Kourtney’s Blog

Dear Friends,

We wanted to give you an update on Joseph. Last Tuesday morning was our most recent appointment. We are more encouraged than we have ever been about his health. We LOVE our team at National Jewish. Our primary doctor is from Germany, and our secondary doc is from China. Our nurse is a kind, older American woman. What are the odds were that God would give us German woman and Chinese man at a Jewish hospital to help us find answers for Joseph? We  love their countries and love that they are helping us.

Here’s the summary. I would happy to provide more details if you have further questions.

LUNGS:

1. His lung function numbers have improved since we arrived. He was first tested on November 17th. Fully medicated, he is breathing within normal ranges. They cut his medication in half as of Tuesday night to see how he does.
2. His next asthma appointment is March 9^th.  They are going to test him with and without medication.
3. They are going to do a test in March that will test his overall lung health.  They will irritate his lungs and see how he responds.  The test that they did on Tuesday and in November is a very detailed measure of the amount of air that he can blow out.

GROWTH:

4. He has grown 1.5 cm since we arrived. (We are saying 1 cm to be conservative, but they use a very high tech device to measure him, and it showed 1.5 cm)

GASTROENTEROLOGY:

5. It looks there is a high possibility that he has am auto immune disease called Celiac Disease.  This would explain his growth issues, GERD, tingling extremities, irritability, stomach pain, etc…Rich’s father has dealt with similar issues throughout his life and recently began a gluten-free diet. He has been pain-free abdominally for the first time in his life.
6. The reason we haven’t seriously considered this before is that CD is the #1 under-diagnosed genetic condition in the US. It takes the average person 9-11 years to get diagnosed. 10-30% of folks with CD have really overt symptoms that are blatantly life-threatening, but the majority live below the water line–living with chronic, but seemingly manageable issues, or slowly deteriorating and eventually having severe issues.
7. The gold standard test for Celiac Disease is a biopsy of the small intestine.  Since Joseph has had so many procedures and this one would again require general anesthetic, we agreed with the doctors that we would remove gluten from his diet to see if his symptoms improve.  Because there is a significantly greater chance of having Celiac Disease if you have a family member with it and symptoms are often silent, it is also possible that Rich, Rich, and David could have it.  So, as of yesterday, our entire family has embarked on a G-free diet (Gluten-free). This is not for the faint-hearted, but since we are used to reading labels for milk ingredients, we aren’t totally freaking out by the learning curve.
8. The great news about CD is that removing gluten from the diet is the only treatment that there is. Once gluten is removed, the small intestine begins to repair itself and body starts absorbing nutrients again. In children it can take as little as 3-6 months to see a remarkable difference. I read one author who said that most people with a life-threatening illness would be thrilled for the doctor to tell them that the only thing that they need to do is to remove one ingredient, albeit an ingredient that is extremely prevalent, and their body would heal. This has deeply encouraged me and shaped my attitude about this potential blessing. We would honestly be so thankful if he has Celiac Disease as this would explain SO many things and hopefully prevent the need for growth hormone therapy.

FUTURE:

9. We have an appointment with a Gastroenterologist at the end of February (1^st available appointment at Children’s Hospital)
10. We have our next appointment at National Jewish on March 9^th.
11. We have an appointment for a second opinion with the Endocrinologist on March 24^th.
12. The six month plan from our doctor is that she would like to figure out for sure if he has Celiac Disease and if not, what is going on with his GI system, get his lungs in the best shape possible, and make a final decision on whether or not he needs growth hormone therapy. Then she would like for us to return to Orlando and see how he does in the fall with his breathing. Obviously, it looks like he is thriving here lung-wise and it very much points to the humidity in terms of his asthma. However, her hope (and ours) is that by addressing the other issues, it would improve his asthma, and he would be able to live in Orlando, Denver, or wherever God might take him in the future.

