Just read Sarah Palin's comments on Sunday's episode of (yuck) the Family Guy's story line of Chris' date with a "Down Syndrome Girl", which is also the title of the song that nasty little character, what's-his-name sings. I needed to find out what happened after reading so many of the comments on Sarah's FB page before I could comment on facts versus comments from the left/right. Ok - just watched the clip for myself - The song "Down Syndrome Girl" is more offensive generally than specifically. (I understand crude humor is trademark to FG and that is why so many watch this vile show.) The girl with Down syndrome (use people first language - recognize the person first and then describe their condition) was not the focus of the song. There was only mild offense regarding her. One phrase "take that little whore...... spin her on the dance floor..." was the worst. However, although the lyrics were crude, they were crude and disgusting as they poked fun at Chris who was going on the date with the girl with Down syndrome (people first language again). In real life, girls with Down syndrome DO go on dates with nice guys--guys who sometimes smell and sometimes don't. Just like any other guys or any other girls. What's hard to deal with in any format is depicting people with Down syndrome or other issues in a disrespectful way. Humor is one thing; degradation is another. There is too often a fine line. What is humorous for one person may be gut-wrenchingly degrading for another. It's perspective and it's personal.
For instance, recently in our small town a young mother of four elementary age children was sledding, enjoying some play time with family and friends. She ran full speed ahead into a tree when her sled lost control and the young mom is now fighting for her life with a severed spinal column and two collapsed lungs. As I was watching a truly funny show (AFV) that same week, instead of laughing, I gasped at each person's goofs as they slammed into trees while sledding, lunged into vehicles while falling off bikes, or fell recklessly off rooftops. These are not humorous issues. They can be fatal. Just like taking cheap shots at people with disabilities or bullying someone less fortunate than yourself. Yes, fatal. People have been known to kill themselves or others as the last resort to ending the pain of people's torments that re-play in their minds over and over.
Instead of caving in to crude humor, let's get a little more cerebral and enjoy a good conversation, an interesting storyline, creative wit and appreciate the value of every person without demeaning anyone.
Nina Fuller 2-16-10
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Knowing Time
“Knowing Time As Well as I Do”
Nina Fuller
The Mad Hatter in Lewis Carroll’s classic “Alice in Wonderland” states “If you knew Time as well as I do, you wouldn’t talk about wasting it.” I couldn’t agree more.
After recently re-reading this enchanting children’s tale, I realize that too much of my own personality was reflected in the harried and hurried White Rabbit. Each scene in which White Rabbit appears, he is hurrying down, muttering to himself, trotting along, re-tracing his steps, barking orders, hastily interrupting, and jumping up – all in a great frenzy to accomplish his job as Wonderland’s royal administrator.
Does this sound like you or anyone your immediate family might know? You are busy because you have important tasks to accomplish and lots of details in between appointments that must get done or else…You hurry downstairs in the morning in order to get the family off to school, go to your job or possibly volunteer at your church or favorite ministry. You glance back and see last night’s dishes, as well as the morning’s cereal bowls and half finished juice glasses scattered throughout the cluttered kitchen. “Maybe Danielle will clean up after school before I get home” you wishfully think of your teenage daughter. Then you realize that she promised to babysit the neighbor’s toddler so the mom could do grocery shopping without chubby little hands helping add groceries to the cart. You sigh as you remember the days when your toddlers were too helpful and wish your adolescents would be more helpful now that you are back in the workforce.
You quickly toss your purse into the car and look behind you to make sure your college-age son didn’t park directly in back of you when he got home after you went to bed. Good thing you looked because his ’95 Thunderbird is, indeed, behind you. You jump out, run upstairs and bark an order at him to get his rear end out of bed and you don’t care that it’s his day off and the rest of the world doesn’t get the day off and (deep breath) by the way the bedroom is a complete disaster zone and you expect it to be clean when you get home. You rush downstairs and out the door only to remember that you forgot to ask him to move his car because you were so distracted by the condition of his room. You run back up to get his keys, steaming mad and ready to have a melt down. All before 8:00 AM.
Earlier that morning, during your five minutes of quiet time with the Lord, you quickly read through Psalm 46 because you had lost track earlier in the month which daily reading you were supposed to be on after you got through the first thirty one chapters. You flipped open your beloved Bible that doesn’t get enough attention these days, and thought, “Psalm 46. I think I’ll read this today.”
“God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble…
Be still, and know that I am God….”
Your prayer went something like this, “Dear Lord, I have a full day today, and I need your strength. Please help me to remember that You are my strength and you are with me.
Help me to be patient with the kids, loving to my husband (and that’s another matter I’ll have to discuss with you later in the car, God) and to show other people the joy of living the Christian life so they will want to become a believer, too. Amen.”
You scurry off to your appointment, feeling totally defeated. This is not how you wanted to start your day. In fact, you had your morning devotions and expected things to go smoothly because you had your time with God that morning. “Something’s gotta change” you say to yourself, or maybe to God. “This can’t possibly be the life You’ve called me to, Lord. What are we doing wrong? I can’t keep up with all of this craziness.”
As you head down the expressway, you hear the word of God speak to you “Be still and know that I am God.” “Lord, I want to be still but I’m driving 65 mph.” “Funny girl,” God seems to say. “Be still and know that I am God.” Nine single syllable words. Easy! First grade, reader-friendly words.
