<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-714965167444566271</id><updated>2024-10-25T06:58:44.550-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Writes of Passage: Faith Over Disability</title><subtitle type='html'>Faith Over Disability is a faith-based blog that focuses on empowering parents, caregivers and loved ones of those who just happen to be differently-abled.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default?redirect=false'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false'/><author><name>Miriam Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02602670519801797127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj834CKS4V_vHm9Ns-pt3mU-dO74u6xawtvFKKnBJ7OIyTN522OnjtuF1c9cXMreGduy0yZud4XT9_2hAw_SxAKMYsR4WOSQYv2NgteqIYElK-88cdQAYR9Yr7ysViIhQ/s220/scan0001+%282%29.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>43</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-714965167444566271.post-7752218386948204809</id><published>2013-04-05T12:48:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2013-04-05T12:48:46.873-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Step By Step</title><content type='html'>Recently, the idea of taking a &quot;step by step&quot; approach to life&#39;s challenges took on a new, much deeper meaning for me. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;m beginning to realize that I&#39;ve taken my ability to move forward for granted and that I may not have devoted nearly enough time, consideration and prayer to many of the decisions I&#39;ve made in my life.&lt;br /&gt;
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The catalyst for this epiphany was an unfortunate ankle injury that my husband suffered&amp;nbsp;earlier&amp;nbsp;this week. &amp;nbsp;Since he hurt his ankle, he&#39;s had to plan and strategize to make even the simplest of moves. &amp;nbsp;I have been right by his side to help him, but I&#39;ve been taken aback by how helpless this injury has rendered him. &amp;nbsp;Climbing stairs has proven to be a nearly impossible feat for him, despite his attempts to do so using the most well thought out of plans. &amp;nbsp;The look of frustration on his face makes me a little sad sometimes because I know how stubbornly independent he can be! &amp;nbsp;Still, watching him as he learns to cope with his temporary physical limitations makes me really think about how tentative and cautious he must be before attempting to &amp;nbsp;move his body in any way. &amp;nbsp;I realized that I could stand to be a little more tentative with my &quot;movement&quot;, my mouth and the decisions that I make too. &amp;nbsp;I would do well to pause, much like my husband now does, before responding to others in ways that I know are not pleasing to God. &amp;nbsp;The Bible reminds me that God is concerned about everything that happens to me in my life, so why not ask Him about even the small stuff?&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;&quot;Let my cry come near before thee, O Lord; give me understanding according to thy word. &amp;nbsp;Let my supplication come before thee; deliver me according to thy word. &amp;nbsp;Let thine hand help me; for I have chosen thy precepts&quot;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;- Psalms 119: 169-160;173&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&amp;nbsp; </content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/feeds/7752218386948204809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/714965167444566271/7752218386948204809' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/7752218386948204809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/7752218386948204809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/2013/04/step-by-step.html' title='Step By Step'/><author><name>Miriam Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02602670519801797127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj834CKS4V_vHm9Ns-pt3mU-dO74u6xawtvFKKnBJ7OIyTN522OnjtuF1c9cXMreGduy0yZud4XT9_2hAw_SxAKMYsR4WOSQYv2NgteqIYElK-88cdQAYR9Yr7ysViIhQ/s220/scan0001+%282%29.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-714965167444566271.post-381974203820746037</id><published>2013-03-03T16:53:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2013-03-03T17:32:38.531-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Valley Lilies</title><content type='html'>I&#39;ve never even had the slightest interest in mountain climbing. &amp;nbsp;The aching muscles, the profuse sweating, the harsh weather conditions... no thanks! &amp;nbsp;Some people love the idea of slowly and meticulously planning their ascent up the side of a large mountain, carrying with them every item they will need to survive outdoors once they reach the top. &amp;nbsp;Not me. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;ve never wanted to experience the intensity of this kind of struggle and would certainly NEVER have willingly placed myself on such a path! &amp;nbsp;Don&#39;t get me wrong, though. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;m not afraid of a good challenge. &amp;nbsp;A few pinches of challenge and a wee bit of struggle can help to add some flavor to the &quot;stew&quot; of life.&lt;br /&gt;
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As with most dishes that are prepared in a slow cooker, a slow-cooked batch of &quot;life stew&quot; will be most flavorful when all of the ingredients are allowed to slowly blend together at a steady temperature. &amp;nbsp;Shortcuts are not advisable, as they will only serve to compromise the finished product. &amp;nbsp;I, for one, love the simplicity of cooking in my slow cooker. &amp;nbsp;I add the raw ingredients and end up with a delectable and savory dish 6-8 hours later. &amp;nbsp;What could be easier?&lt;br /&gt;
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Consider the different ingredients that are often needed to create a flavorful dish. &amp;nbsp;Are they all similar? &amp;nbsp;Any good cook knows that it&#39;s often the contrast of seasonings or ingredients in a dish that make it delicious, interesting and memorable! &amp;nbsp;I use this strategy with many of my signature dishes, and my friends and family keep coming back for more! &amp;nbsp;Let&#39;s go back to the analogy of the &quot;life stew&quot; for a moment. &amp;nbsp;Life&#39;s pleasantries are a very sweet and critical ingredient in this dish, but a great dish needs balance. &amp;nbsp;A dash of red pepper flakes or a teaspoon of vinegar might be just what is needed to create the kind of balance we&#39;re looking for. These ingredients could represent some of the challenges that we all face at one point or another in our lives, but we can&#39;t stop with them because our &quot;stew&quot; still needs more. &amp;nbsp;Specialty ingredients (not your everyday Food Lion or Wal-Mart brands) are sometimes added to a dish to increase it&#39;s authenticity or to give it that special &quot;wow factor&quot;. &amp;nbsp;We can add specialty spices to our &quot;life stew&quot;, but we can only get these important ingredients from God. &amp;nbsp;It is God who adds just the right amounts of grace and mercy. &amp;nbsp;It is God who adds &amp;nbsp;supernatural doses of strength, faith or patience to our &quot;stew&quot; whenever we need Him to. &amp;nbsp;Without these special ingredients, our efforts would be futile and our resources wasted.&lt;br /&gt;
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No, I&#39;ve never wanted to climb the side of a mountain, yet I&#39;ve found myself in this very predicament time and time again. &amp;nbsp;Yes, with God&#39;s help, I&#39;ve climbed and descended my share of mountain sides! &amp;nbsp;I once asked Him why the descent was always necessary, and He reminded me of all that I&#39;ve learned in the &quot;valley experiences&quot; of my life. &amp;nbsp;He comforts me during times of difficulty by drawing my attention to the beautiful&amp;nbsp;lilies&amp;nbsp;of the valley. &amp;nbsp;These lilies&amp;nbsp;remind me that all is never lost and that God&#39;s promise is to give me beauty in exchange for my life&#39;s ashes. &amp;nbsp;So, whether I&#39;m experiencing a mountain high or a valley low, I&#39;ll remain focused and alert, as not to miss out on any of the lessons (some incidental, some written just for me) that I need to learn.&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;nbsp; &quot;Lord, help me to give thanks in every situation I find myself in, recognizing that I can trust You to continue to lead, provide for and protect me no matter what. &amp;nbsp;Thank you for being a present help to me always. &amp;nbsp;Amen.&quot;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/feeds/381974203820746037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/714965167444566271/381974203820746037' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/381974203820746037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/381974203820746037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/2013/03/valley-lillies.html' title='Valley Lilies'/><author><name>Miriam Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02602670519801797127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj834CKS4V_vHm9Ns-pt3mU-dO74u6xawtvFKKnBJ7OIyTN522OnjtuF1c9cXMreGduy0yZud4XT9_2hAw_SxAKMYsR4WOSQYv2NgteqIYElK-88cdQAYR9Yr7ysViIhQ/s220/scan0001+%282%29.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-714965167444566271.post-4908771727192961315</id><published>2012-12-30T10:10:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-12-30T10:10:05.619-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye 2012!</title><content type='html'>In another day or so, the year 2012 will come to an end. &amp;nbsp;I like to take time at the end of every year to look back at my achievements, my failures, and lessons learned. &amp;nbsp;This yearly process seems to help me to get a clearer picture of where I&#39;ve been, what I&#39;ve done, where I should not have gone and what I shouldn&#39;t have done! &amp;nbsp;Assessing events of my recent past helps me to set goals and plan strategies for my immediate and long-term future.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I&#39;d like to share a few of the lessons that I learned in 2012 with you:&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;u&gt;What 2012 Taught Me&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Never having done something before is no excuse for not doing it now!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Actively listening to someone or something requires my undivided attention.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Everyone won&#39;t appreciate my talent or my dreams. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;God&#39;s timing is perfect! &amp;nbsp;Some of my greatest opportunities to connect with another person have come while waiting for Him to take me to the next level. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;ve learned to appreciate every second of every minute, because each one has the capacity to give birth to a miracle!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Walking by faith, and not by sight, gets easier the more I do it.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Life is hard sometimes, but dwelling on this reality only makes it harder. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;ve learned to smile and speak positive words on purpose.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;God doesn&#39;t play favorites. &amp;nbsp;My destiny is just as great as any other person&#39;s. &amp;nbsp;Convincing myself that I am worthy of greatness has been my biggest challenge, for with greatness comes great responsibility.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;It&#39;s okay not to have an agenda sometimes. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;People are who they are. &amp;nbsp;My job is to love them, not to judge them.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Life is like putty - it can be molded and stretched to become just about anything. &amp;nbsp;With God&#39;s help, my life has become something beautiful - something good. &amp;nbsp;Thank you Lord!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Asking &quot;why?&quot; hasn&#39;t netted any good answers. &amp;nbsp;Asking &quot;what can I do?&quot; instead is the spark for my writing, my sharing and my connecting with others.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;If I expect the great, I will recognize it when it comes knocking!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/feeds/4908771727192961315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/714965167444566271/4908771727192961315' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/4908771727192961315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/4908771727192961315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/2012/12/goodbye-2012.html' title='Goodbye 2012!'/><author><name>Miriam Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02602670519801797127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj834CKS4V_vHm9Ns-pt3mU-dO74u6xawtvFKKnBJ7OIyTN522OnjtuF1c9cXMreGduy0yZud4XT9_2hAw_SxAKMYsR4WOSQYv2NgteqIYElK-88cdQAYR9Yr7ysViIhQ/s220/scan0001+%282%29.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-714965167444566271.post-1668220558844832042</id><published>2012-12-11T22:27:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-12-11T22:27:43.455-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Real Talk</title><content type='html'>Tonight, I&#39;m gonna shoot straight from the hip, if that&#39;s okay with you. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;m thinking and feeling a lot of things right now and I desperately need to unload. &amp;nbsp;I need a safe place to land, and if you&#39;re reading this, guess what? &amp;nbsp;You&#39;re it!&lt;br /&gt;
