How Dyslexia is Making my Son into a Hero

"I've never seen so much crying in football." Taken by surprise that the helmet and pads did little to protect against the pain of learning to hit for the first time, my 10 year old son, Ezra, struggled to push back the tears as time after time his teammates hits took him to the ground. All the previous summer, he couldn't wait to try football. He had eagerly anticipated the first week of practice. Now, the third night in, their first night in full pads, I thought he just might quit. He came over for a water break, his face wet and red, then to my surprise, turned and went back for more. All the way home that night, he sat in bruised silence. I thought it might be his last night of football. But it wasn't. Ezra continued to go to practice, capitalized on his ability to run faster than anybody else, took hits, and grew to love the game. By the end of the season, when a kid knocked him down in practice, Ezra would jump up yelling, "let's do it again!" His coach who had "never seen so much crying in football" witnessed the littlest guy on the team inspiring the rest with encouraging words, enthusiastic pats on the back, and sheer determination and grit. Football toughened up my son, because he chose not to quit. But football didn't teach my son not to quit, his dyslexia did.

You see, every day my son is tackled by letters and words. They are a mean bunch, pushing him around and sometimes tackling him to the ground. It started in Kindergarten, when he would come home from school, head hung low mumbling, "I'm so stupid. I'm so dumb." When the school recommended he be held back, we brought him home for school and spent the next year starting back at the beginning, working at his pace, and erasing the narrative in his head that told him he couldn't learn anything. Though he made progress, he still battled those sneaky, b's d's and p's, those tricky m, n, s, l, f, h and k's, and all of the vowels. Letters slipped in where they weren't supposed to be, switched places, or disappeared mid-word. And Ezra kept fighting, but he was losing the battle. We knew he needed outside help to win this game of reading.

And then came Mrs. Edwards, the little white haired lady who first screened Ezra for dyslexia. Though we had managed to erase the narrative in Ezra's mind that he was "dumb" we hadn't been able to convince him that he was smart....until Mrs. Edwards. She looked across the desk from him and said, "When I look at your results here, I can tell that you are extremely intelligent because you have the GIFT of dyslexia" and then she went on to list for him many of the famous scientists, inventors, war heroes, actors, and film makers who are said to have had dyslexia: George Washington, Alexander Graham Bell, Leohardo DaVinci, Galileo, Thomas Edison, Albert Einstein, even Stephen Spielberg, ..... My son's face beamed, especially when she added with a twinkle, "You know, you are probably smarter than all of your brothers and sisters." But she also explained to him that with the gift and intelligence of dyslexia comes a glitch, and because of that glitch learning to read can be very difficult. It will take a LOT of determination and perseverance, but if he would work hard all of that "smartness "and intelligence could be put to great use. Ezra finally had a name for why reading was so hard for him and it allowed him to show himself grace.

That was two years ago, and I am now convinced that my son has some of the greatest perseverance on the planet. Every day he fights to read and though he has made tremendous progress, it is never easy. Sometimes it is a rough day and he wants to quit. But the next day, he apologizes for complaining and goes right back at it. He has a wonderful, amazing tutor who works with him for an hour and half every day, patiently encouraging and instructing him. She and I both see how intelligent and bright Ezra is. He makes us laugh with his vivid stories and adventures. He can recount the life stories of Abraham Lincoln, Eric Liddell, Milton Hershey, and Jacob Deshazer: a Dolittle raider and prisoner of war, in detail. He is fascinated by history and the battles of World War II. He absolutely loves learning about rocks, planets, composers and artists. He loves listening to biographies and novels. He draws detailed airplanes and aircraft carriers. He sings constantly. He builds fascinating lego homes, roads, and planes. He is intuitive. He is the first of my children to notice if I have a headache and ask me if I am feeling okay. He prays at night that God would help him not to get frustrated when learning to read is just "frustrating and crazy and doesn't make any sense." He prays every night that he would become a godly man one day. I have no doubt that this struggle he faces is working in him greater glory that he or I could ever imagine. He will be used mightily in the Kingdom of God. Some day, he will be fighting some other battle and he will refuse to quit. He will be strong and he will persevere and he will inspire others to follow his lead.  And I can't wait to watch it all play out.

