One of my heroes

Even though posts here have been sparse over the past month, I have actually been writing and working through past blog posts I’ve written in and organizing them into my outline. If this is your first time here, you need to read this post to understand what I’m writing about.

One topic I worked on was about one of our heroes. Yolanda. She’ll be so embarrassed if or when she reads this, but she is one strong, classy lady.

Her love and dedication to Allie has been God's gift to us. Nobody has been a bigger help to us.

Yolanda is Allie's paternal grandmother.

She is a friend that we have a unique bond with because we all want things to be back the way they were when Allie was a healthy little baby full of wonder about the new world she had been born into. This was before she learned that the world had fallen from grace and is broken.

Yolanda is broken like we are and that binds us together. In spite of this, she always encourages Susan and I. She constantly affirms us. Encouragement turns the tide. Words of encouragement don’t come naturally. Otherwise the Bible wouldn’t instruct us to encourage one another. It wouldn’t have to if it came naturally.

Encouraging people takes putting others first. That’s something else that doesn’t come naturally. Talking about one’s self and putting one’s self first comes naturally. Encouragement, however, changes the course of somebody else’s life.

Allie shrieks with joy when Yolanda walks into the house. She goes nuts kicking her feet and yelling happily. Allie could be in the worst mood, but Yolanda changes things the instant when she brings her grace and classiness into the room.

Life isn't fair but Yolanda doesn't complain. She makes it a point to be a blessing to those around her proving that the best way to overcome adversity is to put others before yourself. She has done that with Allie and Susan and me demonstrating goodness that must be mentioned.

When I need a lesson in classy, I go to Yolanda.

When it won’t stop

I don’t know anybody that can bear the uncontrollable crying of a baby. When the crying doesn’t stop, frustration, stress and anger are added to a sense of feeling trapped. How do you make it stop?

Crying babies are what trigger most events of inflicted brain trauma or shaken baby syndrome. 65% to 90% of offenders are males. Usually the father or mother's boyfriend. The men are usually in their early twenties.

Most of the children that are victims of shaken baby syndrome are boys and live in families that are at or below the poverty line.

Inflicted brain trauma is caused by direct blows to the head, dropping or throwing a child, and shaking a child.

Head trauma is the leading cause of death in child abuse cases in the United States.

The majority of victims of shaken baby syndrome are under a year old. They average from 3 to 8 months old.

At first, when someone resorts to shaking a baby to get her to stop crying, she cries more. But then stops as her brain is damaged from the violent shaking motion.

The force of shaking a baby causes the child's head to rotate uncontrollably on the neck because neck and shoulder muscles are not developed enough to provide any kind of support. Violent jerking motions make the brain pitch back and forth inside the skull bursting blood vessels and tearing brain tissue.

After the shaking stops, the brain swells compressing the injured tissue and damaged blood vessels further.

Here are some effects:

• partial or total blindness
• hearing loss
• seizures
• developmental delays
• impaired intellect
• speech and learning difficulties
• problems with memory and attention
• severe mental retardation
• cerebral palsy

Sometimes a child that has been shaken looks normal. Symptoms may not be evident until the child enters school system where behavioral issues or learning disabilities become more observable by teachers and other learning professionals.

Development and education are hindered severely in the child that has most of the symptoms on the list. Language, vision, balance, motor skills, and coordination are all affected in a brain injured child. Intense physical and occupational therapy are required to help the affected child develop normal skills.

SBS is often fatal and causes sever brain damage and lifelong disabilities. My daughter is effected by most of the symptoms on the list. She has her hearing and does not have sever mental retardation.

I had a conversation with a friend the other day that asked me if I was, as a Christian, willing to extend forgiveness to the violent offender who inflicted shaken baby syndrome on her.

I’ve written about forgiveness in several places here. I admit that forgiveness has become a concept I can barely grasp. Allie has a lifelong disability and the one who did this to her is all ready out on the street and has most of his life back.

I’ll be honest with you. Sometimes I daydream about violence and vengeance. Other times I pray for this person and ask God to work in his life. I can’t imagine being him. He lives with the knowledge that he destroyed a little girl’s entire life. How do you come back from that?

Forgiveness from me would be a small thing, I think. I wonder how much it would really change things for the guy. With God all things are possible. This knowledge is the only thing that can make things better for the guy and this is something I want for the guy mainly because I can’t imagine what it would be like to live without hope.

Forgiveness is the only way to get to hope. You want it? Do something about it.

Heroic Motherhood

Susan is the biggest trooper. She’s embraced parenting Allie and held on with a relentless, unyielding grip. It’s more than motherly instinct. It’s mission. Between the two of us, she has most deeply recognized that God picked us for this task. That being selected by God for this mission at this time in our lives is a calling. Our calling. That God demonstrated His wisdom throughout our lives by preparing us for this moment time so we can be Allie's parents. 

Susan loves being the mom of a little girl again even if it’s the hardest thing that has ever happened. I always hear her say to Allie, “I love being your mommy."

Our Story on Video

Our story played on screens all across Calvary Chapel Fort Lauderdale’s seven regional campuses this weekend.

The Charming and Beautiful Susan, Allie and I were privileged to work with the amazing video production team at Calvary.

Enjoy this video and let me know what you thought of it.

Helpless is the New Normal

Sometimes there's a warning. Spasmodic muscle activity, exaggerated startling at sudden noises, and panic are signs that a epileptic seizure is imminent. People who have seizures say that before one hits, a nausea-like sensation starts in the stomach then rises in waves through the chest and head. Sometimes consciousness and awareness are affected, sometimes not.