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I&#39;m not really one to gripe and complain. &amp;nbsp;I try to take each day as it comes, asking God to help me through it - minute by minute. &amp;nbsp;He&#39;s really good at doing that, but some days just seem harder than others. &amp;nbsp;Maybe those are the days that too much of me gets into the mix and my feelings get hurt. &amp;nbsp;Or perhaps I just let my guard down a little too much... I don&#39;t know. &amp;nbsp;All I know is that it gets really hard to &quot;keep my guard up&quot; and be vigilant about everything, all the time. &amp;nbsp;&quot;Does it really take all of that?&quot;, some would ask. &amp;nbsp;&quot;Do you really need to have your finger on the pulse of all those things?&quot;. &amp;nbsp;My answer is &quot;yes&quot; and here&#39;s why. &lt;br /&gt;
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Being the parent of a differently-abled child has opened up many doors in my life that I may otherwise never have walked through. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;ve learned so much since I began this journey and I am thankful to be able to share what I&#39;ve learned with others. &amp;nbsp;There is so much to keep up with - medical appointments, special diets, therapy visits, IEP meetings, etc. &amp;nbsp;In a way, I feel as if I&#39;ve become the glue that must hold all of the pieces of my child&#39;s life together. &amp;nbsp;Her immediate and long-term needs and goals must be identified and addressed. &amp;nbsp;All of this requires lots of thought, prayer and strategic planning. &amp;nbsp;But while this goes on, so does everyday life! &amp;nbsp;Work, spouses, other children. the laundry, cooking, cleaning, the dogs, grocery shopping - all of it seems to need my attention! &lt;br /&gt;
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My daughter&#39;s disabilities are not apparent to most people upon meeting her. &amp;nbsp;In fact, some people just assume that she is purposefully immature, annoying, rude, lazy or sarcastic when nothing could be further from the truth! &amp;nbsp;She is an amazing girl who tries hard academically, socially and emotionally every day. &amp;nbsp;She is talkative, energetic (after 11AM - not a morning person at all!), fun-loving and sweet. &amp;nbsp;She is not as mature as most people would expect her to be. &amp;nbsp;Her sweet, child-like innocence is ever-present, but is sometimes now overshadowed lately by hormonally-charged outbursts and superficial copy-cat behaviors she&#39;s picked up since returning to public school 2 months ago. &amp;nbsp;At 12 years old, she&#39;s learned how to compensate on some levels, but the truth is that she has significant social difficulty when interacting with others - especially her same-aged peers. &amp;nbsp;Most of them have no idea that she has any disability at all. &amp;nbsp;Others have begun to pick up on subtle (and some not so subtle) differences in that way she relates to them. Lately, I&#39;ve noticed that some have even take advantage of her gullibility and naive nature. &amp;nbsp;I have to admit that I get pretty angry about that, but try and try as I might to get my daughter to speak up for herself, she just can&#39;t seem to find her voice. &amp;nbsp;I know that she will though :)&lt;br /&gt;
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Lately, I&#39;ve been cycling through some pretty raw emotions. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;ve already told you that I get angry sometimes. &amp;nbsp;Yes, I can even admit that I get a little jealous at times. &amp;nbsp;Jealous of those whose plates don&#39;t seem as full as mine. &amp;nbsp;Who am I to judge though, right? &amp;nbsp;After all, I have no idea what anyone else really has on their plate anyway. &amp;nbsp;Denial (disbelief), sadness, guilt, anger - they all come and go, sometimes almost as quickly as my daughter&#39;s moods change! &amp;nbsp;It is difficult to keep up mentally and emotionally, but I am trying. &amp;nbsp;Ten years ago, I thought that this road would have been a lot smoother by now. &amp;nbsp;I just assumed that with time, everything would even out and be okay. &amp;nbsp;The possibility that my daughter could need some level of support, even into adulthood is something that I&#39;ve only recently begun to consider.&lt;br /&gt;
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It&#39;s back to one day at a time, I guess. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;m realizing that parts of this journey may always be unfamiliar to me. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;m coming to terms with the fact that there may be many more sharp curves, sudden drops and steep inclines ahead. &amp;nbsp;Looking back however, I realize that I&#39;ve never really known what to do about anything on my own anyway! &amp;nbsp;In fact, all I&#39;ve really had to do is follow God&#39;s leading. &amp;nbsp;I am comforted by the fact that God is concerned about my struggles and my sorrows. &amp;nbsp;In fact, His Word says that He has &quot;borne our griefs and carried our sorrows...&quot; - Isaiah 53:4. &lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&quot;Lord, help me to trust You. &amp;nbsp;Some days are so emotionally and mentally demanding for me. &amp;nbsp;On those days especially, send me reminders of Your peace. &amp;nbsp;Amen.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Please keep me in your prayers!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/feeds/1668220558844832042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/714965167444566271/1668220558844832042' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/1668220558844832042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/1668220558844832042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/2012/12/real-talk.html' title='Real Talk'/><author><name>Miriam Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02602670519801797127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj834CKS4V_vHm9Ns-pt3mU-dO74u6xawtvFKKnBJ7OIyTN522OnjtuF1c9cXMreGduy0yZud4XT9_2hAw_SxAKMYsR4WOSQYv2NgteqIYElK-88cdQAYR9Yr7ysViIhQ/s220/scan0001+%282%29.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-714965167444566271.post-2823495832899716545</id><published>2012-12-03T22:35:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2012-12-03T22:35:51.121-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Misunderstood Child</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
This poem was posted by someone in my Hypomelanosis of Ito Facebook group. &amp;nbsp;Many individuals with HI also have intellectual disabilities and/or autism. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
The Misunderstood Child&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: &#39;lucida grande&#39;, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;I am the child that looks healthy and fine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: &#39;lucida grande&#39;, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
I was born with ten fingers and toes.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: &#39;lucida grande&#39;, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
But something is different, somewhere in my mind,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;text_exposed_show&quot; style=&quot;background-color: white; display: inline; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;color: #333333; font-family: &#39;lucida grande&#39;, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
And what it is, nobody knows.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #333333; font-family: &#39;lucida grande&#39;, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #333333; font-family: &#39;lucida grande&#39;, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
I am the child that struggles in school,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #333333; font-family: &#39;lucida grande&#39;, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
Though they say that I&#39;m perfectly smart.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #333333; font-family: &#39;lucida grande&#39;, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
They tell me I&#39;m lazy -- can learn if I try --&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #333333; font-family: &#39;lucida grande&#39;, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
But I don&#39;t seem to know where to start.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #333333; font-family: &#39;lucida grande&#39;, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
I am the child that won&#39;t wear the clothes&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #333333; font-family: &#39;lucida grande&#39;, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
Which hurt me or bother my feet.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #333333; font-family: &#39;lucida grande&#39;, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
I dread sudden noises, can&#39;t handle most smells,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #333333; font-family: &#39;lucida grande&#39;, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
And tastes -- there are few foods I&#39;ll eat.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #333333; font-family: &#39;lucida grande&#39;, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
I am the child that can&#39;t catch the ball&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #333333; font-family: &#39;lucida grande&#39;, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
And runs with an awkward gait.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #333333; font-family: &#39;lucida grande&#39;, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
I am the one chosen last on the team&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #333333; font-family: &#39;lucida grande&#39;, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
And I cringe as I stand there and wait.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #333333; font-family: &#39;lucida grande&#39;, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
I am the child with whom no one will play --&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #333333; font-family: &#39;lucida grande&#39;, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
The one that gets bullied and teased.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #333333; font-family: &#39;lucida grande&#39;, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
I try to fit in and I want to be liked,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #333333; font-family: &#39;lucida grande&#39;, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
But nothing I do seems to please.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #333333; font-family: &#39;lucida grande&#39;, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
I am the child that tantrums and freaks&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #333333; font-family: &#39;lucida grande&#39;, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
Over things that seem petty and trite.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #333333; font-family: &#39;lucida grande&#39;, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
You&#39;ll never know how I panic inside,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #333333; font-family: &#39;lucida grande&#39;, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
When I&#39;m lost in my anger and fright.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #333333; font-family: &#39;lucida grande&#39;, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
I am the child that fidgets and squirms&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #333333; font-family: &#39;lucida grande&#39;, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
Though I&#39;m told to sit still and be good.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #333333; font-family: &#39;lucida grande&#39;, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
Do you think that I choose to be out of control?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #333333; font-family: &#39;lucida grande&#39;, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
Don&#39;t you know that I would if I could?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #333333; font-family: &#39;lucida grande&#39;, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
I am the child with the broken heart&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #333333; font-family: &#39;lucida grande&#39;, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
Though I act like I don&#39;t really care.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #333333; font-family: &#39;lucida grande&#39;, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
Perhaps there&#39;s a reason God made me this way --&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #333333; font-family: &#39;lucida grande&#39;, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
Some message he sent me to share.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #333333; font-family: &#39;lucida grande&#39;, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
For I am the child that needs to be loved&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #333333; font-family: &#39;lucida grande&#39;, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
And accepted and valued too.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #333333; font-family: &#39;lucida grande&#39;, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
I am the child that is misunderstood.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #333333; font-family: &#39;lucida grande&#39;, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
