Shutdown Looms...Again

I realize I haven’t contributed to my own blog in about 6 years, and as I reflected on what to write, I realized it isn’t terribly different than my last posting.  We are nearing yet another possible government shutdown.  Leaders will meet again today to determine if there can be a small concession by either side that allows us to, once again, kick the proverbial can down the road.  It is an exhausting process for those of us who constantly have to prepare for the possible outcome of no pay, no after school activities for our students, and now, possible firings for anyone deemed “non-essential.”  If you wonder what I think about it, read my post from 6 years ago.  Little has changed. (I know there are huge issues at stake, and none have easy answers, but shutdowns affect real people.)

 

This morning, however, as I prayed over this infamous meeting of the powers that be, I decided to read a few pages of the marriage book that Joe and I have been doing with a small group at church.  I expected just a nice mental distraction. However, I was given so much more.  The book is by Tim Keller and entitled “The Meaning of Marriage.”  He quotes an excerpt from C.S. Lewis’s BBC radio talk during World War II, which is later printed in his book, “Mere Christianity.” 

 

But though natural likings should normally be encouraged, it would be quite wrong to think that the way to become charitable is to sit trying to manufacture affectionate feelings. Some people are 'cold' by temperament; that may be a misfortune for them, but it is no more a sin than having a bad digestion is a sin; and it does not cut them out from the chance, or excuse them from the duty, of learning charity. The rule for all of us is perfectly simple. Do not waste time bothering whether you 'love' your neighbor; act as if you did. As soon as we do this we find one of the great secrets. When you are behaving as if you loved someone, you will presently come to love him. If you injure someone you dislike, you will find yourself disliking him more. If you do him a good turn, you will find yourself disliking him less. There is, indeed, one exception. If you do him a good turn, not to please God and obey the law of charity, but to show him what a fine forgiving chap you are, and to put him in your debt, and then sit down to wait for his 'gratitude', you will probably be disappointed. (People are not fools: they have a very quick eye for anything like showing off, or patronage.) But whenever we do good to another self, just because it is a self, made (like us) by God, and desiring its own happiness as we desire ours, we shall have learned to love it a little more or, at least, to dislike it less.

Consequently, though Christian charity sounds a very cold thing to people whose heads are full of sentimentality, and though it is quite distinct from affection, yet it leads to affection. The difference between a Christian and a worldly man is not that the worldly man has only affections or 'likings' and the Christian has only 'charity'. The worldly man treats certain people kindly because he 'likes' them: the Christian, trying to treat every one kindly, finds himself liking more and more people as he goes on — including people he could not even have imagined himself liking at the beginning.

 

Our nation is terribly divided.  If you read the news, or talk to a neighbor, you will inevitably hear a story or feel the cold sting of different convictions.  Many feel polarized and set apart.  Some even use the word, “cancelled.”  It’s heartbreaking to see families falling apart and feel a nation so upended and entirely different than the one I grew up in.  Maybe it’s because I was little and largely protected from huge political events.  I was born after the Great Wars and Korean War. I was too small to really feel the effects of Vietnam.  I have some memories of the wall falling in Germany.  I remember asking my parents what a “cold war” was and wondering in my young mind if it just meant people were physically cold.  It was so confusing to me as a child, but never troubling.  And having also been very politically aware during the Gulf War and the war in Afghanistan, I always felt like America was a helper nation - even if that's misguided, it was the lens through which I viewed our nation.  And now, this season feels bad. Different.  It feels conflicting in every sense of the word.  I’m conflicted about my conservative political beliefs, and about my wish and hope that our nation be one that holds the rest of the world to a higher moral standard based on our actions and leadership, not our pride, by promoting human rights, exercising free speech, having free and fair elections, treating all with dignity and compassion, upholding rule of law, offering assistance to the hungry, and modeling what a peaceful transfer of power looks like – every time.  All things that used to align comfortably with my religious views.

 

I have returned to scripture and clung to the sermons of trusted leaders time and again.  I have discussed the political confusion with my husband, who is level-headed and fair and who shares my personal convictions about faith and humanity, but has a better understanding of the constitution and rule of law than I.  He studies national and international issues.  He has the ability to look much farther down the road to anticipate consequences of our actions today on both our nation and those around us – our allies and our enemies.  And yet, I still spend many days scratching my head, in utter disbelief and total confusion…never doubting God’s hand over me or our world, but still wondering what His bigger picture must be, since it feels like total chaos to me.  So many contradictions exist everywhere. 

 

But today, as I read this passage above, I remembered a little phrase my Mom used when I was young.  When I didn’t “feel” like going to an event, or church, or when I simply had a bad mood and was taking it out on those around me, she would say, “I know you aren’t happy, but fake it till you make it.”  She meant, go anyway.  Smile.  Greet people.  It will change your spirit.  And she was always right.  When I went anyway, when I showed up and put my best self out there, my spirit caught up.  It still does. 

