A Cryin Shame

28 Sep 2012 4 Comments

by eguthaus in real talk, Uncategorized, urban missions, what's up with the Goot Fam

Writing here took a summer vacation. And then September came. And between a birthday and out of town visitors and working on a new project for (in)courage September went. So, here we are today for a bit of a check in.

Overall, things are status quo here. Covenant House is an amazing organization and the youth that they encounter are so complex and beautiful. It’s an honor to be a witness to what they are doing. Jason received a promotion back in August that has him overseeing the community services side of CH Orlando. It’s been a large adjustment, but is going very well.

We spent the summer really digging in to connecting with Orlando as home. We’re still waiting for that to happen. Which is frustrating for ALL of us if we are being honest. E V E R Y T H I N G about living here is so vastly different than the life that we’ve always known. What I’ve started to see is that perhaps that’s the point. You see, our journey to right now actually started nearly 5 years ago with the birth of our 2nd daughter and a severe back injury for Jason when she was just 9 weeks old. We lost A LOT in the course of that year, especially, but into the 2nd and 3rd year of recovery as well. Full time income. Overtime. Security. Friendships. My health. Innocence. Freedom. Independence. I could go on and on. We were forced into a life that we would never have chosen. We’ve been putting the positive spin on that life -the one that was forced upon us- for 3 years. Seminary and ministry and missionary poverty and outreach and impulsive moves for living out The Call and living a life that defies conventional logic? It’s exhausting. And lonely. And depressing. And shameful. *sigh*

In some odd twist of Intervention, we have become the very people we minister to. Perhaps that was the point all along? To die to ourselves so much that we became one with the least among us. Leviticus 26:12 maybe? Only I’ll tell you what, that sounds infinitely more noble than it feels. I’m still clinging to my middle class life. The one with insurance coverage. The one with adequate therapy for my kid is a phone call away. The one where there wasn’t a knot looming in my stomach every aching day. The one where birthdays and holidays were cause for excitement instead of dread. The one where living in a single family home again wasn’t a far fetched dream. The one where reading family and friends posts on Facebook and email forwards didn’t make you want to curl up and hide because they dripped with conservative stereotypes and degradation of welfare recipients. Perhaps they forgot who was amongst them. Perhaps they didn’t. Either way, here’s the news flash: The statutory procedure or social effort designed to promote the basic physical and material well-being of people in need does not at all equate to the health, happiness, and fortunes of a person or group. It’s almost laughable actually.

My friend shared this blog earlier this week. It’s an extensive list with lifestyle characteristics of being poor that was written back in 2005 just after Katrina hit. The list is long. Please read it. There are hundreds of comments. Please read them. There are truths shared there that most people will never even imagine, let alone breathe. I certainly never thought that I would, and yet here I am. So as I’ve gone through the moments of my daily life I’ve been formulating my own list because simply saying that I can relate to at least 70% of someone else’s words, be it first hand or through observation, didn’t feel adequate. Because you don’t know them. But you do know us.

For us, poverty is…

Poverty is always serving your family’s meal first so you are certain that they have as much as they desire and don’t know that there’s any lack.

Poverty is silently cringing as your kids rattle off their halloween costume dreams.

Poverty is trying to not freak out when your kids ask for another snack because they are growing.

Poverty is not being able to do your own shopping for your kids clothing.

Poverty is no date nights because even if you could find a free sitter, there’s not extra for going anywhere.

Poverty is desperately praying that your food allergies will be healed so that you can eat cheaper food.

Poverty is being too afraid to test the food waters because you can’t afford an ER bill if something goes wrong.

Poverty is counting down the days until your baby stops nursing so that you can save the $55/mo it costs for the blood pressure medication that keeps you from having a stroke while you’re lactating.

Poverty is feeling guilty for wishing her nursing time away.

Poverty is doing everything you can to make sure your kids don’t know that you’re poor.

Poverty is having nightmares regularly that other kids are making fun of them because they are poor.

Poverty is leaving a church because you don’t want to be the ‘charity case’ family.

