More on Dreams... by Cammie

DREAM! LIFE'S MOST GREATEST COMMON FACTOR! IF YOU DREAM IT... YOU CAN BELIEVE IT. IF YOU BELIEVE IT... YOU CAN LIVE IT. IF YOU CAN LIVE IT... YOU CAN ACHIEVE IT. <3

Dreams... by Cammie

Hey, today I was thinking about my dreams and what they mean to me and my family. Some people believe their dreams (when they sleep) serve useful purposes. Some people dream of ideas and other life changing things to actually help them in their daily life. Also people claim they have dreamed of their future and life. Dreams take place during rapid eye movement (rem) sleep. Well, my dreams 'to me' personally have purposes that help me get through my life and being Transgender. One time I dreamed of making a wish to some magical genie that I wanted to be a girl, but after the gene had granted my wish, I was a girl but a whole other person... so i guess what some people say about dreams... that they can let people see things or understand things better in life... is true. The lord made me the way i am today because I belong on this earth - as Cammie - the Transgender little girl, to help others understand that being Transgender isn't some WACKO disease, and if someone touches me their gonna get it....NOOOOOO! of course, anybody with eyeballs sticking on their face can see that. So, all i really have to say on this post is...GOD MADE ME THIS WAY....AND I LOVE IT!!! <3

Warning... Challenges Ahead!

Cammie came home the night before last. She had a lot on her mind and had written a two page journal entry during her free-time at school (I hope it was during free time). She requested that I allow her to start blogging about her experience on this blog. It's her blog, so I readily agreed to her request. I will be posting things occasionally... but more often, Cammie will be the author. She is like me... literary expression is a huge release for her. I believe allowing her to discuss her experiences here will be both therapeutic, as well as provide valuable insight from the perspective of a child facing this uphill battle. Often times parents are blamed for "brainwashing" their child. I, personally, have been blamed by a member of my own family for doing this to Cammie because I wanted a girl (I've never wanted a girl, for the same reason that I never wanted a cat... they're bitchy. I figured, by the time she reached puberty, one of us would have to go... and I pay the rent!) What so many people fail to understand is the extreme adversity and exhausting challenge that something like this introduces into the lives of those who experience it.

On one occasion, I had worked a particularly long and emotionally heart-wrenching case of a 12 year old child suicide. The child had been incessantly tormented and bullied by his peer group. The family was obviously devastated, and the father of the child spent the majority of the night in and out of the hospital room, where he would climb in the bed, clinging to his child, and sob... completely consumed by devastation. The case was extremely difficult for me on a personal level. Before we understood Cammie's condition and made the difficult decision to embrace her identity, Cammie - too - was experiencing incessant bullying and I was consistently getting telephone calls at work from a devastated child, sobbing on the other end of the line, from the torment of the day. I felt so helpless and immediately developed a sacred connection with this family. I dearly love them and maintain a relationship with them to this day. I will never "get over" the devastating outcome and the intense emotions of that case... and I don't want to. When I reflect on that experience, I am reminded of the importance of treating others with Christlike love and compassion.

When I finally got home after more than 24 hours on the case, I was completely exhausted. I sat down next to my husband and he could tell that I was devastated. He said, "Just let it out, baby... let it out." That's all it took. The tears began to flow and before I knew it, I was sobbing in devastation. My mind was spinning. I was thinking of Cammie's challenges, I was thinking of my patient and his family, and in the forefront of my mind was the question... "Why does the world have to be so cruel to such innocence... the innocence of a child?" Later that afternoon, while I was sleeping, the children asked my husband why I had been so upset. He told them about the case and the emotional impact it had on me.

Later that evening, after I had woken up, I was sitting by myself in the kitchen eating supper. Cammie came up and sat beside me at the table. She looked at me and her head dropped. She said, in a quiet and shameful tone, "I used to think about killing myself." I was shocked. I knew that before we came to understand her condition and embrace her identity, she was extremely anxious and depressed. I never realized the extent of her thoughts or the emotional torment of her experience. Realizing the depth and magnitude of self-destructive impressions hit me like a freight train and I responded with horror, "Cammie! Why would you ever consider such a thing? Do you have any idea what that would do to me? I couldn't live without you!" She sat silent for a moment. She looked up at me and pointed to the wall, then said, "You see that wall?" (the wall in the kitchen is a very light cream) She continued, "It's kind of like if you splattered black paint all over it. You'd want to wash it off because it doesn't belong there, right?"

The analogy of her emotional experience was profound. I completely understood and felt blessed that we had educated ourselves and made the choice to embrace her identity when we did. That decision enabled her to move beyond the devastation and isolation that she felt to a new world of confidence, inner peace and happiness. I felt so thankful that I had chosen to listen to my heart. I sat for a moment in shock, then looked at Cammie and said, "No, I wouldn't wash the wall, Cammie... I'd paint over it." She looked at me as if she didn't understand... and I continued, "I'd paint the entire kitchen Hot Pink." She stood up, threw her arms around my neck, and gave me a hug. We held each other and cried. I don't think either one of us wanted to let go.

Cammie has continued to grow into a beautiful, confident and happy young woman. She is extremely verbose and expressive. This is her blog and it will offer a valuable outlet to the things that she is feeling, as well as provide valuable insight to all of you who are here to grow through understanding something as unique as her condition. Only she knows what this experience is like. So, I have chosen to add her as an author and allow her to utilize this special place as an outlet for her own experiences. I hope you will enjoy and grow from her precious words. She is not the best at spelling, but she is quite the little computer genius and good at typing! I hope you enjoy her first post...