 

So, today, as I feel all of the oppression and anger about our current political circumstances.  I have decided to put my best self out there.  If each of us does this, we are the answer to healing a wounded and broken nation.  When we change our hearts, when we pray for our enemies, when we show love even if we aren’t “feeling” it, then things shift.  They shift in a good way.  It may begin in our home, by showing charity to family members, by extending grace to our leaders…at school, at church, in our local community, and even to our nation.  As Christians, we are the hearts and feet of Jesus.  Until we change how we treat one another, in word and deed, this world will continue to grow dim.  Be the light that God has called you to be.  Hold me accountable, too.  Let’s all, “Fake it till we make it,” and at a minimum, improve our current circumstances.  And in the meantime, I’m praying that there is room for a small concession to preserve our government and that our leaders can come together to promote healing and forward movement towards a better nation for all.

 

That’s the end of my Ted Talk for today. I’ll check back in in another 6 years.

We've all lost our minds

I think we've all lost our minds.  Seriously.  We've lost our minds.  I'm at home a lot, so I watch a LOT of news.  It's a bad habit, a horrible default.  I should be doing something more productive with my time.  But is it as shocking to any of you as it is to me the ridiculousness of people these days?

We are one of the 800,000 lucky folks who weren't getting paid recently.  While you can sit on whatever side of that fence you want to, in the end, it was all a silly standoff over pride and semantics, in my humble opinion.  History tells us (very recent history in fact) that everyone wants Border Security.  How that actually looks takes on MANY forms...people, technology, sometimes a physical wall.  But democrats and republicans alike generally agree that we need to ensure our national security.  Trump promised a wall that Mexico was going to pay for, and dog-gone-it, he's been pressed up his own proverbial wall now, trying to deliver on that campaign promise.  His pride, along with the determination of Democrats to take him down, has led to thousands of us praying we can put food on the table.

While we were lucky because we happened to be in a pretty good place financially, others weren't so lucky.  In fact, just a few short years ago, WE would have been hard pressed to survive without two paychecks.  Y'all, government employees are not rich.  ESPECIALLY government employees living in Washington, DC.  And for those of you naysayers who say, "Oh, but you CHOSE this life," I don't disagree.  But we CHOSE this life for several reasons:  first of all, because we are PATRIOTS!  We LOVE our country and have chosen to serve.  And secondly, because working for the federal government has generally had pretty good job security. (Not that this is always a great thing, because let's face it, sometime turnover is good, but I digress.)  So while we CHOSE this, we did not choose to be a pawn in this game of "he said, she said."

There are countless books written on why our government, from the President all the way down to individual citizens, can't seem to get along these days.  But I have one opinion about all of it:  We've literally lost our minds.  In this age of Social media, it seems no one (including me) can put their phones down long enough to get to the business of governing.  We are SUPER busy being politically correct, affirming or condemning the latest Tweet, and leaking whatever crazy news we can find to make the headlines, which further alienates all of us.  How about everyone put their phones in the box by the door and move into a chamber and talk about actual business?  How about we all remember WHY we serve!  We aren't serving so that we can get re-elected.  We are SERVING because service should be a higher calling.  It should be self-less, but it has become exactly the opposite.  It has become SELF-SERVING.

And let's talk about the latest chaos in Virginia.  I mean we could go as far back as a few weeks ago and talk about Kavanaugh, too.  In fact, let's, because it's on BOTH sides of the aisle.  HOW many of you would like to take out your year books from high school or college AND your photo albums and let the entire world scrutinize them?  (Well, I could, but I'm not running for office.)  Did ANYONE else make stupid choices in their youth?  Did anyone disappoint their parents?  Did anyone LEARN from their experiences?  Did anyone think, "Man, that was kind of dumb.  Glad it didn't kill me!"  I mean, COME. ON!  Guys, youth is exactly that, YOUTH!  KIDS make stupid, stupid choices.  ALL THE TIME.

I'm rearing three children.  Two are currently teenagers.  I'm incredibly blessed because I have awesome kids.  They are kind and generous and well behaved.  I could go on and on and on.  And while my husband and I TRY to instill a strong sense of Christian values into them, and we have very high expectations, that does NOT mean that at some point in their youth, they won't make a mistake.  Maybe not even an intentional one.  Maybe what is TOTALLY acceptable now won't be in 30 years, when they are 20 years into their own careers.  What if we don't even KNOW what's going to be taboo!  And frankly, how could we?  We are just doing the best we can with what we have at this time.  I am terrified that somehow, someway, someone is going to try to derail their life plans due to some crazy picture they'll take at some point in their YOUTH.

Now don't misunderstand, I think it is CLEAR the differences between bad decisions and criminal behavior.  So let's talk about that for a second.  Accusing someone of being a racist, while a horrible, horrible thing to BE, is still not criminal (assuming we are no longer slave owners or acting on these feelings).  But accusing someone of violating you, now that's criminal.  And bravo to any young woman or man who digs deep and finds the courage to expose it.  BUT, and this is a big but, we STILL HAVE DUE PROCESS!  Everyone is considered innocent until proven guilty.  I'm totally in agreement that people who are in any way violated should be given a voice.  But it is then incumbent on them to PROVE it.  Sometimes, this is overwhelming, too much time has passed, the crime is irreversible in terms of proof or evidence gathering, and all of that is truly horrible, but we have RULE OF LAW for a reason. And let's face it, there are some crazy folks out there who are literally happy to take advantage of our current cultural #metoo movement or frankly, just lie.  Therefore, we have due process!

