Almost every morning on the way to school, my 4 year old requests that we listen to the "Jesus song" aka Unto the Lamb on our Cathedral Live CD.
I am always singing along to the song as we drive. Yesterday morning I was silent. My mind was filled with the coming events of the day, anxiety and dread.
A minute or so into the song, my 4 year old cried out "Mommy! Why aren't you singing"?
His simple question took my breath away. Why wasn't I singing? I was caught up in my earthly worries instead of giving them to God and spending my few precious minutes praising the Father with my child.
God speaks to us, even through our children. He reminds me to "be still".... and to "enter his courts with Thanksgiving." When my eyes are focused on Him, my earthly worries fade away as I trust Him and lift my hands in praise.
Enter his gates with thanksgiving and his courts with praise; give thanks to him and praise his name.
~ Psalm 100:4
Come, let us sing for joy to the Lord;
let us shout aloud to the Rock of our salvation.
2 Let us come before him with thanksgiving
and extol him with music and song.
~ Psalm 95:1-2
" ...I saw the Lord seated on a throne, high and exalted, and the train of his robe filled the temple."
~ Isiah 6:1
Unto the Lamb By: Brian Wing
I can see Jesus, high and exalted,
My eyes are fixed upon His face,
it shines like the sun.
I can see Jesus, clothed in glory,
He is high and lifted up,
And His train fills the temple
And all of the angels cry holy,
All the saints cry holy,
All creation cries holy,
Holy is the Lamb
All praise unto the Lamb
Who sits on the throne,
Honor and power, dominion and praise,
Unto the Lamb, who was and is, and is to come!
(You can hear a sample of the song here....)
http://www.cathedralofpraise.org/pages/page.asp?page_id=167339&programId=108342
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Monday, August 6, 2012
A New Start
Wow. Where have the last 7 months gone???
I haven't posted in sooooo long. God has kept me busy with new opened doors and adventures.
I would like to start posting more about my journeys this year with my little girl who is now 2 1/2! It is time to dig the preschool boxes back out and re use all of the materials and sensory bins I spent countless hours creating for my boys.
One of my new adventures has been starting Beach Mama Jewelry on Etsy. You can read more about how I got started on this journey on my jewelry blog.
18.8% of each jewelry sale is donated to Autism Speaks in honor of my precious niece Olivia Paige, who is part of the 1 in 88 children affected by Autism.
Speaking of Olivia, I am still in awe of the outpouring of love, prayers and support for her trip to the Arthrogryposis clinic in Seattle. You helped me raise over $700 through donations and Beach Mama Jewelry sales! Your prayers helped move mountains :) Thank you.
God Bless all of my preschool Mommies as you start your new school year!!! I can't wait to read about your adventures :)
I haven't posted in sooooo long. God has kept me busy with new opened doors and adventures.
I would like to start posting more about my journeys this year with my little girl who is now 2 1/2! It is time to dig the preschool boxes back out and re use all of the materials and sensory bins I spent countless hours creating for my boys.
One of my new adventures has been starting Beach Mama Jewelry on Etsy. You can read more about how I got started on this journey on my jewelry blog.
18.8% of each jewelry sale is donated to Autism Speaks in honor of my precious niece Olivia Paige, who is part of the 1 in 88 children affected by Autism.
Speaking of Olivia, I am still in awe of the outpouring of love, prayers and support for her trip to the Arthrogryposis clinic in Seattle. You helped me raise over $700 through donations and Beach Mama Jewelry sales! Your prayers helped move mountains :) Thank you.
God Bless all of my preschool Mommies as you start your new school year!!! I can't wait to read about your adventures :)
Monday, January 30, 2012
Special Needs Awareness Preschool Pack
My first preschool pack is ready!
I was inspired to create my first preschool pack by my niece Olivia. She is 7 years old and has low functioning autism and distal arthrogryposis multiplex congentia. (AMC).
Click here to download ...
Faith. Hope. And Love.
We have Faith. Faith that our loving God is in control and can use Olivia for His good.
We have Hope. Hope that one day Olivia will walk and talk. Hope that our lives will continue to be blessed by her.