hey,its the 4 real 4 real ,finger snappin, kitty cat nappin, sassy mouth talkin, mountain dew drinken, pinkaliscious thinken...Cammie Elaine....thank you, thank you! Hold the applose! Thank you! LOL! Hi, im Cammie. I am one of manny transgender children. I am 12 years old and have 3 brothers(pain in the"you know what im talking about"). I live in ALabama and im in the fifth grade. I love my life just not every single little thing in it. You know, like idiots who dont uderstand and wont even take the time to. When you know somebody who is transgender you know thats a hard hit in the face for them because they either think your gay, homo, quear, and half the names people say thiese days to other people i really dont know the meaning to or dont get why they call me that. Some days I think to myself and say "wow they just dont get it do they?".Its verry sad to me to hear of people who dont approve of what I say do or think, and apperently it isnt their job to dictate my life and how i live it, and beleve me i love to live it every single day. Now school in my life is a HUGE block in the road for me because if you whent to school with me 24-7 you wouldnt think bullies really bothered me, but really deap, deap, down inside it hurts. Im screaming like heack waiting for the day that god gives me the key to that verry important gate with all of the verry important wishes and requests that i really, really, really, need. I have to deal with people who are discusted by the way i talk, move, or think. I cant really do mutch about the key that god is waiting to give me rite now. Another situation, and here it comes, its a really big one, its my body. My mom told me, after we both really started getting it, she told me that when she was pregnet with me, as i was just starting to divelope, my brain stayed femaile, but my fisical gener however did not. It moved on with the maile divelopement that took place with my body. And all these years my family thought i WAS going to be homosexual or my mom thought she had a boy that wanted to be a girl....but really, she had a girl that she thought was a boy. And now i walk the streets as a girl and 3rd year running up. Im actually extreamly proud that my spirit was strong enouph, and still is, to hold the hevy box that god sent me down to this earth with. My life is sort of like an orange and apperantly everyone elces is an apple. And some times i stand so verry still and think about my self and my chalenges and how to brace myself for the upcomming ones. I understand when i get my hormones and my reconstructiv surgery that I can always get married and have a family of my own, its just addoption will always have to be an option because i wasant born with a uterus or eggs, and will never start nor have a period. That makes me sad sometimes but ive already begun to exept my situashon and i know my spirit. Even though it will take a verry long time to get were i really want to be in my life i no every wish has its verry own time limit. To me my wish actually has about 4 more years to go. It actually wont take long it will only take pashents and i truthfully dont have alot of that. Some times when im sort of fealling down in the dumps because of something, like one of my own family members from both my moms and dads side of my family said something crule about me or even think about me in a dredfull way, they should just think about this,"Wats more important, your verry own family or just the thought of what other peepol think?" It shouldnt be a supper hard question. Even though like, for instence, my brothers are treating me like poo, i always still think of them as my siblings and i love them anyways. When im all frustrated with my body or god, my mom tells me that there are people out there who actually cant even move or have relaitionships with people because its practically imposable do do so. They are stuck in a weelchair. Shes right when you think of it that way. I do have it way better and they diserve way better then they have, but its their trial and they should love them selves the way they are just like i do! Well... all i really have left to say is love who you are and be couragase and also be your self. I say dont let anyone tell you who you are ore what you should look like or act like or be, just... BE YOUR SELF!!! <3

A Mile in My Shoes... An Expression of the Heart.

♥♥♥ Cammie never hesitates to share her life and experience with others. The fire in her heart is an inspiration in my life. She's definitely got the spirit of an activist and has a passion for matters of equality. I'm proud of her courage, convictions, and passion for life. She teaches me so much, makes me laugh, and gives me an indescribable strength...

So much time has passed since we began our journey to understandig. We have come to learn and grown in unique and powerful ways. We have a testimony of what gender is, what it is not, and how it impacts life. We know that gender identity exists between the ears, and not between the legs. Everything that makes us divine, spirtual beings... those unique attributes that define who we are (character, personality, temperament, and so forth) orginate in our mind and spirit. Our physical bodies... fingers, toes, genitals, arms, legs, torso, hair and eye color, even the diseases or deformities that we may suffer - have absolutely no bearing on our identity... moreover, "WHO" we are. Above is a voice recording that Cammie made one day when she was feeling a need to express her thoughts and feelings about her life, and what it's like to be gender variant... to live with this circumstance. It touched my heart and I wanted to share it. Perhaps there people out there living with these challenges who need to know they are not alone. Maybe there are parents, friends, and family members struggling to understand... or it could be that those who visit us here are curious or intriqued, and would like to know more. There is no greater teacher than experience. Cammie gave me permission to share her private thoughts with you and the correlating pictures that captutre her life.

Cammie is eleven now. She's head strong... yet optimistic, and she continues to move forward on this unique journey with profound optimism and a humble pride (strong testimony of "self"). She has faith in the world around us. She looks for the good in others. One day, she believes people will see beyond social expectation. She believes that the imperfections in her body will become insignificant in comparison to "who" she is... the beauty of the spirit, the beauty of the mind, and spiritual conviction.

I hope that someone out there will learn something from her words. Children are innocent and pure... they almost always speak the truth. Much love to all... and may God bless each of us with each step of our spiritual journey...

Her enduring spirit is inspirational.

Matthew 11:28-30

Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light...

________________________________

Matthew 18

At that time the disciples came to Jesus, saying, “Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” And calling to him a child, he put him in the midst of them and said, “Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven...

The Courage to Make a Difference...

It's been over a year since we supported Cammie's decision to liver her life consistent with her gender identity . Cammie is growing up, but more importantly, she's growing up happy. What more could any mother hope for than that... A warm smile every day that radiates self-assurance and security. I always thought God sent his children to us so that we could teach them. So very many parents get it all wrong. They miss out on the opportunity to learn from their children. God sends his children to teach us. Each one is packaged full of opportunities for miracles in learning and spiritual growth, but if you're not paying attention, those opportunities will pass us by like feathers in the wind... what a very sad failure. I am so very thankful for the personal and spiritual growth that I have been blessed with this year... for all that I have been taught through the strength and courage that radiates from my beautiful daughter.

She is often my rock, my teacher, and my inspiration. No doubt, she is one of the greatest blessings in my life. I thank God each day for the "curse" that has become my greatest spiritual and intimate blessing. God is good... he loves us, but the moment we begin to think we know him and completely understand his will in our lives... we inevitably fall short. God wants humble children. It's our responsibility in life to learn the importance of charity and humility in our relationship with our Eternal Father. If we begin to think we understand all things... we will, inevitably, face a turbulent journey. God will teach us patience, humility, and charity. If we refuse to learn... he will continue to teach. C.S. Lewis said it best in his search for truth...

Can a mortal ask questions which God finds unanswerable? Quite easily, I should think. All nonsense questions are unanswerable. ~C.S. Lewis

The real problem is not why some pious, humble, believing people suffer, but why some do not. ~C.S. Lewis

The safest road to hell is the gradual one - the gentle slope, soft underfoot, without sudden turnings, without milestones, without signposts. ~C.S. Lewis

And my favorite of all (probably because it reflects my stubborness in spiritual obedience)...