1. Be still - part one of the command
Directed at the reader (the Subject is “You” understood)
2. Know - Part two of the command is “Know”
Know what? – that “I am God”
3. God, Himself, is speaking the command, talking about Himself
He speaks directly
He speaks with authority
He speaks conclusively as the verse continues with “I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth….”
When God speaks, we need to listen. He never wastes words (or time) and we should never be too busy to listen. By listening and obeying the compound command of God in this one little verse of Scripture, we begin to benefit immediately.
• Be still – quiet down, stop fluttering, don’t be so hasty, slow the pace, no muttering, no scurrying….be – still – a state of being without doing
• Know – come to realize, believe in, accept as truth
• God is God – He simply is the Great I Am – Ya-weh
Feel better yet? You should. Calm assurance should be soothing you right about now, especially as you rest in the fact that God declares that He will be exalted among the nations and in the earth. That’s right where you are. You can rest assured.
Nina Fuller, speaker/author
www.ninafuller.org
Nina Fuller
The Mad Hatter in Lewis Carroll’s classic “Alice in Wonderland” states “If you knew Time as well as I do, you wouldn’t talk about wasting it.” I couldn’t agree more.
After recently re-reading this enchanting children’s tale, I realize that too much of my own personality was reflected in the harried and hurried White Rabbit. Each scene in which White Rabbit appears, he is hurrying down, muttering to himself, trotting along, re-tracing his steps, barking orders, hastily interrupting, and jumping up – all in a great frenzy to accomplish his job as Wonderland’s royal administrator.
Does this sound like you or anyone your immediate family might know? You are busy because you have important tasks to accomplish and lots of details in between appointments that must get done or else…You hurry downstairs in the morning in order to get the family off to school, go to your job or possibly volunteer at your church or favorite ministry. You glance back and see last night’s dishes, as well as the morning’s cereal bowls and half finished juice glasses scattered throughout the cluttered kitchen. “Maybe Danielle will clean up after school before I get home” you wishfully think of your teenage daughter. Then you realize that she promised to babysit the neighbor’s toddler so the mom could do grocery shopping without chubby little hands helping add groceries to the cart. You sigh as you remember the days when your toddlers were too helpful and wish your adolescents would be more helpful now that you are back in the workforce.
You quickly toss your purse into the car and look behind you to make sure your college-age son didn’t park directly in back of you when he got home after you went to bed. Good thing you looked because his ’95 Thunderbird is, indeed, behind you. You jump out, run upstairs and bark an order at him to get his rear end out of bed and you don’t care that it’s his day off and the rest of the world doesn’t get the day off and (deep breath) by the way the bedroom is a complete disaster zone and you expect it to be clean when you get home. You rush downstairs and out the door only to remember that you forgot to ask him to move his car because you were so distracted by the condition of his room. You run back up to get his keys, steaming mad and ready to have a melt down. All before 8:00 AM.
Earlier that morning, during your five minutes of quiet time with the Lord, you quickly read through Psalm 46 because you had lost track earlier in the month which daily reading you were supposed to be on after you got through the first thirty one chapters. You flipped open your beloved Bible that doesn’t get enough attention these days, and thought, “Psalm 46. I think I’ll read this today.”
“God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble…
Be still, and know that I am God….”
Your prayer went something like this, “Dear Lord, I have a full day today, and I need your strength. Please help me to remember that You are my strength and you are with me.
Help me to be patient with the kids, loving to my husband (and that’s another matter I’ll have to discuss with you later in the car, God) and to show other people the joy of living the Christian life so they will want to become a believer, too. Amen.”
You scurry off to your appointment, feeling totally defeated. This is not how you wanted to start your day. In fact, you had your morning devotions and expected things to go smoothly because you had your time with God that morning. “Something’s gotta change” you say to yourself, or maybe to God. “This can’t possibly be the life You’ve called me to, Lord. What are we doing wrong? I can’t keep up with all of this craziness.”
As you head down the expressway, you hear the word of God speak to you “Be still and know that I am God.” “Lord, I want to be still but I’m driving 65 mph.” “Funny girl,” God seems to say. “Be still and know that I am God.” Nine single syllable words. Easy! First grade, reader-friendly words.
1. Be still - part one of the command
Directed at the reader (the Subject is “You” understood)
2. Know - Part two of the command is “Know”
Know what? – that “I am God”
3. God, Himself, is speaking the command, talking about Himself
He speaks directly
He speaks with authority
He speaks conclusively as the verse continues with “I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth….”
When God speaks, we need to listen. He never wastes words (or time) and we should never be too busy to listen. By listening and obeying the compound command of God in this one little verse of Scripture, we begin to benefit immediately.
• Be still – quiet down, stop fluttering, don’t be so hasty, slow the pace, no muttering, no scurrying….be – still – a state of being without doing
• Know – come to realize, believe in, accept as truth
• God is God – He simply is the Great I Am – Ya-weh
Feel better yet? You should. Calm assurance should be soothing you right about now, especially as you rest in the fact that God declares that He will be exalted among the nations and in the earth. That’s right where you are. You can rest assured.