We are greatly rejoicing. I wept on Tuesday night as I was shopping for Gluten-free food in Whole Foods and getting Joseph’s lower-dose Asthma medication at Walgreens. I feel like we have been fighting for our little guy for so long, and now we have tracks to run on. Thank you for walking through this season with us. David and Rich are doing really well. All three boys start basketball tomorrow morning and will be Jr. Nuggets through the local YMCA. I am sure that Rich’s Facebook page will be flooded with proud daddy pics by noon!

 Blessings,

 Kourtney

Since I write our families’ monthly newsletter, I love reading Christmas letters in December.  Here’s my favorite for 2009:

The Zserdin’s list of things broken, destroyed, or used in a
manner not originally intended. 2009 Edition

1 Pair of eyebrows - Zach shaved his off in April.

1 Pan of cooked potatoes- Found later in the boys’ dresser drawer.

1 Road bike - Mike had a wreck during a race. He wants to make sure you know it wasn’t his fault.

1 Front porch post - Tracy backed into it coming out of the garage.

1 Large recycle dumpster - Zach used it as a clubhouse during a music recital after excusing himself for a bathroom break.
1 Office rug - Lit on fire during a birthday party/tissue paper debacle.
Bedtime - We wrote a note giving bedtime instructions to the sitter. They counterfeit the original note changing bedtime from 8pm to 10pm (This one is my favorite).
1 Old, beloved friend - Walking into the playroom one day, this is how I (Tracy) found my Grover doll. I asked Jake what the story was. He looked at me sideways and chuckled a malicious reply: “He, he, he…the death chamber.”

Best Quotes

Zach: “Mom, can I mow the lawn? The tractor and I need some alone time.”

Jake: “Mom, is today the day I can clean your tub?” Tracy: “Yes Jake, today is that day.”

While listening to a song on the radio that said, “He rose, say it’s Jesus” Zach asked, “Did that song just say: stinky cheese breath?”

Mike asked Jakey why he likes GoFrett, his favorite cartoon character, so much. He said, “Because he is such a great actor.”

Recently, Mike had a barista tell him that he could be William Shatner’s son. Earlier in the year another one told him he looks like Kevin Spacey. Apparently he spends too
much time at Starbucks. Or, they are milking him for better tips. Mike was uninspired by William Shatner, and didn’t know who Kevin Spacey was. They didn’t help their cause.

God obviously knew what he was doing when he put our crazy bunch together.
Praying that God will meet you right where you are this holiday season. He isn’t afraid.

Love,
Mike, Tracy, Zach & Jake

A few weeks ago, we met with our doctor at National Jewish for the first time. She is a kind, thorough, German woman who clearly knows her stuff. As we dove deeper into Joseph’s medical history, she looked up at me at one point and very gently but seriously said, “I think that your son has probably been in pain his whole life.” It felt like a blow to the gut, but in the midst of moving in and caring for our family, I haven’t truly processed what she said. I tucked her words away, but today, like a tidal wave, they rose to the surface.

After reading the story of Susannah Baker, another mom with a child struggling with health issues, I’ve let myself go there for the first time…Remembering the early years with Joseph when he was often inconsolable…Remembering how hard it was to figure out what was going on and clearly being so far off from what was really the issue. Remembering the unkind words of well-meaning but also clueless people who encouraged us to spank him and to let him “cry it out”. Remembering the nights I slept close to make sure that he was breathing well…Remembering the moments of utter frustration when nothing that I did would sooth him or meet his needs…Remembering the sweet respites when he was pain and medicine free, and we saw bigger glimpses of who he really is…Remembering the dashed hope when we had to return to higher doses of medication that wasn’t even doing what he needed…

I clearly haven’t made much progress in my processing. The truth is that this post is my maiden voyage. But I am inspired by the words that I read last night by Sue Monk Kidd

“When we share our inner stories, we allow others to enter our lives and partake of our deepest truths. We discover that we share the same joys and tragedies, the same ambiguities and struggles…For who has not come upon a season when the water of the soul is disturbed? And does not God meet each of us as we brave the swirling dark in search of wholeness. God, the sublime storyteller, calls us into the passion of telling our tale. But creating personal spiritual stories is an act of soul-making that does not happen automatically. It comes only as we risk stepping into the chaos of our lives and naming the angels that inhabit the shadows. It comes as we give expression to our struggle for individual meaning, identity, and truth, as we wrestle with angels, both light and dark, and celebrate the places where God stirs. In the crucible of story we become artists of meaning. There we meet God most surely.”