Poverty is avoiding social connections because you don’t want to turn down another invite because there is no money for an activity.

Poverty is skipping a bill to feed your family.

Poverty is shut off notices.

Poverty is crying because you feel like you’re failing your kids by not providing them what you had.

Poverty is crying because your kids are so blessed by other people that your thoughtfully selected gifts for them get tossed to the side.

Poverty is self diagnosing medical issues and treatments because appointments are very expensive and treatment even more so.

Poverty is watching your bank account like a hawk.

Poverty is the panic that sets in every time you use your debit card to pay, even when you know there’s enough money.

Poverty is being at home way too much because you don’t have transportation.

Poverty is feeling like you’re short changing your kids because your world is so small.

All That Glitters Is Not Gold Series: Living a Lie

01 Jun 2012 4 Comments

by eguthaus in all that glitters is not..., real talk, spirituality, urban missions

I started writing this post back in November of 2010, the day after my 29th birthday actually. I thought I was ready at the time to share it with people, but, as I wrote, I quickly learned differently. It was simply too soon and I had not healed near as much as I thought. So I’ve set it aside since then…until now. Goot and I have discussed at length what could happen from sharing this information with people-there are MANY people (friends AND family) who have not.a.single.clue. about the magnitude of what they are about to read. It is requiring both of us to be very vulnerable…to open ourselves and our family up to scrutiny and judgement. However, we both stand firm in trusting that sharing our WHOLE story is part of who we are and how we are called to live out our lives as urban missionaries. I hope that it can be read with grace and that the Light shines through our story of darkness.

*****

On Christmas Eve morning 2009, the boy and I woke up strangely early.  He was exactly one month old and of course had yet to master the whole sleeping thing.  My house was strangely quiet and still-and I had this uncomfortable feeling in my gut that wouldn’t cease.  So I wrapped up my sweet boy and headed quietly downstairs to change his diaper.  And there it sat…my hubby’s laptop…screaming at me to come and take a look.  Thus began a tug of war in my head and heart-like two voices duking it out.  The one side reminding me that we don’t have a need to check up on each others computer usage-the other side gripping and shaking me as if to say “But you have to this time”…

And so I did.  I remember my heart beating violently inside of me, like when you can hear your heart in your ears and that everything slowed down around me-life became distant in the moment that I discovered things that I never knew I would have to face.  I remember gathering up my tiny boy, the laptop and the blanket I had wrapped around me to walk up stairs…I remember flipping on the light as I tossed the laptop onto our bed and quietly yelling “what is wrong with you” through shallow breath and flowing tears…I remember being back downstairs standing, holding my son, and realizing that I was getting tingly and was likely to pass out if I didn’t start breathing regularly again…and I remember the brief moment of silence, as I was trying to pull myself together, until I heard my hubby treading down the stairs.     

*****

That’s as far as I got when I sat down the first time, so I’ll pick it up from there…

In early 2010, half way through Goot’s first year of seminary, we nearly lost our marriage to betrayal, addiction and emotional infidelity. The pain and emotion that we experienced between December 2009 and April 2010 is beyond words. Still to this day, it leaves both of us breathless and silent. We felt so very alone. And we didn’t know who we could or should talk to because when you open up to get support, you also open up to judgement and we just didn’t have the strength to be judged. After all, Goot was the seminary intern. We were the new people. We had 3 young children. We were pursuing a call in full time ministry. Certainly there wasn’t room for any of what we were facing in the image that people were presented with. So, we went to church. We smiled. We engaged in polite conversation. We fielded the ‘you have such a beautiful family!’ comments like pros. We went home. I cried. We repeated. week. after week. after week. I desperately wanted to scream from the rafters that we needed a life boat, and fast, but as much we needed that vessel I needed to feel as though my husband was safe more.