Nina Fuller, speaker/author
www.ninafuller.org
Monday, September 14, 2009
Tess' First Dance
I thought middle school angst was supposed to be experienced by middle-schoolers, not middle-agers.
Last week I posted on my Facebook that Tess, my 14 year old with Down syndrome, would be going to her first dance. She came home from her day at school all excited and handed me the invitation that triggered a blast from my past! Would everyone ignore her when she walked in? Would she eat alone? Would she have a smear of pizza on her face that everyone would laugh at? What if the girls walked away when she started to dance? What if the boys made fun of her? Would this event catapult her into popularity or persecution?
It took me back to being 14 and approaching my dad. “I've been invited to the Prom, Dad. Can I go?” As I waited for my strict father's reply, a thousand thoughts were running through my mind. “This is great. I'm the only freshman who's been invited by a JUNIOR! And, Ricky's popular, he's on the King's Court! I'd be his date and that means I will be popular, too. This is my moment. Everyone will look at me from now on as popular, one of the cool kids with everyone saying 'hi' to me in the halls and at lunch....”
“Absolutely not!” I was jolted back to reality.
“Please, Dad, please.”
“No means no!”
“It's really important to me, please.”
“Okay, you're grounded for arguing with me.”
“But, Dad...”
“That's two weeks, young lady. No after school activities. You are grounded!”
With that declaration, not only would I not be popular but missing after school activities meant I'd be disgraced. I was on the volleyball team, class secretary, after school choir, and in the school play. I'd miss all my responsibilities and have to explain that I was grounded. How embarrassing! Why did dad have to be so mean. He just didn't get it. He was too old to remember how important those things are to a young girl.
Many years later, I had another conversation with my dad.
“Dad, remember that year I got invited to the prom and you said no?”
“Uh, not quite.”
“It was the first time a boy had asked me and it was a big moment for me. Thanks, Dad, for not letting me go.”
Dad put his paper aside and gave me that look we parents tend to give when we are about to hear something we've waited a long time to hear from our kids.
“Thank you for saying no, Dad. I had no idea at the time but after I grew up a little, I realized that boy was not someone I would let my own daughter date. He may have been popular but that is all a matter of perspective. I realize now that the group he hung around with were actually the bad boys. Thank you for protecting me. I didn't know I needed to be protected but you did. I love you, Dad.”
Tess needed to be protected at the birthday dance last night, or so I thought. I had been invited to stay, along with a few other parents. Secretly, I was relieved that the host mom initiated the invitation to stay. I was able to see firsthand this new group of young people that Tess had begun school with four weeks ago, being mainstreamed in a public school after being in a Christian school.
When Tess came home with the invitation I was so excited for her. She has Down syndrome and along with that comes maternal angst no matter what one's age. I don't know if she was having the same feelings I had at my first invitation to a dance (I suspect not) but I was anxiously processing those same feelings all over again for her sake. Would she have a smear of pizza on her face? Would all the cute little girls with their adorable little shapes and junior high drama let Tess with her stout stature and awkward speech participate in their clusters? Would they roll their eyes at her when she walked away? Would the boys look at each other and laugh when she danced clumsily?
When we first walked in to the party, several girls welcomed Tess and showed her where the pizza and snacks were. Everyone was just hanging out, eating and forming their personal groups. Of course, the boys were in one area and the girls were in another. I watched as a few of the boys were stuffing bubble gum in their mouths to see who could get the most in. One chipmunk, uh, I mean, boy, had gotten at last count, 13 chunks of bubble gum in. I lost count after that.
The DJ had begun to play some music and soon there were dancers on the floor. My angst began and I looked at Tess. From across the room, I forced a smile and motioned for her to go dance with the girls. She confidently approached them and started to dance. “Oh, no, Tess. Don't do the chicken dance yet” I thought to myself. She didn't of course, but that is what I was afraid she would do since it was her favorite.
Being the astute young lady she is, she watched the other girls and began to match their (mostly) innocent movements to the music. The next thing I knew, the music changed and it was a well known group song that is played at a lot of weddings. Thankfully, we've been to many and Tess knew the steps so she fell right in line with the girls and a few brave boys. She was having a blast being one of the kids. I was slowly letting go of the anxiety I had been feeling for my daughter. She even danced with a very cute young man who reminds me of one of the boys on a Disney show!
From my vantage point, I did not see anyone the entire evening roll their eyes or make fun of my daughter with special needs in any way. In fact, as we prepared to leave the party, several of my popular daughter's friends called out, “Bye, Tess. See you at school!” “I'm popular, Mom!” Tess matter-of-factly stated. “Yes, I know you are, Tess.” I replied as I squeezed her hand.
Last week I posted on my Facebook that Tess, my 14 year old with Down syndrome, would be going to her first dance. She came home from her day at school all excited and handed me the invitation that triggered a blast from my past! Would everyone ignore her when she walked in? Would she eat alone? Would she have a smear of pizza on her face that everyone would laugh at? What if the girls walked away when she started to dance? What if the boys made fun of her? Would this event catapult her into popularity or persecution?
It took me back to being 14 and approaching my dad. “I've been invited to the Prom, Dad. Can I go?” As I waited for my strict father's reply, a thousand thoughts were running through my mind. “This is great. I'm the only freshman who's been invited by a JUNIOR! And, Ricky's popular, he's on the King's Court! I'd be his date and that means I will be popular, too. This is my moment. Everyone will look at me from now on as popular, one of the cool kids with everyone saying 'hi' to me in the halls and at lunch....”
