I am FOR you.

We are FOR each other.

I still remember the first time I heard this, the first time I tangibly felt and received this message of hope and truth. It was during a moment when my husband and I were discussing our kids. One of those tense moments, when both parents are sharing their concerns, and stresses and desperately searching for validation from one another. Sometimes this kind of sharing can come off sort of defensive, as if you are trying to make certain your spouse knows that you have nothing left.

When I reflect on this moment we had, one of countless many, it was not that we were competing against one another to win a battle over who was more burnt out, or who had been working harder. Rather, we were both simply crying out to one another, seeking connection and validation. My husband was wise enough to discern what needed to be said next.

He placed his hands on my shoulders and with a bit of firm pressure he said, “I am for you. We are FOR each other.” I knew in that moment he was offering affirmation. He affirmed that he could see how hard I was going, and he connected that he knew exactly how I felt. I could sense his eyes saying, “We are both weary, but let’s remember and let’s promise that we are FOR EACH OTHER.”

12 years ago.

This phrase has been spoken many times since that first time. And every time it speaks life and creates connection. I can imagine like most, our family’s life and all that it entails often looks like a tangled mess of electrical cords that results from two many devices plugging into to the same power source, overlapping, and overwhelming one another. On a daily basis we are juggling the needs of our 3 children and our own. Most of our discussions end up being completed via email and text message because the noise level in our house is close to impossible to overcome. Decisions need to be made daily on who is taking which child to speech therapy, to occupational therapy, to school, to gymnastics, or to the doctor. Then debriefs need to be held, on what strategies need to be implemented at home after said appointments; to help our boys build on what they are learning and generalize it to the home and other contexts.

Most weeks, there is urgent need to discuss a school or social situation that went awry and how we can better support our boys to be more successful the next time. I fully believe that every child regardless of ability is growing and learning how to participate in this world at their own levels and in their own ways. However, in our experience, when there is a disability involved, navigating raising a child can become confusing and complex. Many disabilities are not isolated, impacting only the one “said” area of development. Whatever it is, whatever form it takes, the disability or disorder impacts all of their senses. How they take in and process the environment around them, and how they interact with others socially is greatly challenged. For a parent of a child with special needs, impairments in areas such as executive functioning, self-control and emotional-regulation caused by a Syndrome or Disorder can result in social interactions that make you hold your breath, never knowing how it will turn out.

Just a normal day with these 2 goof-balls.

But like most parents, regardless if the child is neuro-typical or neuro-diverse, your hope is to protect them from heartache, rejection and consequence. Your goal is to provide them the tools they need to recognize their weaknesses and work to overcome them on their own. We don’t want our children to live in a bubble, never experiencing the challenge of working through mistakes and overcoming adversities. But when we know that there are elements of their mental and physical wiring that are limited, we have to be “extra” present and involved. We have to serve like training wheels on a bicycle. We have to be that buffer until they gain the ability and confidence to do what “most” people can without assistance or intervention.

Parenting a child with “extra” needs is often an all-encompassing job. The management and discussion of their needs can be overwhelming. The temptation to beat yourself up for not ALWAYS parenting with “therapy” skills is constant. It is easy to condemn yourself for getting irritated or impatient, momentarily forgetting that their disability is constant. And it takes ongoing awareness to control the amount of time spent sharing these thoughts, battles, schedules and strategies with your spouse.

It takes conscious thought and awareness to recognize when my neuro-diverse childs’ needs have become a monopoly and my neuro-typical childs’ needs are being passed over. Parenting is a juggling act, no matter how many children you have, and regardless of abilities or needs. All any parent hopes for at the end of the day is that they loved their child well and that they themself can have a moment to breathe.

Our incredible 9-year old daughter.

I am so grateful for the ways that my husband and I work together as partners and as teammates to keep our family boat afloat and moving forward. But if we all talk about is logistics, it becomes easy to forget about each other. It becomes easy to stop “seeing” one another. And for the health of our marriage, it is imperative to balance what we say to one another, and to never stop “seeing” each other.

I will never forget something I learned during a therapy session with my counselor years back. I had just been officially diagnosed with anxiety and started taking medicine. We were discussing how anxiety can look different in each person. He offered me a visual that has always stuck with me. For me, anxiety is like an “object” hovering over my face. The stress from whatever the trigger was has become so all encompassing that I can barely see what’s in front of me. I can hear all the voices, and sounds but cannot differentiate enough to attend to who or what is talking. I may have a little peripheral vision, but I have become clouded and unable to “see” the person in front of me. I can only feel that something is not OK and my flesh wants to “fight or flight.”

I have learned to identify and sense the tension in my body and the tightness in my chest. I have learned to recognize my feelings and to validate them, yet also my ability to “take control.” I can imagine as if I am grabbing the “mass” (aka-anxiety) from over my face, removing it and placing it down on the seat next to me. I am then free to truly see the person in front of me with clarity. I can see others for who they are and not see them through anxiety’s threatening filter. Once anxiety has been safely placed to the side, I am more abIe to see and hear my husband, or my child, or whoever it may be, sharing their weary heart. I can better identify that the anxiety is a side effect of pain, hidden somewhere, trying to be eased. Practicing this exercise has helped to avoid the all too common tendency for people to unconsciously “bleed” on one another. We are all susceptible to pain. We are all hurting from something. We all want the pain to subside and have our own ideas of how to absolve it. When we stop seeing the humanity in one another, others, especially those with differing opinions, challenging behaviors and attitudes simply become an unconscious threat to our own ability to keep the peace, and avoid pain.

Imagine if we all could promise to never stop seeing the humanity in one another. To never let fear rob us of clarity. Imagine if we as people could truly believe that we are all “FOR each other.”

Be still, my heart.

My prayer and hope is that deep down this is true. That all people, at the base of their soul have a heart for others. That regardless of ethnicity, gender, political party, vaccination status or anything else that divides, we all want to be loved and offer love. But because of pain and fear, we just forget how.

So in my own small way, I am trying to pass on a love that is unconditional within my family. Modeled after the love of Jesus, who while crucified on a cross, sentenced there by an angry mob said, “Father, forgive them, For they do not know what they are doing.” Luke 23:34

I still can’t imagine what it was like to offer that kind of grace and mercy. But I believe that He was able to do so because HE trusted in the Father. He trusted his life into the hands of God and trusted in His plan, even though He had to face such great suffering and death. Hebrews 12:2 reminds us that, “For the joy set before him, he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.” The following verse says, “Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.”

When I meditate on the life and death of Christ, I am compelled to cling to Hebrews 12:1-2, “Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders, and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith.” And I store in my heart the truth of Romans 8:31, that “If God is for us, who can be against us?” I am in awe that we have a God whose love is unconditional and who is FOR us. I am so grateful that my husband started this phrase for our family. And I am blessed to be able to extend the same love and grace to my children.