There are two kinds of people: those who say to God, "Thy will be done," and those to whom God says, "All right, then, have it your way." ~C.S. Lewis

Cammie is such a strong, courageous, vivacious young woman... she continues to amaze me each day. A little over a year... and it's difficult to express the personal and spiritual growth. A couple of days ago, I came home to find her steadfast and focused. She was diligently writing a letter. Her poor little hands could hardly keep up with her thoughts. I asked what she was doing. Her response surprised me... "I'm writing a letter to the Jefferson County Board of Education." I continued by asking her what the letter was about. She simply said, "My rights." She finished the letter and I promised to help her mail it. I didn't read it at first because I wanted to give her the freedom to express herself freely... without parental influence. Prior to mailing the letter, I read it - then neatly addressed it and sent it off (attached below). I understand reality. Most likely, her precious words won't change a thing... at least for now, but I felt an inexplicable pride swell in my heart with the knowledge that I have been blessed with a child who has the courage to stand up for what she believes in... a child with the heart and conviction to change the world regardless of the challenges stacked against her. She has such inner strength... such courage. It's truly a beauty to behold.

Our children are the future. There's such peace in knowing that I have somehow managed to raise a child who isn't intimidated by the "status quo" or circumstances as daunting as her own. She represents the beautiful mind of a new generation. I am absolutely in love with my precious revolutionist. She, as all my children, is such an amazing gift from God. ;')

Family, the MOST sacred of all blessings... (recent family portrait link)

http://kevinrobertsphotography.zenfolio.com/christina/slideshow

My Letter...

November 5, 2010

Jefferson Board of Education
Attn: Board Members
2100 18th Street South
Birmingham, AL 35209

Dear Board Members:

My child, Cammie Johnson, is gender variant. She was born a natal male, but during fetal development, there was an insufficient testosterone level during the androgen bath to adequately form male gender identity markers in the BSTC subdivision of the gender marker cells in the pituitary gland of the brain stem... which results in children with a gender identity opposite of the gender assigned at birth. This is a profound trial for these children. Research studies show that 36% of gender variant children will attempt suicide by the age of twenty if not treated with the appropriate support which entails acknowledging that gender exists between the ears and not between the legs – then raising these children likewise. Leukemia doesn’t have mortality rates as high as the suicide risks associated with this condition. The best practices that have been published in the Medical Journal of Metabolism and Endocrinology, recommend hormone blockers at stage two of pubertal development (approximately age 12 – which pauses puberty until the age of sixteen… at which time these children can make the decision that is right for them concerning hormone replacement therapy and reconstructive surgery – also recommended in cases such as Cammie’s).

I have met several other families within the state that have gender variant children. This is not an uncommon condition, but it is seldom heard of because of social “taboos” and the pressure parents feel to force gender conformity / obedience on their gender variant child. I have been blogging about our experience with Cammie since before we allowed her to live her life consistent with her gender identity. This was a very difficult time for me and I have included a blog card in the event that you would like to learn more about us, this medical condition, and the circumstances and challenges that have impacted our lives. Additionally, there is an excellent book titled “The Transgender Child” written by Stephanie Brill – if you are interested in learning more about this.

Cammie is VERY strong with strong convictions about who she is. I came home the other day and she was writing a letter to the Jefferson County Board of Education… as she put it, “about her rights”. I haven’t read the letter, but I have supported her in expressing herself and thus am forwarding it to you. Thank you for allowing her the opportunity to express herself. Please contact her back. She needs to know that she has a voice… and regardless of individual ideals, she needs to be heard.

Kind Regards,


Christina B. Pippin

Learning to love the rain...

I have been meaning to write this post for several days. Last week it rained incessantly and I couldn't seem to shake the "blah's". My heart was heavy, burdened with some new challenges in my life. As I scurried across the street with the hope of making it to the office dry, my umbrella was blown inside out and I was pounded with a shower of wind and rain. The aggravation of the morning was compounded by the fact that my mind was weighed down with worry and concern over all of the day-to-day challenges and nuances of life, and I couldn't help but recognize the irony of the situation with a proverbial thought... "when it rains, it pours."

I made it into the building and locked myself up in my office, lay my head down on my desk, and took a deep breath. In that moment... my mind began to shuffle through the recent events in my life. An entourage of reflections paraded through my head, and I attempted to make sense of it all. I love math... and I'm very good at it. I have noticed that when I encounter an obstacle... I gather my understanding, plug it into a rhetorical "equation" for life, then focus intently on the various components in an effort to calculate the value of "E" (as in "experience").

I began to think about my life, my beautiful children, and the overwhelming challenges that we have been given. I have four children... each child is gifted and unique, and several of my children have special needs that demand an overwhelming amount of time and attention.

Cammie was 10 years old when we grew to understand "who" she is through the realization that people cannot be identified by what they look like, but rather should be embraced for "who" they are. Through that experience, we have learned that spiritual observation is much more important than social expectation. Another one of my young children was diagnosed with severe ADHD when he was six years old. Without medication, getting him dressed can be an emotionally and physically exhausting experience... an experience that parallels bull riding (except we NEVER seem to make it 8 seconds before losing our "grip"). Then, my youngest child (who began to make odd noises, clearing his throat and grunting, a couple years ago) recently began to experience additional verbal and physical "quirks" that seemed inconsistent with normal development. After exploring several possibilities, these "abnormal behaviors" were diagnosed as verbal and motor tics - consistent with a neurological chronic tic disorder known as Tourette's Syndrome. The diagnosis had been weighing on my mind as I grappled to come to terms with the unique needs that surround me... needs that frequently make me feel overwhelmed and maternally inept. As I sat there at my desk with my head buried in my arms... an experience from years ago took charge in the forefront of my mind.

I was seventeen... my best friend and I were on our way to town. We had taken great care to make sure that every hair was in place... that our make-up was perfectly applied. We must have primped for hours. We had made plans for a perfect Saturday outdoors but as we made the lengthy trip toward town, the clouds grew dark and heavy. Within minutes we were surrounded by a downpour of rain. I flew into a tantrum, completely enraged that our plans had been spoiled... my day was not going as anticipated. I pulled to the side of the road and watched the rain flood the windshield in waves as we tried to determine what to do with our new found situation. Among other things, we discussed going to a movie or going home. We sat there for a moment and quietly weighed our options. I remember that moment distinctly and the events that followed. As I sat there in my office last week and reflected on this experience, I recognized a parable, with a profound moral for many of the experiences in my life...

On that day, sitting on the side of the road in the rain, I became acutely aware of my deteriorating attitude. I love to smile and laugh... I wanted to enjoy my day. In an attempt to recover my mood, I tried to pinpoint the source of my aggravation. I began to analyze the situation...

"Why am I so upset?"

... "I'm frustrated because of the rain."

"Why am I so frustrated by the rain?"

... "Because I don't want to get wet."