“Absolutely not!” I was jolted back to reality.
“Please, Dad, please.”
“No means no!”
“It's really important to me, please.”
“Okay, you're grounded for arguing with me.”
“But, Dad...”
“That's two weeks, young lady. No after school activities. You are grounded!”
With that declaration, not only would I not be popular but missing after school activities meant I'd be disgraced. I was on the volleyball team, class secretary, after school choir, and in the school play. I'd miss all my responsibilities and have to explain that I was grounded. How embarrassing! Why did dad have to be so mean. He just didn't get it. He was too old to remember how important those things are to a young girl.
Many years later, I had another conversation with my dad.
“Dad, remember that year I got invited to the prom and you said no?”
“Uh, not quite.”
“It was the first time a boy had asked me and it was a big moment for me. Thanks, Dad, for not letting me go.”
Dad put his paper aside and gave me that look we parents tend to give when we are about to hear something we've waited a long time to hear from our kids.
“Thank you for saying no, Dad. I had no idea at the time but after I grew up a little, I realized that boy was not someone I would let my own daughter date. He may have been popular but that is all a matter of perspective. I realize now that the group he hung around with were actually the bad boys. Thank you for protecting me. I didn't know I needed to be protected but you did. I love you, Dad.”
Tess needed to be protected at the birthday dance last night, or so I thought. I had been invited to stay, along with a few other parents. Secretly, I was relieved that the host mom initiated the invitation to stay. I was able to see firsthand this new group of young people that Tess had begun school with four weeks ago, being mainstreamed in a public school after being in a Christian school.
When Tess came home with the invitation I was so excited for her. She has Down syndrome and along with that comes maternal angst no matter what one's age. I don't know if she was having the same feelings I had at my first invitation to a dance (I suspect not) but I was anxiously processing those same feelings all over again for her sake. Would she have a smear of pizza on her face? Would all the cute little girls with their adorable little shapes and junior high drama let Tess with her stout stature and awkward speech participate in their clusters? Would they roll their eyes at her when she walked away? Would the boys look at each other and laugh when she danced clumsily?
When we first walked in to the party, several girls welcomed Tess and showed her where the pizza and snacks were. Everyone was just hanging out, eating and forming their personal groups. Of course, the boys were in one area and the girls were in another. I watched as a few of the boys were stuffing bubble gum in their mouths to see who could get the most in. One chipmunk, uh, I mean, boy, had gotten at last count, 13 chunks of bubble gum in. I lost count after that.
The DJ had begun to play some music and soon there were dancers on the floor. My angst began and I looked at Tess. From across the room, I forced a smile and motioned for her to go dance with the girls. She confidently approached them and started to dance. “Oh, no, Tess. Don't do the chicken dance yet” I thought to myself. She didn't of course, but that is what I was afraid she would do since it was her favorite.
Being the astute young lady she is, she watched the other girls and began to match their (mostly) innocent movements to the music. The next thing I knew, the music changed and it was a well known group song that is played at a lot of weddings. Thankfully, we've been to many and Tess knew the steps so she fell right in line with the girls and a few brave boys. She was having a blast being one of the kids. I was slowly letting go of the anxiety I had been feeling for my daughter. She even danced with a very cute young man who reminds me of one of the boys on a Disney show!
From my vantage point, I did not see anyone the entire evening roll their eyes or make fun of my daughter with special needs in any way. In fact, as we prepared to leave the party, several of my popular daughter's friends called out, “Bye, Tess. See you at school!” “I'm popular, Mom!” Tess matter-of-factly stated. “Yes, I know you are, Tess.” I replied as I squeezed her hand.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Why Did the Chicken Cross the Road?
“Mom, can we have a horse? It would be so fun to ride.” No!
“Mom, can we get a goat? Fresh milk would be great.” No!
“Mom, can we get a turtle? They're small and quiet.” No!
We've all heard these requests from our kids when they are young. In spite of breaking their little hearts, we assertively declare our answer, knowing our limits as well as their level of responsibilities. However, even when our kids get older, we may still have to set the record straight. Like last year. My 27 year old, married son asked if we (his dad and I) would let him have chickens! Yes, chickens! On OUR property, not his! Guess what my answer was...”No!”
“Come on, Mom! Organic eggs would be so healthy for everyone in the family. We'll only raise a few at a time.”
“Who's going to tend to “your” chickens, son?” I asked, trying to remain calm and logical.
“I'll come out and feed them” my adult son stated.
“Every day?” I inquired, remembering his promises to care for the fish he won at the county fair. We know how that ended.
“Well, since you and Dad would benefit from the eggs, you could help.”
“What about the chicken poop in the yard? Someone has to clean that up and it won't be me” I asserted.
“They don't poop much.” Came a syrupy but manipulative reply.
“But they still poop and that is too much in our yard. Your little sisters play out there.” I said.
The conversation drifted off to another subject until the next time my son visited. This time he came to the house with a project that he wanted to show off. Along with another friend of his, they built a premium chicken coop with a design they found on-line. I have to admit it was impressive. Two stories, the second floor for roosting, with a walk up, tiered ladder, even. The first floor, of course, was for eating and you know what else. As a nurturing mother, I praised my adult son for his handiwork and then asked “Where do you plan to keep this chicken coop?”