Thank you Susanna Baker for sharing your story. I have no idea who you are or where you and Lillian live, but I thank God for you tonight.

We took our eldest daughter, Lillian, to the doctor today.  Lillian is only 3 ½ years old, yet in her short, three years of life, she has been in her fair share of doctors’ offices.  Thankfully, she has never had any sort of life-threatening illness, but the Lord seems to use medical ailments in her life to draw her to Himself and to continually remind my husband and me that Lillian does not belong to us, but to Him. 
 
So today’s visit was no different.  In one way, it was routine.  I knew what to pack in the medium-sized canvas bag I always take to Lillian’s doctor visits.  It had its fair share of pictures for her to color, books for us to read, and snacks for us to share during the invariable wait that lay ahead.  And, as always, Lillian was a champ.  She was polite and cooperative with the doctor, made each of the nurses smile, and left with a lollipop in one hand and her daddy’s hand in the other.
 
Yet the diagnosis was different.  In the past, we have received news about Lillian concerning her lungs, her heart, and her brain.  Today the diagnosis concerned her hearing.  Off and on, for the past several months, my husband and I have wondered if Lillian’s hearing was impaired or if it was only a chronic case of three-year-old “selective hearing.”  But the doctor confirmed that Lillian has fluid build-up in her inner-ear, which causes her to hear the world around her as if two fingers were stuffed into each side of her head.  She doesn’t hear soft sounds, and at times it is difficult for her to hear loud sounds.  And what we, in the past, have thought was just an ability unique to her personality to focus well on the task at hand could very well be a by-product of her inability to hear.  She has learned to shut off the world without and retreat within, to a place she can hear.
 
Thankfully, Lillian’s hearing problem is easily fixed.  With minor surgery, the doctor will drain the fluid, place tubes in her ears, and remove her adenoids (part of the lymph node system), and Lillian’s hearing should be as good as new in no time.
 
Yet as I pulled home into the driveway, unloaded the canvas bag, and tucked Lillian into her bed for her nap, I felt an ache tugging at the edges of my thankfulness.  I remembered the countless times she asked me, “Mommy, please turn the music up,” and my saying, “No, Lillian, you can hear the music; it is loud enough.” I recalled my frustration at having to repeat directions four or five times, the last time with impatience in my tone and frustration in my eyes.  And I could hear myself calling her name for the tenth time when her back was turned to me, inevitably ending in me saying in a rising tone, “Lillian!  LISTEN to me!” when all the time she could not hear what I was saying. 
 
I remembered all of these things, and the ache in my heart made its way to tears in my eyes as I reflected upon all the ways my Heavenly Father has responded to the deafness in my heart through the years.  He never shows frustration and impatience when I do not listen. He does not shout at me, or turn away from me, or give up on me.  He stands at the door and gently knocks until I can hear. And when the hurt or pain of life or the sorrow and consequences of sin have deafened my ears to His Voice, He calls my name in love until I respond once again.
 
My only response was, and is, “Thank You.  Thank You for being the Parent who always loves, always protects, always hopes, always forgives, always patiently understands.  Forgive me for all of the ways I have hurt Lillian and You because I have not been willing to follow Your example.”
 
So I am thankful. Thankful for doctors who are willing to use their God-given knowledge and skills to heal.  Thankful for easy access to the Medical Center and for the vast array of doctors and specialists there.  I am thankful for a child who sweetly responds to all of the ways God has chosen to draw her to Himself.  I am thankful for my husband who never misses an appointment and never fails to first  fall to his knees, and then to comfort, console, and yet be an immovable rock all at the same time.  And I am thankful for my God who loves my child enough to place His mark and His Hand upon her.  For my God who is faithful to remind us that Lillian is His, not ours.  And for my God who patiently and lovingly parents me, even when, and especially when, I cannot hear.
 

“Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless his holy name! Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits, who forgives all your iniquity, who heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from the pit, who crowns you with steadfast love and mercy, who satisfies you with good so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s.”  Psalm 103:1-5

As you might know, we have been wrestling with health issues with Joseph since he was about 22 months old, battling his asthma very consistently. We learned last spring that he wasn’t growing as he should be, and he failed each of six Growth Hormone Stimulation tests. We know that it’s not Cystic Fibrosis, allergies, or a brain tumor as these were ruled out. However, asthma that is not well controlled and/or steroid use are potential causes for growth problems. We also have some strong genetic factors related to his asthma and growth issues that seem to be playing a role. 

This summer Joseph grew 3 cm while we were serving in Colorado and had a huge respite from his typical asthma issues. While this could be totally coincidental, our doctor feels that there is a strong possibility that his asthma is exacerbated by humidity, and we’ve spent most of his life in very humid places (France, Florida, Texas, and Mexico). Consequently, our Pediatric Pulmonologist recommended that we spend the winter and spring in Colorado to see if he does as well in Colorado during the cold, winter months as he did in the summer. 

We received permission from our boss, Ken Cochrum, Vice President of Campus Ministries for CCC, to spend the winter in Denver. Almost immediately, things fell into place. We found a wonderful Christian family to rent our furnished home in Orlando for six months.  We were given an appointment almost immediately at National Jewish Hospital in Denver (one of, if not the top respiratory hospitals in the world). We have dear friends who direct a Classical Conversations group in Denver so the boys will continue their schooling with little interruption. God continued to open doors to lead us to spend six months in Colorado to get to the bottom of Joseph’s health issues.  Our prayer is that we can reduce his steroid use, increase his lung function, prevent lung scarring, and hopefully prevent the use of Growth Hormone Therapy unless absolutely necessary. 

I will be continuing my ministry from Denver. Our team is hosting our annual meeting with the main campus ministry leaders from around the world in Orlando this year, and I will return to Orlando the first week of December to participate. I will return most months for our team strategy meetings, and I can easily do my international travel out of DIA. The great thing about my role is that I can truly do my job from anywhere. I look forward to continuing to engage with ministry leaders globally as we seek to help grow student led movements everywhere…especially virtually!Thank you for your prayers and support of us during this journey. We thank God for your partnership with our family in the wonderful ministry that God has called us to. If you have any questions, please feel free to email or call. 

Blessings, Rich (and Kourtney)

I am cleaning out my closets in anticipation of another family enjoying our home this winter.  I must admit that I have been tempted to go Ebay, Consignment Store, Garage Sale crazy.  These are precious things that we’ve taken good care of, and although we don’t need them anymore, making some extra money right now wouldn’t be a bad idea.  But the thought keeps creeping in to give it away–to the friend who still can wear the Ann Taylor suit that I can’t fit into right now–to Rachel soon to have her first son–to my fellow homeschooler who might need some new curriculum that we aren’t using.  Please don’t hear me as saying that it’s wrong to do Ebay, Consignment Stores, or Garage Sales. Quite frankly, if I had a little more discretionary time to sort right now, I might list a few things myself.  But I just read an article from one of my favorite authors, and I’ve decided that since I don’t have a lot of discretionary time or cash right now, I am going to live like a millionaire with discretionary giving.  Want to join me?  Let me know if you need something.  It just might be in a little box in my garage waiting for you.

Recessionary spending

October 21, 2009
 

Things are tight. They are at my house, and I suspect they might be at some of yours, too. And when we’re not sure of our resources, we tend to draw back - to pull in. We hoard instead of spending. We ask ourselves, “Do I really need that now?’ or “Do I really need that, ever?” These are good questions and worth asking whether we are in a recession or not. But a voice in my head keeps calling out for spending, and not the kind you might imagine.