Then I realized that I couldn't think of a single reason (outside of vanity) to justify the way I felt. In that moment, I looked at my friend and said, "Let's learn to love the rain."

After a brief conversation, we enthusiastically embraced the notion. Then, dressed in t-shirts, shorts, and flip-flops - without a raincoat or umbrella - we stepped out of our frustration and into one of the best days of our life. Facing the sky with our arms outstretched - we allowed the rain to soak our clothes, drench our hair, and scour the make-up from our faces. Carefree and uninhibited - we ran, danced, and splashed through puddles. I felt literally "cleansed" as I began to experience the freedom of expelled expectations and abandoned limitations while we wholeheartedly embraced the possibility of that moment. I felt a unity with nature and my divine creator as I experienced a genuine transformation in perspective.

As I sat in my office last week and reflected on that experience, I couldn't help but draw a parallel to my life today... to the challenges that weigh me down... to the way my attitude often impedes possibilities. I thought about my beautiful daughter and the joy that I have experienced as I have come to know her, truly know HER. I thought about the joyous blessings that have come through the freedom of unconditional love and acceptance. I thought about her smile, her laughter, and the beautifully vivacious personality that has emerged in our home and in our life through the freedom of self-expression. I thought about little TAZ and the never-ending reserve of energy that makes his endearing spirit shine. Then, I thought about my precious baby boy and the challenges introduced by the new diagnosis in his life. Once again, I couldn't help but ask the question... "Why am I so upset?" My thoughts drifted back to a very poignant lesson learned, years ago, on one of the best days of my life...

"I'm frustrated because of the rain."

... "Why am I so frustrated with the rain?"

"because I don't want to get wet."

In that moment I thought about my beautiful children and remembered how very much I love them. It occurred to me...

Some of the most profound blessings in my life have been realized during challenging moments in the rain. As I Face the sky with arms outstretched, I thank God for the beautiful gifts that have taught me that it's okay to get wet...

With each challenge in my life I am learning to view the world from a beautifully unique perspective...

With every opportunity for spiritual growth afforded by life's experience, I am blessed to catch a glimpse of the world through His eyes. I am thankful for the divine gifts of an Eternal Father who's influence and blessings are teaching me profound principles.

I am learning to love the rain...

The Test...

This sounds a little corny... but I have come to view organized religion as a reality based representation of the "Force" on Star Wars! What an amazing gift it is to have the kind of power that comes from a community of faith! However, we need to be cautious and aware. Any strength that can be used for good, can also be used to the detriment of that which is good. This is perhaps best illustrated by a world history riddled with holy wars, crusades, and persecution exercised in the name of a divine entity. When practicing faith, regardless of religious shroud, we have a responsibility not to get so caught up in our own ideals, objectives, and perspectives that we we fail to acknowledge God's divine purpose in life and the experience it provides. I have come to realize... If we truly had all the answers, we wouldn't be taking the test.

Love and Perspective...

My thoughts on gender variant children... As the mother of a gender variant child, I was a little disappointed in a recent television program that seemed to exploit gender variant children. These children are not "freak shows" or objects to be "sensationalized" or "pathologized". The reality is that EVERYBODY who demonstrates any variation from the book meausure of "normal" can be clinically categorized as having a pathology. Who among us doesn't have a pathology??? Who really cares??? These are children and people... with an identitiy no different than yours and mine... THEY KNOW WHO THEY ARE and WE NEED TO LISTEN TO THEM, not dismiss them because they are children... and certainly not dismiss them because they are different. The truth is... there is nothing wrong with these people. The problem comes from a surrounding LACK OF COMFORT WITH THEIR SELF-EXPRESSION, AND OBVIOUS VARIATION FROM TRADITIONALLY ACCEPTED NORMS. We need to nurture the spirit. We need to embrace identity and allow people to express themselves for WHO they are so they can grow up to be the beautiful, gifted, amazing INDIVIDUALS that God created them to be. When will we quit cramming people into boxes and realize the beauty of diversity??? When will we abandon judgement and accept all people for the unique eccentricities of their divine nature??? This is what Christ's example has taught me... He has taught me to love and accept my child... and, more importantly, to LISTEN TO and BELIEVE her.

Sometimes the trials that people experience do not have NEARLY AS MUCH TO DO WITH THEM, THAN THOSE WHO NEED TO LEARN AND GROW FROM THEM. I think everyone who is blessed to know or come in contact with a gender variant child needs to ask themselves.... WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO LEARN FROM THIS CHILD??? Only then, will God's pupose in all of this become known. Conversion of the heart doesn't come from arguing opposing viewpoints/positions... it comes from truth... from sharing testimony... and from the power of the spirit. This is true, not only of experiences in a church pew... but in all of aspects of life. I have a testimony of WHO my child is and I thank God every day for helping me to see the truth... for allowing me to SEE HER BEAUTY THROUGH HIS EYES. This is my testimony... and I'm thankful for it.

Auld Lang Syne...

Should old acquaintance be forgot,
and never brought to mind?
Should old acquaintance be forgot,
and auld lang syne?

It's a song that kicks off the New Year in many countries around the world. Many people immediately identify the melody, but precious few understand the lyrics. It's a song that poses a question... A question that invites reflection... Reflection that can lead to new beginnings. What is "Auld lang syne"? Taken from an old ballad, printed in the year 1711... it literally means "old long since", which is interpreted as "days (or times) gone by"...

At the beginning of each New Year, I reflect on the past - sifting experiences through a social, emotional, and spiritual "colander". It's all a matter of reflection, and the questions loom... What to carry into the new year, and what to leave behind?

I have come to realize that each and every experience is invaluable. It's not a matter of what should be preserved and what should be forgotten, but rather a choice... the choice of whether to let go of, or grow from, the "days and times gone by".

I don't believe in regret. Each and every mortal experience takes a beautiful place in the quilt of life. Some experiences are good, while some are bad, but all of them (once pieced together) become the beautiful patchwork textures, patterns, and colors that define who we are spiritually, individually... They are the tattered pieces that contribute to our unique spiritual being. As I unfurl the patchwork craft that represents my life, invariably there are flaws. There are pieces that are much too big, illustrating lessons that took far too long to learn. There are pieces that are way too small which represent extremely impulsive choices that resulted in equally unpredictable outcomes. Some of the patchwork pieces are composed of thick, heavy, dark fabrics and represent periods of frustration, loneliness, despondency, and depression. The bright colored, lightweight squares boast of childbirth, joyous events, achievements, and successes.

