God's Plan

Here is my heart today.

I’ve been thinking of writing this post for a week now, ever since stumbling upon another blog, but I haven’t had time to sit down and spew.

I finally have a bit of spewing time.

Those of you who are with me in the “Blog Stalkers Club” know how interesting it can be to navigate to different blogs from those you often read. I sometimes do some blog surfing when I feel alone, because I always seem to find SOMEONE walking in similar shoes. You’d be surprised how many parents of special needs kids are out there in the blogosphere.

One of these moms touched my soul in a special way. Like me, she wears her heart on her cyber sleeve and her blog posts are fabulously raw. One post in particular made my heart sigh, as she asked people, especially those whose dreams have had to be revised, to explain “God’s plan” to her.

She asked, “Those o f you who have disabled children, yet still believe in God’s plan for your life, PLEASE explain to me how you can accept this? How do you get to that point? Because I’m not there, and I’m in awe of those who can still believe in God when this happens to such beautiful kids.”

I am one of those who believes in God. I am one of those who has a beautiful kid who deserves to have a ‘working’ body. So, I will answer.

Start from what you know.

Those are familiar words to the ears of those who know me well. I say those exact words when my heart is chaotic and troubled. Perhaps the control freak in me needs this creed because knowing SOMETHING for sure makes my heart feel more organized and calm.

I know that God loves me.

I know it because I have literally felt His love. I have felt His love while on my knees weeping and pleading for Him to reverse Ellie’s brain damage. He was in that room. And He was holding my heart. There were no promises of healing, of easy roads, or even of full acceptance. But there was love.

I know that God loves Ellie.

Sometimes I think that no one could ever love Ellie the way I love her. No one could stand in awe of her beauty the way I do. No one could melt at the sound of her giggles the way I do. But, somehow, I KNOW that God loves her even more than I ever could. My love for Ellie is still human. God’s is supernatural and omnipotent. I know, know, know that He loves her.

I know that God has given us free will to decide what we’ll do with our lives.

I truly believe that God’s love for us is what determined His creation of our hearts. He wanted us to CHOOSE Him.

I know that God is there no matter which path I choose.

This is really important to me. I hate it when people (myself included) put God in a box and think that His “plan” is of a single direction. I don’t believe it! I believe that God’s given us the free will to decide which path we’re going to take at different junctures in our lives. God would have been with me at the University of North Dakota as much as He was with me at Union University. Had I gone to UND, maybe I would have fallen in love with someone from Fargo. You all know how much I love Richard, but I don’t believe that he’s my soul mate. I don’t believe in soul mates PERIOD. I am speechless with gratitude when I think of our paths crossing, but I also believe that both Richard and I would have been happy marrying other people, had we never met each other. God would have been with me, guiding my decision to marry Fargo-man, just as He would have been with Richard, guiding his decision to marry a Bama girl.

God was with Richard and I when we decided to move to Dallas. Richie actually interviewed for a job in Ohio at the same time, and had that one been offered to him first, he would have accepted and we would have driven our U-Haul up to Columbus instead. And God would have been just as real, just as loving, just as PRESENT with us in Ohio.

I know that this is going to be the controversy-of-the-day, but I also don’t necessarily believe that “God’s plan” for my life specifically included Ellie. I believe God’s hand-grasp would have been just as tight had Richard and I decided not to have biological children. It sounds very romantic and dreamy to say that I was “hand picked” to be Ellie’s mom, but I don’t think I was. I know that our decision to try to procreate was made prayerfully and that God blessed us tremendously when I got pregnant with Ellie. But to say that this was part of His plan for my life from the beginning of time? I’m not convinced. Perhaps I’m not convinced of that because of what that would mean for subsequent children. What if Richard and I decide not to adopt and Ellie remains our only child? If God had “hand-picked” a child for us that we end up not adopting, what happens to her or him? Do they get “plan B” parents? Are they orphaned?
For this reason I truly believe that God’s plan for our lives is fluid. Or, perhaps, that His plan is non-specific. Maybe God’s plan for our lives doesn’t include names of spouses. Maybe God’s plan for our lives doesn’t include specific kids. Maybe God’s plan for our lives isn’t geographically-narrow.

I know that God’s plan for my life centers around my relationship with Him.

God’s plan for my life is about being His. No matter where I go to school, who I marry, how many kids I mother, which job I accept, His plan for me is about living for Him. The rest is inconsequential.

THAT’S how I accept His plan for me, dear friend.

Because I DON’T believe that God sat down one day and said, “That Chrystie, I bet she’s strong enough to handle a kid with cerebral palsy. In fact, she’s stronger than that, so I’m gonna throw some infertility in there too!”

Because I DON’T believe that God had anything to do with Ellie’s brain damage. I think He had EVERYTHING to do with her life, and with the first intubated breaths she took on March 15, 2005, but He had NOTHING to do with her stroke.

I accept His plan for my life because I know He loved us so much that He gave us intelligence and free will. Unfortunately, those very gifts have resulted in an often evil and heartbreaking world. It’s a world that I can’t even imagine walking in alone, without His peace and presence.

