by jphilo | Oct 1, 2010 | Book Updates

Yesterday, I interviewed Stacy Remke, the coordinator of the Pain and Palliative Care program at the Children’s Hospitals and Clinics of Minnesota. Our conversation about the services they offer to families of kids with chronic and sometimes terminal illnesses brought to mind a friend who lost his son a little over a year ago. I thought of this post, written last June, and how the right occasion never arose to post it. In light of yesterday’s interview and in honor of little Evan Newport, today is the right day for the post. Perhaps, you will read it and agree.
A friend called the day after Father’s Day. He said Sunday, the first Father’s Day since his son died the day after Thanksgiving, had been brutal. “It felt almost like depression, but that’s not what it was,” he said. “I was just so sad, so very, very sad.”
He talked about how hard it was to lose his seven-year-old son, even though he was was born with a severe heart defect and they knew his lifespan would be short. Seven months after his son’s death, my friend is surprised by the intense and relentless grip of grief he’s experiencing.
He’s also surprised by the comments of well-meaning Christians. They quote Bible verses like Romans 8:28 which says “All things work together for good for those who love God, to those who are called according to His purposes.” By their tone, they imply that if he’s a true Christian, it’s about time for him to snap out of his grief because after all, his son’s death is working together for good.
How come, I wondered as he poured out his hurt and pain, they don’t quote John 11:35? The shortest verse in the Bible, it’s much easier to memorize than Romans 8:28. And if those well-meaning people want to comfort a man grieving the loss of his little boy, these words are salve to a wounded, aching soul.
Jesus wept.
Jesus, God in the flesh, wept when told of the death of his friend Lazarus.
Jesus wept, though he knew his friend would soon rise again.
Jesus, who is light in the darkness, wept.
My God, who knows the end from the beginning, wept.
Surely my friend, who can’t yet see his way through the darkness of loss, can weep, too.
by jphilo | Jun 22, 2010 | Book Updates

It’s official. The contract for Different Dream Parenting: Raising a Child with Special Needs is signed, sealed and delivered. Whew and yahoo!
Not that I thought Discovery House Publishers (DHP) would pull out of the deal. The people there have great integrity. Still, for this former teacher who loves to dot ever “i” and cross every “t” (not to mention put check marks in the little boxes on her to do lists), receiving the final, signed contract was an “ahh” moment.
The biggest “ahh” is the deadline date for the manuscript. Between the daughter’s upcoming wedding and the research intensive nature of the book, I fretted a little, wondering if enough time would be allowed to do the subject justice. I shouldn’t have worried. DHP’s manuscript deadline of April 1, 2011 is extremely generous. Ahh.
I am looking for both families of children with special needs and experts to interview as part of the book research. You can read the details at www.DifferentDream.com. If you have expertise in any of the areas or know someone who does, please send an email. I won’t be scheduling interviews until several weeks after the wedding (July 11), but am compiling a list in the meantime.
Thanks for your continued encouragement and prayers. You are a great source of strength to me. To quote a dead guy named Paul, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me,” to which I add my own two cents, “but not much else.”
by jphilo | May 21, 2010 | Book Updates

Two things happened recently that have me simultaneously dancing with joy and worrying about my compulsive tendencies.
The first thing was the completion of some really cool planning charts for my latest book projects. There’s a chart for each of the six sections of the books. Each chart is neatly divided into five boxes, for the four chapters in each section and the corresponding appendix. The charts have neat, centered titles, summaries of each chapter and bold-faced headings followed by blank spaces where I will jot down important information and ideas. Of course, from past experience, I know how unlikely it is that I will remember to use the charts throughout the project. But for now, the completion of the charts makes me feel industrious, and their existence make me very happy.
The second thing makes the charts seem like child’s play. A school teacher friend of mine has agreed to coordinate reception preparations for our daughter’s wedding. This is a woman after my own heart. She loves to make plans and check off lists and label tubs as much as I do. She will not laugh when I give her a ten page, reception instruction list, complete with a perfectly centered title and lovely little check off boxes. She will be as thrilled as I am.
It could be because:
- We bonded 22 years ago, when we huddled together in the corner of my classroom each noon hour, pumping breast milk for our babies who were born just a week apart.
- God knew I would need peace of mind during my daughter’s wedding weekend and provided someone able to give me such a gift.
- Compulsive people naturally come together and arrange themselves into neat rows and columns.
I can’t choose A because it explains our friendship but not our innate personality traits. I can’t choose C because I’m in denial about being compulsive, and I hope she is, too, at least until after the wedding. We can face our demons later, I always say.
So that only leaves B, which is the best, most comforting answer. I’m not compulsive, but my God is a God of order, not chaos.
Me and my friend, we’re just trying to be more like him.
by jphilo | Apr 30, 2010 | Book Updates