I am different - but look just like you.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/feeds/2823495832899716545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/714965167444566271/2823495832899716545' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/2823495832899716545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/2823495832899716545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/2012/12/the-misunderstood-child.html' title='The Misunderstood Child'/><author><name>Miriam Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02602670519801797127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj834CKS4V_vHm9Ns-pt3mU-dO74u6xawtvFKKnBJ7OIyTN522OnjtuF1c9cXMreGduy0yZud4XT9_2hAw_SxAKMYsR4WOSQYv2NgteqIYElK-88cdQAYR9Yr7ysViIhQ/s220/scan0001+%282%29.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-714965167444566271.post-5520374433815752127</id><published>2012-11-09T21:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-11-09T21:44:17.817-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Be Still And Know...</title><content type='html'>&quot;Be still and know that I am God&quot;. &amp;nbsp;As parents and caregivers of uniquely challenged children, you and I know how difficult it can be to do this. &amp;nbsp;There is, after all, much to be done! &amp;nbsp;Unlike other parents, we must concern ourselves with our children&#39;s physical, emotional, educational, psychological needs during most of our waking hours - regardless of their age - whether it be a doctor&#39;s appointment with yet another specialist or a meeting with the school. &amp;nbsp;A child with attentional difficulties often needs frequent prompts and reminders to complete the same tasks from day to day. &amp;nbsp;If our children are to receive special education supports at school, we must find the time to familiarize ourselves with laws and regulations that govern this process so that we can be informed, contributing members of our children&#39;s IEP teams. &amp;nbsp;If our children have physical difficulties, we must closely monitor them at all times to make sure that they are comfortable and safe. &amp;nbsp;If our children take medication on a regular basis, we must monitor the dosing and watch closely for any side effects. &amp;nbsp;Add to all of this a full-time or part-time job, the daily upkeep of our homes, shopping, cooking, paying bills and yes, the all too familiar homework struggles, and you&#39;re left with a group of people who have every right to be yelling &quot;Stop the ride! &amp;nbsp;I want to get off!&quot;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have found myself in this place more often than I care to admit. &amp;nbsp;Yes, I know the place well. Perhaps you know it too. &amp;nbsp; It&#39;s just down the street from Pity Park, at the intersection of Overwhelmed Blvd. and Despair Drive. &amp;nbsp;Only recently have I figured out that God&#39;s advice to us to &quot;be still&quot;, means that I actually need to stop moving. &amp;nbsp;Holding my body still is pretty easily accomplished when I put my mind to it (there&#39;s always something that always seems to need my attention though...), but quieting my mind and my heart is a different story altogether! &amp;nbsp;So, one night this week, just as I could feel myself beginning to veer onto Despair Drive, I decided to just sit down and be still. &amp;nbsp;It was very difficult at first. &amp;nbsp;Although my body was still, my mind fought relentlessly to drag it back into the whirlwind of activity I&#39;d just stepped away from. &amp;nbsp;It was 10&amp;nbsp;PM&amp;nbsp;and my daughter was still trying to complete homework. &amp;nbsp;My husband would be home any minute and I had no idea what he would eat for dinner. &amp;nbsp;To top it all off, both of the dogs were now overdue for their last trip outside for the night. &amp;nbsp;&quot;You&#39;d better get up and get those things done&quot; my mind taunted, &quot;you can pray later&quot;. &amp;nbsp;The truth was, that no matter how much my mind beckoned me back into &quot;the ring&quot;, I was exhausted in every way possible and had no intention of leaving my spot on the sofa for at least 15 minutes. &amp;nbsp;I likened myself to a professional boxer who had just gone 10 rounds with his opponent. &amp;nbsp;I wasn&#39;t defeated, but I was tired.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, I forced every thought out of my mind that opposed the peace and tranquility I wanted so badly. &amp;nbsp;I was getting there. &amp;nbsp;I closed my eyes and practiced some deep breathing exercises. &amp;nbsp;I had been at this intersection before too, but it wasn&#39;t nearly as easy to get to. &amp;nbsp;I was at the corner of Peaceful Place and Rebound Road. &amp;nbsp;It was quiet there - no loud horns or speedy drivers in a rush to get to their end before their beginning. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;d gotten the being still part down pat. &amp;nbsp;Now I needed to refocus my energies on knowing that God was sovereign. &quot;Knowing&quot; meant releasing my stress and casting my care on Him, so I made a conscious effort to do just that. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I sat quietly on the sofa that night for about 15 minutes. &amp;nbsp;My husband saw me there when he came in and wanted to know what was wrong. &amp;nbsp;&quot;Nothing&quot;, I told him. &amp;nbsp;You see, I&#39;d had a few minutes to reassess and redefine my position. &amp;nbsp;I couldn&#39;t really say with 100% accuracy that anything was &quot;wrong&quot;. &amp;nbsp;Difficult, exhausting and time-consuming but not necessarily &quot;wrong&quot;. &amp;nbsp;I was back in &quot;the ring&quot;, and ready to go on. &amp;nbsp;Being still and reminding myself of God&#39;s sovereignty in my life had recharged my batteries! &amp;nbsp;Amen!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/feeds/5520374433815752127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/714965167444566271/5520374433815752127' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/5520374433815752127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/5520374433815752127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/2012/11/be-still-and-know.html' title='Be Still And Know...'/><author><name>Miriam Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02602670519801797127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj834CKS4V_vHm9Ns-pt3mU-dO74u6xawtvFKKnBJ7OIyTN522OnjtuF1c9cXMreGduy0yZud4XT9_2hAw_SxAKMYsR4WOSQYv2NgteqIYElK-88cdQAYR9Yr7ysViIhQ/s220/scan0001+%282%29.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-714965167444566271.post-4861544009499891619</id><published>2012-10-21T22:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-10-21T22:40:58.393-04:00</updated><title type='text'>&quot;You Have The Right To Remain Silent...&quot;</title><content type='html'>Well, of course you do! &amp;nbsp;In fact we all do, don&#39;t we? &amp;nbsp;Can anyone really force another person to speak? &amp;nbsp;In a literal sense, I suppose that is possible to coerce another person into opening his mouth to speak. &amp;nbsp;We&#39;ve all watched our share of James Bond movies, or similar action-packed thrillers, in which some poor soul is brutally tortured by his oppressors until he divulges some critical piece of information, but what about just&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;speaking up for a cause? &amp;nbsp;Granted, you probably won&#39;t be cast in a movie or anything for lending your voice and support, but that doesn&#39;t make the cause any less worthy of recognition.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I attended a fabulous workshop this weekend on autism spectrum disorders. &amp;nbsp;In attendance were parents and caregivers for children with autism. &amp;nbsp;They came from all walks of life, but I was struck by one commonality between them. &amp;nbsp;Despite all of the wonderful wisdom and resources that were imparted to us by the featured guest speaker, many of the parents in the room repeatedly expressed frustration with the way &amp;nbsp;their child&#39;s educational plan was being implemented (or not!) at school. &amp;nbsp;&quot;This is great information&quot;, one parent quipped but his shoulders slumped a bit and his voice stiffened when he added, &quot;but that&#39;s just not the way things are in Virginia&quot;. &amp;nbsp;Sadly, he was absolutely right! &amp;nbsp;Over and over again, the speaker remarked that the scenarios each parent described were &quot;not legal&quot; or &quot;not written in IDEA&quot;, but that didn&#39;t seem to matter. &amp;nbsp;The most vocal parents in the audience angrily reported that the schools had &quot;dug their heels in&quot;, and parents were left feeling stuck and helpless in their quests to obtain a free and appropriate public education for their children in the state of Virginia.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, here is my question to you. &amp;nbsp;Given your right to remain silent, will you speak up anyway to help right the wrongs that you see all around you? &amp;nbsp;Although my plate is very full already and I don&#39;t feel as if I can take on even one more small task without beginning to unravel, I&#39;ve decided to put my hand to the plow to help effect change in Virginia&#39;s public school special education process. &amp;nbsp;I have always given 150% to any advocacy efforts that concerned my children, but now it&#39;s time to think about effecting change for the greater good. &amp;nbsp;How should I go about getting involved? &amp;nbsp;To be honest, I&#39;m not really sure. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;ll ask the Lord about this one too - can&#39;t go wrong doing that! Stay tuned!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Blessings,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Miriam</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/feeds/4861544009499891619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/714965167444566271/4861544009499891619' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/4861544009499891619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/4861544009499891619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/2012/10/you-have-right-to-remain-silent.html' title='&quot;You Have The Right To Remain Silent...&quot;'/><author><name>Miriam Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02602670519801797127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj834CKS4V_vHm9Ns-pt3mU-dO74u6xawtvFKKnBJ7OIyTN522OnjtuF1c9cXMreGduy0yZud4XT9_2hAw_SxAKMYsR4WOSQYv2NgteqIYElK-88cdQAYR9Yr7ysViIhQ/s220/scan0001+%282%29.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-714965167444566271.post-8836593333419105143</id><published>2012-09-15T15:57:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2012-09-15T15:58:28.314-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Fat Eyes</title><content type='html'>&quot;Mommy, your eyes are fat&quot;, my daughter remarked one evening as we were sitting around our kitchen breakfast bar. &amp;nbsp;At first, I didn&#39;t know what to make of her comment. &amp;nbsp;What did she mean? &amp;nbsp;My daughter is very observant so there isn&#39;t much that she &lt;i&gt;doesn&#39;t&lt;/i&gt; see! &amp;nbsp;She is also known for her &quot;innocent, but incredibly blunt&quot; candor, so as I sat there on my&amp;nbsp;bar stool, I began to wonder what she had seen in my eyes that would make her classify them as being &quot;fat&quot;. &amp;nbsp;Now, I&#39;m not a particularly large person, but I&#39;m no stick figure either! &amp;nbsp;I like to think of myself as being pleasantly plump! &amp;nbsp;But fat eyes? &amp;nbsp;The word fat seemed an unlikely choice for describing one&#39;s eyes, but for some reason, my daughter had chosen to describe mine that way. &amp;nbsp;I continued to ponder this as she rambled on about not having enough room to get her locker open between classes at school. &amp;nbsp; Listening, but not really&lt;i&gt; listening&lt;/i&gt;, I gave only short, vague responses like &quot;Oh yeah?&quot; or &quot;wow...that&#39;s too bad&quot;. &amp;nbsp;She didn&#39;t seem to notice that my thoughts were elsewhere. &amp;nbsp;I just could&#39;t get past her comment about my eyes! &amp;nbsp;Finally, I concluded that in a natural sense, my under eye area probably did look a little puffy. &amp;nbsp;At 40+ years old, a little under eye puffiness isn&#39;t unheard of, is it? &amp;nbsp;I excused myself from our conversation to steal a look at myself in the bathroom mirror. &amp;nbsp;Well, what do you know? &amp;nbsp;She was right! &amp;nbsp;There &lt;i&gt;was&lt;/i&gt; a little puffiness under both of my eyes. &amp;nbsp;I hadn&#39;t even noticed it. &amp;nbsp;I made a mental note to myself to begin looking for a product that would magically begin to reduce the puffiness and &quot;minimize the appearance of dark under eye circles&quot; in the process! &amp;nbsp;Promises, promises.... still worth a try though, I thought. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Later in the evening, as I thought about having &quot;fat eyes&quot;, it occurred to me that having &quot;fat eyes&quot; in a spiritual sense wasn&#39;t such a bad thing at all! &amp;nbsp;&quot;What are my eyes fat &lt;i&gt;with&lt;/i&gt;?&quot;, I silently asked myself. &amp;nbsp;The answer that arose in my spirit was swift and strong! &amp;nbsp;&quot;They are fat with vision, with purpose, and with hope&quot;. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;i style=&quot;background-color: white;&quot;&gt;&quot;...Write the vision, and make it plain upon tables, that he may run that readeth it. &amp;nbsp;For the vision is yet for an appointed time, but at the end it shall speak, and not lie: though it tarry, wait for it; because it will surely come, it will not tarry&quot;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;i style=&quot;background-color: white;&quot;&gt;Habakkuk 2:2 (KJV)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;i style=&quot;background-color: white;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;i style=&quot;background-color: white;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;i style=&quot;background-color: white;&quot;&gt;&quot;...Write my answer on a billboard, large and clear, so that anyone can read it at a glance and rush to tell the others. &amp;nbsp;But these things I plan won&#39;t happen right away. &amp;nbsp;Slowly, steadily, surely, the time approaches when the vision will be fulfilled. &amp;nbsp;If it seems slow, do not despair, for these things will surely come to pass. &amp;nbsp;Just be patient! &amp;nbsp;They will not be overdue a single day!&quot;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;i style=&quot;background-color: white;&quot;&gt;Habakkuk 2:2 (TLB)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