*****

Thus began what I refer to as living a lie. Here we were, growing in our calling to urban ministry; laying the foundation for the STEPS; pouring into other people; getting down on some serious intercessory prayer; helping other couples reconcile their marriages (ironic, I know); preaching and teaching and everything else…and yet we were not doing these things for one another. I mean, we kept things up for the kids, with bed time prayers and belting out the Newsboys or Carlos Whittaker and going to church every painful week. But we stopped praying with each other…(i used up all my words pouring my heart out and pleading with my Father during the day-I had nothing left to say by bedtime) We stopped praying at the dinner table…(what was the point anyway? because God saw the junk that was going down and I made sure to pray over the food as I was cooking so it was already blessed, right?) We stopped encouraging one another to seek the face of Jesus more. We simply stopped…

*****

I’ve often thought about why we stopped and I think that the best answer is that we didn’t intend to. We didn’t intend to stop at all, actually. What we intended to do was seek out trusted people to talk our way through the madness. People who were willing to hold us accountable and support us-get dirty WITH us-as we trudged through. Some days felt like puddles, others like quick sand. But what happened in the course of putting supports in place is that we were left doing the work. ALL of the work. Without a life line. I can count literally on less than one hand the people who have been there for us from discovery until now (you know who you are and you do not have ANY idea how grateful we are for you-thank you from the depths of our beings). On the contrary, most of our pleas for help went like this: “Hey trusted mentor/pastor/person of faith I’m about to lose everything and everyone that matters to me, can you help me get through this?” “That’s not really anything I know much about, but I guess so?!” {crickets} hmmm, I don’t really recall asking for an expert, just someone who cared enough to help, but, okay…let’s try this again. “Hey fellow seminarian friend I’m about to lose everything and everyone that matters to me, can you help me get through this?” “Well, I can, but I’m not really here to hold your hand or pat you on the back, so yeah…that’s the best I can do.” “Hmm, okay. Well can we get some coffee so I can talk with you about a few things I’m struggling with?” “I’ll check my schedule and let you know…” {crickets} and this went on and on and on. And what happens when you’re in crisis and you feel like it takes all your energy simply to get out of bed and take a pee in the morning, even though your eyeballs are floating, is that you don’t have the energy to continually pursue people even if you could really use their help. It’s simply too much. And so you stop pursuing AND you stop Pursuing… … … … … …

*****

Living a lie is exhausting and I suppose that’s what these ‘all that glitters…’ posts are about. Coming clean about who we are and what we’ve walked through in hopes that it won’t continue to suck so much life altering energy from who we are. Because after all, THIS is the Goot Fam. WE are the Goot Fam. And we are who we are not only because of where we are going, but because of where we have been. Goot’s and my Story runs deep. We don’t want to shy away from it or pretend like it didn’t happen. He and I have seen a lot of people come and go from our lives over the course of our time together. However, we’ve both reached a point of saying ‘no more’. If you’re going to be around to journey with us, you need to know exactly what kind of ride you’re in for. Either jump in and buckle up or stand in judgement, but get the hell out of the way…please! :)
*****
And so, we press on. We’ve worked incredibly hard the past 2.5 years to ‘start’ again. Some things have come easy, others are still a work in progress and probably always will be. But the important thing is that we keep trying. We keep reevaluating. We keep learning. We keep doing grace. We keep doing real.
                                                                                                    {We keep doing love.}

All That Glitters Is Not Gold

04 May 2012 6 Comments

by eguthaus in 5 minute Friday, all that glitters is not..., PPD, real talk, self care Tags: ,

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how I’ve become the person that I loathe. The one who doesn’t share the whole truth about ‘how they are’ when asked, because I don’t want to be a drag. Or i don’t want to be that person who is always brutally honest. But when it comes down to it, that’s exactly what I need to be. i need to be brutally honest about what’s going on here because who am I helping if I’m not?

I have a secret to share…many secrets actually, but they are going to come out in a new series called Real Talk with Mama Goot. This is number one…. Real Talk: I have post partum depression.

I’ve chalked up my melancholy sadness to the transition of our moving in warp speed time and doing so in the wake of having a new baby and then trying to get settled in and and and…only then I realized that the ands weren’t stopping. They were merely excuses and justifications for the fact that I often felt crazy miserable inside. Or the fact that my brain would take over and send me on a roller coaster with the lowest lows I’ve seen in years. It’s amazing what being alone with your thoughts can do and I’ve had quite enough of being alone with mine….so now I’m sharing them you. Airing out the dirty laundry. It was time.

