My daughter arrived in the Intensive Care Unit (ICU) in the middle of the night on the eve of Thanksgiving. A tough respiratory virus attacked her lungs, and she needed a substantial amount of oxygen support. And now, this unexpected illness meant Thanksgiving was going to be completely different than we had all planned.
Are you scrounging for thankfulness this holiday season? Holidays can be a challenge for those walking through hard days. Perhaps you feel like you've been handed the short-end of the stick; your child is struggling, you’re exhausted and it seems like everybody else has life with a bit more gravy. It’s easy to focus on our circumstances, take stock of what we have and where we are and end up feeling completely void of thankfulness. Is there a cure for this?
I first suspected I had ADHD as a teenager, but finding the right professional to take me seriously was much harder than I expected. Previous attempts only ended in frustration and tears.
Enjoying the holidays with a food allergy sounds like an oxymoron doesn’t it? After all, eating together is an integral component of the holiday season. I looked forward to making our traditional holiday foods until I was diagnosed with a dairy allergy in 2012. What was to enjoy about the holidays when the foods associated with it were off limits to me?
It was a short, ten-minute drive from the hotel to the residential facility. I maintained composure while I navigated the busy public roads, and then residential streets. I had a whole range of emotions racing through my body, mind and spirit as we pulled into the campus. This was not just a pleasure drive or a routine errand, this was a significant milestone in the life of my son and our family.
I recently spent some time in the book of John and read anew the verses where Jesus asks us to remain in Him. In John 15:4, Jesus says, “Remain in me, as I also remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me.” As the waves of 2020 crashed against me, they tossed me out of my remaining posture. Time and again I found myself worried, questioning, and lamenting outside of the vine where I was to remain.
The orchard was heady fare for a midwesterner eager to escape an Iowa winter for a week. I walked around in shirtsleeves and sandals, admiring trees laden with yellow and orange fruit. I breathed in the tang of fresh citrus. Even so, part of me was ready to return home and resume interviews with parents raising kids with special needs and disabilities for a book proposal about stress and compassion fatigue in caregiver. Talking to these families, on the phone or in video chats, has been as sharp and delicious as an orange eaten in a citrus grove.