Press on Ezra, my fighting hero!

A Mom's Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day

I went to sleep last night all stretched out in our big comfy bed. Now, besides me, there's a husband and two children also in the bed and another child sleeping on the floor and when I got up to fix myself some coffee, I poured Cheerios and juice for three kids first and when I snuck back to my bed to sip my coffee, I set it on the night stand and hoped no one would come and knock it over but when I grabbed my Bible, I spilled the whole cup on the carpet, a book, and a tapestry that was brought over from Turkey for us and I could tell that it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

When I poured each of my kids their second bowl of cereal, I wanted bacon, eggs, and biscuits for breakfast, but there was no one to make them and then I wanted Peanut Butter Captain Crunch, but we had none because I refuse to buy junk cereal, so I said, "will somebody please fix me some breakfast?" I said I would shrivel up without food. I said I was starving. No one even answered.

I think I'll move to Hawaii.

In the kitchen, when I cleaned up breakfast, I noticed a bad smell and ran the disposal and cleaned everything up and threw the dish towel in the washer and Ezra was crying and while changing his diaper my four year old wanted me to tie her tennis shoes. I told her she should wear the pretty red leather shoes I bought her in Branson that she never wants to wear and she said she likes her tennis shoes, and hoping to manipulate her, I said then maybe we should just throw them out  because she never wants to wear them and then my six year old says we shouldn't throw them away we should give them to somebody so we don't wast them and so then she was happy to give them away, but I said, "no."

Maybe I'll just mail the red shoes to Hawaii.

I went in the kitchen where I noticed the smell was still there and ran the disposal again and took out the trash. On the way to the garage, I stepped in some water someone had spilled and my socks got all wet and I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

And that's what it was because when I couldn't figure out how to convince Anna that the number "19" really was nineteen and not ninety, I called off school and took all the kids outside and there's where Micah decided to eat some dirt and the girls tripped over some rocks and scraped their knees. The weather was nice, but not as nice as Hawaii.

And when I put Ezra down for his nap on his belly because he likes it that way, he decides to roll onto his back and then gets upset because he can't sleep on his back and he can't roll back over and he does this repeatedly and I'm fixing soup for lunch and making the kids eat it whether they like it or not and then I don't want to wait for them to eat it because its time for their naps and I put the bowls in the refrigerator for later. And when the kids take naps, instead of cleaning or running on my treadmill, or reading, I sit like a slug on the couch, feeling sorry for myself, so when the kids get up much earlier than planned I'm still tired and grouchy and there's not Dr. Pepper in the refrigerator and I need caffeine and I tell myself I'm having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

Later, on my way to Anna's ballet class, I pick up my cell phone to call Tom to tell him about my day, and the battery is all run out and I plug it in to charge and by the time we get there it is charged and I turn it on to call Tom, but it says "no service" because we cancelled out cell phone service last week. One the way home, I can't find a paci and Ezra is crying and there's nothing I can do about it....except tell him about Hawaii.

It was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

And when I got home there was Easy Mac for dinner and I hate Easy Mac. there was something smelling by the sink and I hate smells. And there's wet towels on the floor by my night stand, and I hate wet towels. And there was whining and I hate whining. And there was yelling and I hate yelling. And the kids went to bed and I burned some bacon and forgot to switch the laundry, and found a splinter in my finger.

It has been a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

Tom says some days are like that. Even in Hawaii.

Immanuel: God with Us

"The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son,

and they will call him Immanuel, which means 'God with us'."

Matthew 1:23

Time for bed. I walked around extinguishing the Christmas tree lights, the lamps, and weary wandered towards my bedroom. Taking one last look back, I saw. The only small light left on in the room, the tiny bulb silhouetting my childhood nativity. A gentle reminder of the season's hidden mystery. God with us.

