Thursday, November 12, 2015

Maybe Three Weeks Is Not Long Enough....

Many of you know that Bashful is currently attending a camp in Punta Gorda, Florida, for boys that are emotionally and behaviorally disturbed.  You also know that this is not anything that we are unaccustomed to, since his older brother went through a similar program in PA.

I am sure that we have not done a very adequate job of updating you all on his departure and his status since he has been gone, so here is a summary of all that has happened with Bashful in the last four weeks.

He has become the reigning fire starter in his group, he is working hard on his goals, he has been on a three day canoe trip with his tribe, he is often helpful around camp, he is learning how to carve, he usually has no troubles getting up in the mornings, and he is working very hard at keeping a clean and neat space in his footlocker and making his bed.  Oh and my heart was happy to see that he had not been eaten alive by the mosquitoes!


I am not sure what I was expecting to find upon our arrival to camp.  They say that disappointment is based on unmet expectations.   I was so uncertain about what I would find or see in my dwarf, yet  I in some ways I was hopeful for such "great" things.

We were greeted by a young man that looked, and smelled, and sounded like Bashful.   While his teeth are cleaner than they have been in years, thanks to the hygiene station at camp, and a little intense peer pressure (see photo below of where the magic happens) there was a bit of a standoff posture to him. Oh, he greeted us appropriately.  Hugs all around.   He was excited to hand over a gift that he made for his eldest sister, and was super excited to see the Prince because he thought that I was the only parental attending....but there was just something that rubbed at me.  Something that made me think (and say out loud to the Prince) that three weeks away had done nothing but change his geographical location to me.  My heart was not softer, my attitude was not kinder and my words were a great struggle.  Much about him just, well, sort of annoyed me.  In a deep place.

I know that moms that have children that are a delight to your hearts always, may be struggling to read the words that I am writing, but I think in the span of our visit, even though here in the kingdom, I was doing what needed to be done to get through the day with Bashful, (sometimes the hours or the minutes) I realized just how much his attitude, his behaviors and his brokenness have affected me.  I am hurt, and I am resentful and I am saddened.   I can not place my finger on an exact thing.  I just started to realize how deep and how raw the emotions are that run through me.    Did I expect him to gush all over us, no.  Did I expect that the boys in camp would be excited to meet us and that he would be excited to introduce us to the others, no.  Did I expect that he would have had something profound to say to express his remorse, or to show me he understood his brokenness, or our sacrifice, or the need for him to get this help, maybe? Sort of?  Mostly no.

What I do know is that God is not surprised by Bashful's station in life.  That because of our diligence and because of God's great love for Bashful, He is also not surprised about any of our stations currently in life.  God knows my heart and my hurt.  He has created Bashful, and is working diligently through the chiefs at camp to assist him in his growth and maturity in ways that we could not here in the kingdom.  As much as he loves Bashful, he love me too, and if I allow, he will show me how to work through the hurt of having and loving a broken child.

Here are some ways that you can pray for Bashful.  Pray that he is able to start to "own" things.  Be responsible for his words and his actions (or lack of them). That he would understand that no one is out to sabotage him, but many are championing  to set him up for great success.  That authority is a component of life that is necessary as a child so that you can learn, and grow and be successful in a protected environment.   Pray for the chiefs that live with these boys in the woods six days a week.  Pray for the camp as they continue to grow and offer hope to other parents that find themselves with boys in the same condition as Bashful.   Pray for our family for healing and grace.  Also for the upcoming Thanksgiving break where we have Bashful home for a week.

It was towards the middle of the visit when we were able to take this photo and Bashful actually seemed to be relaxing and able to smile... this is the dwarf that I love and miss... Here's to his healing, and his growth and maturity in the weeks and months and years ahead.

You just can't make this stuff up....

Tuesday, November 10, 2015

It Never Is Good to Hear In the Middle of the Night... Dad... I Hit Something....

It never is good to hear from your eldest son, in the middle of the night, the words, "Dad, I hit something..."

Oh of course not only was it the middle of the night, but it was also a dark and stormy night this summer when Dopey, arriving home from work in the wee hours of the morning, comes barging into our bedroom, where I might add the Prince and I are soundly sleeping.... and clears his throat.

Dopey, clears his throat, and awakens us, with "Dad, I may have hit something on the way home tonight."  "What?"  responds the groggy Prince.  "You either hit something, or you did not hit something, there is no "might" about it."

Dopey goes on to recount that as he was driving home, at "an appropriate speed" for the weather conditions (pouring rain) on the main road to our house, he thinks he hit something in the road.  I am now fully awake.  "How do you know you hit something?"  He replies that he knows that he hit something because he felt it on the side of the car.   So of course my next response is, " was it an animal or a person?"  "What did you hit?"  "Oh no, not either of those things he replies as he continues to tell us that when he got out on the side of the road, in the pouring down rain, to look at the car and when he did, he could see his tire was flat.

I would venture to say, he did more than hit something... If I were a betting Momma, I would guess he ran off the road in the rain and scraped up against something....  or there was debris on the roadway that he did not see because of the rain and ran in or through that.... Needless to say, flat was an understatement.

Flat in my mind means, it can be repaired.  Like a nail in the tire.  Or a pinprick that slowly leaks. Not this.  This was shredded.

In this situation, Dopey has the joy of learning a few life lessons.  One tires are expensive.  You typically can't just buy one without a second for balance of the car.  At the very least some of the other tires need rotated around to help achieve the maximum ride and wear and tear on the vehicle.

Oh, and he got to learn how to change his tire to put on the spare. He found out from a neighbor how to find out the identifying information off the tire so that he could have the privilege of calling around for tire prices.  Once he secured the best option, he then had the joy of  using his hard earned money to replace said flat tire.

In the midst of all this I think that Dopey is beginning to understand  a few things with  a little more appreciation. One is to pay attention when driving period (this does seem to be a struggle for the boy who has had his license less than a year and has had two altercations thus far), another, is to drive under the speed limit in poor conditions, and to always be grateful for the help of neighbors and friends, and your sister, when you are required to change a tire!

You really can't make this stuff up!