Little Pink Piano

It was Cyber Monday and I didn't come across a thing I wanted. I really didn't look to be honest. I guess I was just interested in sites that offered Free Shipping. But I didn't come across those either. Maybe it was because Cora had a cold and she was not having it all day? Ugh... goodbye Cyber Monday. I did however come across a little pink grand piano with 30 keys and just knew I had to get it for Cora. Not because I want her to be just like me. In fact, I've had about 10 lessons of piano before my teacher told my mom I wasn't teachable because I wouldn't follow the page and that I just kept playing what was in my head.

No, I don't want Cora to be like me, but I do want to her to see what I've seen in being musical. I want her to see how people are affected by music. How it can break and mend a heart. How it can make you forget the pain or remember the good times for five minutes. Generations, millions of people moved by music. Moved to do great things, become great people, simply by seeing a better version of themselves at the end of a melody.

I want her to hear what I've heard. Hundreds of men, women, and children and their stories on how my personal music showed them they're not alone. I want her to hear their stories of where they came from because PEOPLE, good and bad, are the inspiration in everything we do. What they have to say to us and to each other determines the key and progression of each song. And although the people we come to know may never know the melodies they lead, their songs will forever be heard in our lives and the steps we take.

I want her to know what I know. That it's okay to play alone and it's just as great to play for millions. Her worth and identity should never matter on how many people hear, see, or like her but rather what God has made her to be and if that's hitting one key at a time in an chromatic sequence or smashing at them equally in emotion and not making much sense, I want her to know every song, every step and every breath she takes has a purpose for something beyond herself and beyond her circumstances.
So Merry Christmas Cora. I can't wait to hear your song.

Wisdom

When I was around 10 years old I remember my Dad tucking me into bed and asking me if I could have anything in the world what would it be. To be honest, I don't remember my response because I'm sure it was childish but I remember my Dad's. As he was pulling up the covers he told me of a time when God asked a man the same question. My dad told me, "He could have asked for anything this world had to offer, but he asked for wisdom (1 Kings 3)." I remember my Dad telling me that wisdom was the greatest gift a part from God's love that I could ever have because it could never be taken away. He told me it would help me hear God when the world became loud.

That night after he prayed with my sisters and I, I asked God for wisdom. Tonight when I go to bed, I'll ask for the same thing and thank Him for enabling me with it on a day to day basis. Because you see, wisdom is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, open to reason, full of mercy and good fruits, impartial and sincere (James 3:17). It's everything you would want in order to live this life to the fullest.

So as the seasons approach and you begin your Christmas list, or even your child's, ask yourself, "Are we asking for the right things?"

Melissa, Alisha, & Me

(dedicated to children with special needs)

She wasn't a popular girl by any means. There was something special about her. When she would do her school work there was an adult that helped her. I don't remember her having a lot of friends. I do remember her always being happy.

I was in the 3rd or 4th grade and she gave me an invitation to her birthday party. Melissa had invited numerous people to her birthday party but I remember hearing that not many of my friends were planning to go. I took the invitation home and showed my mom and asked her if I should go. Mom told me Melissa would be grateful and encouraged. I remember nodding with a sinking feeling in my stomach. Was I embarrassed? No. Was I ignorant? Yes.

We walked up to her house and I rang the doorbell. I'm pretty sure my Mom and I had gotten her something Lisa Frank. Her mom answered the door with a smile and let us in. Melissa came over quickly to greet us and I gave her my gift. In return she gave me a hat and invited me to her tea party. There at the table was another friend or two. I wanted to feel sorry for her, but she was so happy... she gave me nothing to feel sorry about.

Her mom had made tiny finger sandwiches and we had an absolute blast. I remember my imagination running wild in the colors and party trinkets. The feeling I had received that day is the reason I stand for babies and children with special needs being carried to full term and assisted through childhood today.

The next year I was transferred to a charter school. Making friends has never really been a problem for me as I usually don't have trouble asserting who I am to others (loud, ADHD, outgoing, wild, the usual). Every day at lunch I watched a young girl being pushed around in a wheel chair around the playground. I decided it was time I went to talk to her. She communicated clearly, she struggled with expression and control over her motor skills but that didn't bother me because she had the same happiness Melissa had. Her name was Alisha and she was my friend. Every day at lunch I would swing and talk to her, sometimes play the "Titanic" song on my recorder for her and set up scenarios for us to be adventurers. It was such a relief to be able to be myself and to bask in the joy Alisha had.