“Here, Mom” he said with that familiar face of seeming innocence. “Dad said it was okay.”
“What? No way! Dad knows how I feel about this.”
I excused myself to go find the man of the house and asked “Did you say it was okay for him to have that here to raise chickens?”
“Calm down, dear” my adoring husband declared. “That's not exactly what I told him. I agreed it would be cool to have fresh eggs every morning and that the girls would get a kick out of having chickens in the yard. I guess he took that as a 'yes'.”
“No!” “No!” “No!” I insisted. “I do not want chickens in my yard. I don't care how fresh the eggs are and I'll take the girls to the county fair so they can see live chickens in action there!”
He knew not to press the issue. Little hints were dropped every so often but that was it.
While we were gone on vacation this summer with our daughters, Tess and Hope, an interesting situation unfolded.
Our son and his wife and a few of their friends were enjoying a cup of coffee outside a local Starbuck's in our nearby busy city. They saw something in one of the bushes. It was something alive and trapped and struggling to get out of the bush. None of the men wanted to approach it but one of the young wives bravely looked directly into the bush along the busy street where traffic was rushing past and what does she find? It's something black with a speck of red on its head. Its wings are flapping and its three pronged toes are trying to get a grip on its position. Sure enough. It's a chicken! They have rescued a chicken who has lost its way in the city! Not on a quiet, dusty farm road. Oh, no. This is city traffic, city lights and a busy coffee shop but no one else has noticed. The chicken most definitely had to cross a few roads to get here.
The group of friends have a great laugh over the fact they have found a chicken in a bush. Now what? Guess who knows the solution? Yes, my son! He says with glee, “Hey! I built a chicken coop last year and I'll just take this chicken to my parents' house. It will be safe there.”
He called my husband and let him know what was going on, but did I get the heads up before getting back from vacation? Oh, no, of course not. It was going to be a surprise! Let mom find out when she gets home; we don't want to spoil her vacation....
It didn't take long for me to notice the coop had been slightly moved and that there was SOMETHING moving in it! “WHAT IS THIS?” I shouted? “No! No! No! I said NO CHICKENS!”
And then the unfolding of the story began. “But mom, it was stuck in a bush....in the city....it would have gotten run over....God must have sent it to us....”
“Don't bring God into this” I thought. But then again, why not?
As a follower of God's Son, Jesus Christ, I know that the Bible commands us to be patient with others. In the book of Colossians it says, “As God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues, put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.”
This means that in spite of the lack of regard shown to me (from my perspective) and the fact that as the mother of the household that my wishes were not respected, and that I now have a chicken living in my yard, that I must be humble and forgive those who have offended me in this. After all, it's not a horse or a goat or something worse!
This chicken actually may have been sent by God to teach me a lesson in forgiveness. We don't always get our way within our families. We must learn to be humble and not prideful in our place of authority or leadership when it comes to disputable matters. We must put on kindness and compassion and gentleness. Even if it ruffles our feathers.
Not squawking over this,
Nina
http://www.ninafuller.org/
http://www.specialstrenth.com/
nina@specialstrength.com
“Mom, can we get a goat? Fresh milk would be great.” No!
“Mom, can we get a turtle? They're small and quiet.” No!
We've all heard these requests from our kids when they are young. In spite of breaking their little hearts, we assertively declare our answer, knowing our limits as well as their level of responsibilities. However, even when our kids get older, we may still have to set the record straight. Like last year. My 27 year old, married son asked if we (his dad and I) would let him have chickens! Yes, chickens! On OUR property, not his! Guess what my answer was...”No!”
“Come on, Mom! Organic eggs would be so healthy for everyone in the family. We'll only raise a few at a time.”
“Who's going to tend to “your” chickens, son?” I asked, trying to remain calm and logical.
“I'll come out and feed them” my adult son stated.
“Every day?” I inquired, remembering his promises to care for the fish he won at the county fair. We know how that ended.
“Well, since you and Dad would benefit from the eggs, you could help.”
“What about the chicken poop in the yard? Someone has to clean that up and it won't be me” I asserted.
“They don't poop much.” Came a syrupy but manipulative reply.
“But they still poop and that is too much in our yard. Your little sisters play out there.” I said.
The conversation drifted off to another subject until the next time my son visited. This time he came to the house with a project that he wanted to show off. Along with another friend of his, they built a premium chicken coop with a design they found on-line. I have to admit it was impressive. Two stories, the second floor for roosting, with a walk up, tiered ladder, even. The first floor, of course, was for eating and you know what else. As a nurturing mother, I praised my adult son for his handiwork and then asked “Where do you plan to keep this chicken coop?”
“Here, Mom” he said with that familiar face of seeming innocence. “Dad said it was okay.”
“What? No way! Dad knows how I feel about this.”
I excused myself to go find the man of the house and asked “Did you say it was okay for him to have that here to raise chickens?”
“Calm down, dear” my adoring husband declared. “That's not exactly what I told him. I agreed it would be cool to have fresh eggs every morning and that the girls would get a kick out of having chickens in the yard. I guess he took that as a 'yes'.”