So back to my main point.  We've all lost our minds.  Why can't our leaders exhibit some LEADERSHIP, and put down their phones, sit across the aisle from one another and dig deep?  Find some common ground (they certainly have some)?  Why is it so hard to say, "Hey, we don't agree on this point, but we DO agree on this one."  People, check your pride (and your next election points) at the door.  Think about ALL the people.  There's no doubt that government is a give and take, a negotiation, but it's not a dang hostage environment.  We all live in this great nation TOGETHER!  In fact, while I'm no counselor, I've read lots of books about restoring relationship.  Maybe we should remove the tables in the room, and make all of the Republicans sit with their knees touching the Democrats knees? It's super hard to be nasty when you are in physical contact with someone.  Try it.  Maybe we should all try some humility.  Maybe the House should wash the feet of those in the Senate, and then, the other way around.  Everyone in our nation is not a Christian, but there is truly no greater example of servanthood than Christ.  So whether you believe or not, you could study the history books about it.  You might be shocked at how changed we would all be in the end if we practiced "service" like this.  Service is not selfish.  So, to our government, and all of our citizens, let's revisit why we are fighting.  Let's think about why we are working in these government jobs.  Whom are we serving?  And how are we doing it?  It's time to stop being crazy, and start doing our jobs.

Home

I attended a transitioning seminar at the school this morning.  Though I was happy to hear that we have been doing the “right” things for our children to make the transition more seamless, it seemed to stir up a host of emotions that I had successfully repressed for the last few months.  At one point, someone reminded us to “separate carefully and respectfully.”  I wholeheartedly agree with this advice and have been very cognizant during this move in particular to do just that.  Here’s what it means…when you transition, it’s not abnormal to begin to disconnect.  In fact, sometimes to completely withdraw.  However, it can also sometimes disintegrate into outlining all of the things you hate about the place you are leaving.  It’s not uncommon and in fact, allows you to emotionally move along.  It allows you to numb some of the pain that you are feeling during the separation by saying, “I’m so glad to get away from (fill in the blank).”  It’s a release.  But, it’s damaging.  It’s damaging to the people you leave behind and it is damaging to us because we leave a lasting impression of negativity.  Sometimes we carry that into our next place by talking excessively about the stuff we were so happy to be done with.  It infuses doubt into the minds of our new friends about what we might say about THEM when we leave them behind next. I know this because I’ve lived it.  It is HARD not to do it.  Friends - hold me accountable.

This made me stop and think about what I AM leaving behind.  What will I miss?  And where I am going.  One would think that this process would become easier. It doesn’t.  This is about our 10^th move…our 8^th international move.  We have most of the nuts and bolts figured out, but the emotions keep returning.  I confess I had to think hard about what I would miss about Romania. (I’m in the separation phase.)  I figured it out.  It’s the people.  I love the friends I’ve made here…American, Romanian, British, Dutch, Canadian and it goes on and on.  I love the church we have helped build here.  There are no words to describe that process or that group of folks with whom I’ve worshipped, cried, laughed, and mourned with...they are forever going to be in my heart and on my mind.  It’s the weather.  We have all 4 seasons, and they are beautiful.  The food.  This is a place where I found healing in my own physical body.  It’s a place where, through that food journey, I have honored my own father’s life and death.   It’s where my children have blossomed.  They have matured and grown into beautiful young people.  I am so proud of them all.  I have had my sisters and mother and mother-in-law and friends visit us here, we have traveled and seen interesting things, and we have come together here as a family.  There’s so much to miss. 

And now, my heart must move on.  I’ll treasure up all of these things with me on my journey.  They won’t be far from my thoughts.   However, this is an unusual move for us.  The children and I will go to my hometown in Louisiana for a year and my husband will spend the next year in Baghdad.  This is like no other move we have ever made.  There is such joy in knowing that I am going home.  But it won’t be the same.  It will be wonderful to sit and have coffee with my sisters and mom and friends…but I’ll be alone.  We will get to be present for all of the family birthday parties and holiday celebrations in the coming year.  But I will be alone.  It sounds horrible and morose, but it’s true.  Learning to live with part of your heart across the ocean may be excruciating.  And worse, I fear that moving home will bring such a sigh of relief that I may never be able to leave again.  The first time was hard enough!  And yet, there’s nowhere else that I want to go this time.  Where is home?  (A special hats off to all of my military friends and Foreign Service families who have already walked in my shoes.  I understand.)

We are nomads and this move has made me sit and reflect so much on not only our earthly transitions, but on my spiritual home.  We are never to feel like we are at home in this world.  We are but visitors here, in a foreign land.  Is this my new normal?

Despite all of the wonderful, lovely experiences my family and I have had in Romania, I feel that I was never home.  Will it feel that way when I return to my country of origin?  To my “homeland?”  Will my children feel as if they have gone home?  Will we all be forever strangers on this journey?  Time will tell. 