Of course! &amp;nbsp;It was all beginning to make sense to me now. &amp;nbsp;My mission, as an author, is described perfectly in the scripture verses above. &amp;nbsp;So, my daughter was exactly right, after all! &amp;nbsp;My eyes are indeed, fat. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;m okay with this in a spiritual sense, because I believe that sharing vision and purpose with others is a big part of my destiny. &amp;nbsp;A little &quot;under eye baggage&quot; may even be necessary for my journey. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
By the way, I have managed to find that &quot;miracle&quot; product that is supposed to help &quot;reduce the appearance of my under eye puffiness and dark circles&quot;. It won&#39;t do a thing to reduce the fat buildup under my spiritual eyes though, and that&#39;s just the way I want it to be!&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/feeds/8836593333419105143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/714965167444566271/8836593333419105143' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/8836593333419105143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/8836593333419105143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/2012/09/fat-eyes.html' title='Fat Eyes'/><author><name>Miriam Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02602670519801797127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj834CKS4V_vHm9Ns-pt3mU-dO74u6xawtvFKKnBJ7OIyTN522OnjtuF1c9cXMreGduy0yZud4XT9_2hAw_SxAKMYsR4WOSQYv2NgteqIYElK-88cdQAYR9Yr7ysViIhQ/s220/scan0001+%282%29.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-714965167444566271.post-671183615527546485</id><published>2012-08-28T20:18:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-08-28T20:35:47.867-04:00</updated><title type='text'>In The Waiting</title><content type='html'>I left work a little later than usual this evening. &amp;nbsp;As I sat in traffic on a nearby street, I was tempted to take a familiar shortcut. &amp;nbsp;If I took the shortcut, I wouldn&#39;t have to sit in traffic and wait for my turn to merge onto the main highway. &amp;nbsp;&quot;If I&#39;m lucky, I can make up the 5 minutes I lost by leaving late&quot;, I thought to myself.&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;ve taken this shortcut many, many times. Shamefully, I&#39;ve even caught myself gloating once or twice, as I sped past drivers who were still waiting in what had looked like a never-ending line of cars and trucks. (No, &amp;nbsp;I&#39;m not proud of this, but it&#39;s the truth.) &amp;nbsp;I chuckled a bit this evening, as I replayed the memory of myself glancing smugly at the other drivers because, for the life of me, I couldn&#39;t figure out why I&#39;d been so proud of myself! &amp;nbsp;Yes, I&#39;d managed to avoid waiting my turn in line, but what had I missed out on because of it? &amp;nbsp;Perhaps the Lord had intended to speak a word to my heart as I sat waiting in line. &amp;nbsp;Maybe he&#39;d had something very specific He&#39;d wanted me to do. &amp;nbsp;I suppose it&#39;s even possible that God Himself had orchestrated &amp;nbsp;and created opportunity &lt;i&gt;for&lt;/i&gt; the traffic, just so He could have my undivided attention. He&#39;d have to catch me another time though, because in my rush to get ahead of everyone else, I&#39;d forfeited my opportunity to quiet myself and listen.&lt;br /&gt;
Nowadays, our ability to wait patiently for...well just about anything, has become somewhat of a lost art. &amp;nbsp;I like the idea of referring to the ability to wait as an art form, because while engaged in it, so much of the beauty that surrounds us can be slowly taken in and appreciated. &amp;nbsp;We&#39;ve become a &quot;microwave society&quot; on so many different levels. &amp;nbsp;We&#39;re constantly looking for ways to get things done faster and, if possible, with little or no effort (or commitment) on our part. &amp;nbsp;Take cooking for example. &amp;nbsp;Does ANYONE still make cornbread from scratch? &amp;nbsp;What about baking, huh? &amp;nbsp;Can you recall the last time you had a slice of a 100%, made-from-scratch cake or pie? (Shout out to my mom who has recently perfected her recipe for her pound cake with lime glaze. Yum!) &amp;nbsp; What about education? &amp;nbsp;I mean really...how many &quot;get your degree in record time while wearing your pajamas&quot; commercials do we need?&lt;br /&gt;
My question, folks, is simply this: &amp;nbsp;What are we in such a rush to get to or, in some cases, get away from? &amp;nbsp;We seem to have forgotten that important lessons can be learned when we &quot;take the long way&quot; through life&#39;s challenges. &amp;nbsp;We&#39;ve become so repulsed by the idea of struggle, that we often chose to fore go these lessons, insisting instead that we be handed our victories instantly, lest we shed a few tears or actually break into a sweat! &amp;nbsp;Though often unpleasant, working through life&#39;s challenges instead of skirting around them, has it&#39;s benefits. &amp;nbsp;Just think of the incredible sense of accomplishment an athlete comes away with when he or she competes and wins? &amp;nbsp;Though athletes are often born with some degree of athletic aptitude and ability, they must still train hard in order to compete well and win. &amp;nbsp;Winning, therefore, requires a willingness to face challenges, to work hard, and to keep trying - no matter what happens! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;In The Waiting&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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(Chorus from &quot;In The Waiting&quot; - by Vicki Yohi)
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
I want a peace beyond my&amp;nbsp;understanding&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
I wanna feel it fall like rain in the middle of my hurting&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
I want to feel Your arms as they surround me&lt;/div&gt;
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And let me know that it&#39;s okay, to be here in this place&lt;/div&gt;
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Resting in the peace that only comes&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
In the waiting&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&quot;Lord, help me to be patient and not get ahead of Your plan for my life. &amp;nbsp;Help me to trust You and to have faith in Your Word. &amp;nbsp;Thank you for Your grace and Your mercy in my life. Continue to use me and make me a blessing to others. &amp;nbsp;Order my steps, and &amp;nbsp;I will be available to You every step of the way! &amp;nbsp;No shortcuts! Amen.&quot;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/feeds/671183615527546485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/714965167444566271/671183615527546485' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/671183615527546485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/671183615527546485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/2012/08/in-waiting.html' title='In The Waiting'/><author><name>Miriam Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02602670519801797127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj834CKS4V_vHm9Ns-pt3mU-dO74u6xawtvFKKnBJ7OIyTN522OnjtuF1c9cXMreGduy0yZud4XT9_2hAw_SxAKMYsR4WOSQYv2NgteqIYElK-88cdQAYR9Yr7ysViIhQ/s220/scan0001+%282%29.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-714965167444566271.post-3828589358038724511</id><published>2012-07-18T21:25:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2012-07-18T21:26:20.120-04:00</updated><title type='text'>&quot;No Thank You, I&#39;d Rather Be Me!&quot;</title><content type='html'>&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Today, as I drove in to work, I asked myself what it really means to be normal. &amp;nbsp;I quickly came to the conclusion that each one of us is perfectly normal! &amp;nbsp;So why all the fuss about trying to fit in and be like other people? &amp;nbsp;What if people were loved and accepted for who they are, just as they are? &amp;nbsp;How different would our world be?&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;I allowed my thoughts to wander a bit and I ended up in a place where even people with disabilities were accepted by others unconditionally. &amp;nbsp;I saw a classroom filled with children. &amp;nbsp;One little girl was seated near the window of the classroom. &amp;nbsp;My gaze fixed on her as she fidgeted and squirmed in her seat. Then, for just a few minutes, she stared blankly out of the window at the most beautiful butterfly I&#39;d ever seen! &amp;nbsp;At that moment, the teacher asked the little girl to answer a question about the lesson. &amp;nbsp;&quot;I&#39;m sorry, but I didn&#39;t hear the question. &amp;nbsp;I was watching a butterfly outside our classroom window. &amp;nbsp;Could you repeat it for me?&quot; &amp;nbsp;The teacher, very familiar with the little girl&#39;s tendency to lose focus, simply said. &amp;nbsp;&quot;Would you mind if we asked &lt;i&gt;you&lt;/i&gt; a few questions about the lovely butterfly that you saw? &amp;nbsp;I&#39;m sure the class would love to take a short break and hear all about it!&quot;. &amp;nbsp;The teacher, you see, realized that the little girl&#39;s behavior was, in fact, normal &lt;i&gt;for her&lt;/i&gt;. &amp;nbsp;Instead of&amp;nbsp;embarrassing&amp;nbsp;or scolding her, she seized the opportunity to boost the little girl&#39;s confidence. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&quot;Normal&quot; isn&#39;t the same for any two people because we are are wonderfully unique beings. &amp;nbsp;I realize that&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;we cannot coexist without some limitation on our self-expression, but I do believe that we would all do well to lighten up a bit and learn to meet people half way on some things! &amp;nbsp;One of the most unselfish attitudes that you can have is a willingness to put your own terms and agenda on hold while you make a sincere attempt to understand and adapt to the needs or behavior of another human being. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Children who are differently-abled deserve the same opportunities that everyone else has to express themselves and share their gift(s) with the world. &amp;nbsp;So the next time you encounter someone with abilities that are different from your own, don&#39;t be so quick to assume that they have nothing to offer you. &amp;nbsp;Don&#39;t smother their zeal and zest for life with an&amp;nbsp;over sized&amp;nbsp;pillow of your own agendas!&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; Listen, watch and learn. &amp;nbsp;Everyone has a story to tell and a gift to share!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/feeds/3828589358038724511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/714965167444566271/3828589358038724511' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/3828589358038724511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/3828589358038724511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/2012/07/no-thank-you-id-rather-be-me.html' title='&quot;No Thank You, I&#39;d Rather Be Me!&quot;'/><author><name>Miriam Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02602670519801797127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj834CKS4V_vHm9Ns-pt3mU-dO74u6xawtvFKKnBJ7OIyTN522OnjtuF1c9cXMreGduy0yZud4XT9_2hAw_SxAKMYsR4WOSQYv2NgteqIYElK-88cdQAYR9Yr7ysViIhQ/s220/scan0001+%282%29.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-714965167444566271.post-8475635224093379620</id><published>2012-07-09T20:24:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2012-07-09T20:24:25.712-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Be Not Entangled!</title><content type='html'>Catchy post title, but so much easier said than done! &amp;nbsp;It is hard not to get caught up, tangled up or tripped up by the circumstances that come our way, but God&#39;s word seems to suggest that there&lt;i&gt; is&lt;/i&gt; a way to do exactly that! &amp;nbsp;Admittedly, I&#39;m not always that good at steering clear of problems and other situations that seem to warrant my attention. &amp;nbsp;A researcher by nature, few things make me happier than researching a problem - tracking it down until it has nowhere to hide, and then constructing a plan of action to address it based on my findings. &amp;nbsp;This may seem a bit &quot;nerdy&quot; to some, but to each his own, right? &amp;nbsp;I&#39;m beginning to realize, however, that jumping head first into research without first asking God to guide me, is a colossal waste of my time and my energy.&lt;br /&gt;
The needs of our children can propel us to try to perform unbelievable feats of bravery, martyrdom and just plain old stupidity! &amp;nbsp;I&#39;m laughing at myself this time, folks because I have done some pretty crazy things - all in the name of meeting a need for my children. &amp;nbsp;What does it look and feel like to be entangled? &amp;nbsp;For me, sleepless night filled with worry, feelings or fear and anxiety were just some of the ways that I&#39;d allowed life&#39;s web of circumstances to hold me hostage. &amp;nbsp; Ever see a fly or an insect get stuck in a spider&#39;s web? &amp;nbsp;All of the twisting, turning and squirming in the world is usually not enough to free them from the spider&#39;s sticky trap. &amp;nbsp;I don&#39;t want to be like those insects. &amp;nbsp;From now on, I&#39;ll pray first, research some and try not to worry at all! &amp;nbsp;Entanglement can only come when I stand in the web long enough for it to engulf me. &amp;nbsp;So, I&#39;ll be quick on my feet and even quicker to get on my knees. &lt;br /&gt;
