A friend of mine shared this with me today and it resonates so clearly with me, and I’d imagine with some of you as well, especially if you are or have been involved in foster care.
Sometimes I feel like I can’t talk about the negative parts of our journey with others because I’ll get a “that’s why I’d never do that” response. It’s a big fear of mine that my anxious, stressed, or discouraged words would be the reason someone doesn’t move forward with their foster care journey. God reminds me frequently, though, that the burden to rally others to provide for orphans and the oppressed does not lay solely on my shoulders (no matter what my stressed out mind might be telling me at 2am) and that people will use this excuse (and many others) to stay away from fostering even if it’s not my words giving them fuel for that fire.
On the contrary, I think it’s actually so important for us to be able to talk about the ‘darkness’, in spite of the responses we may get from others. I want so badly to encourage others to take steps towards fostering, but foster care is not rainbows and unicorns and if we only share the happy and perfect moments we are setting future foster parents (and, as a byproduct, their future foster children) up for potential additional heartache because they’ve entered into a situation in which they’ve possibly only been shown the ‘lightness’. We’ve been cautious not to share the darkness with them out of fear that we may discourage them from joining this cause. What they’ve seen from us has been filtered and though we don’t need to (and can’t!) share all, I think we need to share as much as we can of both the ‘light’ and the ‘darkness’ of foster care. Rather than sharing our experiences through a ‘happy’ lens, we need to display our foster care experience through the lens of ‘this is so tough, but God…’. It’s real and honest, but also provides an example of hope to others for when things are tough. Because things will get tough….but God. Caring for these children is His command to us and His ways are not our ways. In these situations we rarely know the ‘why’ or ‘how’ and we never get a sneak peek into the future to know the ‘who’; but God knows and has called us to act. So to all the foster parents out there, I say: share the lightness and the darkness. Your shared experiences, good and bad, won’t be the sole reason someone chooses not to foster. But they will be an example to someone who does foster of God’s ability to provide Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Goodness, Gentleness, Faithfulness, and Self Control in situations where no mere human would be able to generate such responses on their own.
Share the darkness.
Xoxo, Ashley
Inspiration
That time I knocked over a grocery store display. And also {slightly less important}, that time I needed a kidney transplant.
This has been an interesting season of life for me. I’m actually the healthiest I’ve ever been. I’ve been working out so I am the strongest I’ve ever been, which makes me feel invincible and fierce. Unfortunately, I’m also the sickest I’ve ever been, what with my kidneys being wack and all. If you’re just tuning in, you can read about my genetic kidney disease here and its more recent progression here. So unfortunately, I’m not invincible and only sometimes fierce. But even in my moments of failure and weakness and fear, you guys…. God is SO good.
I had begun feeling stressed about this whole process recently, mostly due to a lot of wait time and unreturned phone calls and miscommunications and just a whole lot of ‘not great feels’. But God delivers what I need, when I need it. This week I was needing my phone calls to be returned from the transplant center and I just wasn’t getting the responses I needed and it was frustrating and stressful. But my prayer warrior mom and her prayer warrior friends prayed big prayers for immediate call-backs for me one morning. And I got those call-backs. Immediately. As in within the hour. Prayers answered.
You know what else God has given me? Breath in my lungs and the ability to place my feet on the floor and get out of bed each morning. This is not what I thought kidney failure would look like for me as I approached transplant. Granted, some days I am so tired I can barely make it to 1pm before laying down. And my appetite is a crazy rollercoaster that takes me from eating all the things one day to forcing a smoothie down just so I don’t pass out the next day. The nausea is annoying and the metallic taste in my mouth is disgusting. The headaches are debilitating and are the result of iron deficiency and not being able to eat enough. And the foggy brain makes me fear for my sanity, since my short term memory seems to be non-existent.
All that laid out, it’s still just headaches and nausea and exhaustion and foggy brain. I endured all that and more while pregnant with Charlie so I can endure it again on a larger and more severe scale with kidney failure, no big deal. Somehow God provides me with enough energy to sustain me when I need it. And on those days when I am not able to do all the things, He has provided an amazing support system who picks up the slack. My mom comes over often to help me stay on top of laundry and cleaning and life in general, my co-workers let me ask them redundant questions when my brain fails me, my job schedule is flexible, I have my own personal workout coach who gently prods me to come and work out, and my husband allows me to sleep when I need it without a single complaint.