My husband has already sent me the list of prospective places that we can bid on for our next assignment abroad.  We’ll have to bid in July.  I keep filing it away.  I look at it…and feel sadly overwhelmed.  To think of going to a new place, when I haven’t even vacated this one yet and am headed “home,” is just too much to process.   It is now that I pray that quiet little prayer, “Lord, please prepare a place for us.  Please open our hearts for this journey.  Please comfort us and protect us.  Please show us how we can represent YOU in all that we say and do. Let us not grow weary.  Give us strength to face the obstacles that will surely come our way.  Give us patience, compassion, grace, and love - for each other and for those we encounter along the way.  Amen.”   

Toilet Paper Revelation

So I've spent a lot of time thinking about parenting styles lately.  I worry that my own style is somehow damaging the young psyche of my children, and that I'll be responsible for their therapists bills one day.  I'm the "laugh when they are funny, love 'em when they cry, and discipline them when they are naughty" kind of parent.  However, that doesn't always line up with how others parent.  First of all, we all define "naughty" in totally different ways.  I think my definition of naughty is infinitely "more conservative" than others...until it comes to my youngest, and then I feel like that kitten hanging from a high limb praying not to drop...praying we both make it another day.    I love her spunk and her high-spirited ways, but oh my, her spunk and her high-spirited ways might be the death of me...and her!   I think my husband calls us "stubborn."  Hmmm.  Whatever.  Either way, it still makes me think long and hard about HOW I parent this wonderfully unique little girl, along with her older brother and sister with all of their interesting talents, and different personalities.

Anyway, I was thinking about this again today in my, ahem, "office," and I pondered how we quit responding to our children.  Nothing is urgent anymore.  I used to dash off to check on them if I heard even the slightest whimper.  Now, I hear a child scream and I stop and think, "What kind of scream was that?"  I hear a thud and I yell, "Everyone okay?"  I don't leave whatever I'm doing to go see.  I wait a reasonable amount of time to see if anyone responds before heading out to check on them.  My child says, "MOM!  I cut myself!"  And I yell, "Is it gushing or a slow bleed?" Someone cries for me to come and I say, "Not now, I'm busy."  I realized that there's only one thing in our house that causes all of our family members to jump into action.  And I mean, immediately.  It's teamwork all the way.  The big motivating announcement is "There's NO toilet paper in this bathroom!" You suddenly hear everyone scrambling into action and saying, "I'll be right there!"  Then you hear the teamwork..."Did you have any in your bathroom?"  "NO, what about you?"  "No."  "Okay, I'll grab some tissues from upstairs," and then they report back in, "Hey, it's okay - we are getting it!  It's coming!  Hang on!"  As if no toilet paper is the "end all" of events.  It's AS IF someone needs medical attention.  Why?  Why is THIS the "big unifier?"

I decided it's because it crosses all barriers...age, gender, position, etc.  This is the ONE thing we can ALL relate to.  We've ALL been there.  We get it.   When you are done, you are done, and it's time to get up and this is the ONE thing between you and freedom...a roll of toilet paper.  No one wants to be stuck.  And so we are all on the same team.  So how do we re-organize our families so that we get back on the same team in just everyday simple acts of kindness?  How do we begin again to teach our children to be team players, working in unison for a common goal?  Well, it begins with parenting.  We need to start responding again.  We need to re-engage with our children and though the goal is not that we become slaves to their requests, but that we become team members with a common goal of supporting one another.  We have to teach them what love looks like, and teamwork, and selflessness, and kindness.  It's hard work.  We start with how we treat our spouses, and our friends and our neighbors, but we don't reserve our acts of kindness for those next door, we begin, too, with our children.  They must witness, first hand, a love that responds.

After all, we are all on the same team.  One day, with luck, I'll be old and will need someone to hold my hand and wipe my spit and brush my hair.  If I expect my children to be "responders" to that old lady I hope to become, I must teach them what being a "responder" looks like now, while they are young.  They need to learn what the meaning of family is from me.  So today, my "toilet paper revelation" will be to get back in the game and start responding to my children and getting off the couch and out of the kitchen for events MORE important than "no toilet paper."  Maybe they won't need therapy after all...

My Medical Journey

It’s a brave new world we live in with the evolution of the internet to email, facebook and blogging.  This access to the media allows incredible opportunities for keeping people connected.  It also allows an opportunity for “over-sharing,” which is probably what I’m about to do. 

I grew up in a home and an “age” where if a young woman was pregnant, we had to say, “She’s expecting,” and we had to lower our voices when we said it.  We could only whisper the word cancer for fear that the person who had it might find out, or more likely, we might get it.  There were other diseases and illnesses that shouldn’t be mentioned at all, but were only reserved for medical textbooks.  It seems that in this new day, with so much more access and “layman’s knowledge” about medical terminology, the terms are now literally falling off of the page.  With terms floating around like Hashimoto’s Disease, Fibromyalgia, Scleroderma, Grave’s Disease, Celiac Disease, Sjogren’s Disease, and others, we are literally scooping them up and dropping them into our google search engines like pennies in a gumball machine to see what list of symptoms are going to fall out.  We are searching to see if the list of offensive symptoms match our own.  We want to know if anyone else shares our growing list of unusual concerns and was there a solution?  Not just ANY solution, but an easy solution.  At least in the beginning.  Eventually, you decide that if the issues persist, ANY solution would be better than feeling crazy.