Right now, we are believing for the money to send my daughter to an alternative school this fall. &amp;nbsp;The cost of tuition is an astronomical $25,000/year! &amp;nbsp;Yowza!!! &amp;nbsp;I have to say that this one was a no brainer for me. &amp;nbsp;I wasted NO time and energy trying to figure out how to come up with $25,000 because I knew that there was no way that we could do it. &amp;nbsp;So I&#39;m resting now. &amp;nbsp;Resting in the peace that God knows exactly which school my daughter needs to enroll in this fall, and the fact that His provision in her life has been nothing short of miraculous thus far!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Disentangling now...stand by...</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/feeds/8475635224093379620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/714965167444566271/8475635224093379620' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/8475635224093379620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/8475635224093379620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/2012/07/be-not-entangled.html' title='Be Not Entangled!'/><author><name>Miriam Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02602670519801797127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj834CKS4V_vHm9Ns-pt3mU-dO74u6xawtvFKKnBJ7OIyTN522OnjtuF1c9cXMreGduy0yZud4XT9_2hAw_SxAKMYsR4WOSQYv2NgteqIYElK-88cdQAYR9Yr7ysViIhQ/s220/scan0001+%282%29.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-714965167444566271.post-2868912729998105055</id><published>2012-06-13T22:10:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2012-06-13T22:10:48.397-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What Are You Expecting?</title><content type='html'>To be truly and utterly disappointed in something or someone is probably one of the lowest emotional places that you can find yourself in. &amp;nbsp;Being disappointed means that you were expecting a result that failed to manifest (at least when YOU thought it would...).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Perhaps you didn&#39;t get that promotion at work or maybe you haven&#39;t yet seen the manifestation of something that God has promised you. &amp;nbsp;Whatever your disappoint was, I want to encourage you to &quot;get back in the saddle&quot; and raise your expectations once more. &amp;nbsp;Expectancy breeds hope, and hope breeds faith. &amp;nbsp;Faith, as you may know, is what moves God! &amp;nbsp;So, don&#39;t give up on your dreams, your marriage, your children or yourself. &amp;nbsp;Expect the great in everything! &amp;nbsp;This will be the catalyst for change in your life. &amp;nbsp;After all, if you&#39;re not expecting something great, how (and why) would you begin to move in that direction?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Without hope and expectancy, our lives become boring, uneventful and&amp;nbsp;predictable. &amp;nbsp;Faith and optimism have always propelled me forward in life...I have no intention of running in place now! &amp;nbsp;Onward and upward!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/feeds/2868912729998105055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/714965167444566271/2868912729998105055' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/2868912729998105055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/2868912729998105055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/2012/06/what-are-you-expecting.html' title='What Are You Expecting?'/><author><name>Miriam Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02602670519801797127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj834CKS4V_vHm9Ns-pt3mU-dO74u6xawtvFKKnBJ7OIyTN522OnjtuF1c9cXMreGduy0yZud4XT9_2hAw_SxAKMYsR4WOSQYv2NgteqIYElK-88cdQAYR9Yr7ysViIhQ/s220/scan0001+%282%29.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-714965167444566271.post-4611273639871851401</id><published>2012-05-20T18:20:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2012-05-20T18:20:37.107-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Need To Know Basis</title><content type='html'>God isn&#39;t obligated to lay out the plans that He has for our lives for our scrutiny and inspection. &amp;nbsp;Ever think about how different your life would be if you got to pick and choose everything that did or didn&#39;t happen to you? &amp;nbsp;I&#39;ve been pondering this today and have come to the conclusion that I&#39;m happy with things just as they are right now. &amp;nbsp;If given a choice about how (or if) I experienced certain events in my life, I&#39;m sure that I would choose unwisely most of the time. &amp;nbsp;In my attempts to escape heartbreak and suffering, I might miss some really important lessons on love and trust that only these kinds of experiences could teach me. &amp;nbsp;Decisions to eliminate difficult times might cause me to miss out on experiences that had the potential to build my character and my faith in God. &lt;br /&gt;
Making choices like these is a job that I just don&#39;t want. &amp;nbsp;God&#39;s will and plan for my life are extremely important and in His infinite wisdom, He already knows the plans that He has for me! &amp;nbsp;My job is to trust His plan, pray His will (which is His Word) for my life and seek His kingdom first. &amp;nbsp;Staying faithful over these few tasks is a job that I can handle!&lt;br /&gt;
God doesn&#39;t have to show or tell me how my life will unravel. &amp;nbsp;Having knowledge of what the future holds for me would likely be too much for me to handle anyway. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;m content to live each day, seeking to do the will of the Father in all that I do. &amp;nbsp;If I can do that, God is free to move to shape my destiny - just as He&#39;d planned to, &amp;nbsp;before I ever came to be.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/feeds/4611273639871851401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/714965167444566271/4611273639871851401' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/4611273639871851401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/4611273639871851401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/2012/05/need-to-know-basis.html' title='Need To Know Basis'/><author><name>Miriam Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02602670519801797127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj834CKS4V_vHm9Ns-pt3mU-dO74u6xawtvFKKnBJ7OIyTN522OnjtuF1c9cXMreGduy0yZud4XT9_2hAw_SxAKMYsR4WOSQYv2NgteqIYElK-88cdQAYR9Yr7ysViIhQ/s220/scan0001+%282%29.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-714965167444566271.post-824530206242596508</id><published>2012-05-02T23:00:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2012-05-02T23:00:21.725-04:00</updated><title type='text'>&quot;I Almost Let Go&quot; by Kurt Karr</title><content type='html'>I heard this song on the radio today as I was driving home. &amp;nbsp;The words are so powerful that I thought I&#39;d share them here with you. &amp;nbsp;Be encouraged!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;I Almost Let Go&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-left;&quot;&gt;I almost let go.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style=&quot;color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-left;&quot; /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-left;&quot;&gt;I felt like I just couldn&#39;t take life anymore.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style=&quot;color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-left;&quot; /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-left;&quot;&gt;My problems had me bound&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style=&quot;color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-left;&quot; /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-left;&quot;&gt;Depression weighed me down.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style=&quot;color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-left;&quot; /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-left;&quot;&gt;But God held me close, so I wouldn&#39;t let go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style=&quot;color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-left;&quot; /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-left;&quot;&gt;God&#39;s mercy kept me, so I wouldn&#39;t let go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style=&quot;color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-left;&quot; /&gt;&lt;br style=&quot;color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-left;&quot; /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-left;&quot;&gt;I almost gave up.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style=&quot;color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-left;&quot; /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-left;&quot;&gt;I was right at the edge of a breakthrough but couldn&#39;t see it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style=&quot;color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-left;&quot; /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-left;&quot;&gt;The devil really had me;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style=&quot;color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-left;&quot; /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-left;&quot;&gt;but Jesus came and grabbed me,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style=&quot;color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-left;&quot; /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-left;&quot;&gt;And He held me close,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style=&quot;color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-left;&quot; /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-left;&quot;&gt;So I wouldn&#39;t let go.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style=&quot;color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-left;&quot; /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-left;&quot;&gt;God&#39;s mercy kept me,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style=&quot;color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-left;&quot; /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-left;&quot;&gt;so I wouldn&#39;t let go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style=&quot;color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-left;&quot; /&gt;&lt;br style=&quot;color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-left;&quot; /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-left;&quot;&gt;So I&#39;m here today because God kept me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style=&quot;color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-left;&quot; /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-left;&quot;&gt;I&#39;m alive today,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style=&quot;color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-left;&quot; /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-left;&quot;&gt;only because of His grace.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style=&quot;color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-left;&quot; /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-left;&quot;&gt;Oh, He Kept me,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style=&quot;color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-left;&quot; /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-left;&quot;&gt;God Kept me,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style=&quot;color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-left;&quot; /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-left;&quot;&gt;He kept me,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style=&quot;color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-left;&quot; /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #545559; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-left;&quot;&gt;So I wouldn&#39;t let go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/feeds/824530206242596508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/714965167444566271/824530206242596508' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/824530206242596508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/824530206242596508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/2012/05/i-almost-let-go-by-kurt-karr.html' title='&quot;I Almost Let Go&quot; by Kurt Karr'/><author><name>Miriam Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02602670519801797127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj834CKS4V_vHm9Ns-pt3mU-dO74u6xawtvFKKnBJ7OIyTN522OnjtuF1c9cXMreGduy0yZud4XT9_2hAw_SxAKMYsR4WOSQYv2NgteqIYElK-88cdQAYR9Yr7ysViIhQ/s220/scan0001+%282%29.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-714965167444566271.post-4939091310264696790</id><published>2012-04-15T15:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-04-15T15:54:39.386-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What If?</title><content type='html'>Have you ever considered that people with autism or ADHD are not disabled but, rather, are here in our midst to teach us something? &amp;nbsp;What if that &quot;something&quot; is a lesson that only they can teach us? &amp;nbsp;Perhaps they are the trendsetters, here to teach us all a better way of living and loving. &amp;nbsp;What if autism and ADHD aren&#39;t really disabilities at all?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If we focus all of our attention on our differences, we will miss the innate beauty that every person possesses. &amp;nbsp;It is vitally important then, that we embrace the uniqueness of every person that we meet. &amp;nbsp;Be hesitant to judge. &amp;nbsp;Instead, choose to listen, observe and learn. &amp;nbsp;We are all teachers of something. &amp;nbsp;Sadly, many of us are unaware of our giftings because they lie buried so deeply within us.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&quot;Wherefore I put thee in rememberance that thou stir up the gift of God, which is in thee by the putting on of my hands&quot; &amp;nbsp; II Timothy 1:6&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