Somehow, things still get done. For instance, on Thursday this week:
I worked {as a pediatric speech pathologist}, and
got a flu shot {which caused the hypochondriac in me to start feeling flu-ish aches by mid-afternoon}, then
had a phone conference {which zapped some of my mental energy allotment}, then
vacuumed my floors and got a load of laundry started when I got home {with kids hanging on me like little leeches}, then
worked out at the YMCA {total beast mode}, then
went grocery shopping with both kids, and
gave in and let the kids have the ‘car cart’ {for once not being mean mommy by saying no}, then
crashed the big dumb ‘car cart’ into a display of sunflower seeds {because its turn radius is nonexistent}, knocking the display over and scattering the packages all over the aisle, then
finally got out of the store and put all the groceries away when we got home, then
put the kids to bed by myself because Chris was at band practice, then
fell into bed.
The end.
Evidence of the ‘car cart’ ruckus pictured below:
Not every day is that successful. Honestly, most of them are not. If I get a load of laundry washed and into the dryer each day then that’s a success, even if the load never makes it out of the dryer. I’m just too tired most of the time.
But I can still have adventures with my family and workout and handle toddler tantrums and play with my kiddos and supervise homework and work at a job which I love and volunteer at church and hang out with friends.
I’m sick, but I’m alive and life is still good. I can’t believe I’m able to do all the things I can do as my kidney’s fail. Each day I’m thankful for the joy and love and happiness that wrangle more space in my mind than the fear and anxiety and depression. Ain’t nobody got time for yucky vibes. God offers me peace and comfort daily, so I’m clinging to that as things progress.
Yesterday I spent all day at the hospital having tests completed (Echocardiogram, EKG, ultrasound, lab work, and x-rays), then Chris and I met with the transplant team and the surgeons.
The next step will be to try and find a living donor match before I have to go on dialysis. That’s where you all come in. The deceased donor wait list is approximately 5 years long, with nearly 100,000 people in the US waiting for kidneys transplants. I am praying bold prayers that God will provide me with a living donor kidney before I have to go on dialysis. Please share this post for me. Please pray for my future donor.
And please consider donating, even if it isn’t to me. You can read about “non-directed” organ donations and “paired” donations from UNOS { www.unos.org}, in which you can donate a kidney to someone who is waiting for a kidney transplant in the US, even though you don’t know them.
Potential living donor candidates for me must have Type O blood {positive & negative factors do not matter}. You can fill out the Health History Questionnaire if you are interested in finding out more and want to begin the process to see if you are a candidate.
{You’ll need my birth date, which is 05/04/1985}
If more than one living donor becomes available to me, further medical testing {lab draws and health exams} will determine which match is optimal for all parties involved.
Thank you for rallying around Chris and I on this journey. Sometimes I hear from people that they’ve forgotten I was sick, which I believe is a testament to how God has sustained me. I know He will continue to sustain me and will provide a living donor kidney for me. I’m speaking it out. And God hears and He will deliver. amen.
XoXo,
Ashley
Say Yes.
I did something today that was really difficult.
I accepted help from someone.
A close family friend, who has been like a second mama to me since birth, told me she wanted to come over and help me with whatever it was I needed help with. Can you believe that thoughtfulness?
Of course I wanted to say no. My first thought was “Um… absolutely not, because then you will see my home and see my mess”. The thought was horrifying, because Mrs Sherry is someone I hold in the highest regard. She is the quintessential homemaker. Mary Poppins, even. Practically perfect in every way. So I really wanted to say no. But she cornered me and called me on the phone and made me promise I would accept her help. I couldn’t say no, and I’m so glad I didn’t.
I’ve been so tired lately and just feeling pretty yucky. As I’m sure you know, all it takes is one or two days of not doing housework for things to begin piling up; and playing ‘catchup’ is like a Unicorn. Spoken of in hushed, whispered voices but there’s never any solid proof of someone actually catching up on all their housework. And the mini Bakers in our home seem to approach scattering toys and pouring food on the floor like it’s their job. Not to mention how much laundry they create. Lately I find myself just getting through the top few tasks on the housekeeping to-do list, whatever is a necessity for us to keep on living; the rest of the to-do’s are relegated to the bottom in the “I’ll get to it when I get to it” section. Like cleaning out the fridge. So that’s what Mrs. Sherry helped me do today. She was totally prepared to tackle it by herself, but I’ve been feeling good this week, so we worked on it together. Just having someone work alongside me helped the task seem more manageable and prolonged my energy so I didn’t feel like sitting down halfway through.
