by jphilo | Apr 18, 2011 | Daily Life
I’m not very happy with God today.
Several dear friends are hurting deeply,
and they will continue to hurt for a long, long time.
I spent part of today with one of them,
but couldn’t make the hurt go away.
Last night, I spent a long time on the phone with a young mom.
Her infant son and only child is hospitalized, unable to stop retching.
Her heart is broken, her sobs were wrenching,
and I couldn’t make the hurt go away.
Another mom emailed today about her five-year-old daughter who has PTSD.
She wanted advice about what course to take,
where to seek treatment,
how to make her daughter’s hurt go away.
This poor mom thinks I can give her a glimmer of hope.
But how can I help her when I can’t make my friends’ hurts go away?
When I can’t mend a mother’s broken heart?
When I can’t shield a child from pain?
Through it all, the source of my hope remains silent.
His word says he will bring good from what was meant for evil.
His work in my life confirms that promise.
But when will the hurt go away?
I’m not very happy with God today.
Still, I will trust him.
by jphilo | Feb 9, 2011 | Reviews
Without the suggestion from a book club buddy, The Irresistible Henry House probably wouldn’t have found a spot on my personal book list. But now I’m grateful to have read it.
Lisa Grunwald’s book isn’t great literature. But, it is an intriguing novel about a phenomenon that lasted from the 1920s until the 1960s on many college campuses. Orphanages “loaned” babies to home economic departments so young women could gain practical experience caring for infants. The young women would rotate week by week, caring for the child over the course of the year. Then the college would return the toddler to the orphanage for adoption, and a younger infant would be put in place.
Grunwald tells the fictitious tale of one such baby, Henry House. But in the story, instead of returning him to the orphanage, the home economics instructor (a widowed, unbending woman) adopts and raises Henry. He becomes a charming child who can copy any artwork, though he can’t come up with original, creative ideas. He’s irresistible to women, able to manipulate them as he wishes. You can guess where that trait leads him.
The story has it’s Forrest Gump elements, as Henry comes of age in the early 1960s. He becomes an animator, works on Mary Poppins and meets Walt Disney. Then he goes to London and meets the Beatles during his stint as an animator for Yellow Submarine. Sometimes, it felt like Grunwald forced the symbolic elements of the story when she didn’t need to. The premise of the story was intriguing enough.
But, a personal connection kept me reading The Irresistible Henry House: post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). The more I read of Henry, the more his behavior resembled adults who experienced childhood trauma that resulted in PTSD. It made me think about infants who spend weeks and months in neonatal or pediatric intensive care units, being cared for by a constant rotation of nurses.
SInce finishing The Irresistible Henry House, thoughts of those children have consumed me. And I know it’s time to get serious about developing a proposal for a book about PTSD in kids.
So thanks, book club buddy, for putting The Irresistible Henry House on the reading list. And thanks, Lisa Grunwald, for moving the PTSD book proposal to the top of my to do list.
Anybody volunteers to clean my house so I can actually work on it?
by jphilo | Aug 2, 2010 | Daily Life
Almost three years ago, I compared an undignified plop into the tube tied to our friend’s pontoon boat to my first ploppy attempt at blogging. My desire was for a slow, sedate ride in both endeavors. Hence the title of the post: That’s Fast Enough.
Yesterday, I went tubing again. This time the tube was tied to my cousin’s speed boat. The ride was anything but slow and sedate, at least according to my idea of speed. The ride made me think about family events which, in my eyes, have occurred at lighting speed during the three years between tube rides. Here’s the short list:
- Mom is diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. Moves in with my brother’s family in 2007. Her house sells in March of 2008.
- I get contract for A Different Dream for My Child in February of 2008. Deliver manuscript by January 1, 2009 deadline. Discovery House Publishers releases it in September of 2009, and the next several months are dedicated to promoting it – all over Iowa, with trips to Minnesota, California, West Virginia, and Florida thrown in for a change in scenery. I also start second blog, www.DifferentDream.com, a companion website for the book.
- Son leaves monastery and is treated for Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) caused by early childhood invasive medical trauma. Finds old sweetheart, new job and own apartment, in that order. Engaged in July 2009, married April 11, 2010.
- Daughter meets boyfriend in spring of 2009. Engaged in November 2009, married July 11, 2010.
- Discovery House offers me a new contract for Different Dream Parenting on April 12, 2010, one day after son’s wedding, two months and twenty-nine days before daughter’s wedding…proof that God has a sense of humor. Book deadline is April 1, 2011.