I’m hearing a line I know one of my parents must have said more than once in my growing up years, because it stuck: It doesn’t cost you anything to be kind. That’s the kind of recessionary spending I could get behind recession or no - and lately, it’s a kind of spending that has been modeled to me.

A week or so ago I sat in a Starbucks with a colleague who wanted to show me something on her laptop, but couldn’t get her wi-fi to cooperate. A fellow sitting nearby saw us struggling to connect and called over a suggestion. As we continued to try, he got up, walked over to our table, and tried it himself. Still no deal. Then he said “just a minute” and logged off his own computer so we could log on - as him! Come on now. No one does that. Turns out he was was a regional Starbucks operations manager, sitting in the store doing some paperwork. Turns out he was kind, and spent some of that kindness on us.

On a recent flight from Portland, Oregon, to Houston (3 legs, nearly 7 hours in the air and a full day of sitting, taking off and landing), I had accidently gone on a mini-fast. It never occurred to me that after a cup of oatmeal at 6 a.m. I wouldn’t be eating anything but peanuts until nearly 6 p.m. if I didn’t ”pack a lunch.” I couldn’t leave the plane, so I couldn’t eat. (Now you know what airline I was on!) On the next-to-last leg, my seatmate (who learned I’d been flying all day) reached into his briefcase as we were preparing to land at his destination, and pulled out two packages of cookies. “Here,” he said as he winked and handed them to me. “Dinner’s on me.” A little more kindness.

Yesterday I received a gift in my mailbox that took my breath away with its generosity. The postmark said it was sent from Alabama, but I’m pretty sure it originated in heaven. It was definitely recessionary spending, and I was on the slack-jawed receiving end of someone else’s kindness.

I’m seeing a pattern. Are you?

It doesn’t cost you anything to be kind. That’s what my parents taught me. And these three kind spenders have taught me a lesson, too. My new plan is to spend my way out of this recession in as many ways as I can, one crazy act of love at a time. Join me?

You’re here to be light, bringing out the God-colors in the world. God is not a secret to be kept. We’re going public with this, as public as a city on a hill. If I make you light-bearers, you don’t think I’m going to hide you under a bucket, do you? I’m putting you on a light stand. Now that I’ve put you there on a hilltop, on a light stand - shine! Keep open house; be generous with your lives. By opening up to others, you’ll prompt people to open up with God, this generous Father in heaven. (Matthew 5:15-16, The Message.)

Thanks to Heather in Hendrickville for letting me blatantly pirate most of her good Friday musings…

In between the sips of Starbucks and soul talk

listening to the boys flinging mud with their friends

making PB&Js

and again when Joseph’s fell

I kept on thinking…

How thankful I am for this life.

It’s messy

full

imperfect

even a little chaotic at times

but I’m thankful.

Grateful really

for my friend in the kitchen

laughing

talking

helping

loving each other.

Had it not been for another Good Friday long ago, I wouldn’t have these friends

this family

these people

in my life

because had it not been for that Friday

I would be mean

unloving

unlovable

uninterested in matters of the heart

too consumed with myself to enter into life with others.

In between scrubbing off mud again and again

comforting a child

watching Sharky emerge from a long nap

I kept on thinking…

About my boys

My husband boy

and my little boys

all the boys that I love.

It’s odd how one moment your hands can be wiping mud from a bucket

and then the next moment your mind can fly off

across oceans and across the street

and look into the faces of the people who mean the most to you.

One minute you’re swirling peanut butter

The next minute your heart can feel so much love

that you think it might pop

Thankful.

Grateful really

for my family

my home

my Rich

my three sons

my rescued dog

my soul friends.

Had it not been for another Good Friday long ago, I wouldn’t have these boys to love

this family

these people

in my life

because had it not been for that Friday

I wouldn’t be busily making sandwiches and searching for one more juice box

imagining my sons with smiles on their faces Easter morning

and mud in their hair today.

I’d be busy being foolish

destroying

my home

and everyone in it.