Sometimes there is no warning. Allie's little body seizes suddenly and violently in the dead of night or during school or at play. She’s been having seizures for over five years – ever since she emerged from a coma in a San Francisco pediatric intensive care unit.

Allie has brain damage so seizures are a part of life. An assault against her at ten months of age resulted in an oxygen deprived brain and coma that lasted ten days. She emerged from the coma as a quadriplegic with cerebral palsy. Since then, she's had seizures.

We’ve tried at least six different medicines to manage Allie's seizures, but we haven't had much luck. She used to have about one seizure a month. Now she has them in clusters of three in an eight hour period just about every three days.

There is nothing like the helplessness you feel when your child is having a seizure. We used to panic. Now we pray and provide as much comfort as we can. We let her know that we are there with her. We just say, "It's okay. It's okay, honey," over and over.

But it really isn’t okay. You want to give any solace you can to your child, but, actually, you are out of control and are tempted to totally lose it – you wish, sometimes, you could give up and let go. You just want to totally give in to the nervous breakdown lurking just around the corner. But you are here for your child and your spouse and you're bringing whatever comfort you can. You walk through it. You hold their hands. You pray. You go through it and when it's over, you just rock her and let her rest and maybe fall asleep on you. That's what you do. That’s your life now.

This is our normal.

Sometimes, we have company over. In the middle of dessert, out of nowhere, Allie shrieks as a seizure takes hold of her. Our poor guests are shocked, speechless. To them, this is not normal. It's terrifying.

Our normal is someone else's terror.

One of us, usually Susan, comforts Allie, and I comfort the company.

The Shelf life of a Twinkie

Twinkies are an interesting compound. People have been having fun poking fun at them for years. Scientists have been overheard saying that wrapped up and left in the dark untouched, a twinkie can last 47 years. Maybe longer. 

Bitterness has the shelflife of a Twinkie.

This is a blog post I wrote at the beginning of our ordeal in Eureka, Ca. 

I just got Allie to sleep. Every night for the past week, Allie works herself into a frenzy. Picture a little baby that pinches his little finger or bumps his little head. The child panics and mom hugs the little one and in a few minutes the baby is comforted. Quiet. 

Now picture the same child unable to be consoled for hours; screaming and huffing and puffing for six or seven hours every night. It transforms the charming and beautiful Susan into a frazzled wreck. And me, well I'm emotionally drained and collapse physically exhausted into bed every night. I wake up every day wondering if it will get any better. 

Will this change or is this going to be my life? 

When this first happened to Allie, I had an attitude and posture of forgiveness and reconciliation toward the young man that hurt her. But now, it seems like I have to forgive him all over again several times a day. I ain't got it in me. 

I'm motivated to do a study on biblical forgiveness. I've already outlined it. I need to make an adjustment in my thinking. My theology isn't working for me these days. If I follow through with this study, I'll let you know how the Spirit is applying truth to my life. 

Please don't stop praying for us. 

Paul got our of prison last fall. I don't think this could be a story if he just stayed in prison and we lived happily ever after. How would we actually have the chance to experience extending forgiveness.

I don't think I've experienced it yet. I don't know if there is anything to feel. Maybe you just think forgiveness. 

I know what it's like to get forgiveness. And I know what it's like to give little forgiveness. But can I do big forgiveness?

Holding on to unforgiveness makes you bitter. I know that. It stunts the flow of good, kingdom building energy. There's only one time that we can give forgiveness. That comes after we've been wronged. If we never get wronged, then we're never able to act toward others the way God acts toward us; extending full forgiveness for trespasses committed against Him.

Should I be an agent of God's goodness, or should I get bitter? Can I hold out longer than a Twinkie?

She Laughs

My wife is so beautiful when she laughs. That’s why I married her. She laughs so easily. After all these years, I can still make her laugh.

We’ve been together for a long time. And we still make each other laugh every day. Even on our most difficult days, she always finds a reason to laugh.

She is a sweet spirit.

Susan almost never cries. The past seven years of our marriage have been the most taxing and the times she cries have almost always been my fault. But when circumstances are tough, she doesn’t cry. She rolls up her sleeves and gets to work. And she still finds a reason to laugh.

She's tough and she's clever and she never, ever backs down. Susan keeps me alive and gives me a reason to work hard. I live to make her happy. When I can't make her happy, my world is totally off balance.

Susan and I are working our way through our new lives as the parents of a special needs child. Allie is our biological granddaughter, born perfectly normal and healthy. At 10 months old, her father shook her and squeezed her. She stopped breathing. She was resuscitated by emergency responders but remained in a coma for ten days. She emerged from the coma slowly and painfully with severe brain damage and disabilities.

Parenting a special needs child has tested our marriage beyond what we thought it could bear. At times, both of us wanted to walk away. At least I did. But this came as no surprise. We know each other. That is the most valuable commodity in a marriage. I know Susan and she knows me.

We went into this this with a strong marriage and our marriage continues to strengthen. Here’s the reason why: we can talk about anything. I can trust my wife with anything. There is no place that I can be more vulnerable, more real, or more spiritual than with Susan. She has my back.

Our defense together was strong as we began our twenty-first year of marriage as new parents. I couldn't imagine going into this with a weaker marriage or with a different woman. We've bonded through some tough times in the first twenty years we'd been together. We would need all the strength and familiarity we’ve built with one another.

The test our marriage went through did not reveal anything about the other that we didn't already know. It would only bring out of each of us at a steady and regular flow the junk that didn't usually come out very often. I give her no less than one hundred percent of myself. She doesn’t deserve a slacker. She likes to be challenged and she challenges me to be the best man I can be.

That’s why I try so hard to make her laugh.