Screams and blood and chaos precede intense emotion.
I can only imagine that this was the scene that played out in the eyes of witnesses of the recent attacks, of all attacks in truth. What if for a moment we unpack these events through the individuals emotions? I am going to try. Before I start I will add that I have not ever been a bystander or victim in a public attack. However, I will add that sadly I have been both victim and bystander to a my share of traumatic situations.
First we have the perpetrator and as much as I try and desire to have compassion for him or her I struggle as I know many do. What was he or she thinking? What was their motive? Simple ugly hate? Yes, I am certain they fell away and were the victim to some pain in their life at some point. However, I as well as many have too and we don't go around blowing things up, shooting, or stabbing people. With this individual I have little to no ability to dig deep enough to find compassion. This leaves me with a bit of guilt in my stomach or maybe disgust. I'm not sure.
Victims are injured in these violent attacks. I have and many of you have read personal stories of survivors. Fear seems to be a secondary emotion as things occur so fast that little time is given to even feel it. Pain surges through their bodies and strength they never knew they had takes over as they go into survival mode awaiting their rescuers. What of those who do not make it? Of that we will never know their last emotions and thoughts. I pray that a sense of peace and calm came over them. Those that made it are often haunted by nightmares and memories for years to come with new fears threatening to take over their every move. PTSD is wretched! They have months and sometimes years of physical therapy ahead of them. The road to healing is long.
The families of the victims. I cannot begin to imagine what it feels like to await news of a loved ones safety. The pain of hearing of a loss of this type is something I cannot speak to and know not the pain. I hurt as I think of this for them. The anger that lurks with high demands to shadow all peace in the hearts of the survivors family members. In all traumatic events those who couldn't be there to save or fix can often feel weighed down by a heaviness of guilt.
The witnesses, victims without visible injuries, scared for life. They watched in horror not knowing when it would end. Seconds feeling like hours and unable to release images from their minds. Unthinkable pain!
Police officers, Fire fighters, EMT's, all rescuers must place all emotion aside for the moment and rush into the scenes of the unimaginaible, not stop and cry, not break down. They are there to rescue now and feel later. This is what they willingly signed up to do and do it proudly. For them I am forever grateful. In the extremely chaotic situations they must stay calm and remain fair to all. They do not get to choose whom they rescue, they simply rescue. When they feel I can only assume they flood with tears that dare never to cease. Yet as we know they put that uniform back on and do it again the next day - for us all. Lest we not forget the spouses and families of the rescuers that live on edge on a daily basis. Prayers for them ought to be unending.
As I am certain I did not include all who endure pain and missed someone and something, I am merely trying to make a point. My apologies for leaving anything or anyone out.
In each case and in every person a great deal of emotion is felt. One might say life changing emotion. Not one emotion over the next is more real or holds more importance, nor does the individual experiencing it.
I posted on social media yesterday my frustration in so much hate in the world and it aroused massive emotion in several people. Rather than get more upset as I read the outpouring of opinions I felt a sense of gratitude and relief for a few reasons. Our world and the people who occupy it have not by any means lost their passion and strong will. That even in our difference of opinions I know that most would save someone of different race and religious belief from a burning building because of that same passion for life. That brings me comfort. Yes, some are evil but let's  face it this is not a new fact. It is an age old truth. Evil is here and we will face it and we will have to choose how we deal with it.
My suggestion and hope for this world is that we see others with the same value as we wish for ourselves and loved ones.  No matter how many times it has been said and how cliche it sounds we are the ones that must be the change we wish to see. That change must challenge us to open our hearts and minds, to be patient with all things new, a willingness to learn, and place judgement aside. We can inspire others to do good, inspire others to others to love first, inspire others to seek peace. We have the power to inspire!
Let's live 2 inspire!

Walking Shoes

Staring at him sleeping ever so peacefully my heart borders on the brink of explosion. His story, our story, our worlds morphed into one, and my mothers love spreads farther then that of the largest ocean.
From a trauma at birth to a selfless love of a birth mother to a perfectly timed adoption to an infection caught in the nick of time to... well, today. Here, now, I get to be his mother and I get to be part of the story of his uncrushable goals. He is driven and determined with such splendid effervescence.
Emmanuel is, along with the family are slowly but surely learning some sign language. He has a few words that are favorites like 'more', 'eat', 'please', 'thank you', and his newest favorite is 'shoes'. Fully understanding what was upcoming and the outcome of being able to wear shoes following surgery Emmanuel has been focused on shoes. Without fail every trip to any store that sells shoes he has to touch them and hold them up to his feet. Until just yesterday that was a far out of reach goal, honestly a strong doubt for me. Nevertheless I let him hold those shoes and embrace the dream he had.
Thankfully for my sanity, the busyness of opening a second Peak Physique (no we are not the owners), a few foster kiddos, and a multitude of parenting dilemmas I had little time to dwell on the fear and doubt I carried.
The morning of surgery went miraculously smooth from getting out of the house and traffic to Emmanuel not being bothered that he couldn't eat. He was all smiles and hugs and kisses for the nurses. He even raced his favorite nurse who happens to be in a wheel chair too. Jason held up beautifully without completely passing out as person after person came in to repeat in detail what they were going to be doing in the operating room.