We are in a world where we must own our own health. With the increase in medical fees and our doctors spending so much time ushering us like cattle through the doors to cover their own rising costs, something is lost.  We have lost any opportunity to be heard, or for our issues to be investigated.  There is now a pill for nearly everything, and the pharmaceutical companies along with our trigger-happy doctors are happy to oblige, but this doesn’t solve our crisis.  In fact, it often compounds the problems.  And so, we go back to the internet and we search and we talk.  We look for people like us.  We look for answers that don’t come in the form of a pill.  We want answers and we want to be validated.

I can write all of this because it’s my own experience.  I harken back to the birth of my second baby.  My first two children were 14 months apart.  I was in good health when I had each of them.  I gained a reasonable amount of weight and after each c-section I lost nearly all of the weight immediately.  When my son was 6 weeks old, however, I took a birth control shot because it was touted as the “safest” while breast-feeding.  We knew breastfeeding was not a sure form of birth control.  Baby #2 was proof of that.  Within 4 months, I LOOKED pregnant again.  I had gained lots of weight, and I couldn’t understand it.  I didn’t take any more birth control shots, and by the time he was 11 months old, I’d begun a rigorous training of running in order to lose the unwanted pounds.  I also noticed that my hands were falling asleep every time I went to bed.  We were living in Jamaica at the time, but just a few months after I began running, we moved back to Virginia for 9 months of language training.  Things continued to decline.  I recall talking to my sister one day and crying that I was simply too tired to clean our apartment.  It was only 900 sq. feet!  She insisted that I needed to assert myself and how ridiculous that I couldn’t “get it done.”  This was my pep talk. I was getting up at least 3 mornings a week and running on a treadmill, but the weight persisted and my exhaustion remained.  I had another sister who said, “Welcome to motherhood.”  Really?  Was this what I was to expect?  No energy to invest in these two beautiful children?  Were they to spend their formative years sitting in front of Caillou?  I will certainly be forever thankful to PBS for providing educational programming in those days, but seriously?  This was IT?  It was a long 9 months in Virginia while I struggled to remain sane, and my husband, never waivering, walked home each afternoon from long hours of language training and stepped over the piles of laundry to get to the kitchen and cook dinner for the 4 of us. 

It wasn’t until we went to the Medical Unit to have our medical evals for our next overseas assignment that the right doctor asked the right questions and started the ball rolling on this train.  I am thankful to that clinic for “finding it” and validating me.  Turns out, after 3 blood draws in 2 weeks, my numbers were quickly climbing for my thyroid and I was said to be “Hypothyroid.”  Ahhh-HA! I KNEW motherhood couldn’t be so horrible!  The doctors prescribed Synthroid and within 6 weeks, and a new country, I was on top of the world!  My weight went down, my energy levels went up and the fog lifted. 

Fast-forward 10 years and the story hasn’t really changed all that much.  We have been to 3 different countries in that amount of time, and I have had two miscarriages resulting in a D&C, and one more healthy pregnancy.  I have cycled through countless dosages of Synthroid, been offered medication for high-cholesterol, which I refused, and have continued to have symptoms with which I have basically learned to live.  My exercise regimen has been equally sporadic, depending on the country and the opportunities, and my weight has continued to fluctuate up and down the scale. 

Interestingly enough, over the course of these years, the two sisters who had so wisely encouraged me to “hang in there” and “get with the program,” had already been diagnosed with hypothyroidism, and have since continued to struggle with their own similar sets of symptoms.  It’s not surprising, though, that when they shared their snarky advice we simply were not in a place yet that we even considered “comparing symptoms.”   

The breakthrough came when my older sister went through a series of intensive screenings and was discovered to have a gluten intolerance.  WHAT?   That was 5 years ago.  Naturally, we all supported her new discovery, but quickly began to count the reasons that this wouldn’t work in our own lives.  We all know that bread is the vessel that’s to be used to get butter into our system.  How could I ever give that up?  She began quietly whispering, “you are next.”  I would giggle and say, “You are right, but not yet.” 

There wasn’t much research available on the topic, other than what she had gleaned from her own radical doctor.  That’s what we thought…that he was “radical” and “out there” and “fringe.”  This was all of that holistic stuff that bordered on our old conceptions of “new age.”  But we would support her because we’d seen her struggle.  Meanwhile, 2 years after her diagnosis, we watched my father slip away from us with liver cancer.  The doctors scratched their heads and couldn’t figure it out, but it didn’t stop the end from coming.  His fight lasted 9 months.   He didn’t have Hepatitis, or alcoholism, and his weight, though he always struggled, was certainly not so shockingly bad that we would have expected it to cause his total demise.  The doctors still scratched their heads and sent their condolences and said that cancer was one of those diseases we just couldn’t understand.