But, oh how true it is- the greatest of these is Love.
Today is World Autism Awareness Day. The month of April is Autism Awareness Month. And while I've been convinced for quite some time that Olivia is autistic, this is the first year we're recognizing Autism Awareness Day since her diagnosis last summer.
Our house emitted a blue glow last night. Olivia, Jacob, and I wore blue yesterday. Brian was decked out in blue, too, in his fire department uniform. :) I shared a link or two about Autism Awareness Day on Facebook. I had a chance to talk to a tech vendor who is involved in a project at work as we looked at my new iPad. As we explored some of the apps I had loaded, I was able to share with him some of the apps we have as communication tools for Olivia.
The grand gesture of setting aside a day or a month to bring the conversation of autism to the table is wonderful. We bathe our lives in blue for a day, hoping that the general population will stop for a moment and think about, read about, ask about our journey with autism. But, this day will come and go. This month will come and go. And when it's over, will anything be different? Will I have affected change in any way? Will there be more compassion and acceptance (not just tolerance)? Will the world feel the same urgency to solve this mystery as my heart does? Will the world see my daughter as I do, amazing and worthy and a child of God?I pray, yes. Oh, how I pray.
There are so many others on this journey who have said it so perfectly. I know my words will fail me. But, I believe it is important to try and share a little of what autism looks like in our family...
Olivia is watching Yo Gabba Gabba, over and over again this morning, waving her arms, clapping her hands, purposefully positioned up against the entertainment center so she can kick the cabinet doors. This is her comfort zone. This is our autism.
She pulls on my chin, wanting me to say something. I search her eyes, grasping at anything that might clue me in to what she hopes I'll say. What were we just talking about? Does she want me to sing? She just uttered a sound. What is she trying to say? She tries desperately to communicate, but only sometimes. And when she tries, I don't want to miss the opportunity to engage with her. So, I try to read her mind. Quickly, before she gives up and retreats back into her world without me. This is our autism.
She watches a favorite show. She sings and claps and becomes completely overwhelmed by the joy of it all that she suddenly shifts into a different emotion. It's too much for her. She gets up on her knees, pulls her head back, and slams it onto the floor. Over and over until we get to her to stop her. The knot on her head has formed into bone over the years, but the head-banging can be so rare sometimes that it seems unfair to have her wear her helmet all day. So, we try to anticipate the meltdown. We don't watch Go, Diego, Go, because she loves the start of the theme song, but will suddenly flip out halfway through. Every time. The helmet is never too far away, and I swear sometimes she seems to find comfort in its confinement. This is our autism.
Olivia is functionally nonverbal. She very rarely communicates her needs through words or sounds or signs. Instead, she grabs our hand or arm and pushes it in the direction of something she wants. Or she bangs her head. Or pinches. Or pulls hair. And our minds race to solve the mystery of what she needs or wants. Sometimes we solve the mystery. And sometimes, we end up frustrated and bleeding and begging God to tell us why we are in a place where our daughter cannot communicate with us. But, oh how she loves to sing. She can keep the beat to any song, and she tries to sing the words. It may just be a syllable, or maybe even a different sound altogether, but you can weave the sounds together and realize that she is singing along. Music is her life. She won't sign to communicate her needs, but she's beginning to sign some of her songs. I pray she is one day able to use those signs when the music is off. This is our autism.
I'm pretty sure we own every single infant and toddler toy in existence. She couldn't care less about most of them. Instead, she is happy with a bag filled with flashcards. She pulls one off the bottom of the stack, looks at it, and files it back in the bag on top of the stack. Over and over. Once in a while, she might try to name the object or letter. The play kitchen in her playroom is never touched. The pretend-play toys that fill her baskets are just taking up space, only appealing to her if they play music or have buttons that can be pushed over and over. This is our autism.