Perhaps most notable, are the oddly shaped patches. They don't easily fit with the others... their misshapen composition make them difficult to "quilt" and compromise the contour of the entire work. These patches represent the bitterness of rejection. I have noticed that one of these oddities is quite large, dark, heavy, tattered and worn... it's a profoundly important piece and represents an extremely important aspect of my past. At the very center of that piece is an emptiness... a hole that desperately needs mending, but seems to get larger with time. It's interesting... as I look at my quilt - that patchwork piece has an overwhelming presence... and reflects the fundamental, familiar relationships of my childhood; the ghosts of "days gone by"...

Should old acquaintance be forgot,
and never brought to mind?
Should old acquaintance be forgot,
and days or times gone by?

Recently, I have spent a great deal of time studying that patchwork piece and the relationships that it represents. The dark, heavy threads illustrate the disappointment of rejection with the realization that the huge "misfit patch" at the core of my existence symbolizes the people that should have been the most significant in my life... the childhood relationships that traditionally serve a mortally sacred purpose. Despite the disappointment, I am learning to appreciate the unique beauty of every patch, and it's significance in a much greater "whole".

Sometimes, I wish I could eliminate the hurt... forget the "old acquaintances", and the "days or times" they represent, then I am reminded of the importance of each tattered patch in a collective masterpiece... a divinely beautiful patchwork "self". I am who I am because of the "days and times gone by". With every painful fiber of each awkward patch, the greatest attributes of my existence have evolved. I have been blessed with empathy and compassion for all of God's children.

While watching the movie "It's A Wonderful Life" over the Christmas Holiday, I noticed a quote on a wall in a touching scene that read... "The only thing you can take with you is what you give away." Experiencing rejection teaches the value of acceptance... likewise, surviving criticism paves the way to understanding. Some of the greatest gifts of my life resonate from a greater capacity for love.

I have been greatly blessed by those "misfit" patchwork pieces. In a home full of children with special needs, the disappointment of the past has become a profound blessing in my life through an ability to "see" and truly understanding the unique challenges in the lives of my children. I have learned to appreciate each patch in the divine composition of a beautifully flawed masterpiece.

I love my quilt. I am thankful for every piece, and what the "patchwork" of life has taught... what it has yet to teach... and, especially, Auld Lang Syne...

Happy New Year

Peace on Earth, Good Will Toward Others...

Wow... it's been a while since I've blogged. I decided to take some time "away" from the blog. I needed some respite... a "breather" of sorts and decided to deal with some of our family challenges a little more privately. Things have settled down a bit and we've regained a sense of normalcy and settled into a routine at home. It's the holiday season and I felt compelled to take a moment for reflection and introspection. As the holidays approach, and in light of such a turbulent year, I wanted to express gratitude for the many beautiful blessings in my life. I give thanks to the Lord for the tender way that he teaches eternal truths... for his enduring patience... and unconditional love. This year I've grown in ways that are profoundly difficult to convey to those who have not shared this experience. All I can say is that each step of this journey has made me a better human being. Each step has provided a unique testimony... understanding, gained through experience. Incidentally... the more I learn, the more I realize what I have - yet - to learn. I am thankful for my relationship with my Heavenly Father. I am thankful for his companionship and guidance through a very difficult time in my life... A time when I felt absolutely incapable of meeting the challenges that towered before me. "Thank you, Father, for the blessing of your eternal love."

As we approach the new year, I feel a renewed sense of hope and a sacred trust in something far greater than myself. If ever I had an awareness of my insignificance... it is now. I have come to truly understand that we are all tools in the hands of a divine "craftsman". Some of us may be "hammers", while others are "nails"... but each of us serve an eternal purpose in a divinely sacred masterpiece. I have come to realize that the most important thing I can do, is recognize my time to serve... those moments when I am in his hands. The strength is His, the purpose is His, but the responsibility is mine... to surrender all that I am (my temporal understanding), and all that I have to His divine will.

May we each enjoy the reverent spirit of the holiday season and experience the blessings of "peace on earth, good will toward others".

Through Christ’s Eyes...

Years ago, I had an experience that changed my life. It was one of those rare moments that, even in brevity, teach a profound principle that never escapes the heart and has a profound impact on the soul.

I was fourteen years old at the time; a typical teenager with an amazing ability to focus almost exclusively on my own interests, capabilities, ideas, successes, disappointments, and needs. I had it all figured out, knew all the answers, and understood my purpose in life. That is, until December of 1989 when everything changed. I was blessed with an experience that clarified my existence and taught me the sacred selfless principle that embodies the expression, “Christ-like love”.

It was November in Montana and that year, in particular, the winter was atypically harsh. Subzero temperatures and frequent blizzards plagued the season and a thick blanket of snow enveloped the valley and coated the majestic mountains that surrounded the community where I lived. The bus stop at the end of the road seemed a good distance in the cold, so I’d wait by the door and watch the snow-packed highway that rounded a mountain in the distance until the bus appeared, then I’d “make a run for It” in a feeble attempt to avoid schnoz gauze (an expression used to describe the frozen crust of snot that develops from prolonged exposure to frigid weather). I’d get to the end of the road, turtle-head into my scarf, cram my hands into the bottom of my coat pockets, and jump up and down until the bus arrived. This method was tried and tested and seemed to be the most effective technique for “warding off” the cold.

The next stop was a good six miles down the road, so I had a little time to “thaw out” before the door would open to invite another frosty gust. Typically, I’d rest my head against the corner of the seat and catnap until reaching the final destination at the school yard. I don’t know why, but on that particular day I was acutely aware of my environment and happened to notice three little silhouettes, shivering on the side of the road. The bus squealed to a stop, the door opened, and I observed as each child stepped onto the bus. One at a time, they made their way from the front of the bus, down the aisle in search of a vacant seat. There were two little girls and one young boy, scantily clad in lightweight tattered jackets without hats or mittens. I recognized one of the little girls from the Kindergarten class where I volunteered my sixth period class as a teacher’s aid. Her name was Jenny.

Jenny was very sweet and had an endearing spirit. She always smiled and regardless of the way she was treated by her peers, never had anything nasty to say in retort. I think, in part, because she was mildly mentally handicapped and may not have recognized the ugliness that laced the frequent verbal attacks. It was amazing to me how children so young could identify and target the “weakest link” in a peer group. Jenny was often the victim of harsh ridicule. She only had a few pairs of pants and a couple of shirts that she alternated through the week. Her jacket was well worn and oversized, looking as though it might actually have been her mother’s. Her hair was extremely thin and stringy with a cropped cut that lined her forehead which was malformed and unusually broad. She had some noticeable, although mild, deformities of her hands and fingers. Jenny’s physical abnormalities and mental handicap had been caused by a toxic chemical called Agent Orange, an herbicide used to kill the heavy brush that camouflaged the enemy during Vietnam. Later it was discovered that exposure to the toxin caused severe genetic defects that manifest in the generation of children that followed. Jenny, as well as her brother and sister suffered from these consequential malformations.