On one particular day, I was able to offer this love to my son. I was waiting for him as he was getting off the school bus. As he descended the steps, another student immediately followed after him, racing to get to me first. This child wanted to make sure I knew that my son had teased him. On this particular day, I had a sense that the other child was not completely innocent. And if I’m honest, I was getting fatigued by this after school routine repeating itself day after day. I briefly acknowledged the other child’s complaint and began walking my son home.

I remember looking at my son while we were walking, and I could tell he was getting himself ready for another “talk.” This time, I looked at him and I said, “I need you to know, I am on your side buddy.”

He looked surprised and even a little confused. And then he said, “No, you’re not,” and he hung his head.

At that point, I stopped walking and placed my hands on his shoulders and told him, “Whether you made a mistake or not, I am for you. I am on your side. Whether I need to teach you what you did wrong, whether there is a consequence, or whether the other kid started it, YOU are MY son. I am here for YOU. I am FOR you.”

And that was all we said that day.

Fatigue doesn’t care, but I do.

The room was pitch black, minus the dull glow from the star stickers on the ceiling above Garrett’s bed. The sound of pouring rain coming from the white noise app on the ipad was at max volume, but it still couldn’t drown out the tapping and clicking noises that each child was creating as they waited for sleep to wash over them. Every “tap” and “click” felt like nails on a chalkboard as my stomach tensed at their sound, over and over again. At this point, my mind and body were convinced that one more request, excuse or interruption to the bedtime efforts meant this day would never end.

This wasn’t a new experience. In fact, it was typical. So in all reality my brain knew that the boys would inevitably fall asleep and the day too would come to its end. But fatigue- be it emotional, physical or mental, did not care what my brain “should” know to be true. Fatigue doesn’t care how much I actually love these kiddos and cherish the cuddles. Fatigue pays no mind to the fact that once they fall asleep, my heart will leap a little as I peek at their peaceful faces. No. Fatigue only wants to hijack the brain with feelings of desperation.

So as I stare at the stars on the ceiling, and try to remain perfectly still in hopes that Jackson will forget I am there and fall asleep, my fatigue-hijacked mind keeps anticipating the glass of wine and TV show that lies ahead. Or alternatively (depending on the type of day I had) my body aches for the incredible feeling of a shower and crawling under the covers of my own bed that feels like the finish line I have been racing to cross for decades.

Then, it happens. Stillness and slow breathing. They are asleep! I made it! After what felt like an eternity, I am finally alone and can rest. No more requests, whining, begging, arguing, serving, running, redirecting, cleaning, mediating and just pain loudness. I have a couple solid hours to myself, if I can keep my eyes open. But then, upon finally making it to the shower, instead of basking in my solitude, my brain immediately reflects and condemns. I begin to ask myself questions like, “Did bedtime really take over an hour? Why does it take them so long to fall asleep? Why do I have to be there? Will they ever grow out of this? Was I even nice to be around? Why am I so angry? Why can’t I just be patient, and enduring?” And I pray, “Lord, help them not remember me like this, exhausted, irritable and quick-tempered.”

I remember the first couple years of motherhood, a veteran mom told me, “You are going to make mistakes as a parent, it is impossible not to. But thank God we can ask for HIS mercy to wash our mistakes away and HIS grace to fill in the gap.” She encouraged me not to sit in self-condemnation, but instead bring it all to the Lord. So every night, sometimes every day, every hour, every moment, I bring it all to the Lord. Because I am frustrated. I am exhausted. I am weary. I am tired of making the same mistakes, I am tired of how hard it is. I want to be stronger, more patient, more disciplined now. Because every moment that I am not, is another opportunity to blame myself for the misbehaviors of my children. Because that’s what I am tempted to do, all day long. Blame myself.

In the early years, it was less of my own and more of others playing the blaming and shaming game. The all too often, ever present answer to a mama’s cry for help was, “Oh, you JUST need to sleep train….you JUST need to breastfeed… you need to bottle feed so someone else can feed them…you need to expect immediate obedience with a happy heart on the first try… you need to spank… you need to stop letting them control you…you need to get rid of gluten and dairy… you need to get rid of TV and devices…YOU need to… you NEED to… you need TO…. and the list goes on and on.

I’m not sure if the “mom wars” are still as active now, if mama’s have become more supportive of each other’s varying styles, or if I have gotten better at tuning them out, but my battle these days are more of my own condemnation than the condemnation of others. For so many years, I tried to avoid making mistakes. I wouldn’t make decisions, or actions without doing my research to ensure that the success rate was high. I couldn’t offer myself the grace necessary to make a mistake and learn from it. It was too costly, so I had to make sure to get it right the first time.

That is, until a series of life-altering events happened that showed me just how little control I have. In Fall 2012, our firstborn ate her first peanut butter and jelly sandwich the day after her first birthday only to discover she had a life threatening peanut allergy. In Fall 2016 at age 33, I found out that all these years I had an undiagnosed anxiety disorder. And again in 2018 when our youngest son was 3, we learned that he had bilateral sensorineural hearing loss caused by a genetic syndrome called Usher’s Syndrome. And again, in 2019 at the age of 6 when we learned that our middle son had significant ADHD and Anxiety that required medication. Those are a lot of things to find out down the road. A lot of information received later than I would have liked. When you do not have all the information necessary to make all the right choices, you are given a lot of opportunity to make mistakes and get it wrong.

Let’s be honest, in life do we ever have all of the necessary information to make all the right choices? No. But we can do our best with what we have and never stop learning. We can be humble and offer ourselves the grace to face our mistakes so that we can grow. And if as an adult- I am still learning to do this, how much more can I offer this to my children who have much less years of mistakes to learn from.

Here I am, 38 and still making some of the same mistakes. Still struggling not to condemn myself.

Our middle son has been facing many struggles as a result of his disorders. The decision of whether or not to add anxiety medicine in addition to his ADHD medicine was a difficult decision to make. We had all of the necessary data to suggest that this was the next best move.

But I couldn’t get past myself.

And all the voices and all of the questions that have raced through my head before, came flooding back.

“Are you really going to put him on another medicine? He’s only 7.” … “Why don’t you strip his diet of all gluten and dairy?”… “Maybe he’s just a boy being a boy and you are not disciplining him enough?” … “Maybe you need to increase your anxiety medicine before you put him on another one.”… “Why can’t you just homeschool him?”… “Maybe all of his behaviors and struggles are because you are too weak.” …

So many voices. My own, and others.

Sometimes it feels as if the voices can consume me. Very similar to the actual noise in our household. It can be so loud, so overwhelming. When you have a 5- year old who is hard-of-hearing and still learning how to moderate his voice, and a 7-year old with ADHD who has one volume level- loud. And also a 9-year old who unfortunately learned that in order to be heard she has to push through and talk over the noise, and 2 parents who sometimes have to do the same in order to communicate who is picking the kids up from school, it feels like I am a thermometer about to burst. You know the cartoon thermometer? I can feel the red liquid rising quickly to the top of me about to burst, and I literally have to take myself to the front porch, shut the door and the noise behind me and breathe….or else.