So, to me, accepting God’s plan for my life is exclusive of accepting Ellie’s cerebral palsy. I’m not there yet either. I know that without the knowledge of God’s presence in my life, His love for me and Ellie, and His unconditional guidance, I would be a really bitter and constantly sad person.

And there, my blog friend, my kindred spirit who’s walking in similar shoes, is my answer to your question.

When Will People Stop Asking?

When Ellie is 10 and the age gap between the two kids would be *too* large?

When I'm 45 and I look *obviously* too old to be pregnant?

Is that when people stop asking, "When are you having number two?"

I remember reading somewhere that if a couple is childless after their seventh year of marriage, people just assume that there ARE no babies coming. And then the questions stop.

So, maybe when Ellie's seven, the questions will stop.

Four years to go...

To Make Me Feel Better...

A hundred things to say.

Minus twelve energized brain cells.

Equals an "I'll write more later and here's some pictures to appease you" post.

So there.

A little bit of airport fun:

Jelly B'Ellie is pulling up to a stand on EVERYTHING these days! When you've got 7 hours in airports, there are a LOT of chairs that scream, "Pull up on me! Pull up on me!" Being the precious, all-compliant girl she is, she aims to please.


Now before y'all get ugly about the hair: THIRTEEN HOURS of flying and airports. Enough said. I actually had to CHASE Ellie around for a bit. Yes, you read that right: CHASE. Chase, people! THANK YOU, JESUS!


Who knew that the moving sidewalk could be SO. MUCH. FUN. ? For one of us at least.


Never a true airport experience without an arcade.

And a bag or two or three to unpack...

Beating, Hopping Heart

"Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking (crawling, hopping, wheeling...) around outside your body."
Elizabeth Stone

My heart hops outside my body. Without a doubt. I am truly head-over-heels in love with my sweet Ellie. I breathe in her giggles and melt at the delicious smell of her voice. My love for her is all-consuming and enveloping.

I realized that this week.

Of course, I've known for a long time that I've been madly in love with my Ellie. But, sometimes, the reality of it all, the depth of it all, the goodness of it all, becomes more poignant and alive. Last week was one of those "sometimes".

Perhaps Bama just brings out the best in us! We spent the week there and Ellie was such a delight. She is just so fun to be around. And I am so very proud of her. Although the distance between us and our Southern family and friends is heart wrenching, the great thing about twice-a-year visits is how impressed they are by Ellie's progress. It's such a good reminder for me, so often entrenched in the day-to-day mire, to see Ellie's progress through the lens of a wider timeline. Because Ellie IS amazing and her progress IS spectacular!

And you know what else? I want the world to know that she's spectacular. I know that sounds like a "well, duh" statement, but it's actually a really deep concept for me. I struggle a LOT with people's perceptions of Ellie. I am always hyper-sensitive when in public with Ellie. "That person looked at Ellie for more than 2 seconds, so SURELY she notices that Ellie's different and is wondering what's 'wrong'..." or "I gotta make sure that Ellie's wearing shoes, because I want her to look as NORMAL as possible so that people won't stare..." or, well, you get the picture.

But, last week, in the Atlanta airport, when Ellie wanted to "play on the floor, Mommy!" I thought, "My sweet baby, who's been sitting on airplanes for the past 8 hours wants to play on the freakin' floor, so I'm gonna let her." And I did. And I didn't care. I didn't care that typical three-year-olds don't hop around like bunnies. I didn't care that typical three-year-olds don't stiffen their legs and "swim" on the floor. All I cared about was that Ellie was gloriously happy, stretching out her legs and building up her immune system by touching every imaginable airport-floor germ known to man. And then, when I asked her if she wanted to "walk" a little bit (while I held both her hands, of course) and she immediately answered with an enthusiastic, "Yes, Mommy!", I didn't care that people noticed her little legs crossing. I didn't care that her face showed obvious concentration upon each step. All I cared about was the little giggle that escaped her pretty lips each time she took a step and I exclaimed, "Good job, Ell!"

Some people stared. I noticed the looks. I also noticed that the expressions on those faces were of admiration. I bet several of the onlookers wanted to say, "She's beautiful", but felt it inappropriate to do so. Because Ellie IS beautiful, inside and out.

I simply delight in her.

My fairy-princess heart:

11/11

It's Remembrance Day. What will YOU be doing at 11 o' clock on the 11th day of the 11th month?

It's a bit ironic when you think about Canada's (pre-Afghanistan) reputation of being a PEACEkeeping nation, but up here, we really DO take war remembrance seriously. For a month now, the Canadian Legion (veterans) have been selling poppies at nearly every store counter. We wear our poppies on our left lapel, closest to our heart, as a way to remember and thank those who fought for this country. All non-essential services are closed this morning, and the vast majority of us get the entire day off.

At 11:00am on the eleventh day of the eleventh month, we are to stand in silence for one minute as we remember those who have sacrificed for this amazing land.