I find myself in awe as I ponder, Immanuel. God become man, flesh, and trodding earth. To some, it is just too unbelievable. To some astonishing. To me, it is both. I find myself astonished and amazed that God would come near to us. The miracle of the virgin birth brought God near to us and near to all who believe. His Spirit is God with us. God living inside of us.

God dwelling near.

I often find myself overwhelmed by this world. The trials, the suffering that I see. Jesus warned us that we would have trouble in this world. We were never promised an easy life. I am almost daily bombarded with temptations to fear. Fear of disease, suffering, terrorism, and loss.

And yet, I find comfort in knowing Immanuel, God is with us. This season we celebrate the most unbelievable, miraculous gift of God joining us in our sorrows. In our struggle. Right now, I know that he is with my four year old niece in a little hospital in Kenya with pneumonia. He is in Little Rock with friends who are watching their son struggle for life. And he is with me, as I struggle to ward off anxiety.

God came near. Immanuel. God with us. Sit and ponder those beautiful words and the precious reality that He is with you and with me.



Bah Humbug: a Grinchy Mom's Confession

In the past few days, I slowly have come to the startling and horrifying realization that.....

I don't adore Christmas.

This little revelation is not sitting well with me. I think I must be the only living breathing human being with a pulse who feels this way. And surely something is wrong with me because every normal mother cherishes the glitter of the season with her little darlings, right?

My kids wanted to get a tree for Christmas. Instead, I considered installing a festivus pole and promoting the airing of grievances. Honesty can be cleansing right? I'm still thinking about it. You think I kid...

We went to Walmart and I picked the least Christmas looking tree they had, the white winterberry tree. It looked great in the living room as you can see here.

Most of the children though it was "pretty." But oldest son's heart was broken and I couldn't leave it at that, he being our middle child and the "perfect one." Honestly, he never give us ANY trouble. He said he wakes up each morning at Christmas time and comes downstairs to see the tree and it takes his sadness away and he is just so happy and now this modern weird looking tree has ruined that." Of course, I couldn't do that to my son, so off we went to Walmart to get the $39 traditional green tree with white lights (I wouldn't spring for the colored lights, really I had to put my foot down somewhere!). We came home, set it up and decorated both trees. The cheap green one actually looked surprisingly spectacular and the kids slept under it that night as you can see here. Well, they aren't actually sleeping. I couldn't find that picture.

So why the not adoring, perhaps even "disliking" (GASP) of Christmas in my heart?

You'd think it was the shopping. But my husband announced to me tonight, that he had taken the kids Christmas lists and finished ordering all of their Christmas presents. Shopping is DONE! Talk about a good decision when I married that guy! If it were up to me, I cringe to think what my kid's Christmas might be like. Last year, on the night before Christmas, realizing I had not bought anything for the stockings, I stuffed them with canned goods. Green beans, Gravy, Rotel. Thankfully, my youngest loves diced tomatoes. I can't say that the other four were very pleased. "Mom, don't forget about the stockings this year...."

My excuse is it's hard for me when I've been across the globe and witnessed people living in poverty who are content and contrast that with the fact that we are living with our every need met and wanting so much more, I struggle to make peace with it. Trust me, I wish I could let go of that tension, but I CANNOT.

However, gift giving has also never been my love language. I prefer some quality time, an act of service, or especially some words of affirmation. I'll take that any day over a new laptop, which my husband tried to give me twice this past year, and I made him take them back. Of course, I am now typing on a new one he necessarily had to purchase when my old one finally kicked the bucket last month.

I'm not a very good gift giver or gift receiver, and that ,I think, is the problem with my grinchy Christmas outlook.

I've been mulling this over. I realized something. Even though I don't LOVE Christmas, one thing I do know is, at the CORE OF MY BEING....I LOVE JESUS.

The ultimate gift was Jesus. He gave us HIMSELF. Completely lavished upon us a gift so undeserved, so priceless, so precious. So PERFECT.