Thanksgiving had just passed and the following Sunday our youth group leaders at church challenged us to discover the “Christ centered” significance of Christmas by adopting a family for the Holiday. Immediately, my mind turned to Jenny. I offered the suggestion, we did a little research, and discovered that her father had been struggling to find work and that the family had fallen on hard times. We embraced the opportunity for service.

My first assignment was to assume the role of “secret agent” in an effort to discover the needs of the family and the interests of the children. Jenny was so beautifully naïve and innocently answered, without suspicion, any and all questions asked. As expected, she expressed considerable concern regarding Santa’s navigational abilities indicating awareness that, once again, he might not be able to find their house. When I asked what she wanted for Christmas, her answer was modest, “A My Little Pony… and some cereal with colors. I like cereal with colors.”

When I had finished gathering the data, we went to work raising the money. We hosted bake sales, sacrificed our allowances, & even sold some of our personal belongings. We worked tirelessly for weeks to raise money, gathering toys and clothes, grocery shopping, & wrapping the presents we had bought. As the holiday approached, we experienced a transformation of perspective as we began to truly understand Christmas. Our focus became more about giving than receiving, more about service than self gratification. Our excitement grew with each selfless sacrifice and our interest in the well-being of others became intimately important to each and every one of us. Finally, after several weeks of relentless commitment to the project, the work was done. We had coats, hats, mittens, & other clothes, gifts of all sorts that included My Little Ponies and baby dolls, trucks & tractors, and several boxes of groceries including “cereal with colors”.

We sacrificed Christmas Eve with our families, but somehow it didn’t feel like a sacrifice. There wasn’t anywhere that any of us would have rather been. We met at the church to finish wrapping some last minute items, and then loaded the gifts. We had recruited the Young Men to assist with the delivery. A group of about 14 people, including youth group leaders, piled into three different vehicles and headed out in the frigid cold toward the humble little house in the country.

As we approached the home, we turned the headlights off, pulled to the shoulder of the road, and killed the engine. We were prepared, knew our assignments well, and had a strategy for each stage of the delivery. The boxes were unloaded and one by one, we silently stacked them on and around the doorstep. Methodically working as a team, we successfully delivered Christmas without interrupting the family. At last the moment had come… everyone piled back into the vehicles and anxiously observed as the two boys left behind awaited the signal.

I rubbed a spot in the center of the glass and watched from a frozen car window as our youth group leader gave the “go ahead”. The two that remained knocked on the door, and then scrambled on the ice as they rushed to escape the scene. The cars were started and the two young boys piled in as we attempted to make our getaway. At that moment, however, something unexpected happened… our car wouldn’t budge. We alternated between Drive and Reverse in a desperate attempt to dislodge the vehicle, but to no avail. Frantically, we jumped out and situated ourselves behind the car while we synchronized our efforts in an attempt to rock the vehicle free from the ensnarement of the drift. The wheels were spinning in the snow, and the snow was melting into ice which made it nearly impossible to pull free. Suddenly, our efforts were interrupted by a rapture of squeals and giggles that seemed to permeate the night air. Everyone paused for a moment and shifted focus to the source of the sound.

That’s when it happened... It was a moment frozen in time that etched a place in each of our hearts as we stood motionless in the cold and experienced the blessing of Christ-like love, service, and sacrifice. We watched from a distance as three little children jumped up and down in the cold, barely able to control their excitement. They sifted through the presents, while mother and father stood behind them, locked in a tender embrace. Our struggle to “getaway” was evident in the silence of the night, but no effort was made to discover our identity. A grateful father merely lifted his hand in a gentle wave of thanks. I couldn’t seem to control my emotions as tears welled up in my eyes, brimmed over, and turned to slush on my cheeks.

Words cannot express the joy that we experienced that night. The moral of the story was evident as we stood there shaking in the cold. We had given of ourselves, but received the greatest gift of all… a reminder of our divine purpose. Suddenly, and for a brief moment, the world seemed perfect. We turned our efforts back to the car and it immediately pulled free. I have often wondered “why” and “how” the perfect strategy left us lodged in a snow bank that night. I have come to the conclusion that, although we had planned every step of our delivery, the Lord had planned a very special delivery of his own. At that moment, we didn't see poverty... deformity... or misfortune. We were blessed to see, as if blind before, humanity… through Christ’s eyes. In that sacred moment, we experienced the purity of His love.

Happy Holidays~

In My Daughter's Eyes...

I had a very important personal meeting the other night to discuss some of the delicate issues that have challenged our family. The spirit was very strong during the meeting and I felt inspired by an acute awareness of my Heavenly Father's love and guidance. Following the meeting, I stepped into my vehicle and turned the key. The car started and immediately a song began to play over the radio. The beautiful peace of the spirit flooded my emotions. Years of worry and concern seemed to dissipate, overcome by an assurance of my Eternal Father's influence. The duration of my drive home was spent weeping... basking in the glow of the moment as the tender lyrics whispered sacred truths to my soul. It was an emotional reflection of everything in my heart. I thank God for the precious moments of inspiration in my life, and the daily reminders of His love... His presence... and His peace.




(James Slater)

In my daughter's eyes I am a hero
I am strong and wise and I know no fear
But the truth is plain to see
She was sent to rescue me
I see who I wanna be
In my daughter's eyes

In my daughter's eyes everyone is equal
Darkness turns to light and the
world is at peace
This miracle God gave to me gives me
strength when I am weak
I find reason to believe
In my daughter's eyes

And when she wraps her hand
around my finger
Oh it puts a smile in my heart
Everything becomes a little clearer
I realize what life is all about

It's hangin' on when your heart
has had enough
It's giving more when you feel like giving up
I've seen the light
It's in my daughter's eyes

In my daughter's eyes I can see the future
A reflection of who I am and what will be
Though she'll grow and someday leave
Maybe raise a family
When I'm gone I hope you see how happy
she made me
For I'll be there
In my daughter's eyes...

Peanutbutter and Jelly Blessings...

