I quit my job.

Making something official, officially yours, officially done. What does it mean? Does it need a stamp of approval? This week summer vacation has commenced for thousands of students in our local school district. Water balloons took flight, basketball games picked up and parents fretted about the next three months as to how they would occupy their children. The words poured off my husband’s lips like think maple syrup, “Your never ending summer is just beginning…” I was about to venture into uncharted waters. Yeah, I am a certified teacher…certifiable is more like it, or how I felt many days with the paperwork and meetings and things I seemed to forget to do in the moment.

I am now a homeschooling mom.  Sorry interrupted by life. Asthma. Hopefully we won’t be headed to the hospital. Ah, homeschooling. I should be totally qualified right? Like a dentist pulling his own kids tooth when it’s loose. Where do I start? Which curriculum should I choose? I know one thing to be true, her spiritual development will not dwindle. We will ignite her spirit and see her flourish.

I said goodbye to friends who after one year in this current school and district had become a family. True, dear, had my back and had seen more of me than my family at times. But when stepping out in faith, God finds a way to tell me that I am on His path. Each little piece: a piece of mail comes at the right time, a conversation with a coworker, a job offer, an email that a piece of writing has been accepted. I stepped out in faith and resigned a job that consistently I was told I was good at, but bogged down with. Can this really be right? Can we make it without two incomes? I could definitely make my doubt column bigger than my hope/faith column, but that really wouldn’t be faith. But just knowing my doubts of my ability reminds me of one of my favorite verses Jesus reminds me that, “If you have faith as a mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there, and it will move, and nothing will be impossible for you.” (Matt. 17:20)

I hope each day gets easier. Each one of my coworkers has made a cement footprint on my heart, in my life. Each imprint different, lasting, each made me grow, cry, definitely laugh from my belly, many to tears of joy. Thank you for this year that has gone by too quickly. Never have a left a school year with sadness, like this, a certain cloud of what I will be missing next year, will my students be okay without me there? Why didn’t I listen to my coworkers when they told me of the difference in my students in just a short time I had been their teacher?

The answer is simple: Faith in a road that I skip down. Faith in a journey I hold a map for, but cannot read completely. Hebrews 11:1 and 3 reminds, that “Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” And “By faith we understand that the worlds were framed by the word of God, so that the things which are seen were not made of things which are visible.”

Professional Parent

"Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you're gonna get." Most of us know these immortal words of the Forrest Gump character. I can picture Tom Hanks imparting the wisdom of his mama while sitting on the bench in his cream suit waiting patiently. Life. Birth--You have no choice at. There's no escaping being born. As the parents, you may try to take tip the scale in your favor, or stack the odds. Even with adoption, there is no guarantee. Despite your best efforts in genetic test before birth, Forrest's wisdom still holds true.

My journey with Autism Spectrum Disorders began in 1997, ironically in the spring. Pre-IB English had my number. The assignment: Do something you had never done before and the catch was you could not receive compensation for it. At 16 the things you think of cost money don't earn you money and I had no money to spend. Most of my classmates were doing cool things like jumping out of airplanes or learning to fence. When I was running out of time, my task was chosen for me. The secretary at our chiropractor's office needed someone to tutor her daughter and she could not pay anyone to do it. Her daughter was diagnosed with autism. Autism? Autism--a term I heard that afternoon, and had not heard before or cared enough about to remember until I met the little girl and her mother.

Today, I woke to realize, we survived another high school graduation with our adopted 5-year-old daughter. We waited and watched and worked to see. After 3 stable years in a loving, consistent home, we decided to use some labels, ADHD and Asperger's. With the help of the training I have had and the years of experience (do the math 2012-1997=15) working with kids who have autism spectrum disorders, I should be fully equipped to make it through the day to day with my beautiful, bright, shining daughter. Fifteen minutes before it is time to leave for my nephew's graduation, she comes down from her room wearing exactly what was not laid out for her to wear. The clothes I picked did not match in her mind's eye. They were not "beautiful" and were "ridiculous" among other things. Three attempts later she had on the bones of the outfit, with no sweater over the top of her tank top. The beauty of the mind of my daughter is that she cannot lie: She comes down the stairs wearing a sweatshirt she was to put away in the winter clothes that morning, and I ask her about what she was told to do, she can repeat the exact direction to me. She knows she is in deep water now (although if I told her she was in deep water she would look at me funny because idioms escape her literal thinking). The silent tears falling, slowly one by one, and mommy's lost her patience, now. Not with her daughter, but with herself.

Thank God for a husband who can step in and take the princess to put on her sweater find her fidget to take to graduation. She comes back downstairs. We go over the rules of graduation. We give her an out. It is okay to not go. That if she doesn't feel like her body can handle sitting there all night tonight, it is okay. At this point, the choice is hers. "I want to go, Mommy!" She says. "Can I have a drink there?" And the question of something to drink there continues throughout the event. And I think, "If only I had come prepared with that visual reminder..."

Life is like a box of chocolates...and we made it...and she loved the Panther clap. Congrats Oak Grove High  School Graduates 2012...You never know what you're gonna get!