April is autism awareness month. &amp;nbsp;Why not choose this month to begin looking at those who are differently-abled &amp;nbsp;in a more positive light? &amp;nbsp;By society&#39;s standards, anyone who does not (cannot) conform to the established norms, is somehow disabled. &amp;nbsp;I personally do not like the word disabled because is suggests helplessness, inability and insufficiency. &amp;nbsp;I prefer the term differently-abled because there is no negative connotation. &amp;nbsp;Doing something differently doesn&#39;t mean that you&#39;re doing it wrong. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As individuals and as a collective society, we would all do well to look upon others with acceptance and compassion. &amp;nbsp;We must train ourselves to look for and expect the greatness in other people, no matter what their appearance, ethnicity or social status might be.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/feeds/4939091310264696790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/714965167444566271/4939091310264696790' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/4939091310264696790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/4939091310264696790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/2012/04/what-if.html' title='What If?'/><author><name>Miriam Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02602670519801797127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj834CKS4V_vHm9Ns-pt3mU-dO74u6xawtvFKKnBJ7OIyTN522OnjtuF1c9cXMreGduy0yZud4XT9_2hAw_SxAKMYsR4WOSQYv2NgteqIYElK-88cdQAYR9Yr7ysViIhQ/s220/scan0001+%282%29.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-714965167444566271.post-1609860703943324475</id><published>2012-04-03T22:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-04-03T22:45:16.793-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Heavy Heart, Crocodile Tears...</title><content type='html'>My baby cried tonight and it broke my heart. I&#39;ve seen her cry countless times, but tonight I wanted to shed my own tears as I listened to her talk about her day at school. &amp;nbsp;Today, those that she thought were her friends, suddenly became her tormentors. &amp;nbsp;&quot;Let&#39;s not talk to her anymore&quot;, she heard them whisper. &amp;nbsp;&quot;The plan starts now so don&#39;t play with her&quot;, she heard another say. &amp;nbsp;It was the first time that she&#39;d been made to feel like an outsider by those that she trusted. &amp;nbsp; Until today, she&#39;d felt like she belonged. &amp;nbsp;&quot;Nobody would tell me why they wouldn&#39;t talk to me&quot;, she sobbed. &amp;nbsp;I suggested that it may have been a joke that her friends were playing on her. &amp;nbsp;While this may have been the case, Christina saw no humor in their behavior towards her, and neither did I. &amp;nbsp;Navigating the social world of a 12 year old girl is hard enough without this sort of thing coming into play. &amp;nbsp;In fact, &lt;i&gt;many&lt;/i&gt; children with ADHD, learning challenges or other disabilities struggle to keep their heads above water socially - especially during their &quot;tweenage&quot; and teenage years. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Today was also the first time that Christina verbalized her feelings to me about feeling &quot;different&quot;. &amp;nbsp;I thank God for prompting me to talk to her yesterday about her feelings. &amp;nbsp;I &amp;nbsp;let her know that she could talk to me about anything....even things that she herself doesn&#39;t understand. &amp;nbsp;She told me tonight that she remembered me telling her this at bedtime last night, and when the painful memories of her school day suddenly came flooding back to her at 7:30 tonight, &amp;nbsp;she knew that this was something she could come to me with. &amp;nbsp;We prayed together and I asked God to give her His strength and His peace. I hugged her and she hugged me back...hard. &amp;nbsp; I talked to her for a long time about why other kids say and do such mean things to others. I encouraged her to think about how awful she was feeling and remember that no one likes to be laughed at or made fun of the next time that she is tempted to make fun of someone else. &amp;nbsp;I told her that if this kind of thing happens again, anywhere, she is to find an adult that she can trust and let them know what is happening. &amp;nbsp; Perhaps most importantly though, I told her that I loved her and that&lt;b&gt; everyone&lt;/b&gt; is unique in some way, not just her.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I knew this day would come, yet I found myself completely unprepared for the intense emotions that I experienced. &amp;nbsp;I was sad, hurt and angry all at once. &amp;nbsp;Impulsively, I wanted to defend Christina and report the other students to her teacher and, at first, she agreed with my plan. &amp;nbsp;Then, the Lord had me ask her again. &amp;nbsp;&quot;Do you want me to call your teacher to tell her about this or do you want to see how things go tomorrow first?&quot;. &amp;nbsp;Bravely she answered, &quot;I want to see how tomorrow goes first.&quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;ll whisper an extra prayer for my baby girl tomorrow when I drop her off at school. &amp;nbsp;Today was a tough day of firsts for her. &amp;nbsp;Still, in the midst of it all, God was right there preparing the way for her. &amp;nbsp;He didn&#39;t change the course of events that played out today at school, but He did help us both to prepare for them! &amp;nbsp;The paths that we take in our lives won&#39;t always be the easy ones, but I&#39;ve learned that God ALWAYS goes before us no matter where our journey make take us!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/feeds/1609860703943324475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/714965167444566271/1609860703943324475' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/1609860703943324475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/1609860703943324475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/2012/04/heavy-heart-crocodile-tears.html' title='Heavy Heart, Crocodile Tears...'/><author><name>Miriam Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02602670519801797127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj834CKS4V_vHm9Ns-pt3mU-dO74u6xawtvFKKnBJ7OIyTN522OnjtuF1c9cXMreGduy0yZud4XT9_2hAw_SxAKMYsR4WOSQYv2NgteqIYElK-88cdQAYR9Yr7ysViIhQ/s220/scan0001+%282%29.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-714965167444566271.post-5847836002310679250</id><published>2012-03-30T22:57:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-03-30T22:57:59.331-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Butterfly Memories</title><content type='html'>Today, I paused to reflect on my past and my journey through this thing called &quot;life&quot;. &amp;nbsp;When I looked back, the scenery was a bit faded...some of the colors dulled by the passage of time, I imagined. &amp;nbsp;I wished that I could remember more, but I couldn&#39;t. The memories seemed to have fluttered away like butterflies. &amp;nbsp;I strained my eyes and stretched my neck as far as I could to be able to take a look back down the road that I&#39;d traveled. &amp;nbsp;Was that me there, in the middle of that group of children, laughing and playing without a care in the world? &amp;nbsp;It was! &amp;nbsp;I smiled and stared intently at this memory until it too began to lose it&#39;s vibrancy and fade away. &amp;nbsp;That&#39;s how it always happens, you know. &amp;nbsp;My memories of events that happened years ago are often very subdued and illustrated in neutral hues of ashen gray and charcoal black in my mind. &amp;nbsp;I suppose this could be considered a good thing because these dull, cryptic memories often prevent me from being able to &amp;nbsp;recall the details of the most emotionally difficult and painful times of my life. &amp;nbsp;I do feel a little cheated though, because when I look back I cannot see or remember the bright flowers that I know were there along the way. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Perhaps it&#39;s best for me &lt;i&gt;not&lt;/i&gt; to remember the details and specifics of some of those dark, difficult times. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;ve accepted the newness of life that Jesus Christ offered to me and I am free! &amp;nbsp;I don&#39;t allow myself to be shackled by sadness, fear or depression! &amp;nbsp;Today, I continue on my journey, looking for ways to make the most of what God has given me every step of the way. &amp;nbsp;I believe that God gives His children good things and perfect gifts. &amp;nbsp;This belief is what prompts me to look for the good in every situation or circumstance that befalls me. &amp;nbsp;Though not always obvious, some good can come of just about anything that can happen in this human experience. &amp;nbsp;Love is the key! &amp;nbsp;Perhaps India Arie said it best when she said that &quot;the highest expression of love is to give without expecting...the highest expression of love is to accept without exception.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Positive thinking and purposeful living are the paint and paint brush that I use to create meaningful memories in my life now. &amp;nbsp;Memories that are vibrant, colorful and full of energy. &amp;nbsp;Indeed, these are unforgettable memories. &amp;nbsp;Fear, unbelief, doubt and depression have been put in their place. &amp;nbsp;I am convinced of God&#39;s perfect wisdom concerning me and I know that He is&amp;nbsp;sovereign. &amp;nbsp;In fact, I&#39;m believing God for a pretty tall order right now...one that will take a true miracle to bring to pass, and guess what? &amp;nbsp;God has already begun to show me how He&#39;ll create this miracle right before my eyes! &amp;nbsp;A miracle? &amp;nbsp;Yes indeed, and a memory I&#39;m sure that I will never forget.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/feeds/5847836002310679250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/714965167444566271/5847836002310679250' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/5847836002310679250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/5847836002310679250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/2012/03/butterfly-memories.html' title='Butterfly Memories'/><author><name>Miriam Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02602670519801797127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj834CKS4V_vHm9Ns-pt3mU-dO74u6xawtvFKKnBJ7OIyTN522OnjtuF1c9cXMreGduy0yZud4XT9_2hAw_SxAKMYsR4WOSQYv2NgteqIYElK-88cdQAYR9Yr7ysViIhQ/s220/scan0001+%282%29.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-714965167444566271.post-9209626121793758505</id><published>2012-03-13T23:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-03-13T23:21:51.969-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Love Lifted Me!</title><content type='html'>You may have noticed that I&#39;ve been strangely silent for over a week now. &amp;nbsp;Last week was a very difficult week for me, though I&#39;m not quite sure why. &amp;nbsp;My evenings were spent as they usually are - helping Christina to get through her homework, preparing dinner, and trying to get ready for the next day all at the same time! &amp;nbsp;By Thursday, I felt as if I would either explode, sink or both! &amp;nbsp;I realized that I&#39;d been feeling stressed and anxious, but I couldn&#39;t explain why. &amp;nbsp;Perhaps it was the renewed realization of how Christina&#39;s ADHD and learning disabilities affect her in all areas of her life, not just academics.&lt;br /&gt;
She is immature for her age and still needs to be reminded to do many of the tasks that she performs every day. &amp;nbsp;I sound like a broken record most mornings: &quot;Did you put on deodorant? &amp;nbsp;Have you packed your book bag for school? &amp;nbsp;Did you put lotion on when you got out of the shower?&quot; &amp;nbsp;Somehow, she manages to forget to do these things no matter how often I remind her. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;ve learned that such behavior is typical of children with challenges like hers. &amp;nbsp;She is 12 years old now and has a few close acquaintances, but her interactions with them are sometimes strained and awkward. &amp;nbsp;She doesn&#39;t really understand many of the social &quot;rules&quot; of friendship. &amp;nbsp;It breaks my heart to have to tell her that she should probably stop emailing and texting one of her &quot;friends&quot; because they haven&#39;t responded to any of her texts or emails. &amp;nbsp;The sad look in her eyes seemed to ask &quot;Why won&#39;t she call me back? &amp;nbsp;What did I do?&quot; &amp;nbsp;I tell her that we all meet people in our lifetimes who will be close to us for different lengths of time and for different reasons. &amp;nbsp;I also tell her that sometimes, even when we want to be friends with a person very badly, that person may not feel the same way and may not want to be friends. Its not necessarily because of anything that we&#39;ve done. &amp;nbsp;Sometimes people are only meant to be close to us for a short time. &amp;nbsp;That&#39;s all. &amp;nbsp; I had hoped that she would somehow manage to &quot;fit in&quot; with her peers throughout adolescence, but the realization that both she and her &quot;friends&quot; are beginning to notice that she is different makes me want to cry sometimes. I feel a little sad because I want her life to be easier. &amp;nbsp;She works so hard at school and still cannot retain much of the information that she&#39;s learned. &amp;nbsp;She tries hard not to behave inappropriately, but often repeats concerning behaviors because she lacks insight into her own behavior. &amp;nbsp;She tries so hard at everything...I just wish that I could make her life easier somehow. &amp;nbsp;I don&#39;t think that anyone is teasing or bullying her, but I have noticed that some of the &quot;friends&quot; that she&#39;s had for years are suddenly too busy to hang out with her when I call their moms to arrange a visit lately.