Today, every week I try to dedicate my Monday to head downtown and volunteer at a pregnancy help center. Sometimes my encouragement and counsel is focused around children with special needs. I've learned not to be afraid of the unknown but to trust and pursue Christ and in turn He will light the path of which we fear to walk. The joy that Melissa and Alisha brought to my life has yet to be replicated. It was special and they deserved every bit of attention they needed because of it.

I recently heard a saying, "Love doesn't count chromosomes." As a child I didn't see brokenness in Melissa or Alisha. I saw something different. They were different then who I was and I wanted whatever they had to offer to help make me a better person. The love they had to give for one person was the same love they could give to 20 people. It was truly unconditional. It was real.

This world could use more authentic, unconditional love.

Did you check on me?

I had just put Cora down for bed and was straightening up a little bit before hitting the sack myself. I picked up her tiny clothes and tossed them in the laundry room and peeked into her room to see her little body lying peacefully, the only movement was her chest and her pacifier. I smiled and suddenly remembered me and my sister asking my mom every single morning if she had come in to check on us while we slept the night before.

"Mom, did you check on me?" My mom would always answer yes and then we asked her how we looked. Occasionally she would throw in a funny comment but most of the time she would say we were peaceful. I was never let down by any of her answers. To be honest, I believe I only cared about the first half of the question.

"Did you check on me?" --- "Yes."

There's a reason why as a child I asked that question. Just knowing my parents were there was securing. Knowing that in my most vulnerable state, they were looking after me.

Sometimes, we ask God a similar question, "Were You there?" We can ask Him that every single day and the answer will be the same. "Yes." But we don't always believe it. We don't always sleep peacefully. We don't always feel His love surrounding us.

What keeps us from believing He is there? Maybe we don't feel like we're worth it. Maybe we've been abandoned before by the world. As a child, who I was and what I had done did not factor into the question I asked my mom every single morning. It didn't matter to me then like it does now. I just wanted to know if she saw me.

We need to go back to that. We need to remember that no matter the choices we've made that God is there. He is always there, and He loves you that much to be with you in your most vulnerable state, whether that be sleeping, doing errands as you hold animosity in your heart, or curled up in the corner of the room wondering why it had to be you.

He loves you. He sees you. And He begs you to ask every morning, "God, did you check on me?" Because He longs to answer in a soft and still voice, "Yes."

"The Lord himself will go before you. He will be with you; he will not leave you or forget you. Don’t be afraid and don’t worry.” Deuteronomy 31:8

"The Lord is close to the brokenhearted, and he saves those whose spirits have been crushed." Psalm 34:18

National Right to Life Day 2014

It was January 22nd 2014. I woke up and knew I had to head downtown but every bone in my body screamed to stay in bed. I had stayed up late working on a few graphic design projects and my eyes just couldn't bear the rays of sun peaking through the blinds. Cora started crying so I got up, fed and changed her and sat on the bed trying to decide whether or not to go downtown for the day. I decided to go. The drive seemed long and my mind and my heart seemed to be in a horrible disagreement with one another regarding how awake and attentive I truly was. And then I met her.

She was afraid. Although it was a beautiful sunny day she didn't see the sun. She couldn't feel anything. She had just found out she was pregnant. 

"I just celebrated my birthday with my 22 year old daughter," she said as she smiled at the fresh memory of spending time with her daughter. "I'm 41 years old...I can't do this again." She took a deep breath and looked down. She felt trapped.

I stood there in awe. I couldn't imagine having a child at that age now knowing the amount of work that goes into raising a child. I stood there in silence for a moment looking at the face of my little one.

"Do you know why we have children?" I asked her not fully knowing where the conversation would end. She was silent. I continued, "My father was the youngest of ten. His mother had him at an older age than you are now and had she terminated her pregnancy, I wouldn't be here with you now." She started to cry. I scooted closer to her. "I'm not here to make you feel guilty for thinking the thoughts you are or feeling the way you do. I'm here to remind you what children do for this world. Because my grandmother chose to have my father she not only passed on her sweet and strong nature, she also passed on the hope of Jesus Christ. That's the only way this world can get better; passing down His promises, love, and hope." She grabbed my hand.

I continued. "I know you're afraid but God is going make good out of this situation by renewing your strength and bringing into your life someone who will one day look into the eyes of someone unsure and remind them of the stability of God's love."

And like that, it was as if her crashing world finally came to a halt. I saw her look into the sun. She then turned to me, thanked me, gave me a hug and walked away.

She was at peace.

Romans 8:28
We know that in everything God works for the good of those who love him. They are the people he called, because that was his plan.