My five year old son is a constant challenge... bull headed... stubborn... and sometimes a "little" defiant (laced in sarcasm). He consistently and frequently frustrates me. Everything seems like a debate... a constant entourage of discussion and persuasion. His little world MUST make perfect sense at ALL times. He's perpetually focused on issues of inequality and injustice. If I ask him to do something and it doesn't adequately "add up" in his five-year-old world, an exhausting challenge ensues.

Yesterday, while making sandwiches for lunch... Colton requested peanut-butter and jelly while the rest of the children were completely content with turkey. Not a problem... over the years I have learned to appreciate, and grown accustomed to, his frequent assertions of individuality and independence. I was busy making multiple sandwiches and trying to feed the "masses" (by "masses" I'm referring to my four children and the parade of playmates who frequently pass through our home during meal time). I began to cut the sandwich at an angle. I was startled by the aggravated shriek of my child, "NO!!! NOT THAT WAY!"

I stopped mid-cut. He continued in defiance..."I WANT IT CUT THE OTHER WAY!"

He wanted it cut in four equal squares... I had begun to cut it diagonally, in two equal triangles. This was the beginning of a tedious confrontation. In an effort to "choose my battles", I changed my approach to the cut... separating the sandwich into the four equal squares, as requested. Of course, one of the small squares was nearly severed into two miniature triangles because of my initial attempt at cutting the sandwich. I quickly placed it on a paper plate, then garnished it with chips and grapes... pretending not to notice the "defective" piece. I hoped that by overlooking the "flawed" square, he would accept the sandwich "as is", we could enjoy our lunch, and avoid the impending act of defiance that - over the years - I have come to expect.

I placed the sandwich in front of him. He looked at the sandwich and his eyes studied the piece that seemed to announce my irreparable "error in judgement". I continued to ignore his aggravation. He looked up at me with a bitter scowl, then pushed the plate to the center of the table as if he'd just found a hair in his food, then proclaimed... "I want another one."

Here we go...

"Colton, there's nothing wrong with that sandwich. It will taste the same, regardless of how it's cut... just eat it." I slid the plate back to him, hoping that he would surrender to my frustration and eat his lunch.

The other children were happily engaged in eating their meal. I busily went about the tasks at hand, making and serving juice. I put Cole's cup of juice down in front of him... I looked at the plate... sure enough, the "defective" piece had mysteriously vanished while the bitter scowl on his face stubbornly remained. I looked in the garbage... there it was... "the misfit".

Colton, noticing my displeasure, asserted himself with explanatory conviction... "I want a different sandwich."

Too tired for an out-and-out battle, I attempted to compromise with the stubborn little turd... "You don't have to eat the piece that's cut wrong. Eat the rest of the sandwich... When you're finished, if you're still hungry... I'll make you another one."

One by one, the other children finished their lunch and asked to be excused. Colton stubbornly remained... arms crossed... furrowed brow. I began to clean up. As I turned around, there he stood... beside the trash with the remaining pieces of the sandwich crumbled in his hands and a defiant look on his face. There we were, my will versus his... standing toe to toe... eyes locked... in what can only be described as a stand-off...


I WON.

I took the twisted sandwich from his hands, reinforced my prior position, and sent him to his room without lunch. The mangled remains of a perfectly good sandwich went into the trash. The next hour and a half was engulfed by defiant howls of bitter injustice and verbal assertions of inequality. Ahhh, yes.... the joys of parenthood.

Last night, after the children went to bed, I thought about this experience and my relationship with my child. My thoughts drifted to the relationship that I have with my own father... my Eternal Father, and I could identify some striking parallels...

Matthew 7:7-11

7. Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you.

8. For every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened.

9. Or what man is there of you, whom if his son ask bread, will he give him a stone?

10. Or if he ask a fish, will he give him a serpent?

11. If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your Father which is in heaven give good things to them that ask him?

Colton asked for bread... he was given bread, but the bread provided didn't meet his expectations. Because of those expectations... the bread became a "stone"... a blessing, discarded and not received.

I couldn't help but reflect on my own life and the relationship that I have with my Heavenly Father. I couldn't help but wonder how many times I have refused to accept the "bread" that I have been given? I wonder how many times I have failed to acknowledge the limitations on my mortal understanding, thereby demonstrating a stubborn lack of faith in the will of my Father? The Savior repeatedly taught the value of faith...

Matthew 17:20

20. Verily I say unto you, If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, Remove hence to yonder place; and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible unto you.

I have come to realize that formulating expectations leads to lost opportunities and a failure to embrace many of the Lord's "good gifts". While perfect faith has the potential to move mountains, the lack thereof can turn "bread into stones", and "fish into serpents"... blessings disposed.

Through adversity, I am learning to resist less, expect less, and give more. I am learning to love completely, live authentically, and BELIEVE faithfully. I am learning to rejoice in adversity... and give thanks for the experiences in my life that have clarified my understanding of God, my relationship to others, and my purpose in this world. I am awake... I am blessed... I am forever His.

James 1:2-4

2. My brethren, count it all joy when ye encounter trials;

3. Knowing this, that the trying of your faith worketh patience.

4. But let patience have her perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing.

I am learning to trust God's will and graciously accept the "good gifts" in my life. I am learning to "want nothing", to let go of my expectations... expectations that frequently result in discarded...

"peanutbutter and jelly blessings"

Radical Acceptance

Radical Acceptance

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Adventures in Radical Acceptance

Adventures in Radical Acceptance (Round 2)

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"Some people just like the way I am..."

"Some people are the same...

Some people are different...

Some people are short...

Some people are tall...

Look, I'm not even quite the same as all the others... but...

SOME PEOPLE JUST LIKE THE WAY I AM."

I THANK GOD EVERY DAY FOR THOSE PEOPLE...

Thoughts on compassion...

I recently received an e-mail from someone who had visited us here. I would like to extend my gratitude to this woman for taking the time to contact me directly, for her prayers, and for her concern. There may be others who share this perspective, so I felt compelled to take a moment to respond...

"I don't know what made me decide to read your blog the other day, but it literally made me sick. I have been thinking for days what I wanted to say to you, and realized there was so much I need to say, knowing you probably don't care. So I have been writing my thoughts, and praying for days.

First off, the pastor that wrote the mass email was not trying to rally his congregation in opposition of Cameron's gender. We, the congregation are already opposed, because of what the bible teaches us. Anyone who has read or studied the bible knows this. Even people that don't, know this is wrong.