Yeah, that’s me in the back row with the oh-no-what-have-I-gotten-myself-into expression. The other two are my brother and a cousin. There’s another cousin kneeling in front, but I can’t get her to show up. (Sorry Nell!)
When the good people at Discovery House Publishers emailed on April 13 to say they accepted my proposal for Different Dream Parenting: Raising a Child with Special Needs, my response was similar to the one in the picture. It was the day after we returned from our son’s wedding so my energy level and brain functions were nil at the time.
Needless to say, it took awhile for the news to sink in. Once the old brain cells revived, my first response should have been of the whoop-and-holler-of-joy variety. But no. It was more of the what-have-I-gotten-myself-into and why-did-I-think-I-could-write-a-book-on-this-subject variety.
After a few calming breaths and some positive self-talk, the panic subsided, at least until I printed off the chapter summary that was part of the original proposal. After reading the plan written last December, panic returned, along with self-doubt. I felt as poorly trained and utterly inadequate for the task at hand as I had each August of my twenty-five year teaching career.
But over the next several days, God calmed me down, patted my head, and held my hand. Every Bible passage I read was about how God prepares his people for his work. Every book I opened contained valuable resources. Visions of experts and parents I’ve met in the past few years – many since Different Dream was released – came to mind.
“Write them down,” a voice whispered inside my head. “Make a plan.”
I started a list of people, books, websites, and organizations. In minutes, the list was two pages long. Their expertise matched many of the subjects to be addressed in my book, though a few holes remained. In the next few days, previously unknown experts appeared on my radar screen. The timing was uncanny.
The voice in my head was clear and insistent. “You’re not in this alone. I’ve spent my life preparing you to do this. You take the logical next step and leave the rest to me.”
Living by faith. Writing by faith. That’s what I’ve gotten myself into.
Let the adventure begin.
by jphilo | Mar 22, 2010 | Book Updates

February was a long month at my house. Part of it was the weather, which thanks to the inexorable march of time, is now only a dim memory. But part of it was something else was the long wait for the first sales report (and royalty check) for A Different Dream for My Child. The Discovery House minions said July through December sales figures would be compiled in January, so that information and my first royalty check for would arrive sometime in February.
Day after day, the check didn’t come. The last week of February, Hiram got so antsy he asked if I planned to call them and ask where it was. A few days later, an envelope from the publisher arrived in the mail, and the news was good – almost 4000 books sold from September 1, when the book was released, until the end of December. That means that maybe, just maybe, there will soon be a second printing.
The news was welcome, but it paled compared to my recent correspondence with Joy Owens, a mom who read Different Dream after her baby Sam was born with a severe heart defect in November. She emailed me once during his hospitalization to say how much the book had encouraged her. Then she emailed at the end of January to say their little boy had died.
A few weeks ago, she contacted me again. She and her husband decided to use the money given in Sam’s memory to start a gift bag ministry for babies with heart conditions and their parents. A Different Dream for My Child will be one of the items in each bag. Tears come to my eyes whenever I think of what the Owens family is doing in response to their great loss. Their compassion and vision amazes me. Being part of what they are doing is more valuable than all the sales figures and royalty checks I will ever receive.
You can read more about the project at Sam’s CaringBridge page . Joy says the bags will cost almost $100 each, and they hope to start a website about the project soon. As the project progresses, I’ll post updates in case any of you would like to donate something to defray the costs of the bag.
And please, if you feel led would you join me in praying for the Owens family? Their eight-year-old son, Matt, also lives with a chronic heart condition. Though the whole family – Kurt, Joy, Parker, Matt, and Emma – is reaching out to other families, they do so with raw and grieving hearts.
Father, please this day and every day, wrap your arms around the Owens family and grant them peace. Amen
by jphilo | Jan 27, 2010 | Book Updates

A burden lifted from my shoulders last week when I mailed my latest book proposal to the editor. Not that this proposal was extra-difficult to write. Once I got past the stages of oh-my-goodness-I-can’t-possibly-fill-this-blank-screen-with-enough-words-to-be-anything-substantial, and how-do-I-organize-this-beast, and why-did-I-think-this-topic-was-a-good-one, it quickly took shape.
Chapter topics to address and resources to include became evident, thanks to three women – Cheryl, Cindy, and Lorie – who shared their struggles as moms of kids with special needs. They words were the hope other parents need to hear. And their experiences created a road map for the common journey parents embark upon when they discover their child has special needs.
Working with them was delightful, as was weaving their stories and suggestions into the proposal. So the sensation of immense relief once the proposal was sent surprised me. Since the relief wasn’t the result of completing a dreaded task, it must have come from fulfilling a responsibility I didn’t feel equipped to handle.
For now, the baton of responsibility has been passed on the publication committee. Since they’re praying about the proposal, along with me and my agent, if they decide I’m up to the task, I’ll take the baton and run with it.
Until they decide, I’m moving on to other things: researching and writing www.DifferentDream.com blog posts, writing articles to promote A Different Dream for My Child, preparing for upcoming speaking engagements, and maybe, just maybe, finding time to work on my new mystery series idea. Hopefully, two things will happen before everything is checked off the list: the publication committee will make a decision and winter will be over.
Either one will make me smile!