And this takes us to present day.  In February, I started the same old routine with my current nurse practitioner in Romania at the embassy med unit.  It’s a familiar dance.  “Dr. ____, I am feeling badly again…my hands hurt and tingle at night, I’m tired, I feel angry, my stomach hurts,” and on and on.  In this quiet part of the world, this nurse practitioner decided to run an antibody test and send me for a thyroid scan.  This was new to me.  At the beginning, I even wondered if it was overkill, but who was I to sniff a gift fish when I needed answers and was happy that someone had “read my chart.” 

Surprisingly, the antibodies were elevated, indicating Grave’s Disease, but my thyroid numbers were all normal.  In my scan, my thyroid was “small in size” and therefore an indication of Hashimoto’s Disease.  And so my intense search to “figure things out” began.  I hit the internet, blogs, facebook, every known mechanism I had at my fingertips to figure out if a) this was possible and b) how to fix it!   The question that had not yet entered my mind was “what CAUSED it.”  I saw two different endocrinologists and had countless “over the fence” sessions with my neighbor, the nurse practitioner.  During my research, I began to find a wealth of evidence that kept pointing back to gluten.  In fact, the information was nearly overwhelming.  What was more shocking was that EVERY. SINGLE. SYMPTOM. seemed to coincide with my own Dad’s issues.  I also began to realize that I have also had symptoms dating back to my childhood years. 

The evidence was mounting in favor of going gluten free.  In the course of my research, I also discovered that “gluten free” in the traditional sense meant “wheat free.”  A true gluten free diet was “grain free.”  That was one more step I wasn’t sure I could wrap my head around, so I decided to start small.  On March 4, I cut out wheat from my diet with ASTOUNDING results.  Within 10 days, I had lost 5 lbs, my hands no longer hurt or tingled, no more stomach issues, and I could sleep through the night!  I called my sister and said, “Enough already.  Get off of gluten.”  She argued, but who can truly argue with these kinds of results?  She called me a “gluten nazi,” but she acquiesced and had similar results.  And so began my mission to get all of my extended family off of gluten.  I wasn’t ready to take on my kids.

On my side of the family, I have a first cousin with Rheumatoid Arthritis, a mother with severe stomach complications and no gall bladder, a nephew with no gall bladder (oh, and all 3 of my nephews have tested positive for the gluten sensitivity gene), a father who we know had liver cancer, a sister who has several autoimmune diseases, and two additional sisters who have thyroid issues along with a few other complications.  We all manifest differently with our thyroid, but have some basic complaints in common, including fatigue, foggy brain, muscle and joint pain, sinus issues, etc. 

As part of my research, I discovered the “Gluten Free Society” (www.glutenfreesociety.org) and it’s founder, Dr. Peter Osborne.  He’s based in Sugarland, Texas and since it seemed to be attainable, I made an appointment with him on our trip home this summer.  I’m not particularly susceptive to hero worship, but I’m getting close with this doctor.  He’s a chiropractor and nutritionist, but also the world’s leading expert on issues dealing with gluten sensitivity.  It is through much of his privately funded research that I have found many answers already to my issues.  On July 4, I will have been wheat free for 4 months.  I know when I’ve slipped, and I know that there are possibly other products (be it foods or environmental toxins) that are culprits in my deteriorating health.  I am awaiting the test results now to see what those might be.

In the meantime, I am “all in.”  Gluten, at least in the form of wheat, makes me sick.  I know that most gluten comes in the form of bread and it makes sense that anyone who eats a lot of bread is going to possibly have weight issues, which cause lots of other health issues.  Whether folks choose to avoid gluten as part of a fad diet or for real health related allergies or sensitivities, I think they will feel better.  But for my family, I know the end result of untreated, undiagnosed gluten sensitivity.  I want more for my children.  I don’t want my daughters to give birth and think that motherhood is “too much.”  I don’t want them to wake up with joint pain in their 20’s.  I don’t want them to live with a stomach ache. 

This will not be an easy road…for me or for them.  We will have to first think differently, and then live differently.  Change takes time and it cannot happen without support.  When those around you are discouraging, change your surroundings.  There’s too much evidence to support this growing trend for me to discount its legitimacy.  My own success is equally convincing.  We see slogans constantly in our lives that say, “Live Well,”  “Eat Healthy, live longer.”  We have spent a lifetime ignoring the obvious.  I prefer to live by the old adage, “We are what we eat.” 

It’s baby steps for my own children.  It’s a process of self-discovery for me.  The more I can confirm about my own genetics, the more power I have in my own home to continue to rid my house of the toxins…whatever form they take.  We are on a road to health.  It will not be a smooth road. 

In my journey thus far, I’ve already experienced some of the ups and downs.  In the last 10 weeks alone, my thyroid medication has been increased, sending me, no CATAPULTING me, into a hyperthyroid state.  I have since reduced my dosage by half and have found a new normal.  I might add that despite this change, my weight remained steady, my hands never hurt, and though my stomach experienced the most issues, it, too, has returned to normal since correcting my dosage.  All of this further evidence that it was inflammation, caused by gluten, causing my pain, not necessarily the thyroid itself.  In fact, it’s most likely that the gluten was the very spark that ignited my virtual deterioration of my thyroid.  Eventually, I’d like to be medication free.  My new doctor thinks it’s possible. 