My mom will often come over to help me tackle a project, too, and she’s been doing that since forever because she knows me and my unorganized self and knows I’m the “starter of many projects, finisher of very few”. It’s hard for me to accept her help as well, but I do; especially now because I really need it… and also she doesn’t really ask. She just sort of shows up {which I love}. And she’s proven over the years that she still loves me in spite of those times when I just can’t do anymore and my home bears the consequences, despite my wishes to do more and be more. More organized. More consistent with cleaning. More adept at ironing. The list goes on.
I know I’m not the only one out there who has a hard time accepting help from others. I honestly had a hard time resisting the urge to clean everything before my helper came over today. There’s something about allowing someone into your home that shines a spotlight on your vulnerabilities. The real you. The real home. You know, the home you live in with its dishes in the sink and questionable liquid beside the toilet because kids? {Side note: if you are one of those people with a housekeeping superpower and your clean folded clothing makes it all the way to the dresser, this post is not for you. move along. actually, please stay. Stay and share your secrets with us. We want to be you. for real}.
Allowing people to see the areas where we are big fat failures opens us up for judgement. And I don’t know about you, but I will flat out cry ugly tears if I think someone may be judging my housekeeping skills. I mean, I judge myself every day for my inability to commit to seeing the laundry through from start to finish; but that doesn’t mean I’ll survive someone else judging me for it. For some reason I seem to equate receiving help with acknowledging my imperfections to the outside world. I wasn’t able to do it, so they had to step in. And that makes me feel like poop. Constantly failing at getting everything done that I wish to get done.
But guess what? I can’ t do ALL THE THINGS. I just can’t. I’ve had to remind myself daily of this natural law of time passing that there are just some things I’m not able to do. Each day I have a “To-Do “list. Which means each day I also have a “Don’t” list. A list of things I won’t be able to get to. When work and church things and the gym and Will’s therapies and laundry and grocery shopping are on the to-do list, that usually means I won’t be painting my baseboards or sifting through the pile of paperwork that has accumulated on the counter or maybe only one bathroom gets cleaned. Maybe others are judging me for that. I feel like it might be human nature to judge others by the amount of things that fall on someone else’s “Don’t” list. But I don’t want that to be my nature. Instead we should be looking more closely at others “To-Do” lists and thinking of ways we can help alleviate their burden. Not because they are failing at life {though sometimes it feels that way}, but because helping one another is what God created us to do.
Those of us who are strong and able in the faith need to step in and lend a hand to those who falter, and not just do what is most convenient for us. Strength is for service, not status. Each one of us needs to look after the good of the people around us, asking ourselves, “How can I help?”
Romans 15:1
I don’t think this verse pertains to only spiritual needs, and if God calls us to look after those around us and help where we can, then he is also expecting us to accept the help that is offered to us.
I’m not sure why I don’t wan’t to say Yes when others offer to help me. I mean, when I offer to help someone clean or run an errand or whatever it may be, I’m offering because I want you to know “I SEE YOU, and I UNDERSTAND, and ME TOO…. so LET ME HELP”. I’m certainly not saying “oh my lawd….. can you believe she doesn’t fold her fitted sheet? I’m gonna help this poor dear do this properly because she is obviously a wreck at life”.
If people do judge me {which I’m sure they do, because people are Judgy-McJudgersons} it’s not like they are thinking something I don’t already think about myself; but if I’m being truly honest, it’s that fear of judgement that keeps me from saying ‘yes’ when someone offers to help me. If I don’t accept help, and if I don’t let them in to see the real hot mess that is my life, then I can continue to fool the rest of the world into thinking I’m a successful adult.