So much noise, so many voices. I find myself preferring silence whenever I get the chance. When I go for a walk, a run, a bike ride or even in the car, I choose the quiet. I have to seek out the quiet. Not just to give my ears a rest. I desperately need to hear HIS voice. In the quiet, I can pray and ask for HIS voice to speak to me what is true. And I am reminded of what I know to be true about HIM, about myself, and about my circumstances. I am reminded that we waited until the doctor said it was OK to introduce peanut butter. I am reminded that we had Jackson in speech therapy for 2 years before they diagnosed his hearing loss. I am reminded that we sought council and nurtured Garrett’s sensory processing disorder as best as we could and even removed gluten from his diet before we went the medicinal route. I remember how we use essential oils to support our minds and body in a natural way. I remember that we tried many different ADHD medicines, and had him tested for celiac as we discerned his need for anxiety medication. And I remember how we have prayed every step of the way.

And in the silence, after they have fallen asleep, after I have snuggled with each of them and endured their restlessness and repetitive “clicks” and “taps”, I am reminded that I am FOR them. I love them so stinkin’ much.

I am frustrated, exhausted and weary BECAUSE I love them so stinkin’ much. I am frustrated and exhausted and weary BECAUSE I make mistakes, and I am not gonna stop trying to be better. I am frustrated and exhausted and weary BECAUSE they keep making mistakes, and often drive me nuts, but I am not gonna stop trying to help them grow. And I am frustrated, exhausted and weary because I have 3 children under the age of 9, two who are neuro- diverse, and motherhood in general is hard! To quote my mom, “It is the hardest job you’ll ever love.”

I had to remind my son the other day, “I am for you. You are MY son, and I am on YOUR side.” I said it with a bit of intensity because it had been one-too many tattle-tales from the same child. One who is quick to blame Garrett, and never takes responsibility for their part. I had had enough. I respectfully acknowledged the complaint, addressed the behavior and what needs to stop or start. But after, when it was just us, I made sure he knew I was for him.

And I will make sure to offer myself the same reassurance. Because my God is always with me, and He is always for me. He gives me the grace to forgive myself, and the strength to try again. He sees me. He knows my struggle. He sees my children, and He knows all of our weaknesses. And when the voices in my head start chiming, whether it be from others, or my own, I will remember- “If God is for us, who can ever be against us?” Romans 8:31. And all of Romans 8 for that matter because this entire passage of scripture reminds us that there is no condemnation for those who belong to Jesus Christ. It reminds us that Jesus frees us from the power of sin, and His Holy Spirit affirms who we are as children of God. That HE helps us in our weakness and helps us to pray and that NOTHING can separate us from HIS love. And when I am feeling hopeless, and do not have the strength to try again, I can remember HIS perfect love for us and how many times he stood back up with that cross on his back- for us. And there is no amount of fatigue that God’s love can’t conquer.

Grace in the weeds.

The first time I heard the expression, “In the weeds” was in reference to a server at a restaurant being completely overwhelmed with orders and people. When I became a mother, I thought of this expression often and soon the idea of being “out of the weeds” was a mere illusion.

My brain now contains so many “in the weeds” memories, I cannot keep track. Like the time I was changing the dirty diaper of one squirming child, while the other figured out how to unlock the door and escape the apartment. Or, when my husband was out of town and during bedtime one child FINALLY fell asleep and immediately the other one started repeatedly yelling at the top of their lungs, “MOM! Come wipe me!”

Then there was that one time that our middle son came down with the stomach bug, followed by my husband two hours later, then, myself and then the other two children until all 5 of us were fighting over the 1 bathroom.

We all have our own “in the weeds” experiences, don’t we? Lately, our family’s experiences have had more to do with physical and emotional capacity for one another; Or rather, lack thereof.

When life hits you from multiple angles simultaneously, it can feel so much like you are “in the weeds” that in fact, you are drowning under them. Emotionally it becomes difficult to support one another when you are all treading water. The past couple years our family has experienced so much transition, loss, and change that supporting one another while we are all weary has often felt impossible. And to make it even more interesting, the 5 of us have had totally different experiences from one another! Take these pictures for example, all 5 of us physically in the same place, yet emotionally experiencing completely different things. It can feel divisive when one of you is feeling joy or excitement and the other… not so much.

When we told the kids we were moving back to Florida, Gracelyn had actual tears of joy while Garrett had tears of sadness. And BOTH of their reactions were right, justifiable and OK. Similar to our first couple months in NY after leaving India, I was experiencing joyful family reunion while my husband was processing the end of a dream.

Personal preferences, past experiences and even genetic makeup can create for these differences in experiences from person to person. But however explainable, it still doesn’t make it easy. However, it does help to recognize when you, yourself are in the weeds. It helps to identify it-because when you do, you can share that with your loved ones, and this gives them the ability to offer you grace.

11 years into marriage and we are definitely still working on our communication skills. But this one- this “grace in the weeds” practice has been priceless.

Here is the part where I lift up my hubby.

He was ready to move overseas in our first year of marriage. 9 years later we went. How did he wait this long? Grace.

He knew I was in the weeds. In the weeds of motherhood. In the weeds of moving to another state while 8 months pregnant. In the weeds of identifying and managing my anxiety. In the weeds of life! How did he know I was in the weeds? Besides the obvious. I told him. I told him I was struggling. I apologized for ways I projected my frustrations on others. I asked for grace while I leaned into the Lord and asked HIM to carry my burdens, change my heart and give me the strength to do the things I needed to do.

It is hard to ask for grace, if you don’t believe you need it. And if you don’t believe you need it, you might be missing out on the ways that you can grow as a person. This might not be the case with everyone, but it was for our family.

I am sure that in our last couple months in India, I was not at my best. Little did I know that I had been taking a placebo instead of actual anxiety medication, but even so, my head was not where it needed to be for my family, for the people I love. But, my husband gave me grace, upon grace, upon grace. He was able to do so because he has seen me at my best and my worst and because he constantly checks in with me and asks me how I am doing. And I tell him my truths because I trust him with them.

When we returned from overseas, I was able to extend the same grace to him as he took time to process unchartered waters. Because I too have a mental log of him at his best and his worst. I too ask him how he is, and he trusts me with his truths.

Walking through the weeds with someone can be painful. Long-suffering may be reality. Mental logs of your loved ones at their best and worst can be helpful forms of measuring tape and asking questions and being honest are crucial. But grace….true grace comes from Jesus.

The truth is- we love our people. We love our loved ones, and when it comes down to it we would probably jump in front of a bus for them.

But when our loved ones get ornery, cranky, selfish or unkind, it can be hard……so very hard. Don’t pretend like you don’t know…. you do. Those moments when your person is behaving in a way that hurts, and you want to set them straight. And sometimes you do. And other times, you stop and take a breath, and realize that their behavior is just the pain talking. The pain inside that no one else can see. So instead of setting them straight, you give them space and love them anyway.

A few verses keep circling in my head as I write this blog.