I leave you now with hope that by taking control of your own health, by owning your diet, by confessing that you hold the answers to your problems by making better nutritional choices, we really do have hope for a healthier, longer future.

Parenting, Culture Shock, and turning over the worry...

I keep reading all of these positive things about how difficult, yet rewarding, parenting is or can be.  I believe them all and they make me laugh.  Trouble is it doesn't relieve the sheer overwhelming feeling of "Am I doing it right?"  I've been watching a sermon series by Andy Stanley called, "Why Worry?"  It's fantastic, and he states that "You worry about that which you are most passionate and committed to."  This made me evaluate what I actually worry about.  It's my kids.  It's their well-being, their health, their minds, their self-esteem, their faith, their successes, their failures.  I want them to be happy, but not so happy that they miss the tough lessons of life.  I want them to miss heartache, but not to the degree that they miss having compassion for others.  Once I discovered what I worry about most, and connected that to what I'm most passionate about, I confess I had a moment of "Well, at least maybe I'm not COMPLETELY self-absorbed; and short of being totally and fully committed to Christ and trusting Him with my worries, this isn't the WORST thing to worry about."  It's possible that I momentarily forgot the point of the message.

It's true that I need to turn all of my worries over to a higher authority...to the God that I, in theory, trust implicitly with my every tomorrow.  But these feelings of insecurity and of "being unsettled," continue to creep back into my daily life.  This made me think harder about "why" I feel this way.  And then I remembered..."culture shock."  It's a nasty little thing.  It creeps into your world, and undermines your greatest feelings of accomplishment.  It's silent and like that black web from Spiderman 3, it wraps itself around you and suddenly, you feel black and dark and you don't know why.  I had that feeling throughout my first year in Nairobi.  Once I left for summer and had a "break" from my own daily grind, I returned with a new sense of "home."  I came back and suddenly it was "MY crazy world" and I fit into it so much better.  I was comfortable in my own skin again.  We are getting very close to summer break after nearly a year in Romania...

So doesn't it stand to reason that after this summer, I'll feel better when I return?  I hope so...but like that black web, there are feelings of doubt.  What if I simply DON'T fit in here?  What if I've finally reached that place in my own life and in adulthood where I can't adapt?  I'm done.  I've grown too old to make new friends?  Suddenly this sounds familiar...the old paranoia of transition and culture shock is ringing true.  It simply has to "make it's rounds" in my head in order for me to rationalize it and put it back into it's proper place.  I have to turn that over, too.  To allow God to re-invent my thinking.  To give me peace when I can't find it on my own.  To turn the focus off of myself and back onto those around me...the ones I'm so passionate about.  And then that old worry of "Am I getting it right?" creeps back in...and so is the cycle of life in the Foreign Service...transition, adjusting, re-adjusting, helping your children adjust, feeling settled for about 10 minutes, and then preparing for transition again. I'm presently in search of that "10 minutes."

Sadly, having culture shock doesn't allow us a reprieve from parenting. We can't STOP parenting because we are in transition.  I think in our attempt to be good parents, we have to make difficult decisions that are often not popular with the masses, feeding into the feelings of personal isolation.  Not allowing my 12 year old to have her ears pierced until she's 13, so we'll have something fun to look forward to when we hit our "teens," is wildly unpopular.  Not attending Middle School dances is also  unpopular.  No facebook accounts, no privacy with electronics, no violent Wii games, no electronic games during the week, no walking around the mall alone, no R rated movies, no company in the house while I'm away, you can't play with matches, or knives, wear a helmet and shoes when on your bike, no food in the living room, no dessert until you've eaten your dinner, you can't ask the neighbors for food, you can't knock on anyone's door until after 10 a.m. and noon on Sunday, no cell phones until I see a need, take your plate to the sink, make your bed...I'm a real stickler for following the rules.  Crazy rules, I guess.  When other parents don't share our convictions or our love for rules, then we are suddenly the "strict, unrelenting," parent.  It's less about what someone else might say and more of a "feeling."  My kids tell me I live in the dark ages and that THEIR friends get to do all of these things!  Naturally, I don't always believe them, but I do know it happens.  And in truth, I only like rules because I think they are designed to keep our children safe.  They create natural boundaries so children are not putting themselves at risk both physically and emotionally.  It also develops a sense of respect...for themselves, and for others.  I don't want to rob their joy, or keep them imprisoned, or make them completely dependent on me.  I know they must begin to make their own decisions, and emerge into society as strong, INDEPENDENT people.  I hope the "rules" allow that transition to take place. But I also want them to be free to enjoy being children.  We all know that adulthood is upon us all too soon, with all of it's responsibilities and chores; and suddenly childhood and the pleasures of being young are gone.  I've convinced myself that I'm doing okay, but it's still sometimes a lonely road.

I know I must turn this worry over, too.  I have to seek His face and trust my children's well-being and even my own insecurities over to a higher power...but only after I've done all that I can physically do.  It is then, when I've stood firm in the face of judgement and difficult situations, and hopefully equipped my children to make good decisions, that I can rest and let God handle the rest.  In the meantime, I'm packing for a summer trip. ;-)

2012 Christmas Letter

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

I cannot believe it’s already time to start signing my checks with 2013 (yes, I still write checks)!  Where does the time go?  I recall my mother saying the same thing and thinking, “Why does she think time is moving so quickly?”  Well, now I’M that mother…you blink, and your children are as tall as you are, with interesting minds and lovely stories to tell. 

