Come. Follow Me. God, Santa, a beautiful park, and a boy named Joe.

Come. Follow me...Mark 1:17

Last week I went through schedules for the month. Literally, the month.  Felt pretty overwhelmed for myself and my family.  Every single day from December 1 through December 19, we have one or more activities that we are committed to.  After a full-day's work and a full day of school.  All are good activities.  All are enjoyable.  All we get to enjoy other people that are amazing people in our village.  We eat a lot of drive-through. Our house is a disaster.  Our friends are ALL in the same boat.  We get each other.  It's a busy season.  In a season that should be filled with joy, sometimes it's hard to find becuase of the stresses that come with it.  Christmas shopping isn't done and the tree isn't up, but we'll get there.  Maybe tomorrow afternoon after all the church activities are over and we're all at home.  If the mice that were in the attic didn't get to my tree...It's life.  It's hectic. It's stressful. It's all-encompassing.  The schedule runs us.  I need more white space on the calendar.  It's also beautiful and wonderful and amazing in the same breath.

It's a Saturday, and my middle gets to do what she loves the absolute most and take dance lessons from amazing people that I'm so thankful are in our village.  Couldn't imagine her not with them or them not with us.  They're a blessing.  There's downtime for 3 1/2 hours for my sweet 2-year old boy and me while the middle takes dance and the big is away doing what she loves. The gardens have been advertising that this weekend still has the best color.  Off we go, because it looks like fun and I love some good nature pictures!  His favorite colors are yellow and orange, and he asks while we're there if God and Santa are there.  Actually we later find out that Santa is in the park while we're there and carolers will be singing.  We talk about God being all around us in the beauty and the colors that He's given us.  Joe looks at me at another point and tells me God made him to be him.  So wise for a two-year old.  He (God) did do that!  We weren't expecting to have other children.  Not that we didn't want more, but were very content with our precious girls.  God gave us one that's in Heaven, then gave us Joe.  Joe's due date was on the one year death date of our 3rd.  It's not a coincidence.  He knew what we needed.  Love and grace and hope in the form of a boy.


 Joe is named after two of his great-grandfathers.  His name in Hebrew means "He will add."  That he does.  He adds Joy.  He adds laughter.  He adds time.  He adds white space in the calendar.  You have to stop for a baby and toddler.  So many people have told me that they could never start over at 38 or 40 with another baby.  It's not for everyone.  Not everyone has the opportunity.  He knew what we would face over the past few years, and placed this child named Joe with us.  He adds.  Immeasurably.





He found Santa and rushed toward him with a leaf to give him.  He traded for a candy cane.  His mom also found God in the park in the tiny boy placed with me and in the beauty and stillness and time around me.  I needed that today.  I needed life and air today.  

He (Joe) looked at me at one point today and said, "Come follow me."  I think it's synonomous.  I have that verse hanging in my house in the form of a picture I gave my husband for our first Christmas.  "Come. Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men."

Joe likes to lead.  May you lead others the rest of your life, sweet boy.  May you be a man among men.  May you be a fisherman.  May you bring joy to all you come in contact with like you add to my life.  He is love, he is life, he is laughter, he is pure joy.   He is the ornery kid who licks the top of the honey and makes himself a ketchup sandwich and pours his milk into his dump truck.  He gives me mommy kisses when I ask and says, "I cwack you up?!? You cwack me up!" He is here for a purpose.  For 3 1/2 hours today, his mommy forgot about a schedule and found life and lived it.  Life was good today.  

Come follow me.

I'll follow you, sweet one.  May you be a man among men.

World Suicide Prevention Day--When wearing a yellow shirt gets personal...

It's been awhile since I've blogged about a project.  Too busy with my "life projects" of being a wife, mommy, working for my husband, and taxi-driving to write much. Today is a special day, though.  I have a super-hero in my house.  It's not the one you'd expect, although he's really super cute in a cape. It's not my dancing girl either, although she's also a hero in my eyes as well.  My super-hero comes in the form of a 15-year old who fights depression and anxiety and suicidal thoughts.  She's one of the strongest, bravest, most courageous, strongest-willed, loving, thoughtful, creative, intelligent, beautiful people I know, even if I am her mom.  She's a lover of learning and a lover of music and a lover of theatre and a lover of life, a lover of family and a lover of friends and a lover of her God.  She's a lot of ands.  I don't talk about her a lot on Facebook because of her age and that I don't want to embarrass her.  I haven't talked about her struggle but to a very few people, either, because other than it being my mom story, it's her story to tell.  It has to be her choice, not mine.  She tells it so well and uses a very dark, trying, difficult time to bring light to others who may still be in the darkness or who struggle with the same thing.  She texted and emailed and tweeted and direct messaged people through the night last night to get them to wear yellow or a semi-colon to bring awareness to Depression/Anxiety/Suicide Prevention.  She's a leader.  I have her permission to write this.  We're on this journey together, even if I have to get the tattoo with her.