(ed note: This was written as part of 5 Minute Friday over at The Gypsy Mama)

The face at the window

26 Apr 2012 Leave a Comment

by eguthaus in i love me some Jesus, real talk, spirituality, urban missions Tags:

I’m going to try my hand at speed blogging because it might just be the only way that I get thoughts to post now in life! That said, I’m going to do my darndest to catch typos, spelling and grammatical errors etc, but I can’t make any promises. So just pretend like you don’t see them and I’ll pretend that I don’t care : )

*****

There’s a little old woman that lives across the way from us. She only speaks Spanish (so she claims, but we’ve had some pretty decent broken Spanglish conversations! Which reminds me that I need to get my hands on that movie to watch again and you need to do the same if you’ve never seen it…) so we speak a lot in smiles and waves. She’s homebound now, but she used to live in our upstairs apartment. I often reflect on how her change in life and abilities led to us having an affordable home here; how had she not required surgery that left her unable to do the stairs in her son’s home, there would not have been an opening for us until the end of March-much too late-and there were not any.other.apartments available. Not one. And then it hits me again: timing. It’s always about timing isn’t it? In the midst of chaos and lack of understanding, it’s always about the timing…be it your own or Someone else’s.

What I’ve come to face over and over is that the less I choose my timing and leave it in much more capable Hands, the results are always more amazing that I would have orchestrated myself. Now, in my continual state of human-ness, I don’t always like this whole Timing thing. And I’m talking about capital T timing, as in God’s got his hands all up in my groove timing. Not timing-lower case t timing-as in I make my own decisions and choose to do whatever makes me feel good, timing. I desperately want Time and time to align always. The feeling of bliss that I experience when they do is like none other! Right now, to be fully honest, T and t are not in sync very often. And it is hard. And isolating. And there’s a wholelotta emotion that comes with that. Emotion that I am trying to get comfortable enough with to share here, but it just hasn’t come yet-patience is not my greatest asset.

But then I see her face at the window with it’s gentle smile and deeply creased wrinkles; the kind of wrinkles that tell a brilliant story where time and Time have collided again and again and again. I take those moments, the smiles and waves, to shift to gratitude; to pause and give thanks because even in the midst of many things I do not understand in a chronos sense, I am still Loved enough, Cherished enough to have kairos moments laid out for me.

(thanks to momastary.com for this blog at the beginning of the year that has helped me immensely through that concept. It was posted just a few short weeks before we hopped on the crazy train and I’m SO THANKFUL that I was able to soak in kairos moments throughout it all! Seriously, take the time to read it, even if you’re not a parent because the concept is amazing-life changing even)

Nineteen Days

10 Mar 2012 3 Comments

by eguthaus in i love me some Jesus, parenting, real talk, spirituality, what's up with the Goot Fam

I’ve had lots of questions the past week or so about how things are going as we continue to get settled into our new life which kept nudging me to blog about it instead of trying to share every detail with each individual.  As a disclaimer, if you are looking for the ‘following God’s plan for our life is just so fantastic, even when it’s stressful, and everything is going fantastically well’ answer then you should probably  stop reading here and accept what I just wrote as your neatly packaged with a bow on top response… :)  However, THIS is the Goot Fam! And authenticity IS what we seek in how we live out our lives and the way that we interact with everyone soooo, yeah. You know how I do things!

So here we are.  The trip down went better than we ever could have imagined.  My children who never sleep when we’re in hotels and can’t stand riding in the car to Grand Rapids, let alone across the country, really rose to the occasion.  They were amazing especially during some extended car stops to deal with vomit (3 to be exact), losing the DVD privileges (it contributed to the vomit) and having to separate from daddy while he waited for someone to come fix a tire ready to blow out and we travelled on to the hotel of the night.  All of this happened on Friday (our 2nd day of travel and the longest of the trip) and came on the heals of a crazy Thursday which had me running all.over.Holland to get cash to pay for the rental truck because the total cost exceeded the daily limit for our debit card and the banks computers were down so NOTHING could be done over the phone! (Macatawa Bank: I WILL NOT MISS YOU!)  Oh! And there was that oil leak from the moving truck when we came out from dinner that first night…the one that Goot described as “um, it’s more than I’m comfortable with’ when i asked him how much was leaking!  The first 2 days had me NERVOUS for the remaining 2!!