I want you to know as well, most people are not against your child. We are upset with you. What you are doing to your child is wrong. To me it is child abuse. It might not be considered as child abuse by DHR, but I hope and pray that one day it will. Laws can always be made or changed. Cameron is not at an age he can make this decision on his own. He would have had to have been taught this by you, over a long period of time. I want you to know that we pray for Cameron everyday. I pray God Will heal him. My God is a healer! If you really read and study your bible, there is no doubt in my mind this would not be going on with Cameron. He would be a happy boy! God doesn't make mistakes. God made Cameron a boy, the devil tryed to make him a girl. You let the devil win. I feel so bad for Cameron.

It makes me sick how you use the bible in your blog. You know the devil will trick you. He knows the bible too. You twist Gods word to make it fit your own beliefs and your story's. Why do you write a public blog? Why do you use God in it? You do know that you will be held accountable one day for all the life's you confuse and turn away from God. It so hurts my spirit, all of this.

I will continue to pray for Cameron. I will continue to pray that God will open your eyes and ears, and you will see what he is really trying to tell you. I have told my child, who is in Cameron's grade, that Cameron is a boy. and to pray for him daily. I have told him to be nice, and not say anything bad, but I have told him that it is wrong in Gods eyes and that is why we need to pray for him daily.

The whole world wants Christians to be tolerant to what is convenient to them and what they believe, and when we stand up for what we believe, we are judgmental and full of hate. This world is so messed up and confused all because of the devil. He wants to destroy all of us. I will do everything in my power to protect my child from the devil. That is why I don't understand what you are doing. My Lord will return one day! If you ever need great guidance our church is always open for you!

I will continue to pray for you and Cameron!"


Sometimes it's difficult for me to convey what is in my head and heart. It's unfortunate that our personal journey has caused so much distress. It would be easy to react in anger to some of the assertions that have been made, but I have grown through this experience in ways that I never thought possible. This growth has become a tremendous blessing in my life... I am thankful for the opportunities for continued growth that are presented with each new day. The most precious spiritual "scar" that I have been given is a greater aptitude for understanding, compassion, and humility for all of God's children.

There was a time in my life when I - too - stood where this woman stands today... There was a time in my life when I thought I had all of the answers. There was a time when I felt convinced that I knew God... knew his plan... knew his views and opinions. At that time in my life, if I were standing outside of where I stand today, I might have pointed the same finger of scorn at another for making the choices that we have felt impressed to make. At that time in my life, these decisions would not have fit into my understanding, or met my expectations, for what I understood to be right... and the testimony that I had of "truth".

The one thing that I have gained a testimony of through this experience is simple, but profound... I have been humbled by the realization that there are many things that I don't, truly, understand. I can no longer take the experiences in my life, or the lives of others, for granted. I have come to understand that I don't have all of the answers. I have learned to pray daily - with diligence and faith - for the strength to accept these challenges in my life, and the patience to move forward with grace and dignity. This has been an uphill battle... one that I know some people will not relate to, or understand - one that most will be fortunate to never experience. It has, and may continue to invite opposition. There is no "alternate route"... the only way to survive adversity when life throws "a curve ball" is through absolute faith. I have become acquainted with my Father through adversity. I thank Him each day for His love in my life.

I cannot judge those who express concern over our direction, some of whom exist within the confines of my own family. Through this experience I have learned the importance of acceptance, compassion, and understanding in the lives of all people without regard to "difference". It would be hypocrisy to pray to receive these blessings if I am unwilling to exercise these principles in my own life.

I have often wondered if God gets tired of the contention? I wonder if he ever grows weary of people arguing over His word... who's right, who's wrong, and who has the answers? I wonder what He feels when He looks at the world and sees anger, hate, and judgement... perpetrated in His name? I wonder... then I think about my responsibility in this experience.

There is no question that this is a profound trial for our family. Words cannot express what we have been through. We acknowledge the spiritual responsibility in the decisions that we have made. There is, however, a fundamental truth that many fail to acknowledge. I believe that there is another trial that has been overlooked... it's the trial introduced to those on the outside of this experience.

Christ taught through parables, through love, through understanding and compassion. He exemplified these principles throughout His life. I believe that He expects us to emulate His example, both in word and deed. He taught love and compassion for others. He taught acceptance and understanding. Most importantly... He taught us that it is not our place to judge or condemn one another. I believe that the day will come when each of us are called to stand before our Eternal Father and account for the "substance" of our life. God knows each of us better than we know ourselves... He knows our pain, the intentions of our heart, and He is the one who will determine the "rights" and "wrongs" of our mortal experience. Cammie's gender variance is our trial... how people respond to it, is theirs.

I do have a testimony of my Heavenly Father. I have a testimony of my child. I have turned to the Lord for guidance throughout my life, in adversity and in peace... I continue to turn to Him today. I am thankful for the many blessings in my life. I know that God loves his children... all of them. He has blessed me with His companionship. He is always there... His love is eternal and unconditional.

I am a good enough mother to recognize that I have many faults and shortcomings. I'm sure my imperfection will manifest itself in the future through the relationships that I work to maintain and cultivate with my precious children each day. I love them with every fiber of my being. Although they may not be clearly understood by some, the actions that I take are inspired by that love.

I don't expect others to understand the complexity of these trials in our life. I do, however, pray daily that those on the outside of this challenge will be able to identify the extreme difficulty of this experience. I pray that, as brothers and sisters in Christ, we will each identify the opportunities and exercise the strength to step outside of ourselves, follow His example, and respond to one another with compassion...


Luke 10:25-29

And, behold, a certain lawyer stood up, and tempted him, saying, Master, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?

He said unto him, What is written in the law? How readest thou?

And he answering said, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind; and thy neighbour as thyself.

And he said unto him, Thou has answered right: this do, and thou shalt live.

But he, willing to justify himself, said unto Jesus, And who is my neighbour?

Jesus replied with a story:

“A Jewish man was traveling on a trip from Jerusalem to Jericho, and he was attacked by bandits. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him up, and left him half dead beside the road. By chance a priest came along. But when he saw the man lying there, he crossed to the other side of the road and passed him by. A Temple assistant walked over and looked at him lying there, but he also passed by on the other side. Then a despised Samaritan came along, and when he saw the man, he felt compassion for him. Going over to him, the Samaritan soothed his wounds with olive oil and wine and bandaged them. Then he put the man on his own donkey and took him to an inn, where he took care of him. The next day he handed the innkeeper two silver coins, telling him, ‘Take care of this man. If his bill runs higher than this, I’ll pay you the next time I’m here."

Luke 10:36 - 37

Which now of these three, thinkest thou, was neighbour unto him that fell among the thieves?

And he said, He that shewed mercy on him. Then said Jesus unto him, Go, and do thou likewise.