“As the Scriptures say, ‘No one is righteous— not even one.'” Romans 3:10

“Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is perfected in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly in my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest on me. That is why, for the sake of Christ, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.” 2 Corinthians 12

“But He gives more grace. Therefore it says, ‘God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble.'” James 4:6

There are many reasons that I love Jesus. Today, one of the main reasons is this, without HIM, I would not have seen my sin. Without HIM, I would not have redemption. Without Him, I would not be able to receive grace, nor offer it.

No one is perfect, but it can be hard to see your sin, when you are a pretty good person. You can look to the left and look to the right all day, and see yourself as doing a pretty good job. Until the day you do something, behave a certain way, or even feel a certain way that you never thought you would, let alone could. The day you realize you are a sinner, is the day you are truly capable of love.

When you can see your own faults, you can ask for help, and ask for grace. And when you have had to ask for grace or forgiveness yourself, then when it is YOUR time to offer it to someone else, you have a mental log of what it felt like to receive forgiveness or grace when you did not deserve it. Then, you too can offer it as well.

Grace in the weeds.

I love my people.

We are all sinners.

I can’t imagine a life without forgiveness.

I started writing this blog because our family just moved after living 8+ months in my parents house. My parents are amazing. Their generosity and hospitality and Pete the Cat mentality are incredible. But everytime I spoke with someone about our current circumstances, they asked me how my husband was doing. Because, let’s be real- any spouse living in their in-laws house for an extended period of time deserves grace right?

Well, my hubby did it for a very long time. He had his ups and downs, but I am so grateful for him. He loves my parents, me and our children so well. He knows when we are a healthy family unit, and when we need help for our family unit to thrive.

I love you Adam.

Thank you.

The mirage of “Arriving.”

I have heard the expression, “I have arrived!” It was said to announce not a physical arrival to a destination but a metaphorical arrival. I have held dreams of this kind of “arriving” or success. Along the way I learned that,

“Success is not always in the outcome, but in the attempt.”

Hmmmm. Thought provoking, right? Who was the author of this enlightening thought you ask? Well, I can tell you.

Sometime in late 2013, early 2014, I was determined that I would overcome SOMETHING. ANYTHING! I was so tired of being a prisoner to my weaknesses and always talking about the same struggles day in and day out. It felt like finding joy in motherhood, being able to exercise again and having a “faith big enough to move overseas for” were simply goals that I could not reach. My mind told me that these goals were possible for others, just not me. If you have been reading my blog, than you have heard me express my battle with anxiety. At this time in my life, I was in denial that what I was struggling with had anything to do with anxiety. I believed it was truly just a result of my weakness.

Daily I felt that I was failing to achieve any goal I set for myself. I could rehearse all of life’s pains and struggles as if they were still raw and fresh. And I would rehearse them. At least my brain couldn’t stop remembering all those painful experiences and was convincing me that the idea of giving things another try was being a glutton for punishment. I wrestled with tasks as small as encouraging myself to get out of the apartment with two kids solo, to big ideas like just wanting to be a fully functional stay at home mom. Ya know, the kind that managing the home and children comes natural too. The kind without grumbling, no stress… just joy. Because after all, I chose it. And I assumed, if you choose it, you should love it. And be good at it, right? I also battled with questions like, how come I want to be a happy mom, but I can’t? How come I want to exercise, but I can’t? I was a former strength and conditioning coach and now every time I exercised I would end up with severe spasms in my neck and back so debilitating that I could not move for days. So when it came down to choosing between caring for my toddler and baby or giving exercise another shot, the decision was made for me.

Most of all, I asked myself, why can’t I just be fearless? What happened to the girl who studied abroad in Australia? The girl who travelled New Zealand solo? The wife who chose to spend her first wedding anniversary on a medical mission trip to Africa? Now, the mere topic of living overseas brought panic attacks. At the time, I did not know they were panic attacks. I did not know my body was having a physiological reaction to fear. And I did not know that my fears of living overseas were being manipulated by media and body chemistry.

photo from our 1st anniversary in Ethiopia.

My husband and I worked for a non-profit sports ministry with future hopes of moving and serving overseas. At one point in our journey I decided enough is enough. I was going to wrestle fear by the horns. I was going to say yes. Let’s move to India. Funny how in the movies there is sweat and a punching bag and usually a great soundtrack when a character overcomes something. For me, I just got more back spasms, and actual asthma attacks.

Now before you stop reading and think, this is the most depressing blog ever, hear me. As discouraged as I was, I still wrote the quote that I started out with. “Success is not in the outcome, but in the attempt.” I even shared it in a room full of people during three separate speaking opportunities. And to be honest, the more I told myself, and others, the more hope and life I breathed in and the more lies and discouragement I exhaled. Because the success IS in the attempt. The success is when you keep trying, even when it’s hard and you have failed.

You ARE successful, when you don’t give up on hope.

I used to think success was only when you “arrived” at your goal. For me, I had to look deeper at the goals I was setting for myself. I was setting goals, making expectations for myself that I believed if I just tried hard enough, I could achieve. For example, if I did all of my physical therapy exercises my neck and back would heal. If I strength trained enough the “right way” I would return to the athlete I was. If I prayed hard enough, I wouldn’t be afraid of moving overseas. If I read enough parenting resources, I would feel competent and in control as a mom. I believed I would truly feel success and peace when I reached these resolutions in my life.

Fast forward to today, June 2020. I can exercise now without ending up in spasms! I am still the mom of 3 littles ones that I love dearly but challenge me daily. I moved to India… and I moved back.

I can still remember the day I dreamed about being able to exercise again, like I do now. I can still remember how it felt to dream of one day not being afraid to move overseas, like I did. And I can still feel the ache in my heart over the days that I grieved over not feeling the way I thought a mom or wife should feel. But, I had no idea that “reaching my goals” would happen the way it did. It was not the result of “muscling” through. It was a gradual process of surrender. A process of surrender that brought me to a place of willingness. Willingness to try another way, to see things from a different perspective, to humble myself, and to trust the Lord deeper than I ever had before.

In 2016 I started treating my anxiety with medicine and counseling. The year that followed brought healing, grace, forgiveness and deliverance. One day, I was not afraid to exercise. And after I did, I waited for the spasms. They never came. So I exercised again the next day. No spasms!

It started small. But those small steps were the biggest wins I had ever experienced. I had started going out SOLO on adventures with my 3 kiddos. Joy, redemption and excitement were some of the emotions I experienced that I never thought I would!

And then one day, after a time of serious reflection, I was able to look back on our then 6 years of marriage and say, I think it is time for our family to move overseas. I shared with others how through managing my anxiety, I was able to see life SO much more clearly. It was as if my brain had more space to see all of my memories, not just the painful ones. I felt like I was feeling all the emotions, not just the anxious and stressful ones. And I could see the Lord’s hand over my life, over our lives and I could see the story HE had been weaving the whole time and I wanted to continue to be a part of it! I wish I could share every detail, person, lesson, moment, prayer and guidance that I experienced that all played such a significant role in these victories. It was not just the diagnosis, the medicine and the counseling. It was all of it. The life I had lived, the life I wanted to live and the grace to live it.