“No!” “No!” “No!” I insisted. “I do not want chickens in my yard. I don't care how fresh the eggs are and I'll take the girls to the county fair so they can see live chickens in action there!”
He knew not to press the issue. Little hints were dropped every so often but that was it.
While we were gone on vacation this summer with our daughters, Tess and Hope, an interesting situation unfolded.
Our son and his wife and a few of their friends were enjoying a cup of coffee outside a local Starbuck's in our nearby busy city. They saw something in one of the bushes. It was something alive and trapped and struggling to get out of the bush. None of the men wanted to approach it but one of the young wives bravely looked directly into the bush along the busy street where traffic was rushing past and what does she find? It's something black with a speck of red on its head. Its wings are flapping and its three pronged toes are trying to get a grip on its position. Sure enough. It's a chicken! They have rescued a chicken who has lost its way in the city! Not on a quiet, dusty farm road. Oh, no. This is city traffic, city lights and a busy coffee shop but no one else has noticed. The chicken most definitely had to cross a few roads to get here.
The group of friends have a great laugh over the fact they have found a chicken in a bush. Now what? Guess who knows the solution? Yes, my son! He says with glee, “Hey! I built a chicken coop last year and I'll just take this chicken to my parents' house. It will be safe there.”
He called my husband and let him know what was going on, but did I get the heads up before getting back from vacation? Oh, no, of course not. It was going to be a surprise! Let mom find out when she gets home; we don't want to spoil her vacation....
It didn't take long for me to notice the coop had been slightly moved and that there was SOMETHING moving in it! “WHAT IS THIS?” I shouted? “No! No! No! I said NO CHICKENS!”And then the unfolding of the story began. “But mom, it was stuck in a bush....in the city....it would have gotten run over....God must have sent it to us....”
“Don't bring God into this” I thought. But then again, why not?
As a follower of God's Son, Jesus Christ, I know that the Bible commands us to be patient with others. In the book of Colossians it says, “As God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues, put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.”
This means that in spite of the lack of regard shown to me (from my perspective) and the fact that as the mother of the household that my wishes were not respected, and that I now have a chicken living in my yard, that I must be humble and forgive those who have offended me in this. After all, it's not a horse or a goat or something worse!
This chicken actually may have been sent by God to teach me a lesson in forgiveness. We don't always get our way within our families. We must learn to be humble and not prideful in our place of authority or leadership when it comes to disputable matters. We must put on kindness and compassion and gentleness. Even if it ruffles our feathers.
Not squawking over this,
Nina
http://www.ninafuller.org/
http://www.specialstrenth.com/
nina@specialstrength.com
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Signs Along the Way
This past week we took our first trip across the border to Canada. The lush green trees and rolling sprawls of land were such a pleasant change of scenery from the flatlands of southern Indiana. To try to describe the dynamic energy of Niagara Falls is useless. It is breathtaking, awe inspiring and a realization that there truly is a God who is the creator of all things great and small. We were on the Canadian side of the Falls and could vaguely see the specks of tourists on the other side of Lake Erie as they observed Niagara Falls from the US in Buffalo, NY.
North America is rich with our countries' beginnings. As Indians sought a land of their own, journeying through the northern plains, they must have been speechless as they, too, saw the magnificent Falls cascading with thunder and power. Imagine their surprise to see the mighty beasts we know as buffalo.
Peppered along Interstate 90 just over the Peace Bridge between Canada and the US, we saw several small groups of Buffalo sculptures roaming the landscape. It was a reminder, I am sure, of days gone by. Gone are the tribes, the trading posts, totem poles and the smoke signals. They have been replaced by high rise apartments, corporate buildings, churches and road signs. Many of the signs for nearby cities were Indian names such as Cheektowago, Tonawanda, and Cassadaga. One road sign pointing to a nearby town caused me to chuckle. Lackawanna it read. I said out loud to my husband and girls, That's what we have at home lackawanna. Huh? someone responded. I explained, lack-a-wanna-clean my room; lack-a-wanna go to school; lack-a-wanna obey.
After raising three independent sons who are each unique in their own personalities, I am in the process now of raising two daughters with Down syndrome. What seemed easy in parenting our sons often takes a new and creative spin with our girls. What came easy for Jesse, Jake and Joey to learn may take years for Tess and Hope to master.
One thing common to all of our children as they make progress to maturity is the universal need to want to do what is right. Just this morning, our six year old, Hope, was told not to leave the kitchen with her juice. She quietly began an exit to the stairs, hoping to do what she wanted to leave the kitchen and go downstairs. About three steps down, I warned, Hope! Come back here! Mommy said to stay in the kitchen! Obey! Make the right choice! Oh, the look she gave me. She did had that lack-a-wanna face that caused her to continue down another step. Again, I gave her the chance to make the right choice and obey her mom. It took a few moments of silence and a concentrated stare by mom for Hope to surrender her lack-a-wanna and proceed back upstairs. As she approached me, I put my arms out for a hug and embraced her. Giving her a kiss on her sweet, sticky cheek, I said, Now, isn't a hug and kiss better than time out?