Believe it or not, there have been MANY sacrifices. And I thank each one of our soldiers and each one of those soldiers' families with all my heart. THANK YOU for sacrificing your comfort, your stability, your sleep, your health and often your life, for your beliefs. I am truly convinced that those who physically fought (and are still fighting) for this country believed it was the best way to promote freedom and ensure a better life for little Canadians to come.

I just find it really difficult to reconcile war and freedom in the Canada of 2008. I'm not sure what the answer is, but I hate the fighting. I hate it when the CBC newscast leads with a picture of another fallen soldier in Afghanistan. I hate the thought of civilians dying in the crossfire. I'm not sure what the answer is, but I know I hate the current state of affairs. I secretly wish that Canada had not veered off her peacekeeping course. I liked that part of our reputation.

But, alas, I fear that we've gone too far now to turn back.

And on a day like today, I want to honour those soldiers who don a maple leaf on their khaki forearms. Their mission might not be one I support, but their intentions are pure. And they're risking their lives every day because they love the same country as I do. I want to think about the women of Afghanistan who have been able to send their daughters to school since our soldiers arrived. I want to think about the amazing humanitarian work our troops do out there. I am proud.

Where will *I* be at the eleventh hour today? On my way to the airport. We're heading down to Alabama for the rest of the week. I may not be able to stand in respectful silence at 11:00, but I will thank God for our service men and women throughout the day.

And I will wear my poppy with incredible pride.

Home of the Brave

So, I got a bit emotional last night.

Normally, politics just make me mad and passionate, so the last thing I feel like doing is shedding a tear. But yesterday I was moved. When I saw the African-American grandmother standing in the crisp Chicago air suddenly fall to her knees and weep upon hearing the announcement that Obama had won, my salty floodgates opened.

I truly cannot imagine the reels of flashback-movies that were playing in this woman’s mind. From Selma to Memphis, from Jim Crow to Martin Luther King, I’m sure her knees buckled from the weight of a dream that was now fulfilled.

Did I support Obama because he’s Black? No. I’m in his corner because I believe in his qualifications, his intellect and his sound platform.

But, does it warm my heart to think that America might actually be more color-blind than I originally thought (especially having lived in the South, where I witnessed racism often)? Absolutely. It makes me feel proud.

I feel proud that EVERY American can say, “Obama did it, so can I!”

I feel proud that the Chicago Grandma can clutch the picture of her long deceased mother and say, “See, mom, we did it! You and dad fought not in vain.”

And, selfishly, I am especially thankful for MY Grandma. Oh, I know that she didn’t have to battle the demons of racism, but my grandma sacrificed a LOT to fight for her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. She journeyed through the frozen tundra, losing her toddler brother to the elements. She gave up her education so that she could work to pay off the debt her family incurred to immigrate. She worked from sun up to sunset in order to put food on the table. She did this all so that her children, including my dad, could know an easier, better life. She did this all so that her children’s children could live in a country where they could worship freely. She did this all so that her children’s grandchildren could live securely in a nation that values healthcare; where physical therapists and neurosurgeons are affordable and readily available.

My Oma has a lot in common with the grandmother from Chicago. The color of their skin is different, but they share an unquenchable love for their children.

President Obama has a tough road ahead. He’s inheriting a huge mess, and he has a lot of governing yet to do. He will not provide perfect leadership. I pray that he will make two good decisions for every bad one.

But yesterday, in the ballot-box moments, when Americans cast their votes without seeing the color of either candidate’s skin, we all won. A color-blind world, a religiously tolerant world, a non-conscription and peaceful world is what my Grandma, Obama’s Grandma, McCain’s Grandma, and most likely YOUR Grandma sacrificed for.

What a great night.


My Oma (Grandma) with her great-granddaughters.

Election Day!

Of course, I am immersed in election coverage, so instead of a "real" post, I will cyber-publish some of my favorite campaign quotes. In 2012, remind me to save "the good ones" into a Quote Folder so I can refer back to them when I feel obligated to blog, but am void of articulation.

"That is the true genius of America, a faith in the simple dreams of its people, the insistence on small miracles. That we can say what we think, write what we think, without hearing a sudden knock on the door. That we can have an idea and start our own business without paying a bribe or hiring somebody's son. That we can participate in the political process without fear of retribution, and that our votes will be counted -- or at least, most of the time."
Barack Obama 2004 Democratic Convention

"I never, ever want to say anything bad about another woman but I fear so much for our country, our Constitution and our daughters and sons, that I have to say: this woman is not acceptable to me as the vice-presidential candidate."
Bonnie A., Miami, FL

"With this, the country is finally able to see through complexion and see community."
Maya Angelou

If BS were currency, Palin could bail out Wall Street herself."
Kathleen Parker

"Go Bama!"
Ellie B.


"These two boys waited as a long line of adults greeted Senator Obama before a rally on Martin Luther King Day in Columbia, S.C. They never took their eyes off of him. Their grandmother told me, "Our young men have waited a long time to have someone to look up to, to make them believe Dr. King's words can be true for them." Jan. 21, 2008."
Callie Shell