I used to think that the day I was “fit” again was going to be the day that “I arrived” at my goal. That the day I moved overseas would be the day that I truly overcame my fears. I know now that “arriving” is like a mirage.

I made it overseas. However, we thought we would live there for at least 3 years but we came back in 9 months. I am exercising again, but I am not and may never be the athlete I once was. I LOVE my kiddos and I am happy to be a stay at home mom and I go on a lot of adventures with them! Sometimes the hardest adventures are the days that we stay home!! At times I still find myself discouraged, and unhappy, but I live more now in the freedom of grace! I do not hold myself to the standard of those illusions I had set out for myself before.

When 9 months into our long-term move overseas ended, and we found ourselves selling all of our furniture and packing up our bags once more, we knew grieving would come but our minds were fixed on the reason for leaving. There were many reasons, but the most pressing reason was Jackson. We knew his hearing loss had progressed even further and now to the point of needing cochlear implants. We knew we needed to get back to the U.S to get the care he needed. We decided to bypass Florida and come straight to upstate NY to be with family. We were in need of support. But of course, as with most plans, we had no idea that our expectations for rushing back to the US to receive care for our son would play out like they did.

Month after month, we waited for doctor’s appointments and answers. Not only did things get more gray in what was to happen for Jackson, but then COVID-19. Every step we took to move forward and make sense of the past few years of our life, to understand what we were supposed to do now, was left unanswered. And the day I realized that we had been living with my parents in upstate NY for the same length of time we lived in India, I felt lost. I could not make sense of it all. I was losing hope that we would ever know how to find the best care for Jackson, where to live, where to work, or even who we were as a family going forward.

I was stuck in a mirage. The mirage that when we arrived back to the US, everything would be OK. That Jackson would get cochlear implants and we would find a home down the street from my parents, the kids would go to school with their cousins, and our family would have all the family support we needed. And the feelings of pain and sorrow from leaving India and ending a dream that was sought after for years would all fade because the reasons that we left would make up for it.

BUT, recognizing the mirage allowed for me to see all the REAL, tangible blessings around us!! Blessings that we would not have experienced if it hadn’t been for this season of unknown. Because of unanswered questions, because of the Coronavirus, because of time, we received support, love, healing, pruning, gut-checking, re-evaluating, and precious moments with family that you wish you could freeze in time.

Life is still messy, but we have finally received some answers and direction. We have found such great care for Jackson back in Florida with his audiologist and the team there that we have decided to move back to Florida. Jackson will be receiving his first cochlear implant maybe as early as September, but we continue to wait for those answers. We are relieved and grateful and feel such peace with this decision. However, it will not become another mirage. Once we “arrive” in Florida, everything won’t be perfect. Life will never be perfect on this side of heaven.

I have my eyes fixed on the author and perfecter of my faith, Jesus Christ. I walk in grace knowing that the success is not in the outcome, but in the attempt. It’s not about the destination but the journey. It’s not about where you are going, but WHO you are walking with. The victory is walking by faith and trusting in HE who is worthy to be trusted, to bring HIM glory and to hope that one day, He will say, “Well done, my good and faithful servant.” Matthew 25:21

Mommy-ing with Anxiety And Oils.

Heather Braucher 

I had a flashback the other day. Oddly enough, I have this one a lot. It was back to a time when my 3 kids were 5 and under and every other week my husband had to travel  3-4 days for work. My oldest had begun pre-school (late birthday) and I spent most days at home with the two boys. As much as my daughter loved her pre-school, and I was grateful for having one less child’s needs to juggle, I DID NOT enjoy the 7 straight months of various sickness that followed.

Ear infections, flu, stomach bugs, bronchitis, pneumonia, and hand, foot and mouth disease all cycled through our family of five and the pediatrician’s consistent reasoning for this crippling season of chronic sickness- pre-school. It was very hard for me to accept that simply because my oldest was hanging out in a classroom for 5 hours a day, that our entire family’s immune system was shot. And the day that I found myself hurling with the stomach bug AND coughing at the same time due to my active case of pneumonia, I knew that something had to change.

Now let’s flash even further back to high school. In those days, I was a dedicated athlete. I loved training, and seeing progress. I went on to play field hockey in college with hopes of becoming a sport psychologist. I loved the passion, mental perseverance and discipline that sports and fitness desired from an individual. I wanted to be a part of helping people overcome obstacles in their way of reaching their full potential. I earned my B.S in Psychology and Sports Coaching and my M.S in Exercise Science. I had the privilege of working as a high school field hockey coach, a college field hockey coach, a sports performance coach at Velocity Sports Performance and PerformFit, a personal fitness trainer, a group fitness trainer, and even a strength and conditioning coach for athletes and teams. 

Around the 5th year of my career, just when I began to feel the part, an old college neck and back injury reared its ugly head. My ability to train others and myself began to dwindle and my career felt like it was ending just when it was taking off. Interestingly enough, my personal faith crossed paths with my professional journey and the intersection brought me from a job in sports performance to a job in sports ministry. In hindsight, the transition made perfect sense. I was drawn to the psychological element of training people, this explained why when I trained clients, it often felt a lot more like a counseling session.  

6 years later, married with 3 children, our family transitioned into a career in the field of world missions. We partnered with a global sports company and moved to South Asia. Now before you get the wrong idea, and imagine I am this devout Christian who is peaceful, pious, fit and psychologically sound, hear me…

It was exactly 11 months and 29 days postpartum after my 3rd child that I walked into my OB and said “I think I have postpartum depression and anxiety.” I am almost positive that my confession was probably 3 years late, but even so, thank God. My life would be forever changed by that day. Following that OB appointment came diagnosis, prescription and counseling. These tools provided me with understanding, proper brain chemistry, and coping skills.  With my counselor, I walked through stages of my life that left memories, regrets, pain and fears trapped in my brain and my body. And I mean, literally trapped in my body. You heard my background. I was an athlete, a fitness trainer. But at this point in my life it had been 3 to 4 years since I was able to exercise at all without ending up with debilitating back spasms. I was angry and overwhelmed ALL of the time. The freedom from recognizing and treating my anxiety allowed me to begin experiencing breath, life, and victory in areas where anxiety held me captive.

And the Lord did not stop there. It was then that I was introduced to the world of Essential Oils. Like I said, we had experienced chronic illness in our family for an extended period of time. Over the counter medications and antibiotics had become all too familiar in our daily routine. Prescription medicine was imperative in some areas of health, but even so, I was desperate for healing inside and out. I wanted the same thing for my family. My best friend shared some of the Young Living essential oil products that had a tremendous impact on her family. Essential oil blends like Stress Away, Valor, Vetiver and Peace and Calming became my secret weapons. And not just for me, but for my kids!