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;ve decided to get Christina involved in some activities to occupy her time and to build her self-esteem. &amp;nbsp;We sign up for track this Thursday. &amp;nbsp;She&#39;s also on a nail polish kick right now, so I bought her three bottles of it during my last trip to Walgreens. &amp;nbsp;She was absolutely thrilled and retreated to her bedroom to polish her nails right away. &amp;nbsp;When she was done, she proudly showed me her handiwork. &amp;nbsp;I asked her why she&#39;d used all three of the colors at once. &amp;nbsp;&quot; &#39;Cause I like it that way, mommy&quot; was her response. &amp;nbsp;I liked that answer, so I fought back the urge to demand that she take it off. &amp;nbsp;&quot;She&#39;s going to have to learn to begin to trust her own feelings and thoughts&quot;, I thought to myself. &amp;nbsp;&quot;She may as well start with deciding how she wants her own nails to look!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;Equally overwhelming last week, &amp;nbsp;were my feelings of guilt and inadequacy concerning my hubby. &amp;nbsp;I was completely exhausted, in every way possible, all week long and found it difficult to muster up the mental and emotional energy to make it through each day. &amp;nbsp;Still, he needed and wanted some of my attention too. &amp;nbsp;Was that really too much to ask of me? &amp;nbsp;I know that he didn&#39;t feel like it was, but with the way I was feeling, he may as well have been asking me for a limb or a vital organ! &amp;nbsp;Unfair to him? &amp;nbsp;Probably. &amp;nbsp;I felt like my giving tree had dried up and wilted. &amp;nbsp;My branches were bowing under what felt like the weight of the world. &amp;nbsp; I needed to recharge mentally, emotionally and spiritually. &amp;nbsp;I cried out to God as I have many, many times before. &amp;nbsp;He was right there with a giant &quot;hug&quot;, tailor made for me, in the form of one of my favorite hymns. &amp;nbsp;I hadn&#39;t sung the song since I was a girl attending church back in NY. &amp;nbsp;I hummed the tune softly at first, amazed that I still remembered it after so many years had passed. &amp;nbsp;Then, the Lord reminded me that He&#39;d promised to inhabit my praises. &amp;nbsp;I decided to sing the words because I wanted (needed) God to draw near to me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: red;&quot;&gt;&quot;I was sinking deep in sin, far from a peaceful shore. &amp;nbsp;Very deeply stained within, sinking to rise no more. &amp;nbsp;But the master of the sea heard my despairing cry. &amp;nbsp;From the waters lifted me, now safe am I! &amp;nbsp;Love lifted me! &amp;nbsp;Love lifted me! &amp;nbsp;When nothing else could help, love lifted me!&quot;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As I sang, the heaviness began to break away. &amp;nbsp;It was true - I had felt as if I was sinking to rise no more, but the more I sang and&amp;nbsp;fellow shipped&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The branches of my giving tree are reaching for the sky once again!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I know that I&#39;ll experience highs and lows along this journey. &amp;nbsp;I want to run the race before me with excellence and in a way that is pleasing to God. &amp;nbsp;So I asked Him to forgive me for worrying so much about the future last week. &amp;nbsp;After all, its&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;His&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;job to order my steps, not mine!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/feeds/9209626121793758505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/714965167444566271/9209626121793758505' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/9209626121793758505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/9209626121793758505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/2012/03/love-lifted-me.html' title='Love Lifted Me!'/><author><name>Miriam Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02602670519801797127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj834CKS4V_vHm9Ns-pt3mU-dO74u6xawtvFKKnBJ7OIyTN522OnjtuF1c9cXMreGduy0yZud4XT9_2hAw_SxAKMYsR4WOSQYv2NgteqIYElK-88cdQAYR9Yr7ysViIhQ/s220/scan0001+%282%29.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-714965167444566271.post-6327084849445212673</id><published>2012-02-26T19:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-02-26T19:39:07.509-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It Wasn&#39;t Mine To Wear - A Poem (Of Sorts...)</title><content type='html'>I saw a pretty hat yesterday. &amp;nbsp;It was a hat that I wanted more than anything to put on, the very moment that I saw it! &amp;nbsp;The hat was made of the most beautiful fabric. &amp;nbsp;It looked like it would be as soft as a cloud if I touched it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
How different my life would be, if only I could trade the hat on my head for the beautiful hat that I saw yesterday. &amp;nbsp;But wait... would a different life be the life that God had perfectly orchestrated just for me? &amp;nbsp;I think not.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I think that the hat that I am wearing in this moment... in this place... is the hat that I must wear. &amp;nbsp;It is my hat and no one else has one just like it! &amp;nbsp;Some days, I have to remind myself to embrace the uniqueness of my hat. &amp;nbsp;Oddly shaped and difficult to adjust, my hat requires me to work with it sometimes, to get it in just the right position on top of my head. &amp;nbsp;Still, it is my hat and no one else has one just like it!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There are prettier, more expensive looking hats than the one that I&#39;ve been given to wear, but these hats do not belong to me. &amp;nbsp;It&#39;s all a matter a perspective, I suppose. &amp;nbsp;Some people may look at my hat and admire it. &amp;nbsp;They may wish for a hat like mine without realizing what I had to do to get my hat to look this way. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My hat belongs only to me. &amp;nbsp;I will find ways to make it work for me, then. &amp;nbsp;What do I desire most from my hat? &amp;nbsp;Only that it will embrace me in the same way that I have chosen embrace it.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/feeds/6327084849445212673/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/714965167444566271/6327084849445212673' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/6327084849445212673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/6327084849445212673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/2012/02/it-wasnt-mine-to-wear-poem-of-sorts.html' title='It Wasn&#39;t Mine To Wear - A Poem (Of Sorts...)'/><author><name>Miriam Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02602670519801797127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj834CKS4V_vHm9Ns-pt3mU-dO74u6xawtvFKKnBJ7OIyTN522OnjtuF1c9cXMreGduy0yZud4XT9_2hAw_SxAKMYsR4WOSQYv2NgteqIYElK-88cdQAYR9Yr7ysViIhQ/s220/scan0001+%282%29.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-714965167444566271.post-2932693877710245529</id><published>2012-02-19T20:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-02-19T20:40:34.152-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Still Learning, Still Believing</title><content type='html'>This post is dedicated to my daughter. &amp;nbsp;I have learned a lot over the years about your needs, fears, likes and dislikes, yet still I don&#39;t feel like I know nearly enough. &amp;nbsp;I lose patience with you at times. &amp;nbsp;In those moments, I forget or just don&#39;t realize that much of your behavior is a manifestation of the challenges that you face, day in and day out. &amp;nbsp;You are my champion, my hero. &amp;nbsp;You don&#39;t understand the reasons behind many your behaviors either, so forgive me for demanding explanations for things that you cannot give me. &amp;nbsp;Together, we will continue to move forward. &amp;nbsp;I will do my best to help you to understand yourself and the world around you, and I don&#39;t take that responsibility lightly! Every person has a gift that he/she brings into the world when they are born. &amp;nbsp;You are no exception! Your resilient sense of determination assures me that you will achieve your dreams. &amp;nbsp;You may have your own way of getting there, but you will get there. &amp;nbsp;I am so blessed to be your mother. &amp;nbsp;I hope that you feel equally as blessed to have me.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/feeds/2932693877710245529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/714965167444566271/2932693877710245529' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/2932693877710245529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/2932693877710245529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/2012/02/still-learning-still-believing.html' title='Still Learning, Still Believing'/><author><name>Miriam Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02602670519801797127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj834CKS4V_vHm9Ns-pt3mU-dO74u6xawtvFKKnBJ7OIyTN522OnjtuF1c9cXMreGduy0yZud4XT9_2hAw_SxAKMYsR4WOSQYv2NgteqIYElK-88cdQAYR9Yr7ysViIhQ/s220/scan0001+%282%29.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-714965167444566271.post-8581929514743708508</id><published>2012-02-08T22:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-02-08T22:57:41.162-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Valley Low</title><content type='html'>These past few evenings have definitely felt like &quot;givin&#39; up days&quot;. &amp;nbsp;&quot;Givin&#39; up days&quot; is a phrase that singer/songwriter, Kirk Franklin eloquently coined in a song on one of his more recent albums. &amp;nbsp;We all have them. &amp;nbsp;You know, the days that you don&#39;t want to pursue your goals and aspirations anymore because it all feels so pointless. &amp;nbsp;Or the days that you question your faith and wonder if God has become distracted with someone else&#39;s life and taken His hands off of the steering wheel of yours. &amp;nbsp;I know that God is still with us, but the daily struggle is sometimes overwhelming. &amp;nbsp;Take the past two evenings. &amp;nbsp;All of my weeknight evenings are spent monitoring or helping my daughter while she completes her homework, attempting to prepare dinner, and trying (often in vain) to get a head start on preparing for the next day. &amp;nbsp;I often feel as if I&#39;m being pulled in 20 directions at once! &amp;nbsp;The homework struggles are the most difficult. &amp;nbsp;Parenting a child with special needs is hard, but the hardest part is, perhaps, seeing the looks of despair, frustration and hopelessness on my daughter&#39;s face as she attempts to complete her nightly assignments. &amp;nbsp;She wants to &quot;get it&quot;, but it often just doesn&#39;t &quot;click&quot; for her. &amp;nbsp;So night after night we chunk information and repeat it, hoping that she will be able to remember it by the end of the week. &amp;nbsp;Some of it, she remembers and the rest is forgotten by the time her tests and quizzes are given. &amp;nbsp;I hug her because I feel her sadness and in the next minute I become frustrated with her because she seems to intentionally do the exact opposite of everything that I ask her to do! &amp;nbsp;Is it noncompliance or incompetence? &amp;nbsp;It&#39;s becoming more and more difficult to tell. &lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m beginning to wonder if her current school placement is right for her. &amp;nbsp;The teacher/student ratio is great - 9 students to 1 teacher. &amp;nbsp;The curriculum, on the other hand, is fast-paced and a little advanced. &amp;nbsp;My daughter doesn&#39;t get A&#39;s, but she manages to keep her head above water. &amp;nbsp;&quot;But at what cost?&quot;, I&#39;ve been asking myself lately. &amp;nbsp;I will not allow her self-esteem and confidence to be trampled while she struggles to keep pace at school. &amp;nbsp;There doesn&#39;t seem to be a school in our area that is really a good fit for her. &amp;nbsp;The large class sizes at the public middle school would be too much for her. &amp;nbsp;My daughter&#39;s gullibility and social immaturity would also make her an easy target there. &amp;nbsp;Tuition costs at private schools for children with special learning challenges are astronomical, placing them far out of our reach. &amp;nbsp;So for now, we will fight on and try to get through the rest of the school year taking it one day at a time. &amp;nbsp;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/feeds/8581929514743708508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/714965167444566271/8581929514743708508' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/8581929514743708508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/8581929514743708508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/2012/02/valley-low.html' title='Valley Low'/><author><name>Miriam Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02602670519801797127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj834CKS4V_vHm9Ns-pt3mU-dO74u6xawtvFKKnBJ7OIyTN522OnjtuF1c9cXMreGduy0yZud4XT9_2hAw_SxAKMYsR4WOSQYv2NgteqIYElK-88cdQAYR9Yr7ysViIhQ/s220/scan0001+%282%29.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-714965167444566271.post-4655737100751849066</id><published>2012-01-15T20:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-15T20:46:18.696-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Perfect Timing</title><content type='html'>I met an interesting&amp;nbsp;young lady at&amp;nbsp;my book discussion yesterday.&amp;nbsp; She hadn&#39;t come to the library to attend&amp;nbsp;my event.&amp;nbsp; To be honest, I&#39;m not sure sure &lt;em&gt;why&lt;/em&gt; she was at the library.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Regardless of her reasons for coming, her presence at my event made it all worthwhile.&amp;nbsp; This young woman was invited into the meeting room by my mother who was dutifully standing at the library&#39;s entrance to greet visitors as they entered the building.&amp;nbsp; She cheerfully&amp;nbsp;encouraged&amp;nbsp;every person who passed by&amp;nbsp;to sit in on a book discussion by a &quot;new, very talented, local author&quot; (thanks Mom!!).&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
