their hearts and minds and listened with such sincerity. It encourages me to be more open and honest with all of you and in that I live more authentically.

There will be more posts to come on Acceptance, but it may be a little while in coming. This quest will be ongoing for quite some time.

Quest for Acceptance: Cliff Jumping

Cliff jumping is the sport of jumping off a cliff into a deep pool of water. The thought of cliff jumping sounds like quite rush! Free falling through the air and hitting the cool water below sounds exciting. But then...I rememeber....I can't swim! Yes, literally. I can tread water, but swimming from one end of the pool to the other...no. Thus, once I hit the water, those with me would have to jump in to save me, dragging out my flailing body and ruining the fun for everyone! So, cliff jumping is completely disregarded as a possible sport for me.

Yesterday's post seemed a bit on the heavy side, so to ensure my friends and readers that I am not considering cliff jumping, I wanted to share a little more today.

While cliff jumping is a good metaphor for acceptance, bungee jumping is probably a better. In cliff jumping you have no one to catch you at the bottom; no one holding the rope if you will. In bungee jumping you have people there and a very nice, heavy bungee rope to catch you before you hit the bottom and bring you back up to safety.

It has been a little over 12 hours since my last post, and already, I have had several great, thought provoking comments, and two wonderful conversations. I realized today that those friends and family with whom I have already spoken to are the ones at the top of the bungee looking out for me and encouraging me. While I feel like I am cliff jumping with no support and no one to catch me or rescue, the truth is I have friends all around me who are a greater support than I realized.

I remember the Sunday after my son's diagnosis when my friend, Liz, said to me, "You two are a perfect match." She was talking about my son and I, but other than that I was clueless to understand what she meant. I asked myself, "what does she know about me, that I don't know?" The answer is a LOT! Even though, I am not good about sharing my feelings, my friends see who I really am and strive to understand me. I don't hide my true self from them. Why? Because they don't judge me, and they encourage me! Even not knowing the full extent of a situation, God uses our friendships to encourage us. Liz's statement has stuck in my mind and remained a constant source of encouragement to me. But, it is all to God's glory because he put her in my life to be one of several who will watch the rope as I bungee jump... or who would jump in after me should I choose to Cliff Jump!

I would be remiss if I did not encourage the anonymous person who stumbles across this post, to go out and live authentically and make some true friends and allow God to encourage you through them.

The Quest for 2010: Acceptance

I pondered this post for a long time before sharing it with you, my readers. Last year, I shared a quest for Connectivity through which I gained such insight that it literally changed my outlook on life. By opening up my own quest for general discussion with family, friends, and anonymous readers, I learned so much more than I would have ever learned on my own. Pursuing a quest on one's own is never as successful as it is when in the company of comrades.

My new quest is for acceptance. No, I am not talking about acceptance to a club or clique, but the last step in the five stages of grief: Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance.

It was through the counsel of a person who has walked in my shoes and who shared with me some profound wisdom, that I realized that I was grieving the loss of motherhood or more specifically what I dreamed of as motherhood.

As a mom of a special needs child, she shared with me her walk through the five stages of grief after the birth of her son. Like my son, when you look at her son, he looks perfectly fine, but lurking beneath the surface is a horrible medical problem that would profoundly change her life, her husband's life, and the life of their eldest son. She shared that you have to grieve for the loss of the dream and perception of normalcy. She shared how she had traveled through the stages finally ending up at acceptance. She finally accepted that her son had medical problems, but that it was okay, and that she would be spending a great deal of time in doctor's offices and surgery waiting rooms.

"You have to work through the same five stages of grief till you can accept that your life is not normal." I was in tears as she explained all this and for the very first time put words to what I was feeling and unable to put words to.

You see while my son looks normal no one realizes the anguish that I feel because he is not 100% healthy. I am reminded daily of that as I wait for a dirty diaper or clean up spit-up from yet another acid reflux bout, or as I sit in the second or third doctor's appointment for the month with yet another specialist.

My son's diagnosis with 7q11.23 duplication is only a title to sum it all up: constipation, acid reflux, hypotonia (low muscle tone), speech delay, an undiagnosed sleep disorder, and various eye sight issues which require glasses and patching for two hours at a time. We see six specialists and our pediatrician twice as often as the average child for weight and growth checks. Twice he has been in the failure to thrive category. His speech has not progressed since he was eight months old. In order to achieve even the most normal milestone, it takes great effort on not only his part, but mine, and his occupational therapist. Every milestone accomplished is because he was taught by me or his therapist.

So I grieve and I pray.

The Quest for Acceptance: Permission Granted

I grieve, and I pray. I grieve because while most parents make playdates, we make doctor's appointments; while most kids play at the park, we are at therapy. And I pray that one day my child will be normal, that he will grow out of his problems, that nurture can overcome the horrible genetic hand that nature dealt to us.

No one tells you that you can grieve over something other than death. No one tells you that you can grieve over the loss of a job or loss of health. No one tells you it is okay to feel the deep sense of loss when a dream never comes to fruition, whether that dream be motherhood or something else entirely. Some people have told me that it can always be worse, and I should be thankful. Grieving does not mean one is not thankful; it merely means one is forced to accept what was not originally planned.

So for the first year of my son's life, I was in denial. I accepted that things were just outside of normal. Then he was diagnosed at 14 months of age, and I moved to anger, bargaining, depression, and back again to anger overlapped by bargaining and depression.

Today, I sit at the precipice of acceptance. I say that only because I give myself permission to grieve. There are days that I am angry...angry with God...angry with myself...angry with people around me. There are days that depression overwhelms me, and I feel darkness closing in once again. But, through all the tears acceptance is near and acceptance is the quest. What does acceptance look like? I don't really know. What does acceptance feel like? I don't know that either. What lies beyond grief? I don't know that either. But, I give myself permission to grieve, so that I may see what is beyond grief. I give myself permission to ACCEPT!