Emmanuel squealed with delight as each new person came in declaring them "his". I thought he was just being his happy self but I now believe different. He understood every single word and with a peace I envied and excitement seeping from his pores, he was ready!  He wanted to get those walking shoes!
I held it together exceptionally well all the way into the O.R. as he drifted off to sleep with a smile on the entire time and patting the nurse' hand reassuring her it was okay. Then it happened, a nurse said "I'll walk you out" and the floodgates opened. All the 'what if's' and doubting fears fought to take over as the tears just fell. "What if the surgery didn't work and they couldn't get his feet flat'? and "what if he would never be able to wear shoes?"
Thankfully my husband was as hungry as a bear straight out of hibernation and had mere moments to get food or someone was going to be in danger. This "hangry bear" pulled me out of my tear-filled funk. After filling our bellies we began our 8 hour wait for our son to come out of surgery.
The first call came informing us that his Botox and Phenol injections went smooth and were all done and they would be starting the surgery with updating us every hour and a half. The second call came and things were going well, really well, in fact the nurse said the doctors were "very proud of themselves for some reason" and she would call again in another hour and a half. Less then a hour later the third call came in informing us that the reason the doctors were cheering is that they were done and were closing!
The nurse asked if we had any questions. My voice quivering I said "Yes, we have just one, are his feet flat?" She could hardly get out the word "yes" before she began to sob along with me.
His dream, his goals, his faith are undeniably solid.
Let the shoe shopping begin!!

Was that you I saw protesting outside an abortion clinic? Was that you I saw at the town meeting speaking about the need for unity and love for all? Was that you serving at church on Sunday? Was that you volunteering at the local soup kitchen? Was that you I saw an article about in the paper glorifying all the public good things you do? Yes, indeed it was.
Was it you I saw helping the filthy woman with several children bag her groceries after she paid with food stamps? Was that you helping the orphan get an education and clean water? Was it you that stepped into the elderly mans apartment to keep him company? Was it you who I saw unashamed walking into the prison to visit? Was it you that had lunch at an immigrant owned restaurant? Was it you that people referred to as merciful, kind, and selfless? No, sadly that was not you.
Rather you were seen as a bystander and witness to it all yet never lifted a hand. What you didn't do speaks far louder than what you did. What was left seen and untouched was done by a grotesque heart with awful intent.
Closets are meant for clothes and closed doors for proper privacy, they are not meant for selfish secrets lying in wait. The pathetic example this sets for others falls on the shoulders of the self righteous leaving one more empty then a corpse. Act with sincerity, speak with honesty, live with integrity. Let your secret and public self become one.

Its claws dug deep as my thoughts became wildly engrossed, temptation slithered in like the snake it was. Holding tightly as my grip slowly began to give way, my loyalty and values quickly making way for excuses and justifications. Could I really do it? Could I really be that person, simply walking away? I have been happy, loved, cared for, doted on, and yet I made a choice. 

I cheated. 

After years of passionate and sincere concern, and the pure desire to see only the best for me I walked into another's hands. I will never be the same. 

I didn't intend to do it really, it just happened. In a moment of desperation I reached out to another for comfort. I picked up the phone and before I knew I was in the hands of another hair stylist. She meant nothing to me. I felt dirty the entire time, holding all intimate details about my life a secret, a secret that I only share with one. 

I am so sorry Danielle! 

Danielle, it was never you, it was me. How could I think for one minute that the drive was too long and too far? There is no there you. There is no other GB and Co. 

If you will have me, I want to come back. 

Statistics changing for the worse by the minute, children wait in hospitals, shelters, and unthinkable conditions in a country that has a plethora of resources, our very own USA.  One resource we lack? Foster homes –good solid foster homes with parents willing to put their hearts on the line for the youngest of our people.

Social media is plastered with disdain for refugees, gun control, gender identity, LGBT communities, and the list goes on. Might I suggest we take that energy and passion and redirect it? If those who are so eager and quick to blurt out their passionate words about a wall being put up to keep “them” out, and desire only to take care of “our own” then, if I dare ask, why aren’t you?  

Hate has become little more than white noise as words fly with frequent fire from the tongues of many.

hate

1.to dislike intensely or passionately; fe.el extreme aversion for or extreme hostility toward; detest:

2.to be unwilling; dislike:

In contrast……..

love

1.a profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person.

2.a feeling of warm personal attachment or deep affection, as for a parent, child, or friend.

Ahh, love. What a softer feel it has even in the very sound of the word. For all of us the word love has not only feeling and meaning but more importantly, memories. Children waiting for safe homes and forever homes deserve those memories to be beautifully real.  As we treasure of friends, family, country, so ought we treasure the seemingly forgottenchildren of America.

For a brief moment place aside the hate and negativity (yes we all have some) replace it with the desire to change the world for a child. Your own world will be transformed, your heart renewed, and your hate will slowly dissipate – if you only let it. Live 2 inspire! 

My emotional, rabbit trail blog....... this day holds so much.....