It was a really weird reality for me as I drove behind my husband and son in the moving truck that contained all of our physical possessions.  On more than one occasion, I realized just how little I had actually processed everything that was going on.  By the time we got to the final stretch on Sunday morning, the emotions were real and weird and kind of not describable.  I was very much ready to finally see where we would be creating ‘home’; to take it in; to see if my mental planning from measuring and guessing and thinking and looking at a floor plan would actually work.

We were greeted by beautiful sunshine which was super helpful and instantly lifting.  The unloaders were swift and before I knew it, it was truly game time.  I had rooms full of boxes and camp was ready to be set up.  The physical space took shape quickly.  The mental space….well…

This whole transition has been incredibly taxing mentally and emotionally.  For us adult peeps AND the kids.  However, the kids, I think, have handled things better than we have in complete honesty!  I am not ashamed to say that yes, I did in fact have a temper tantrum that would have rivaled ANY 2 year old after about a week of being here. And in true 2 year old fashion I do not even know what it was over :) I have yelled. I have cried. I have cussed (yes, even nice Christian girls know curse words-especially this one and I am NOT afraid to use them). And I have cried some more.  This is probably where I should add that I am NOT a crier.  Like not at all.  Especially not in front of my kids. This is also where I should correct that to say that I WAS not a crier…especially in front of my kids…until I moved 1200+ miles with less than 3 weeks notice.  And I am better for it.

I don’t think you can prepare for something like this.  For what it feels like when you watch THOUSANDS (like 5+) of dollars continually roll out of your bank account when you are a family who needs every.single.stupid.cent to just get by-not live lavishly or even comfortably for that matter, just to get by. For what it feels like to walk into your ‘home’ and have it smell like fresh paint day after day after day, when all you want it to smell like is ‘you’; like ‘home’. For what it feels like when you realize that while yes, you do live in a large metro area that has public transit, said public transit system is grossly inadequate and you won’t actually have a car 5 days a week while your husband is working. For what it feels like when you get a knock on your door at 8:30am to complain about the noise from your kids when you had just been relishing a brief moment in the kitchen over how they were finally playing nicely and might actually be starting to feel happy in their new space. For what it feels like to have your safety net of food assistance and health care coverage yanked out from under you-the very net that allowed for your husband to take a job in his calling with regular hours even though it paid a fraction of what your family needs to survive- without guarantee of getting it back. For what it feels like to fight with your husband on the way to his first day on his highly anticipated new job because emotions are so high and you’ve forgotten how to talk with one another about how you ‘feel’. For what it feels like to have your 2 year old son tell you he wants to go home when you’ve been working without abandon to make things feel like home.

You also can’t prepare for what it feels like to hear your daughter come running inside proclaiming ‘mom!! we’re friends!!’. What it feels like to see your family’s skin glow golden from sunshine in the middle of winter. What it feels like to be outside every day with your kids. What it feels like to listen to your husband share about being the Hands and Feet to young people who just need Someone. What it feels like to share the ocean beach you loved as a child with the tiny (and not so tiny) feet of your own family not because you are on vacation, but because you are home. What it feels like to successfully enroll your child in the necessary umbrella school for legal homeschooling; to have it be the easiest thing you would encounter for WEEKS; to have it remind you that yes, you are in fact an unschooler at heart and it is nothing to apologize for. What it feels like to have life explosively blow up in your face-LOUDLY-only to have the hand of God breathe a gentle breath into the smoldering embers and reignite a fire that you thought burned out years ago. What it feels like to physically feel Satans attacks on you and your children; to have them be so strong and to KNOW that you are only experiencing them because he is PISSED that you are walking in a sweet spot of swift obedience to serve a mighty God. What it feels like to fall in love with Jesus all over again. What it feels like to cherish the Holy Spirit as your compass. What it feels like to KNOW you are right where you belong.