At the same time, it was also becoming evident our middle son was battling SPD/ADHD. Being too early for medication and diagnosis, oils like vetiver became instrumental in assisting his body chemistry. Over the next couple years all 3 kids began school and the EO’S that support our immune system were crucial in the game of “which sickness will they come home with next?” The products, education and community that Young Living offered provided my family with physical and emotional support. It also provided me with an outlet! As a stay at home mom, I found solace, as well as an avenue for utilizing my gifts. I loved creating roller blends and DIY gifts for friends and family. I loved being able to create something that I would later be able to offer my children when they needed help settling down, focusing, or even falling asleep. 

When I reflect on my background, it makes sense why I am passionate about health, wellness and fitness. When I think about my body chemistry and family dynamic, it affirms my need for emotional support. But My God continues to weave my life into a story. He continues to affirm that no matter what season of life, whatever strength or weakness, whichever state or country, He sees me, He knows my yesterday and tomorrow and he is not done with me yet. He plans to use me for good. Be it through, motherhood, health, fitness, ministry, or natural living, I plan to be useful, to share my struggles and victories with others, and to be there for those seeking victory too.

Numbers

The other day I noticed something, it was a gift that I had sent to my parents shortly before we left for India. A pillow with the words “Sending hugs from Gracelyn, Garrett and Jackson from 7,854 miles away.”

It’s been 4 months and 16 days since we arrived here in upstate NY.

6 weeks since schools closed and we returned to homeschooling.

The kids experienced 3 months of public school here in upstate NY before the COVID-19 lockdown.

We spent 1 month in Malaysia before we arrived in NY. We moved every 5 days to a new AirBNB.

Before that it was 1 month in Indonesia, 2 weeks in hotels, and 2 weeks in 3 different homes.

But first it was one month in Thailand in 3 different home-stays that preceded our time in Indonesia.

6 months in India before that, with 5 of those weeks in a hotel.

3 years in Florida leading up to all of this.

6 years in Northern Virginia before Florida.

Today, I have a family of 5 in upstate, NY.

Adam and I are in our late 30’s.

We have an 8, 6 and 4 year old.

Jackson is on the cusp of the number that determines he has Severe hearing loss.

Numbers…….

Each day we watch the numbers rise and fall.

Numbers of COVID-19 cases. Numbers of deaths. Numbers of survivors. Numbers of dollars that move up and down for various reasons.

One number never changes.

ONE TRUE GOD.

Malaysia

So we are not in Nepal! Not sure if you all caught that at the end of the last blog. We rerouted from Indonesia to Malaysia on November 11th. Our plans changed for several reasons.

Our last week in Indonesia was pretty tough. We were all travel exhausted and the effects of constant transition were taking its toll on our family. I was down for the count, knocked out by something that we thought was dengue. Two blood tests later and I still do not know what I had, but the kids caught a version of it as well.

Picture this:

Hottest week to record in history in Makasar, Indonesia. Constant fevers making it impossible to leave the air conditioned bedroom of the house that we were staying in, that just happened to be located directly next to a mosque who blasted the call to prayer over a megaphone 5 times a day.

Talk about being in a dark spot.

More significantly, Jackson had a noticeable decline in hearing again so we knew we needed to get his hearing tested sooner than waiting until we returned to Thailand in December.

So we booked flights to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia and checked into an airbnb which later would become 1 of 5 Airbnb’s over the course of our stay in KL. Oh yea, before getting to KL we had already stayed in 9 hotel/houses in 2 months time.

We knew that we would be living nomadic for our 3 month forced exit from India, but we averaged a new place every 5 days. Can you feel my pain????

On the bright side, we knew we were making the right decision for our family and we had an ABR (sedated hearing test) scheduled for Jackson at Gleneagles Hospital 2 days after arrival.

Garrett, Gracelyn and myself also had checkups and walked away with 3 prescriptions each. How does Adam avoid this? I think someone needs to create a vaccine from his DNA.

We spent the first 4 days in KL returning to the hospital. Ill explain why in a bit.

But we also spent our time in Malaysia walking through Chinatown to the Pavillion Mall, taking grab cars to Suria KLCC mall and outdoor playground, visiting the Petrosains twin towers, eating donuts, visiting indoor playgrounds, going to the movies and seeing all of the christmas decorations up all over town.

Not sure if I am the only one who has noticed. But it seems everywhere we have gone around the world, marvel characters seem to be there!

Thanksgiving came during our time in Malaysia. At first I did not want to celebrate. Too many expectations to meet or let down during such a transient time. But we made some friends back in Indonesia that happened to be in KL and they invited us to join them! I never expected to celebrate Thanksgiving, and see Christmas decorations everywhere here in Malaysia, but I was grateful for both.

Well, as for the results of Jackson’s hearing test, little did we know our small re-route from Nepal to Malaysia would bring about a major re-route by the end of the month.

We had suspected a decline in jacksons hearing but we didn’t know how significant. Jackson’s hearing is now at a severe hearing loss level. This makes 4 declines total in his 4 years of life.

At this point we have been told that it is time to consider cochlear implants.

Back when Jackson first received his hearing aids we attended a support group for families of children with hearing loss. Many of the children in the group that were Jackson’s age already had cochlear implants. A representative from cochlear came and spoke to the group. I felt compelled to ask questions and take notes, as if this was an inevitable part of our future.

When we found out Jackson has Ushers Syndrome type 2, we were told to check his hearing every 3 months due to his rate of decline, even though ushers type 2 is not typical of progressive decline.

I just had a feeling we were headed this way.

With Ushers there is inevitable vision loss at varying degrees making it even more important to stabilize hearing.

So here we are now, almost 1 year since he received his hearing aids and we find ourselves spending the majority of our time scrolling websites about cochlear implants and discussing possibilities for surgery.

After considerable research and counsel from his audiologist in orlando, we know now that he is a candidate for cochlear implants, that he has maxed out his current hearing aid capability, that his hearing has declined roughly every 3-6 months and dropping and that the window for speech and language development is closing rapidly. Because of this, after great prayer we have decided it is time to return to the U.S and begin the process of pursuing cochlear implants.

Before we left for India we knew that he had hearing loss caused by Usher’s syndrome. At the time, we felt that we had everything we needed to care for him well even in india. We did not expect two declines in hearing while overseas.

It is clear now that we do not have all we need to care for him and our family unit well and thus we will be headed to upstate NY where my extended family is while we pursue cochlear implants for Jackson. During this time we will wait on the Lord to guide our next steps.

Being rerouted is hard. Having to wait is hard. Not understanding is hard. And trying to make sense of it all is exhausting.

Our journey has been one with setbacks and times of riding the wave, it has held changes in plans, open doors and closed ones.

Through it all we have tried to rest in the things we know to be true. The things true of ourselves, our needs, our abilities and limitations. Things we know to be true for the season we are in. And always the truth of who Jesus is and who we are as believers and followers of Christ. He is good, faithful and sovereign, no matter what. “He is our refuge and our strength, an ever present help in times of trouble.” Psalm 46:1

It is not our circumstances that makes this true, it’s the calm we experience in the presence of our circumstances. The calm that only comes from the Holy Spirit. The “peace that transcends all understanding.”

And with that, all we can do is the next right thing.