And even though Jesus didn't tell us to celebrate his birth with gift giving, or to celebrate his birth at all. He DID ask us to GIVE.

He said to give to the poor. He said to clothe the naked, to feed the hungry, to serve one another, to make disciples, to lose our lives to him.

Despite my grinchy feelings, my reservations about the amount of stuff we really need or give, or my lack of "giftedness" in giving, I DO want to be like Jesus. And just as Jesus gave us himself, so I will choose to give of myself to those closest to me this Christmas and to those in need afar. By spending quality time, giving a listening ear, a sensitive heart, a comforting touch, an affirming word, and yes, even some actual green and red paper wrapped presents.

My husband (who at this point is basically Santa Claus) had the wonderful idea to give each of our five children one hundred dollars for Christmas that they could give away. My son, Micah, the green traditional tree lover, picked up a catalog from World Vision and asked to buy a goat, and medicine, and warm blankets before he even knew about the hundred dollars. My other two boys packed Operation Christmas Child shoe boxes online with some of their money. My girls are still thinking (hopefully they don't inherit any scroogeness from me!) I'm joyfully anticipating to see what each of my children will choose to give towards.

These are the gifts I cherish nurturing in my children. With all of the wonder and magic, anticipation, lights and celebration, let me throw off the grinchy scroogy feelings that so easily entangle like all of those lights in last year's boxes, and fix my eyes on the perfect one, the perfect gift and giver.

Did Jesus ask for too much?

The rich man calls him good teacher. "What must I do?" he implors. Seems rational and sane for a seeker of eternal life. "Keep the commandments" the teacher's reply. A checklist! I get it now. Because clearly, if we check everything off with God, then we hurry our reservation, prove our worth, and ensure our future.

Don't murder, Don't commit adultery, don't steal, don't bear false witness, honor your parents....and the rich man, who must certainly have experienced some amnesia, replies, "All these I have kept since I was a boy." Not to come down too hard on the rich man, but really?

Then a pause. Jesus looks at him and the book of Mark tells us Jesus "loved him." Then, the God-man turns all of the self-righteousness and rule seeking on it's head, and as if he has looked straight into the very personal heart of this seeker, he turns the rich man's question from "what must I do?" to "Who do you love?" Jesus asks the man to give up every. thing. he. has.

"One thing you lack, sell everything you have and give it to the poor and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me." A personal invitation to walk alongside the real, living Jesus, to come and to follow. But the rich man heard Jesus asking for too much. He went away sad. He could not possibly imagine such sacrifice for a Savior he ultimately did not love.

The greatest commandment, to love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength, is quickly followed by loving your neighbor as yourself but the second cannot authentically happen without the motivation of the first. And all the do-gooding in the world cannot make up for a lack of love.

The questions we need to ask ourselves is not so much, "what must I do?" but "who do I love?"

A Red Coat for Fashionrut Funday!

Last year on my blog, I gave away a sweet Aztec print Roxy coat, to the first reader who chose to sponsor a child at My Father's House in Uganda. So naturally, this year I needed a new coat! I found this cherry red one for $20 at Plato's Closet, an awesome resale clothing store in Fayetteville, AR.  


These perfect yellow-brown suede boots were even less!

Could I have gone out and spent $100 on a new coat this year? Sure, but instead I have a different goal in mind. I've been researching extreme poverty in the world. Did you know that in the last generation, because of the hard work of charitable organizations like Compassion International, the amount of people living in extreme poverty has been CUT IN HALF! This means the amount of people starving every day and dying of easily preventable diseases has been CUT IN HALF! Isn't that amazing? What will this new generation accomplish? Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could eradicate extreme poverty in the world?   

Today the 138 million people who claim to be Christians living in the United States of America make a combined income of 2.5 trillion dollars a year. If we could all choose to be just 1% more generous towards the helping the poor with our money, think of the impact! That 1% alone would add up to 25 Billion dollars! That's 25 billion dollars a year! 