Had it not been for another good Friday long ago, I would be lost

clamoring

left

to sit in hopelessness

my mounds of sin

piles

really

aching for more meaning from this life

knowing there was more

living as a slave

to myself.

I’d rather think of anything

than who I’d be apart from that Friday.

In between the mud and the PB&J and the soul talk

I kept on thinking

what a good Friday it is…

what a Good Friday it was.

If you’ve been in my home lately, you would know that our world is surrounded by words.  My friend Angie carved and stained me a sign (and carried it across the ocean to present it to us in France) that says “Sit long, talk much.”  On my kitchen walls are funky metal signs with the words “Pray, Bless, Dream, and Explore.”  The boys’ room contains six WWII Propaganda posters with inspirational quotes such as “Never was so much owed by so many to so few.”  Our bedroom has a carved wooden “Amore” on our bookshelf.  This is only the beginning.  I want my family to be inspired and reminded of who we are and who we belong to.  And so began my obsession with displaying words.

I think there were hints early on.  I used to read under my covers at night with a flashlight.  I frequently smuggled great books into the bathtub.  Each time we travel, I carry no less than 10 books with me.  We have 4 bookshelves in our bedroom.  They bring me great joy.

I just read a great article by my friend Sharon Hersh.  I wanted to give you the opportunity to read it to.  It’s about words and The Word…Here it is…

I’ve been thinking a lot about resolutions.  It’s hard not to when the new year rolls around.  It really does seem like the perfect time to resolve to take better care of myself, try something new, or clean out something old.  If you watch a little television you can get a lot of ideas about better abs, more organized closets, and finding the secret to eternal youth.  I have to admit I’ve been tempted to order Crunchless Abs, Facelift in a Jar, or the Miracle Hanger.  And then words from past New Years interrupt my daydreams of thin, young, organized, and fabulous!

I recall countless resolutions to exercise more, eat better, read my Bible, and floss daily.  I read in a women’s magazine recently (one that suggested several diets and ways to organize your life) that over 60% of Americans do not make resolutions, and of the 40% who do, only 5% keep them.  Perhaps what we’re discovering is that speaking words of promise (even if just to ourselves) and breaking them does more damage to our souls than carbohydrates and messy closets.

New Year’s Day is a profound reminder that words matter.  In fact, words matter so much that God entered the world as Word.  “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God” (John 1:1).  From the beginning God demonstrates that it is the word that calls things into existence, calls things by name, and identifies what is most true.  “By the word of the Lord were the heavens made, and all the host of them by the breath of His mouth” (Psalms 33:6).   I love the image the philosopher Aristophenes uses to describe the creative power of words, “By words the mind is winged.”  I can recall words that people have spoken to me that have reminded me of who I am — that have created life:

*   My mother telling me when I was seven years-old, “Sharon, you are special.”  When I’m feeling invisible and less than ordinary, I still remember her words.
*   A professor in graduate school scrawling across the top of a paper, “You must write.”  When I am feeling out of words and foolish for thinking I could write anything, his words pull me back to writing.
*   A five-year-old boy staring at my feet and exclaiming, “Miss Sharon, your toenails look pretty.”  I was teaching children’s church, overwhelmed with responsibilities, dripping with sweat from the hot summer and the chaos of twenty-eight children in my basement for house church, and his words were like a cool drink that energized me to keep going.

There is a Chinese proverb that reads, “The beginning of wisdom is calling things by their right name.”  I pray that this new year I can use words to create life.