I want all my children to wanna do what's right. There is a Proverb (14:12) that a wise father shares: There is a way that seems right to a man but in the end it leads to destruction. I desire for my offspring to avoid destruction and receive the blessings that come from obedience. There is a God-ordained order to obedience and that is what my husband, Andy, and I have been teaching for twenty eight years. Everyone is supposed to obey God's rules, every child is to obey their parents and teachers. That's the rule. If not obeyed, if there is a lack-a-wanna attitude, a sad consequence will follow. Always. One way or another. In fact, throughout chapter 28 in the book of Deuteronomy, you will see that there are lists of blessings for obedience and another list of curses (consequences) for disobedience to God's commands. God's Word promises blessings for obedience and curses (punishment) for disobedience. Our job as parents is to help our children outgrow their lackawanna ways and intentionally wanna do what's right.
Willing to wanna,
Nina
North America is rich with our countries' beginnings. As Indians sought a land of their own, journeying through the northern plains, they must have been speechless as they, too, saw the magnificent Falls cascading with thunder and power. Imagine their surprise to see the mighty beasts we know as buffalo.
Peppered along Interstate 90 just over the Peace Bridge between Canada and the US, we saw several small groups of Buffalo sculptures roaming the landscape. It was a reminder, I am sure, of days gone by. Gone are the tribes, the trading posts, totem poles and the smoke signals. They have been replaced by high rise apartments, corporate buildings, churches and road signs. Many of the signs for nearby cities were Indian names such as Cheektowago, Tonawanda, and Cassadaga. One road sign pointing to a nearby town caused me to chuckle. Lackawanna it read. I said out loud to my husband and girls, That's what we have at home lackawanna. Huh? someone responded. I explained, lack-a-wanna-clean my room; lack-a-wanna go to school; lack-a-wanna obey.
After raising three independent sons who are each unique in their own personalities, I am in the process now of raising two daughters with Down syndrome. What seemed easy in parenting our sons often takes a new and creative spin with our girls. What came easy for Jesse, Jake and Joey to learn may take years for Tess and Hope to master.
One thing common to all of our children as they make progress to maturity is the universal need to want to do what is right. Just this morning, our six year old, Hope, was told not to leave the kitchen with her juice. She quietly began an exit to the stairs, hoping to do what she wanted to leave the kitchen and go downstairs. About three steps down, I warned, Hope! Come back here! Mommy said to stay in the kitchen! Obey! Make the right choice! Oh, the look she gave me. She did had that lack-a-wanna face that caused her to continue down another step. Again, I gave her the chance to make the right choice and obey her mom. It took a few moments of silence and a concentrated stare by mom for Hope to surrender her lack-a-wanna and proceed back upstairs. As she approached me, I put my arms out for a hug and embraced her. Giving her a kiss on her sweet, sticky cheek, I said, Now, isn't a hug and kiss better than time out?
I want all my children to wanna do what's right. There is a Proverb (14:12) that a wise father shares: There is a way that seems right to a man but in the end it leads to destruction. I desire for my offspring to avoid destruction and receive the blessings that come from obedience. There is a God-ordained order to obedience and that is what my husband, Andy, and I have been teaching for twenty eight years. Everyone is supposed to obey God's rules, every child is to obey their parents and teachers. That's the rule. If not obeyed, if there is a lack-a-wanna attitude, a sad consequence will follow. Always. One way or another. In fact, throughout chapter 28 in the book of Deuteronomy, you will see that there are lists of blessings for obedience and another list of curses (consequences) for disobedience to God's commands. God's Word promises blessings for obedience and curses (punishment) for disobedience. Our job as parents is to help our children outgrow their lackawanna ways and intentionally wanna do what's right.
Willing to wanna,
Nina
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
I have a new hero in Sarah Palin
Nina Fuller presenting Sarah Palin with an I Can Read, Too! reading program.As a parent of not one, but two daughters with Down syndrome, I have a new hero in Sarah Palin. I, too, received a pre-natal diagnosis of Down syndrome when I was carrying my fourth child. Knowing full well my options, I chose life for the baby in my womb, even after my own life was significantly compromised. It was a win-win choice because today my daughter is a valuable member of our family, our community, and our nation. I also knew in advance of our second daughter's birth that she, too, would have Down syndrome.
Some who read this statement will immediately jump to the conclusion that I should have stopped having babies after my fourth child was born. I did. Our second daughter was scheduled to be aborted because her birthmother thought that was her only option after getting a pre-natal diagnosis of Down syndrome. Hours before the appointment to terminate the life growing within, she acknowledged that she did not want to parent but wanted to choose life for her baby. She learned of another choice she had instead of abortion: adoption. It really is a loving option. Several weeks later, she gave birth and I became a mother of a second beautiful baby girl who happens to have Down syndrome.
Approximately 1 in 700 babies born in the world has Down syndrome. The majority of people with Down syndrome have trisomy 21, or three entire copies of chromosome 21, which occurs randomly. We each have 23 pairs of chromosomes in every cell of our bodies, for a total of 46 chromosomes. A person with Down syndrome has 47 chromosomes. Whenever there is too much or too little genetic make up, growth and development are affected. Those who are born with Down syndrome typi cally have similar features which make that specific population the most misunderstood and most aborted people group on the planet. According to statistics, and thanks to the way a pre-natal diagnosis is typically delivered, up to 90 per cent of would-be parents opt to abort their pre-born babies with Down syndrome.