Do Not Resuscitate - some of the heaviest and trauma filled words I have ever had to hear. I can't even recall the face of the doctor or his name, it was all a blur really. However through that pain and blur I had to find the strength to say one of two small words - yes or no. Those words never seemed as big as that day, big and selfish and unbearable. Finding the strength deep within I said yes.
My mother was suffering, there was no doubt about that and the doctors could do no more to repair what she had done to her body over the years. Even with that knowledge it made it no easier. June 18th the phone rang and my heart sank at the words being spoken. She was gone. Then came the tide of emotions. Anger, sadness, guilt, remorse, relief, peace even attempted sneak in, confusion, fear, free. Sorting them out wasn't easy and proved to be a lengthy process. In fact I am certain I am not done grieving and that's okay.
This day holds my mother.

My original plan was to write about my reflections of our time away but then came the memories of years past and well, that changed the plan. I suppose those memories are meant to be a part of my reflections as well, and as intertwined as they are so will my blog be.

Our first family vacation with Emmanuel home held great anticipation. Planning for our family size is challenging enough and then we add in the emotional expectations of yet another first for our little boy. My mother's heart wanted only the best time had and the best memories made.
We started out on our great adventure to the Black Hills of South Dakota with our van packed and mom made activity books, a perfectly planned trip was underway. With fabulous foresight we purchased a couple of ibooks chosen by the children, one of which was turned on right away, 'Out Of My Mind' by Sharon M. Draper.
By the end of the first chapter my meticulously planned and dreamed up hopes for our trip faded into a magnificent new reality. What does my son want for this trip? What would he say if he could tell me, ask me? I wrapped my mind around the new idea forming. Let's let him show us and tell us what he wants on this trip. He has no problem getting his point across and being heard so why not let him? Thus far he has informed us of his disgust for leaving fun places and not being able to take snakes home with him, his love for the beach and fearless desire to open reptile enclosures. He has shown us he is not one bit claustrophobic, he is not impressed by huge animals next to the van, loves all creatures and believes ice cream ought to be eaten with every meal. I am not sure if he understands what a perfectly planned vacation is however I am positive that he understands the value of time together. His favorite part of the vacation thus far is being fought over by his siblings. He loves to hear "no I want to be Emmanuel's buddy" and he just laughs with delight. So do I!
This day holds my beautifully failed plans.

The cabin was quiet as my eyes opened and begged to focus, a very welcome peaceful sense of quiet. Jason, Titus, and Miriam had long since left for their hike up Harney Peak and Kira, Dayton, and Jordan had begun their trek back to Minnesota in the wee hours of the sunless morning. Yes, Kira and her boyfriend Jordan came out mid week and joined us on vacation. It wasn't planned nor was the heartbreaking news of her miscarrying the baby that was already deeply loved. Family and some rest and relaxation were in need for both her and Jordan. So they drove out to meet us. Seeing them relax and be refreshed and getting to love on them was a blessing. Collectively we grieved in our own ways, some silently, some used words, some just cried,  nonetheless we all miss baby Elijah.
This day holds my grandson.

In the stillness of the morning with a cup of blueberry tea in hand my thoughts drift to my adventurous husband taking two of our kids up a mountain. His love for the outdoors, adrenaline rushes, and his kids combined never fail to make good stories. The anticipated stories came as the children burst through the cabin door already talking a mile a minute. Stories of the mountain goat dad refused to let Miriam pet and try to take home, stories of the competition between siblings, stories of my sons need to use the bathroom the entire hike.  Laughter and memories fill the cabin with joy as my husbands looks at his children with great pride.
This day holds my memory making husband and best father in the world.

At first sight we are in love, in awe, astounded and all together frightened. The safety we held is now far out of reach, in fact seems too overwhelming really. Our baby was perfectly protected from the world with all of its germs and filth and now they are out in the open where we can't protect and control their environment. Our children now become vulnerable which brings on a feeling of an odd fear we hadn't imagined. 

This is not just any old blog, this is, in true Neal fashion, one of the most authentic and transparent and vulnerable moments of my life. 

My baby is having a baby! 

Really all I can see is my little girl with her flipped up bob hair cut getting on the bus for the first day of kindergarten. That is my mothers heart and I suppose that is normal. I love this girl - my baby so so much.  

No, she is not married and if you ask me how this happened I will tell you how babies are made and hope you can figure it out from there.

My girl is now experiencing the lovely joys of morning sickness and cravings. Is it rude for me to say "after what you did to my body nah nah nah nah"? 

Seriously, both Jason and I were taken back by the news and took some time to pray and let it settle in. Our baby is having a baby! The feeling of wanting her to be in that protective bubble of a womb came rushing back. Will she remember to take her vitamins? Will she eat enough kale and protein? So many questions and thoughts came flooding in. 

My heart overflows with love for my girl. Jason and I are now on this journey with her, a journey we didn't see coming, but nonetheless we take with our girl. 

For all of what lies ahead, the tiny life growing inside Kira - our GRAND baby, and for the relationships being built along this path, we beg for your prayers and thoughts.