Words also overcome evil.  The Word explained, “I come not to judge, but to save the world” (John 12:47).  I have certainly experienced words of judgment and condemnation that become like ulcers that hurt, erode faith, hope, and love, and separate from others.  I have used words that I am certain have hurt others as well.  A good word brings light to the soul.  Our words are to reflect the Logos (the Word) who is Light and Life.   I can easily remember good words that have brought light into my life:

*  Words in books have often been the timely words that have saved me.   Brennan Manning’s words in Ragamuffin Gospel have been the lamps along my path many times: “The gospel of grace calls out, Nothing can ever separate you from the love of God made visible in Christ Jesus our Lord.  You must be convinced of this, trust, and never forget to remember.  Everything else will pass away, but the love of Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever.  Faith will become vision, hope will become possession, but the love of Jesus Christ that is stronger than death endures forever.  In the end, it is the one thing you can hang onto.”
*My son was only six years-old (he had just knocked over a lamp while playing Power Rangers in the living room) when he said words that I have hung on to during the inevitable ups and downs of family life: “Mom, in our family we always forgive each other, right?”
*A friend recently spoke words of light during a time of darkness, “Sharon, I trust your journey.”  Her simple sentence said more about faith, hope, and love than volumes of words written on the subjects.

I pray that I can use words during the months ahead to bring light into the lives of others.

Words are eternal.  Edward Thorndike wrote, “Colors fade, temples crumble, empires fade, but wise words endure.”  Our words don’t disappear.  I can recall words that were said to me that I will never forget:

*I had a seventh-grade history teacher who heard my sullen, sarcastic, middle-school vocabulary and advised me, “You will catch a lot more flies with honey than you will with vinegar.”  I don’t remember his name, but I’ll never forget his words.  I think of them when I am exasperated with a store clerk, mad at my children, or frustrated with someone on the other end of the telephone.
*My mom gave me advice that I continue to pass on to other young mothers, “Sharon, babies cry. (I was sleep-deprived and desperate for my crying baby to stop crying to prove that I was a good mother.)  Your daughter doesn’t need to you to be perfect.  She just needs you to love her.”
*There is seldom a night that I go to sleep that I don’t remember the words of the Eternal Word, “Do not be afraid.  I have redeemed you.  I have called you by name and you are mine.  The mountains may be moved.  The hills may be shaken.  But my love for you will never be moved, and my covenant of peace with you cannot be shaken” (The Prophet Isaiah).

I resolve in the year ahead to remember that words matter.  And yet in the midst of resolving I remember the words of Oliver Wendell Holmes, “Language is a solemn thing: it grows out of life . . . out of its agonies and ecstasies, its wants and weariness.  Every language is a temple in which the soul of those who speak it is enshrined.”  My words will not create, overcome evil, and matter for eternity unless I am enshrined in the Creative, Good, and Eternal Word.  My deepest prayer is that my words will reflect where my soul finds nourishment — from The Word.

“The Word became flesh and blood and moved into the neighborhood.  We saw the glory with our own eyes, the one-of-a-kind glory, like Father, like Son, generous inside and out, true from start to finish . . . . We all live off his generous bounty, gift after gift after gift. . . . This one-of-a-kind God-Expression, who exists at the heart of the Father, has made him plain as day.”  (John 1)

I receive a weekly blog posting from an author I enjoy.  This week she turned 40 and in her birthday blog mentioned that she’s “learned to love her scars”.  I stopped and reread.  Her words penetrated.

I have a weird interest in scars.  I think they are beautiful.  I want to know the story behind them.  On a heart level, I love delving into scars there too.  I think they can make people beautiful.  I want to know the story behind them.  I want to see how God surfaces in the story.

I spent part of tonight saying farewell to one of my favorite college freshmen.  She’s getting on a plane tomorrow morning to head back to university after her first big Christmas break.  She’s so much more mature than I was at her age.  She lives her life connected to God.  She is learning to live more connected to her own heart.  She is learning to love her scars.

Sometimes when I am with students–really listening to their hearts, it takes me back to moments in a different place in time.  Sometimes it is glorious, but sometimes it is painful.  I am reminded of bad decisions I made in high school or college, of not seeing my place in the bigger story, of hurting someone, or of choosing ’second things’.  It used to paralyze me, but with the benefit of time, a God who hasn’t given up on me, and a wonderful husband who is far more than who I could have ever dreamed of sharing my life with, I am learning to embrace the beautiful mess that is me.  It’s been a long road, but I’ve learned to love my scars.  It’s scary to write, but I even occasionally have glimpses of what it would be like to welcome future scars–knowing that they remind me of how much I need God and long to live my life really connected to Christ and to the special people that He’s allowing me to share this journey with.