Yes, you heard me. I just quoted Anna from Frozen 2. But in all fairness, we saw the movie twice while here in KL and those songs are now engrained in my mind. And confess, I may have teared up during that scene.

So the next right thing for us looks like heading back to India, packing our bags and heading to the US.

Please pray for our family as we try to repack and transition once more.

A Teeter Totter week.

“But let him ask in faith, with no doubting, for the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea that is driven and tossed by the wind.” James 1:6

Up.

And down.

Up.

And down.

That was this week. At least it was not like a merry-go-round. Although, my stomach would disagree.

Started with a great yoga class monday afternoon. My foreword bend is getting so much better and I felt like I nailed the Surya Namaskar. Feeling confident and limber, I was excited for a good week. We also made the decision to remove gluten from our diets. With Sensory Processing Disorder, Anxiety and potentially ADHD in the mix amongst our family members, it was time to test the correlation between gluten and hyperactivity. And then Garrett came down with the stomach bug.

But it’s OK! He only threw up twice in the night and we only had to wash 3 sheets!

And I had a girl date with my friend! We went to Old City which is this incredible piece of history. We strolled through the market, through a sea of colors and textiles and block prints and vendors shouting phrases that I am certain are in the Aladdin movie. I was on the hunt for “choodiyaan”, aka bangles. Married women here wear bangles as a representation that they are married, and I have not been wearing any! No wonder the tuk-tuk driver asked.

I was excited to find my first pair of bangles and first pair of Rajasthani flats. I also came with an extra dose of humility because I was well aware that most of the bangles probably would not fit over my wrist, nor flats on my feet. So when looking I joyfully shouted “Badi”, aka big when asked for my size. I was successful with the bangles! Not so much for the flats. And I found an incredible bag to boot. At least I can live vicariously through Gracelyn’s flats.

Gracelyn was making great progress with her 6 medicines that the ENT ordered. Probably because I gave her chocolate baking morsels from the states after every medicine. And that’s Antibiotic, Steroid, Probiotic, Allergy, and two nasal sprays. After a long previous week of sickness, I had taken her to the ENT over the weekend. We discovered that she is allergic to the dust here. So allergic that her adenoids were incredibly swollen and her ear drum was at risk of rupturing. They even sent us to x-ray to check on her adenoids! overwhelmed once again by sickness and medicine, it was imperative that I remember to be grateful for the medical care and and ask friends to pray for her healing. That and to diffuse Young Living Thieves and Purification of course.Also, A few of you have asked about healthcare here. I am pumped to share that after each visit, I pay cash!!! No insurance company, no explanation of benefits, not calling to appeal a service not covered!!! So amazing, in fact, I will show a picture of the receipts and little folders we get to take home from each visit.

The ups and downs are so frequent, they blur together. Wednesday morning I awoke so sick to my stomach that it knocked me out for three days. And when I recovered, Adam went down. What a great week to be gluten free huh? Friends, I don’t know how we managed to maintain it, but somehow the kids made it through the week with two sick parents and nothing but eggs, hard-boiled eggs, rice, nuts, fruit and vegetables to eat. It wasn’t until Saturday that we found a meat guy and figured out how to get chicken delivered to our door! New favorite foods for the kids equal raisins, oatmeal with swirls of nutella, cashews and potato chips. We have lots to learn in this gluten-free journey. At the end of an exhausting week we were not even sure if it was worth it. And then we let them have pancakes. And that was it. After witnessing an obvious impact from the gluten, I decided to head to the store and get creative. I learned how to make Rice flour Roti, and Quinoa cheese and veggie bites. Who knew it would take me to move to India to learn how to up my culinary repertoire. I even learned how to make homemade sweet lime soda. But, ended up using the instant version instead. But hands down my favorite item is good 0ld-fashioned gatorade. With temps of 109 and 110 this week, we have depended on gatorade for survival.

I ended the week on an up. To give Adam some rest, I decided to take the kids to the local mall because it has an indoor play area where they could shed some energy since they were cooped up all week due to the heat and two incapacitated parents. Unbeknownst to me, there was a marvel meet and greet event! It was awesome. Ironman, Spiderman, BumbleBee, all dancing on stage and the kids got to join them. Epic.

Went out to a new shop with a friend, found a new Kurta dress and……. drumroll……. Meters of material! I shared in an earlier post that I am intimidated by the common purchase of meters of material to turn into a three piece suit or a saree. Still intimated by the saree, so that is yet to come. But I did find some incredible material to take to a tailor to make into a dress! I will share the final product after it is made!

The teeter totter ended up. Grateful to end the week on the up and up. Nothing like falling sick, and people you love falling sick to make you homesick. I have missed my family and my friends greatly this week. I have missed their voices, the smell of the fresh air in NY, the green grass and the blue sky. I have missed deli sandwiches with turkey! I have missed friends from all phases of my life, apartments we used to live in, and the ability to be able to be with the ones I love in an instant for sickness, for births, for celebrations. But I am grateful that I have so many ways to connect, and so many wonderful pictures to look at and reminisce.

The battle for wifi. Week 6.

“For indeed in this house we groan, longing to be clothed with our dwelling from heaven.” 2 Corinthians 5:2

It has been a week. We have seen several appointments for wifi installation come and go. A cultural lesson I am sure.

When the Wifi guy or the Ac repair man says, I will be there tomorrow at noon, it is common that he may come early, he may come late or not at all. There is also no voicemail service here on cellphones, so people just make missed calls frequently. And if you are calling a service number, you are most likely to get a recording. Now add the language barrier in there and you have the perfect recipe for extreme frustration. Especially when the two items you need help with are your air conditioning and your internet.

Needless to say, that would have been all I remembered about week six had I not been taking down weekly notes!

So here were the victories this week! Our washing machine, stove and microwave/convection oven were all installed this week. A working kitchen! I unpacked the last suitcase and we stored all of the suitcases out of sight. Officially moved in. Our house helper started this week helping with washing the floors and bathrooms as is custom here. We started language school two hours a day in the morning to learn Hindi AND we started homeschooling the kids!

Unfortunately the boys came down with respiratory, pinkeye and ear infections. But we had some laughs this week too. To conserve water, it is common to take bucket baths. The boys have enjoyed them, filling the bucket up with water and dumping it over their heads. Well, Jackson must have really been under the weather because he decided to crawl in the bucket, where he proceeded to get stuck, butt in, feet dangling out, and asleep! A sight I have never seen before for sure.

Also this week I had several errands to run which forced me to take 5 different Uber car rides. This was a victory for me because I never enjoy riding an Uber solo because it always caused me great fear. Maybe I was high on productivity, or maybe it was my YL Valor that brought me such great confidence and motivation, either way I was feeling proud.

As the last Uber pulled up to take me home, I had a handful of items such as a toddler bathtub, cleaning supplies and cups etc. The Uber driver got out of the car to load my items in the trunk and accidentally locked us out of his car while it was still running! Not only that, but he blocked the other cars in to their parking spots.