So, 19 days…that’s how long it took for the shit to stop hitting the ceiling day in and day out and raining yuck down on me. That’s how long it took for my house to smell like home. That’s how long it took for me to shift from fear and angst and bitter to joy and gratitude and peace. That’s how long it took for me to breathe complete new breaths of sunshine and Sonshine. That’s how long it took for me to finally be able to EXHALE.

On the move

08 Feb 2012 4 Comments

by eguthaus in i love me some Jesus, real talk, spirituality, urban missions, what's up with the Goot Fam Tags:

This is going to be as short of a version as this story can be in an attempt to fill in some details for those of you wondering how on earth it is that we are now moving across the country in the opposite direction of where we have planning for months and not only doing so, but doing so in 2 weeks time!

Right around the first of the year, I had some heavy doubts move in concerning our move to Denver. I couldn’t put a finger on it, but I pretty much knew in the depths of everything that I am that we were being told not to go. After stewing with this for 2 weeks, I finally brought it up to Goot knowing that it was going to be devastating to him, but also knowing the consequences that I have faced when I have KNOWN that the Lord was telling me not to do something and I did it anyway. I was NOT willing to go down that path again! So we sat with the idea of pursuing things elsewhere for a couple of days and agreed to talk it through more thoroughly that coming Saturday over lunch as well as earnestly seek guidance on where we were supposed to be going.

Saturday came and neither one of us had a real concrete idea of what we were to pursue. Only two places had come across the radar, one of which we ruled out quickly (and our ruling was confirmed just 48 hours later!) the other was Florida. Even still, we had no idea where to look within the state! We settled on seeking out Orlando and Tampa and felt good about that. We also asked God to speak to us about where we were to go through our children, specifically Love, knowing that they may not be able to speak a specific location name, but trusting that they would give us characteristics that we would recognize as a specific location. We intentionally did not speak anything about our conversation in their presence so the slate would be clean! That night as I lay with Love after stories, I asked her where she would like to live if she could pick anywhere in the whole world to go. Without a second of hesitation her answer: Florida. We didn’t need to look anywhere else. Later that evening, Goot started looking for jobs just to see what was out there. He landed upon the organization called Covenant House and decided to submit his resume and cover letter to them. He was interested in what they do, but didn’t see an opening for him to apply for. He emailed his info on Monday night, after the weekend. Tuesday afternoon, he received a phone call from the director asking for a time to call him the next day for them to talk further about a position they’d like to consider him for. Wednesday morning, by 9a.m. he was on the phone getting the details and being asked to come down to interview for a position that they had already finished interviewing for, but wanted to hold off making a decision on until they were able to interview with Goot…an interview process that they normally do over a whole week, but were willing to do in one day for him…and they would let him know at the conclusion of the interview what their decision was. Wednesday afternoon, 96 hours after Florida even entered the picture and less than 48 hours after the ‘just looking to have a conversation’ resume was submitted, we were booking travel arrangements for Goot to Orlando.

That was THREE weeks ago TODAY. We leave a week from tomorrow.

We are excited, like so excited, for new opportunity! We have lived in a feeling of drought, a refiner’s fire of sorts, for the 2.5 years we’ve been here. It’s been nothing like what I expected; what we expected. And yet in the midst of the drought, I’m being shown the people who have been the oasis. With every rushed good bye, the pains of leaving become more real.

So there you have it! We will keep you posted on our travels (thank you social networking!) and prayer needs as we go. Goot will be driving the moving truck and my mom and I will be in the van with the kids (who are genuinely thrilled to be going-like shockingly so! It’s helpful to see them be ready to go with only the normal fears and questions that you would expect). Praying for our stamina and patience would be a GREAT place to start ;) pray also for the STEPS ministry and what plans God has for us with that in our new location!