Christmas is officially “over” by commercial standards. Yesterday while doing some returns I saw cute Valentine’s ‘must haves’ prominently displayed.  True confession: I am not quite ready to let go of the season.  Reality: I don’t have to.  Thankfully, we are going to celebrate Epiphany at our wonderful church and continue to ponder the mystery of Christ’s birth and our place in the story.  My friend Sarah sent me a beautiful poem in my Christmas card.  I thought I would share it:

A stable lamp is lighted,

Whose glow shall wake the sky;

The stars shall bend their voices,

And every stone shall cry.

And every stone shall cry.

And straw like gold shall shine;

A barn shall harbor heaven.

A stall become a shrine.

-Richard Wilbur

We had a wonderful Christmas with my parents and a post-Christmas trip to the beach with my parents and sister.  The big boys surfed for the first time, and loved it!  I’ll post pictures as soon as I receive them.

This month we wrote in our newsletter about the opportunity that we’ve had to be involved reaching out to students who are struggling with pornography addiction via Everystudent.com.  Clint Clark, a counselor and support group leader in Colorado, provided the following list of resources for any of our readers who might share a similar struggle and want help.

SEXUAL ADDICTION RESOURCES

False Intimacy: Understanding the Struggle of Sexual Addiction, Harry
Schaumburg, NavPress, (1997).
Strength in Weakness: Healing Sexual and Relational Brokenness, Andrew
Comiskey, Intervarsity Press, (2003).
Out of the Shadows, Patrick Carnes, CompCare Publishing, (1988).
Don’t Call It Love, Patrick Carnes, Bantam (1991).
In the Shadows of the Net: Breaking Free of Compulsive Online Sexual Behavior,
Patrick Carnes, Hazelden Publishing & Educational Services ,(2001)
Addiction and Grace: Love and Spirituality in the Healing of Addictions, Gerald
May, Harper Collins, (1988).
No Stones: Women Redeemed from Sexual Shame, by Marnie C. Ferree, Xulon
Press, (2002).
Women, Sex, and Addiction: A Search for Love and Power, Charlotte Kasl,
Harper, (1990).
Where Do I Go From Here? Annette Comiskey, www.desertstream.org
Beauty and the Breach: Liberating Marriage from Sexual and Relational Sin,
Andrew Comiskey, www.desertstream.org.
Life Ministries, www.freedomeveryday.org, support group materials for men,
women, young men and spouses. Xulon Press.

SEXUAL ADDICTION RESOURCES
Practical Resources
Internet Filters and Blocks
www.bsafehome.com
www.cybersitter.com
www.cyberpatrol.com
Accountability Software
www.covenanteyes.com
www.x3church.com/x3watch/
Therapeutic and Support Resources
Support
Sexaholics Anonymous – www.sa.org
Celebrate Recovery - www.celebraterecovery.com
Sex and Love Addicts Anonymous - www.slaafws.org
Sex Addicts Anonymous - www.saa-recovery.org
S-Anon - www.sanon.org; Support for those affected by someone else’s
sexual behavior
Recovering Couples Anonymous - www.recovering-couples.org
Counselors
Clinton B. Clark, MA – Counselor and Support Group Facilitator; Areas
of focus: sexual compulsion/addiction, marriage counseling, sexual
abuse/trauma, individual therapy. clintclarkma@yahoo.com; 303.591.7675
Informational Resources
Designer Sex, Philip Yancey. Intervarsity Press, (2003).
The Pornography Trap: Setting Pastors and Laypersons Free from Sexual
Addiction, Mark Laaser and James Earl, Beacon Hill Press, (2002).
Faithful & True: Sexual Integirty In a Fallen World, Mark Laaser, Zondervan,
(1992).
Falling Forward: The Pursuit of Sexual Purity, Craig R. Lockwood, Desert Stream
Press, (2000).
www.clintclarkma.com