So today, I'm posting a picture of me in my cherry red coat and suede boots, and asking you to spend less and choose generosity! 

There is now a new banner on the sidebar of my blog that will take you directly to Compassion International's sponsorship page, and if you sponsor a child from the link in my banner or from here, Compassion will give my own sponsored child, Gabriel in the Dominican Republic, a gift! Isn't that marvelous?! If you sponsor a child, not only will they be released from poverty, they will also have the opportunity to meet Jesus! 

Watch this short powerful video below for a glimpse into the life-changing message of Compassion and be inspired to release a child from poverty in Jesus' name!

20 Tips for 20 Years of Marriage

1. Love God more than your spouse: God is love and He has shown us how to love by giving his son for us. When we love God in return, he enables us to love supernaturally and our desire to please Him gives us strength we need to love our spouse even in difficult times.

2. Love your spouse: Love is sacrifice, hard work, commitment, intentionality, not just emotion. Love with your hands and feet. Your emotions will follow. 

3. Laugh: Laugh often and much, don't take yourself too seriously or be easily offended.

4. Forgive: living and loving in marriage comes with greater opportunity for hurt as well. Forgive easily and often. Keep no record of wrongs. 

5. Ask forgiveness: admitting where you went wrong is an exercise in humility and repentance. Say "I'm sorry" without defending yourself. 

6. Commit: Commitment starts on day one, when marriage vows are taken and the phrase "til death do us part" is wholeheartedly embraced with no "exit sign" in your mind for the rest of your life. 

7. Initiate Intimacy: Sex is cement, bonding us emotionally, physically, and beautifully together. Make it a habit to not turn down your partner for sex. There is maintenance sex, and gourmet sex. Both are needed.  If you need to turn down your partner, make it your aim to be the initiator the next time, and preferably within the next few days. 

8. Spend less than you make: Money issues are one of the top reasons for divorce and can be the biggest stress in marriage. Live frugally and within your means. 

9. Communicate: This takes carving out adequate time. Communicate every day, but spend additional time weekly to share feelings and thoughts more intentionally and intimately. 

10. Extend simple courtesy: rudeness or lack of simple courtesy devalues and harms your spouse. Simple courtesy builds appreciation and love. 

11. Time away together: take a vacation together yearly even if just one night away from the kids. Make this time for just the two of you a priority. 

12. Multiply: embrace the Biblical view of children as a blessing from God and seek his blessing. Children add tremendous joy, excitement, and opportunity for stretching and growth for parents. Multiplication also happens when couples intentionally invest together in the lives of others. 

13. Honor your spouse in public: make it a practice to never criticize or put down your spouse in front of others. If you feel the need to do so, these are private issues you should make time to discuss carefully with your spouse.

14. Fellowship with believers: Church involvement and fellowship with other believers provides needed accountability and encouragement in marriage.

15. Encourage your spouse's individuality: respect differences and give your spouse freedom and encouragement to pursue their God-given gifts and callings.

16. Guard your heart: your heart belongs to your spouse. Where the mind dwells, the emotions with follow. Don't give your heart away to a job, a "friend", or a fantasy.

17. Speak the truth in love: learn to phrase your words well and exercise a kind tone of voice when speaking truths that are hard.

18. Don't compare: don't compare your spouse to another or your marriage to another. Be content with your spouse.

19. Pick one thing: when the going gets rough, and if you've gotten on a negative path with a view towards your spouse, pick one thing. Find just one thing about them that you admire and appreciate. Focus and dwell on that one thing, thanking and appreciating them for it. Over time, your list will grow.

20. There is Grace: In this fallen world, we are all broken in need of grace. It is only by His grace that we are forgiven, and hearts are healed and empowered to live for more than ourselves. It is by his grace, that marriages last.  Even if you've been broken and hurt by divorce, he will not abandon you. His graces reaches out to you offering hope, healing, love and compassion.

Happy 20th Anniversary to the love of my life, Mr. Tom Graney! Thank you for 20 adventure-filled years!