Thirty minutes later, after he made several phone calls to receive help unlocking his car, the man he blocked in decided to use his own car key to see if it would unlock his car. To all of our shock, IT DID! ONLY INDIA!

well, after all that excitement I was excited to relax. It was our first weekend in our new home and we were ecstatic about just lounging and enjoying finally being settled. And guess what? The internet guy came! AND the AC got repaired. We watched netflix and slept in a cool room.

BLISS.

As for Kurtas this week. The only story I have is still pending. Since we got our washer installed, I have been able to wash my own laundry. The only downside on this, is when we lived in the hotel, we had to send our laundry out and when it came back, it had also been pressed! Now that I am washing my own clothes, air drying Kurtas on my front porch does not help the wrinkles. So I decided to utilize the presswala service that the LandLord gave to me. Again, this is very common culturally to have clothes, especially Indian dress sent to the presswala, who is usually employed at the corner of the street in a neighborhood and handles all the local pressing for that community.

Well, I have not seen my Kurtas since I sent them out…..

I will let you know the end to this story when I find out. Fingers crossed, I hope to see my Kurtas again!

Watch out, the Braucher’s are moving in. Week 5.

“…And have put on the new self who is being renewed to a true knowledge according to the image of the One who created him-..” Colossians 3:10

Week 5. Monday.

The A/C units have been installed, walls have been painted and flat has been cleaned. It is time for us to to load our 15+ suitcases into a couple ubers and move in!

Here in Jaipur, India, the three things that are necessary for move in are cleaning, A/C and R.O. Most places are very dirty and the cleaning is up to you. Call it mercy, but the LandLord of our new flat had it done for us!

The A/C units were installed and thank the Lord because the temperature was already in the 100’s. An R.O machine is a device that uses reverse osmosis to filter the tap water to make it safe to drink. Since we had been buying our water daily, this was a provision we were “pumped” to have in our home.

Our furniture was to be delivered as well as appliances. However, there were still many houseware and kitchenware items remaining to be found. I was so excited to see our furniture arrive as I had spent multiple outings visiting the local stores with the help of others who have lived here for years.

The furniture available was made from beautiful, handcrafted wood and marble. I had to find what would suit our family while navigating the conversion from rupees to USD. I also had to find items that were functional for our kids. The days are HOTT, and we need space for homeschool and indoor play.

I wish I had a photo of the 6 Indian men who delivered and assembled the bunk bed for the boys. It did not arrive until after 8pm and my children were wired and ready to be put to sleep so I was a little flustered at the hour. However, these men worked together like a well-oiled machine and had that bed assembled so quickly!

After all of the furniture was delivered the following day, it was time to pay. These are moments when we wish we already knew Hindi. We have often phoned a friend to interpret, and then hoped that nothing was lost in translation.

Marble is a natural resource here so you will find it everywhere. Marble is not my friend. When you have three loud children, the echo is deafening, and beware if you drop anything glass or ceramic it will shatter. So having furniture was not only necessary, but the combined effect of objects and carpets FINALLY removed the echo! My ears rejoiced. We had made a home, and IT WAS good.

It was time for me to head and find bedsheets, bath towels, dish and cookware, toiletries and cleaning supplies. I was referred to a store in the local mall called Lifestyle as well as a store back in the town where our hotel was, about 20 minutes away called Big Bazaar.

I started at Lifestyle. I went on my own. How hard could it be? Little did I know this would be how I would have my first anxiety attack since entering India. On the bright side, it took 5 weeks! And I did walk away with all that I needed, as well as a cultural lesson. Nothing bad happened, I just was not prepared. As I mentioned in an earlier post, it is very common for at least 2-3 employees to step forward to assist their customer, especially a foreigner. In fact, they will get into trouble by their superior if they do not.

I was not prepared for 3 to turn into 7 employees, and for assistance to turn into decisions made for me. The next thing I knew I was at the checkout lane and all eyes were on me as the total was adding up on the register and I was approaching the ruppees amount to win a free google mini. The more people focusing on me, the smaller I felt. I felt like I was outside my body watching. It was all I could do to keep myself standing upright and not panic. All I came for was bedsheets, dishes and towels. And I felt like the main event.

To make matters worse, we do not own a car yet, so two boys escorted me outside to a tuk tuk carrying my bags for me. I insisted they put all my items in 1-2 bags that I could carry on my own, but they gave each item its own bag.

As soon as I got home, I melted in Adams arms and sobbed. I felt weighted down by feelings of insecurity, inferiority, and kept believing the lie that I was stupid and almost like a form of entertainment for others.

When I finally recovered, I was grateful to be able to rest and to use my YL oils such as grounding, white Angelica and peace and calming. Having the oils on hand has helped me feel like I can actually Do something, when control is actually out of my hands.

Like I said, nothing bad happened. And as an American in India, it is expected to draw attention. But when attention is taken from the local shoppers, given to me and I am treated like an event of “watch how much money the American Spends,” I just wanted to cry.

But what truly helped me break free from these thoughts was when a friend reminded me of who I am. The words, “daughter of the King, God’s beloved” wrang in my ears and brought peace to my heart. Remember my identity in Christ gave me strength to dispel the culture shock and lies that came with it.

The next shopping experience I had was the opposite. So I guess I should be grateful. I wanted to make sure I got back on the horse and did not let that experience paralyze me. I brought Gracelyn with me to Big Bazaar. No unnecessary attention this time! In fact, we got our counter top gas stove, our pots and pans and a few other kitchen items. So it was a success. However, I am certain the cashier was making fun of me in hindi to his friends and tried to rob me of the discounted price on the stove. And to top it off, another customer approached me at the checkout line and said, “You can find these on amazon, much cheaper.” Thanks buddy, if only I could get on Amazon India I would. But that is another story.

So balance was reached. Too much help and too little. And now we could cook our own meals!!! Well, if I can learn how to connect and use the stove first:)

That weekend as much as we wanted to keep setting up home and get wifi installed, we had been invited to stay in a hotel with a couple other expats.

Even though it was a beautiful place to stay, it was hard to go back into a hotel after we had been living in one for a month and finally go out of it. The kids behaviors were showing us how much they needed routine and a space of their own. I also had a wicked case of heat stroke which took a couple days to recover. My YL digize and peppermint were life savers.

On Sunday when we got home, I experienced my first bout of homesickness. You know that feeling when you go away for a while, and upon returning to your home, you walk in the door and feel that, “ah, we are home” feeling? Well, that feeling was not there. It will be soon, but it was not yet. I felt like I was floating again. I needed grounding.

A friend had invited me to check out a couple shops that had clothes and houseware items such as organizational baskets, canisters, pillows, rugs etc… So I went. And not only did I find some baskets for the kids toys, but I found the section where they sell Kurtas:)

These Kurtas were more like long dresses. A cross between western and Indian wear, which is exactly how I was feeling. A mix between being a westerner who was adopting Indian ways. Now, I am not promoting retail therapy here so do not misinterpret. But I am celebrating how each Kurta holds a story for me. These Kurtas remind me of moments of struggle, and the moments of grace that come with them.

The Kurta I found was perfect.