There are very few people who I allow to come into my #nofilter home and wander about. They’ve been vetted and don’t seem to care about the crazy craft supply corner in my room and don’t bat an eye at scooting 3 loads of laundry aside on the couch so they have a place to sit. Today, I gained another #nofilter friend because I said YES, even though I wanted to say NO. She came. She brought me coffee. She cleaned. She let me cry on her shoulder. Then she left and said “See you next time”. and I’m so incredibly thankful for that.
Let’s act like God urges us to act. Lend the hand. Offer the help. Walk beside and ask “What can I do?”.
Which also means: Be willing to accept the offer. Drink the coffee. Use the shoulder to cry on. Open the fridge and show the mess.
xoxo,
Ashley
Don't keep the manuals!
We’ve entered into February and, as is typical for any project I take on, I’m taking longer to finish this task than I had anticipated. Though I guess you should never really stop paring down your stuff, I had hoped to power through this by giving myself a deadline because I didn’t want to lose steam or have my motivation wane as the weeks went on and it got progressively more difficult to part with my precious things. And it really did get progressively more difficult to part with my precious things.
{Side note: I wanted to insert a photo of Gollum from Lord of The Rings here…. my precious… but I just couldn’t look at him. Too scary and I don’t want self-induced nightmares}
Even though the month is over, I haven’t been able to tackle all of the ‘areas’ of my home, so I’m not bailing on this until the very end {If you’re just joining me, you can read about my adventure with self-reduction here}. I’ve still been trucking along, tackling each room and space a little at a time. Closets, drawers, toy bins, under the beds, the scary junk drawer…. no area is safe. It has taken me a while to make it into each room because I keep getting side-tracked with random jobs that must be completed that instant. Like today, when I happened to notice how yucky the inside of our dishwasher was becoming. Have you ever really looked in your dishwasher? You’re supposed to clean it occasionally, and I feel like I have to clean ours more frequently than most because our washer is probably 80 human years old. All I can say is YUCK. I gagged three times. There is a little section where the door hinges that doesn’t ever get washed by the water so it is like Fear Factor up in there! Each time it gets yucky from now on I’ll just throw the washer out and buy a new one like the good American consumer I am.
Recently I’ve been focused on Peep’s bedroom, half of which was also designated as my ‘office’ which included all my therapy materials and our personal filing cabinets. I’ve uncovered some long lost memories while going through these bins of random junk and it was straight up terrifying to get rid of my old graduate school notes. Don’t ask me why, since I haven’t referenced any of it in 6 years {thank you Lord for the internet}.
This week I said adios to:
Manuals. You guys. Don’t be like this. THOW AWAY THE MANUALS. If it makes you feel better you can check to make sure a particular manual is online before tossing the paper, but don’t harbor these space suckers.
Therapy materials. It’s hard to toss something you’ve made or something you ‘might want to reference in the future’. Guess what? That’s what the internet is for. And also my brain. I conjured up this social script for a patient of mine once before, I can do it again.
I had been harboring so many old therapy materials and books that I just can’t use anymore. It’s nice to make space for the things I actually do use.
I also purged half the contents of my linen closet. I mean, look at this ridiculously tiny closet. It’s definitely not a normal size. What is this, a closet for ants? It was pretty easy to let go of a lot of things in here because most of it was expired medicine, a crib sheet that’s lost its elasticity, six tubes of sunscreen, and fifty thousand bandaids. With all that extra junk gone I can find my essential oils with ease!
Also this week:
Charlie got ‘tired’ from shopping. What?! #notmychild
We discovered I have an obsession with bunny slippers. Charlie decided on an interpretive dance to wish them well in their next home.
I rewarded my winning month of purging with a pretty new throw for our bed. I struggle with keeping our room clean and orderly and I think part of that is because I hate being in there. We’ve had the most horrendous dark dark teal carpet in our master bedroom since moving into this house 6 years ago. We don’t have the budget to re-carpet right now, so I’m embracing the color and bringing more teal things into the room. Loving what I put into my room will help me stay on top of clearing out the clutter; I don’t want to allow our room to continue to be the ‘spare room’ where all the random stuff goes to die. The teal throw was approved by Charlie.
Are you still going strong with paring down your stuff? Don’t quit just because January is gone. You’ll feel your burden becoming lighter with each bag of stuff you toss or donate.
Make space for the things you truly love and enjoy and are using regularly.
Xoxo,
Ashley