Whew! Over the past three years, things have moved way too fast. So far there hasn’t been time to reflect upon them. So I’m hoping the rest of this year will be like me at the end of yesterday’s tube ride. The boat stopped moving, I finally had time to strike a pose, smile, and enjoy my day in the sun.
With that in mind, could the Guy in charge please slow down my wild ride so I can think for a while, then grab a pencil and start writing? In fact, could He stop the boat? For a month or two, that would be plenty fast enough.
by jphilo | Sep 28, 2009 | Daily Life
For the past month I’ve been in denial about the end of summer and the arrival of fall. But today I can deny it no longer. Over the weekend, the leaves went from green to gold. Overnight the air went from warm to chilly, the breeze from soft to harsh.
In years past, my lips nearly tripped over themselves as a litany of weather complaints tumbled from my lips. But on this fall day, they won’t. How can I complain about the weather in light of what God has done?
Last fall at this time, we were moving my mother from her home to my brother’s, worried about her health, watching her retirement savings take a hit, wondering if her house would sell in a recession economy. This fall, her health and happiness are greatly improved, her retirement income is secure, and her house is sold.
Last fall, when Hiram and I went to Minneapolis for the annual Desiring God Conference, our son was a monk, wrestling with unnamed, untreated PTSD, thinking he was going crazy. This past weekend, we went to the conference as usual. But we skipped an afternoon session so we could celebrate our nephew’s birthday with our whole, healthy and definitely not crazy son, his fiance, and several other family members at my sister’s house.
Last fall, much of A Different Dream for My Child was still in my head, and with all the responsibilities accompanying Mom’s situation, I wondered if it would be written before the publisher’s deadline came and went. This fall, it’s published and being used by God to minister to hurting parents.
Last fall, I would have been complaining about the weather on a day like this. But God has shown me how he takes what is hard, what is painful, what seems cruel, what seems wrong, and uses it for good.
So this fall, I watch with hope when the wind blows and the cold comes. I expect great things. Instead of complaining, I whisper a prayer. Bless hurting families on as you’ve blessed us. Show them how to trust you in bad weather and in good. Amen.
by jphilo | Jan 6, 2009 | Church Newsletter Columns
…I was the least qualified of any of the available Christians.
God saw to it that I was equipped…
And so here I am, preaching and writing about things that are way over my head,
the inexhaustible riches and generosity of Christ.
Ephesians 3:8
The weekend after Thanksgiving, I was feeling smug about December. The Christmas decorating was done, several gifts had been purchased, my writing tasks for the month looked manageable, and I had outlined a holiday schedule in my planner.
But Monday morning our son phoned from the monastery in West Virginia. The crisis we’d anticipated since he moved there five years ago had arrived. The next two weeks were a blur of days at the monastery, a weekend with relatives in Ohio, a week at the Morgantown, West Virginia clinic where Allen received treatment for post-traumatic stress syndrome, and finally a long trip home together.
Two or three years ago, a crisis like that would have paralyzed me. But God began preparing me for it a while back when I memorized Ephesians 3:8. The verse tells how God prepared Paul for ministry to the Gentiles. God continued to equip me this fall when I read the book Reformission by Mark Driscoll and attended Pastor Tim’s Sunday school class about developing a missional mindset. The book and the class trained me to look at my life as my mission field. So when our son’s call came, I was ready to deal not only with the needs of my family during an emergency situation, but also to look for ways He would use me in it.
In short, I was prepared to be a woman on a mission. While at the monastery, whenever possible, I thanked the monks for their love toward Allen. I answered the questions they had and showed compassion as they released him from their care. At our relatives’ home, I entered into their holiday preparations and thanked them for their willing ministry to us. And at the clinic, which did not claim to be Christian, I told the therapists I was a writer and interviewed them about their treatment methods. By the end of the week, they suggested I write a book for Christians parents about post-traumatic stress in children.
In the next few months, you will have the opportunity to develop a missional midset about your life as GCC launches its missional church initiative. During worship services, in Sunday school classes, at small church and in daily quiet time, you will examine your life circumstances and discover God’s purpose in them. You will be challenged to trust God to equip you for service, and once you are equipped, to take action. In short you will learn to be missional within your ordinary, everyday life.
We’re about to become men and women on mission from God. Are you ready?