Even though time seems to move quickly, it seems so much has happened with the Trimble Family this year!  We kicked off 2012 in Woodbridge, VA.  The children were 10, 9 and 3 (at the time) and it was so nice to be with old friends in our old home in the Northern Virginia community again!  But that was not to last too long…

After a chaotic end to the school year, attending 5^th grade graduation for Mary, watching Will’s Little League baseball team take FIRST PLACE for the season, packing up our house (again), saying all of our farewells to friends in Virginia, and meeting up with old friends from Nairobi, we hit the road bound for Louisiana and Texas with a van load of kids and a puppy!  Sammy, the puppy, likes to travel, so we were lucky that he slept a lot on the trip.  We dropped him off in Louisiana and then went onto Austin to stay with Karen, Joe’s mom, for a week.  Then back to Louisiana for another week to celebrate the 4^th of July with my family and friends. And THEN, we drove back to Virginia to pick up our nine suitcases and get on a plane bound for Bucharest, Romania.

With nine suitcases (it bears mentioning again), three kids, a puppy traveler, and a stroller, we got to Dulles International with time to spare (3 hours to be exact).  We checked Joe and the children in on a United Flight, and then went to check Sammy and me in on an Air France flight (longer story).  It was at this point we learned that I could not fly on an Air France flight through Paris with the dog unless I had my tourist passport, which I didn’t.  I only had a diplomatic passport.  Needless to say, we spent the next three agonizing hours working closely with the State Department travel agent, and both airline ticketing agents to switch Joe and me.   We managed to accomplish this with nine minutes left to board!!!   We swapped our traveling bags on the tram to the planes and skidded into our appointed flights literally with seconds to go!  Thankfully, everyone made it across the pond without incident after that! 

And so began our three year tour in Eastern Europe.  We are now happily settled into a very nice house in a gated community in a suburb of Bucharest, called Baneasa.  The children, now 11, 10 and 4, attend (or will soon attend in Suzy’s case) the American International School of Bucharest.  It’s Mary’s first year in Middle School and she seems to be taking it by storm.  She has been on the Speech and Debate Team and debated in Vienna, Austria (I got to join her on that trip!), has been selected to join the Gifted and Talented program, and is making excellent grades.  She’s participating in an assortment of other extracurricular activities, but that all changes so frequently, I won’t try and outline them here.

Will is equally successful in his final year in Elementary School.  He’s been selected to be a “Green Hat,” which is a group of 5^th grade students who are responsible enough to assist the younger children at lunch and on the playground at recess, as well as help keep everyone off of the “green” areas at school.  He has also been elected as the Student Council rep for his 5^th grade class, and has also participated in several after school activities. 

Suzy and I are at home together until the fall of 2013, when she will begin Kindergarten at AISB.  She’s a bright and entertaining little thing, who keeps Joe and me young and on our toes!  She loves her brother and sister and watches all that they do very closely…often mimicking EVERYTHING.  Suzy is also a great little singer, learning the lyrics to all of the Taylor Swift songs that Mary is playing on the guitar!  Suzy is busy learning her letters and numbers, and loves to draw and make crafts. 

Joe is enjoying his work at the embassy as a Political/Military officer.  After a tumultuous summer in the Romanian government, he was able to participate in interesting meetings with several local and US officials and managed to even be seen on TV a few times!  Naturally, we don’t understand what was being said, since it was in Romanian, but we loved seeing him just the same!  He is enjoying bird watching on a new continent, too.  He’s found a few new birds to add to his list of sightings!

I keep myself busy by hosting morning coffees and play dates, and spending time with the children.  Unlike as in Kenya, I also have to clean my own house, which seems to be overwhelming at times.  Ha!  A group of our friends here on our compound hosted a neighborhood party for Halloween where they roasted a pig, had trick or treating, and a potluck dinner.  And at Thanksgiving, we hosted lots of neighbors and friends for a yummy traditional dinner in our home.   It seemed December was here before we knew it…bringing snow, family, and old friends to our front door! 

This December, we visited Sibiu, Romania with Karen and got to see a different part of the country.  Then an old friend, Anne Louise Hanson, whom we knew from our posting in Holland, joined us for the Christmas holiday.  We have visited all of the neighborhood Christmas markets, ridden on ponies and carousels, purchased local crafts and goodies, and baked so many sweets that we should own stock in the local butter company! 

It has been a great year, and we are blessed in so many ways…with health, safety, a lovely warm home, and wonderful, wonderful family and friends!  We miss so many of you during this holiday season, and always, as we are so removed from so many!  But we are equally thankful that God ‘prepares a place’ for us wherever we go, allowing us the privilege of making new friends, experiencing new cultures and seeing new parts of the world. 

We wish a safe and wonderful holiday season for each of you, and pray God will shower His many blessings on each of you in this New Year!

All our love,

Joe, Alison, Mary, Will and Suzy Trimble