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As the young woman made her way down the short hallway to our meeting room, I caught up with her and introduced myself.&amp;nbsp; I went on to tell her a little bit about my book and the various community resources that were available along the tables that lined the back of the room.&amp;nbsp; &quot;I have autism, but nobody believes me when I tell them that I do... not even my mother&quot;, she confided.&amp;nbsp; She began to tell me about her fears and feelings.&amp;nbsp; She told me all about the coping mechanisms that she&#39;d developed over her lifetime to help her to deal with the sensory overload that she often experiences.&amp;nbsp; I took to her right away, deeply touched by her childlike innocence and her willingness to share her most intimate thoughts and feeling with me.&amp;nbsp; Though hesitant about taking a seat and staying for the book discussion at first, she decided to stay when I told her it would be perfectly fine for her to have as many glazed doughnuts as she wanted.&amp;nbsp; &quot;They&#39;re my favorite!&quot;, she shrieked with excitement and she scopped&amp;nbsp;three of them up&amp;nbsp;in her napkin.&amp;nbsp; Satisfied, she began to make her way to the seats near the front of the room.&lt;br /&gt;
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I began the book discussion and soon found that my new friend was very articulate and eager to learn as much as she could about autism.&amp;nbsp; She asked questions about the book as I went along and seemed satisfied when I gave my answers.&amp;nbsp; The second part of my presentation was more of a hands on activity for those in attendance.&amp;nbsp; As I spoke to them about maintaining a positive outlook in the face of chronic illness or disability, every person seemed genuinely interested.&amp;nbsp; As I talked them through the activity, explaining the significance of each prop that I&#39;d provided, I posed a question to the entire group.&amp;nbsp; I asked them about the things in their lives that seemed or felt most&amp;nbsp;unpleasant.&amp;nbsp; &quot;I feel isolated&quot;, the young woman said firmly, almost angrily.&amp;nbsp; My heart went out to her because I understood what she meant.&amp;nbsp; She said that she really didn&#39;t have anyone to talk to who understood her and that her being in that meeting yesterday was &quot;a gift from God&quot;.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
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As it turned out, there were several people who stopped in to chat with us yesterday&amp;nbsp;and pick up information from our resource tables.&amp;nbsp; Each person, it seemed, felt that they were &lt;em&gt;supposed&lt;/em&gt; to be there, though they hadn&#39;t had any prior knowledge of our meeting, me, or my book!&amp;nbsp; I was humbled by the entire experience and grateful that God had used me and my co-presenter to meet the needs of those He&#39;d purposed to come into our midst.&amp;nbsp; It was nice to sell a few books, but it was fantastic to be used of God to serve others in the process.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Yes, His timing &lt;em&gt;is&lt;/em&gt; always perfect!&amp;nbsp; Amen!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/feeds/4655737100751849066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/714965167444566271/4655737100751849066' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/4655737100751849066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/4655737100751849066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/2012/01/perfect-timing.html' title='Perfect Timing'/><author><name>Miriam Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02602670519801797127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj834CKS4V_vHm9Ns-pt3mU-dO74u6xawtvFKKnBJ7OIyTN522OnjtuF1c9cXMreGduy0yZud4XT9_2hAw_SxAKMYsR4WOSQYv2NgteqIYElK-88cdQAYR9Yr7ysViIhQ/s220/scan0001+%282%29.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-714965167444566271.post-6103473867372062740</id><published>2012-01-08T20:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-08T20:58:46.612-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Seasons Change</title><content type='html'>I&#39;m not sure who I&#39;ve heard say this, but &lt;em&gt;whomever &lt;/em&gt;it was, really&amp;nbsp;got me to thinking when they referred to God as&amp;nbsp;&quot;a God of seasons&quot;.&amp;nbsp; I&#39;ve thought about this time and time again, and have to say that I agree.&amp;nbsp; As we cycle through the seasons of our lives, isn&#39;t He right there with us?&amp;nbsp; We cycle through good times and bad times.&amp;nbsp; Some seasons come upon us suddenly, without giving us much time to prepare for them.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;The &quot;what if&quot; questions come easily, but the answers to them are elusive. God, knows&amp;nbsp;when the&amp;nbsp;difficult, dry&amp;nbsp;seasons&amp;nbsp;of our lives will come&amp;nbsp;and&amp;nbsp; He graciously sends&amp;nbsp;His provision, grace and mercy ahead of us to equip us for the climate!&amp;nbsp; I forget that sometimes.&amp;nbsp; I become so overwhelmed at times with the vastness of the &quot;place&quot; that I am in at times, that I fail to recognize His sustaining power.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
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There&amp;nbsp;are no loud claps of thunder or trumpets that announce or remind us of God&#39;s presence in our every day lives,&amp;nbsp;yet He is always there.&amp;nbsp; How refreshing to know that He knows my name and&amp;nbsp;is concerned about me!&amp;nbsp; Though the heat of the season I am in right now is stifling...almost suffocating at times...I am reminded that I am not alone.&amp;nbsp; I don&#39;t have answers for many of the situations present themselves, but I&#39;m encouraged to know that I don&#39;t have to.&amp;nbsp; It isn&#39;t my job to know all of the answers, so I&#39;m letting myself off the hook on that one :)&amp;nbsp;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/feeds/6103473867372062740/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/714965167444566271/6103473867372062740' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/6103473867372062740'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/6103473867372062740'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/2012/01/seasons-change.html' title='Seasons Change'/><author><name>Miriam Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02602670519801797127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj834CKS4V_vHm9Ns-pt3mU-dO74u6xawtvFKKnBJ7OIyTN522OnjtuF1c9cXMreGduy0yZud4XT9_2hAw_SxAKMYsR4WOSQYv2NgteqIYElK-88cdQAYR9Yr7ysViIhQ/s220/scan0001+%282%29.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-714965167444566271.post-1965587762189558588</id><published>2011-12-31T22:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-31T22:24:31.335-05:00</updated><title type='text'>New Year, New Resolve</title><content type='html'>I won&#39;t be making any New Year&#39;s resolutions this year.&amp;nbsp; I&#39;ve decided that any&amp;nbsp;positive thing&amp;nbsp;I resolve to do from now on, I&#39;ll be doing&amp;nbsp;for the rest of my life, not just for 2012. &lt;br /&gt;
Tonight, as I sit here and&amp;nbsp;write this post, I resolve to continue to seek God&#39;s will for my life so that I can continue to walk out my destiny, in Him.&amp;nbsp; The challenges that the new year brings may be familiar or completely new.&amp;nbsp; Either way, it doesn&#39;t really matter.&amp;nbsp; I am confident in God&#39;s ability to take care of me.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;You see, I&#39;ve learned that the curve balls that life throws at me don&#39;t necessarily have to cause me to strike out.&amp;nbsp; Unprepared though I may be, nothing takes God by surprise!&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
There&amp;nbsp;are a few&amp;nbsp;things that I will commit to doing from now on, as well.&amp;nbsp; I will commit to riding in the passenger seat&amp;nbsp;and letting God take the wheel.&amp;nbsp; I will try not to get ahead of Him, even when I think things are moving along too slowly.&amp;nbsp;I will not allow doubt or fear to immobilize me and cause&amp;nbsp;me to fall&amp;nbsp;out of step with&amp;nbsp;my destiny.&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;I will continue to trust Him even when the unthinkable happens.&amp;nbsp; I will continue to place my hope in God&amp;nbsp;and expect&amp;nbsp;His beauty in place of any&amp;nbsp;ashes that I find along my journey.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
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This moment holds the beginning of the rest of your life too.&amp;nbsp; What are you committed to doing (or not doing)&amp;nbsp;in the interest of discovering and walking out your destiny?</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/feeds/1965587762189558588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/714965167444566271/1965587762189558588' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/1965587762189558588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/1965587762189558588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/2011/12/new-year-new-resolve.html' title='New Year, New Resolve'/><author><name>Miriam Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02602670519801797127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj834CKS4V_vHm9Ns-pt3mU-dO74u6xawtvFKKnBJ7OIyTN522OnjtuF1c9cXMreGduy0yZud4XT9_2hAw_SxAKMYsR4WOSQYv2NgteqIYElK-88cdQAYR9Yr7ysViIhQ/s220/scan0001+%282%29.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-714965167444566271.post-1365172987639150459</id><published>2011-12-18T00:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-18T00:32:04.950-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Go There, But Don&#39;t Stay!</title><content type='html'>In the words of Kirk Frankin&amp;nbsp; some days &lt;em&gt;do&lt;/em&gt; feel like givin&#39; up days, but even those days will&amp;nbsp;pass.&amp;nbsp; This past week has been difficult for me.&amp;nbsp; Monday night was an especially difficult night for my daughter.&amp;nbsp; I&#39;m not sure why, but getting through homework was so hard!&amp;nbsp; She had several meltdowns and just couldn&#39;t seem to stay in control of her emotions.&amp;nbsp; After 3 and a half hours, I had to insist that she stop trying to do the work and go to bed, knowing that a fresh start in the morning would do her some good.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; She hasn&#39;t had an episode like that in a long time.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;It was hard to see her like that; angry with herself and with me because she couldn&#39;t get her answers right one moment, and reduced to tears and sobbing in the next.&amp;nbsp; Back and forth she went...&amp;nbsp; I stopped her and asked her to be still and quiet.&amp;nbsp; I prayed aloud&amp;nbsp;for the peace of God&amp;nbsp;to&amp;nbsp;cover us both.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I hugged her and told her that although the evening had been tough, she would feel better in the morning.&amp;nbsp; Before we went upstairs to bed, she was calmer, even a little talkative.&amp;nbsp; Maybe she was just tired... I don&#39;t know what the trigger was, but I&#39;m glad that homework for the remainder of the week was much better!&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
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There are going to be days like this for all of us.&amp;nbsp; I guess the key to moving beyond them is to keep trusting and believing that God wants to give us His best.&amp;nbsp; On a brighter note, things have been better for me&amp;nbsp;for the past few days, but some who are close to me still hurt at this hour.&amp;nbsp; One doesn&#39;t even know he&#39;s hurting and wounded and in need of God&#39;s deliverance&amp;nbsp;and the other can&#39;t seem to catch a break on any level!&amp;nbsp; I can&#39;t figure any of it out though, so I guess the best thing to do is to pray&amp;nbsp;for them both, turn their situations over to God, and trust Him.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I don&#39;t have any answers or explanations, but I will be here to love and support&amp;nbsp;them both, and God will too.&lt;br /&gt;
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If today feels like one of your givin&#39; up days,&amp;nbsp;I encourage you to hold on to your faith and don&#39;t let go!&amp;nbsp; God&amp;nbsp;really&lt;em&gt; is&lt;/em&gt; in your corner!&amp;nbsp;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/feeds/1365172987639150459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/714965167444566271/1365172987639150459' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/1365172987639150459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/714965167444566271/posts/default/1365172987639150459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://faithoverdisability.blogspot.com/2011/12/go-there-but-dont-stay.html' title='Go There, But Don&#39;t Stay!'/><author><name>Miriam Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02602670519801797127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj834CKS4V_vHm9Ns-pt3mU-dO74u6xawtvFKKnBJ7OIyTN522OnjtuF1c9cXMreGduy0yZud4XT9_2hAw_SxAKMYsR4WOSQYv2NgteqIYElK-88cdQAYR9Yr7ysViIhQ/s220/scan0001+%282%29.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>