We have accomplished an amazing amount of work in the week since Goot returned home from Orlando, but the mountain still seems like a high one to climb in the week that we have left! Please allow us some grace if we don’t get to personally say goodbye…

“Praise the Lord! For he has heard my cry for mercy. The Lord is my strength and shield. I trust him with all my heart. He helps me, and my heart is filled with joy. I burst out with songs of thanksgiving.” Psalm 28:6-7

The Oxygen Mask Project

15 Jan 2012 1 Comment

by eguthaus in real talk, self care Tags: , , ,

So I made my social media declarations about this earlier today and it is with sheer determination that I was not going to let my day end without posting my oxygen mask list publicly. I’ve learned a lot in the 8 weeks since our 4th little person joined the fam…at the top of the list is that if I don’t take care of me first, the rest of the ship doesn’t float so well! Next on the list: taking care of yourself first is not a selfish act, it’s actually the first step to living a more selfless life. Here’s to the year of the oxygen mask turning into a lifestyle and not a challenge. I’d love to have you join me on the journey be it through your own list, checking in on my progress, positive energy or prayer! So here’s my list. I see it as a starting point; as accountability. NOT as a check list of ‘must do’ items. Rather a list of ‘love to do’ as I learn to love myself more.

30min/day walking
Zumba 1x week-minimum
Date time w/ J 2x/mo
Me time (not running errands) 2x/mo
Laugh more-especially at myself, especially when tense
Cry more
Talk about feelings instead of eating through them
Write more especially about feelings
Knit something for Baby R
Make a family quilt
Learn to crochet
Buy a pair of jeans that make me feel awesome no matter what they cost

A letter to my daughter

05 Sep 2011 3 Comments

by eguthaus in parenting, real talk, SPD

Dear Love,

This morning, you helped me finally admit something that daddy and I have tried to navigate around for many years.  Something that other people haven’t seen or experienced because we’ve worked really hard to pave a path of least resistance for you.  Something that other people haven’t understood or thought we should/could discipline out of you when they have seen it.  I’ve even tried to keep it from myself by renaming over and over what I knew in my heart to be true.  You my love, are special…different than other kids.  Not just in the Veggie tales ‘God made you special and He loves you very much’ kind of way.  But in the way that your brain and body try and connect with each other.  Sometimes they do great! Yet other times…not so much.  The other times are hard.  Hard because even though we know that you can’t control what is going on, no matter what it looks like to us on the outside, we still try and make it happen.  This morning was one of those times.  You felt cold, colder than the rest of us and it became a slippery slope from there.  And then the people around us started staring-which isn’t polite by the way-and daddy and I started to get uncomfortable.  And then I started to get anxious about what those staring people were thinking about us, about you.  But you still felt cold and just wanted your jeans at home and your feelings kept getting bigger and bigger and then they popped.  I’m sorry for making you aware that people were watching us-I should never do that, it was wrong and I will try very hard to not ever do it again.  It is not your fault.  And I keep trying to remember that.  And I keep trying to remember that it’s not our fault either.  We are finally so close to getting the help that we need to make this a bit easier for all of us, if only we can just hang on.  Just hang in there with me, Love, and we’ll all do this together!  I always want you to know how much we love you.  All of us-me and daddy, Monk, Bud Bud and the new baby.  Even when plans have to change in an instant.  Even when it’s frustrating.  Even when you hit and kick and spit.  Even when you scream mean and hateful things.  Even when it feels really, really bad.  We know that in that moment, you’re having a hard time and it will pass-we just have to hang on.  And yet the hard thing for other people is that because on the outside you look like every other kid that they see, they expect that you act like every other kid too.  As much as I want to change their expectations, I can’t.  I can’t make them understand what your everyday is like, what our everyday with you is like.  I can’t go up to them and say ‘if you knew that her brain and body worked differently, would you still be looking at us like that?’ although someday my instinct may just win out.  But I know that someday, you will do those things because that’s the kind of Love that you are!  I know, without a doubt, that you are going to change the world for other kids that hear and smell and touch and feel things in the special way that you do.  I know that it’s going to be awesome because that’s the kind of heart that you have!  We just have to hold on until we get there.

love,

mama

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