Today is World Suicide Prevention Day.  You may not think you know of anyone who would be affected by this, but I guarantee you, someone you know and love fights or has fought depression, anxiety, and possibly suicidal thoughts every day.  This isn't something as society that we talk about.  We hush about it--keep it in the dark.  It's a very silent suffering until you choose to not be silent anymore.  I've thought recently that when we greet each other, we say, "How are you?" "Great. How are you?" Really??  We're not all great.  Some of us are fighting great big huge battles that others cannot begin to comprehend.  We think we win a battle, then a pot shot gets thrown at us and knocks us down again.  We keep smiling and getting back up and going at it again and again and again for however long it takes to win the battle.  Some of us are in the trenches with the ones we love the most in the entire world and we'd move heaven and earth so they'd see themselves the way we do.

I've heard things about helicopter parents causing depression in kids; I've also heard things that someone's faith just isn't strong enough, that if they spend more time with God and strengthen their faith, the thoughts will go away, that it's demons tempting you and that God can overpower.  How disheartening, especially if you're in the pit and already praying and working on your faith.  These are things that turn people from the church.  She's heard comments about "just pray God would take the feelings away," "Just be happy. What do you have to be sad about?" "You're different on medication." "You don't need it, just pray about it." Would you say the same to someone with heart problems, cancer, diabetes, or other illnesses?  Of course not...You dive in next to the person and their family and walk with them through what they're going through.  Like other illnesses, we can't pray it away, We can't make ourselves happy when depression has put goggles over our eyes and are down in a dark hole so deep there's no visible light.  I "helicopter" because sometimes I need to check on her, even if it means taking lunches to school every. single. day. all. year. long.  I give the excuse that I haven't been to the store, and more often than not, it's the truth. However, my ultimate reason has been to check on her.  If your kid were sick and on the mend, you'd "helicopter", too.  

There's a lot society can learn.

Depression is an illness just as any other illness if we visited someone in the hospital on any floor suffering from an illness.  Thankfully, through counseling and medication and a support system, it CAN go into remission, and the person who has this illness CAN lead a normal, happy, successful life.  Depression runs in families.  Nobody causes it.  It's hereditary.  She gets depression and anxiety from both sides of our families.  We can't pray it away.  We absolutely pray about it and for our girl, but as with other illnesses, we seek medical attention, too.  So unbelievably thankful for UT Southwestern in Dallas and my Google Maps that gets us there.  They are one of the 5 top research facilities in the country on Depression/Anxiety in Adolescents.  I take medication for my heart to not beat so fast.  My super-hero takes medication to equal out the chemicals in her brain.  We need to talk about it.  People need to know they're loved right smack dab in the middle of the ugly as well as in the middle of the beautiful.  It's real.  The depression and debilitating anxiety attacks are not made up or "for attention". Neither are the suicidal thoughts.  People in that pit truly believe they have no value and are in the way.  They need to know they're loved. No matter what. Good, Bad or Really Ugly...They're LOVED and SO IMPORTANT!  We need to quit being embarrassed about it as a society or being hush-hushed about it.  If someone has open-heart surgery, the flu, a car accident, a broken bone, you name it, we're there to help however we can.  We start Facebook prayer pages, we bring meals, we carry things to lighten the load, we ask how that person is doing and how we can help.  We jump through hoops to be a support system.  Many times, people with depression, anxiety, and suicidal thoughts and their families fight alone.  It's a silent fight. But let me tell you, it's a fight.  The people who suffer from this illness are some of the bravest, strongest, greatest people I know.  We don't have to bring meals or start Facebook pages, but we do need to lend an ear, say "I love you", say "You're important", give a hug, ask how they are.  Go out of your way to be KIND.  

KIND MATTERS.  LOVE MATTERS. PEOPLE MATTER.

My super-hero wants to be an aeronautical engineer.  She's going to break glass ceilings.  She has the greatest support system of friends anyone can ask for.  The picture below is from her theatre family this morning in support of Suicide Prevention Day. The picture above is her wrist.  She wants the semi-colon tattoo when she's older.  Please google the Semi-Colon project as well as To Write Love on Her Arms.  Both are about Suicide Prevention.  As you are the author of  your life, you have the choice to end your life with a period, or to continue your story and your journey with a semi-colon.  Mine has fought to keep going. Her story isn't complete.  

Every morning I tell her to "Be the Light".  We're called as Christians to Love God and to Love Others.  My Super-hero uses her story to help others, to bring this illness to light, and to break the societal barriers of mental illness.  I was once told by a very wise friend concerning another very painful life experience that her only prayer was that if she had to go through this experience that God would use her to help other people.  My prayer is the same.  If you're out there and going through this, you're not alone and life can and will get better.  

Choose to keep going.  Reach out to someone for help.  You are loved and appreciated.  

Your story isn't finished. 

Resources:

www.projectsemicolon.org

www.take5tosavelives.org

https://twloha.com