Thanks to advancement in science, medicine, government and family commitments, the myths and fallacies of Down syndrome from the past need to be deleted from our global thinking. Each human being has infinite potential if given opportunity. There is no valid reason for terminating a life just because someone fears the future.
Seeing Trig Palin on national television, with his chubby baby cheeks and epicanthal folds in his beautiful, inquisitive eyes, causes my heart to swell with renewed love for all babies. Every life is valuable, no matter how many chromosomes, no matter who the parents are, no matter what circumstances they might be born into. Whether the baby is birthed at forty-something or seventeen, as in the Palin women's cases, all moms should be heroes for choosing life. It's not alw ays the easiest choice but new life is always the right choice. Just ask my own two daughters.
Friday, September 5, 2008
Cuddle Time
Last night was one of those spaces in time every parent wants to gobble up and never forget. My daughters were fed, bathed, and in their jammies in plenty of time to peacefully read a couple of stories together. This doesn’t happen every night and it is a treat for all of us when it takes place.
Tess got to pick three books from her bookshelf and Hope was supposed to but got distracted (go figure). As I scooped up Hope and headed for the comfy couch in the family room, I saw Tess already propped and reading. I love seeing Tess read! It thrills my heart and soul to know that my daughter with Down syndrome has defied the experts of the past and CAN READ! It’s taken us a while to get her there, but with the continued efforts of some great teachers, caregivers and strong-willed parents, my 13 year old daughter is a READER!
Hope and I nestled in as Tess stopped for a moment, scooted over to my other side and we listened and enjoyed “Penny Love” by Lisa Soares Hale. Tess read about a little girl and her grandmother taking a walk in the park. They see a shiny brown penny and Grandma tells her little granddaughter to “Go and pick up the penny and know that Grandma loves you.” She does so and kisses her grandmother’s cheek, telling her “I love you, too, Grandma.” Grandma encourages the little girl to remember each time she finds a penny she will know that Grandma loves her. Through the years the girl grows up, finds lots of pennies along the way and saves those pennies. Each time, even though Grandma is not there, she looks heavenward and whispers “I love you, too, Grandma.” Reminiscent of “Love You Forever” by Robert Munsch, the story continues through the years as the little girl becomes a grandmother herself.
As Tess read this tender story out loud, something happened on our couch, in the room and throughout our home. A warm, loving glow began to hover over us like a snuggle blanket. The girls, especially Hope, sat attentive to the story. Hope gently leaned over to kiss her sister and me on the cheek several times and all was right with the world for those precious few minutes of togetherness. It was all because of a book!
Moms, take time – make time – to read with your children for the pleasure of it! If you are like me, you want to read to your children so they will become readers. You want to make sure that you get those programmed calendar minutes in each day to work on reading skills. “Practice! Practice! Practice! Recite! Recite! Recite! Flash! Flash! Flash! Quiz! Quiz! Quiz!” becomes the mantra of a mother’s mind.
I want to encourage you to sit down, reclaim peace in your home, and read with your children for the pure joy of being together. Whether you read or your emerging reader becomes the orator, enjoy those uncomplicated moments of innocence and love snuggled together.
Looking forward to cuddle time, I am Nina
Tess got to pick three books from her bookshelf and Hope was supposed to but got distracted (go figure). As I scooped up Hope and headed for the comfy couch in the family room, I saw Tess already propped and reading. I love seeing Tess read! It thrills my heart and soul to know that my daughter with Down syndrome has defied the experts of the past and CAN READ! It’s taken us a while to get her there, but with the continued efforts of some great teachers, caregivers and strong-willed parents, my 13 year old daughter is a READER!
Hope and I nestled in as Tess stopped for a moment, scooted over to my other side and we listened and enjoyed “Penny Love” by Lisa Soares Hale. Tess read about a little girl and her grandmother taking a walk in the park. They see a shiny brown penny and Grandma tells her little granddaughter to “Go and pick up the penny and know that Grandma loves you.” She does so and kisses her grandmother’s cheek, telling her “I love you, too, Grandma.” Grandma encourages the little girl to remember each time she finds a penny she will know that Grandma loves her. Through the years the girl grows up, finds lots of pennies along the way and saves those pennies. Each time, even though Grandma is not there, she looks heavenward and whispers “I love you, too, Grandma.” Reminiscent of “Love You Forever” by Robert Munsch, the story continues through the years as the little girl becomes a grandmother herself.
As Tess read this tender story out loud, something happened on our couch, in the room and throughout our home. A warm, loving glow began to hover over us like a snuggle blanket. The girls, especially Hope, sat attentive to the story. Hope gently leaned over to kiss her sister and me on the cheek several times and all was right with the world for those precious few minutes of togetherness. It was all because of a book!
Moms, take time – make time – to read with your children for the pleasure of it! If you are like me, you want to read to your children so they will become readers. You want to make sure that you get those programmed calendar minutes in each day to work on reading skills. “Practice! Practice! Practice! Recite! Recite! Recite! Flash! Flash! Flash! Quiz! Quiz! Quiz!” becomes the mantra of a mother’s mind.
I want to encourage you to sit down, reclaim peace in your home, and read with your children for the pure joy of being together. Whether you read or your emerging reader becomes the orator, enjoy those uncomplicated moments of innocence and love snuggled together.
Looking forward to cuddle time, I am Nina
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