Almost every single day, she wets her pants. She will be six years old in May and she isn't toilet-trained. There is no hope in sight of her gaining this skill. She qualified for Medicaid as "permanently disabled" (that label is a hard one to swallow) and the CAP-C program, so we receive diapers every month on our doorstep. Ah, that is so nice! I think, how spoiled we are to have diapers delivered to our door! And then I think, our five year old daughter is still peeing and pooping in a diaper, and I don't know if that will ever change. Diapers on our doorstep is fair. Yet, our girl can hold her pee and then flood that diaper. We've tried so many different kinds and have yet to find one that can hold it all. So, every day, she wears at least two outfits. Because one will most certainly be soaked sometime during the day. This is our autism.
I know what she means when she utters, "Oh, sah." I know because one day she had her fingers under the movable island in the kitchen as I was moving it and the skin on her finger was sliced. I felt so badly and just kept apologizing, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Now, when she is hurt or seems upset about something, she will pull on my chin and say, "oh, sah." Is this like a mom kissing a boo-boo to make it better? Or does she just think those words communicate pain? I don't know. This is our autism.
Who will know what "oh, sah" means when we're gone? What will her life be like as an adult? What will we do when puberty arrives and she starts her period? What happens when she is stronger than me and I can't stop her from hitting her head? Will there be funding to provide the education she needs and deserves? How can I help combat the ignorance and cold-hearted feelings that some people have of disabled children? Is my faith in God's plan strong enough to withstand the dark valleys? Am I doing all I can to let Olivia's life bring glory to Him? Will this world ever move past Autism Awareness and instead come together to truly advocate for and help our children? To help our girl? So many questions. So many fears. So much love.
This is our autism.
I am offering this preschool pack to help raise money for Autism Speaks in honor of Olivia, and every other precious child affected by Autism.
If you are unable to donate, please join me in praying
for all of the precious children and families affected by Autism and other special needs.
Please pray for the incredible and mysterious journey each family faces.
May they have peace, guidance, faith, and energy to face each new challenge.
And pray for sleep for the parents who have not had a regular nights sleep in years because of the mysterious sleep patterns of their Autistic child!
Click here to donate...
We take a leap of faith. We decide that we will see all the doctors, read all we can, advocate for her, push her, try new things, never give up, and travel this journey together. Brian, me, Jacob, and Olivia.
I've said so many times that Olivia has taught me so much. There is so much truth to that statement that the words don't do it justice. She is an angel sent to us from God. She is meant to be my daughter. Brian's daughter. Jacob's sister. She is a miraculous mystery. And just when I start the "why's" and "what if's," I'm reminded yet again that it isn't about that at all.
It's about love.
It's about the fact that I would lay down my life for that baby girl. It's about the fact that she has drawn me closer to God than I've ever been in my life. It's about how amazed we are that God has entrusted us with her precious life.
It's not easy. But, just like any other parent, we make hard decisions, unsure of the outcome.
I've said so many times that Olivia has taught me so much. There is so much truth to that statement that the words don't do it justice. She is an angel sent to us from God. She is meant to be my daughter. Brian's daughter. Jacob's sister. She is a miraculous mystery. And just when I start the "why's" and "what if's," I'm reminded yet again that it isn't about that at all.
It's about love.
It's about the fact that I would lay down my life for that baby girl. It's about the fact that she has drawn me closer to God than I've ever been in my life. It's about how amazed we are that God has entrusted us with her precious life.
It's not easy. But, just like any other parent, we make hard decisions, unsure of the outcome.
Faith. Hope. And Love.
We have Faith. Faith that our loving God is in control and can use Olivia for His good.
We have Hope. Hope that one day Olivia will walk and talk. Hope that our lives will continue to be blessed by her.
But, oh how true it is- the greatest of these is Love.
Here is a look at Autism from Olivia's Mom...
Saturday, April 02, 2011
This is our autism.
Our house emitted a blue glow last night. Olivia, Jacob, and I wore blue yesterday. Brian was decked out in blue, too, in his fire department uniform. :) I shared a link or two about Autism Awareness Day on Facebook. I had a chance to talk to a tech vendor who is involved in a project at work as we looked at my new iPad. As we explored some of the apps I had loaded, I was able to share with him some of the apps we have as communication tools for Olivia.
The grand gesture of setting aside a day or a month to bring the conversation of autism to the table is wonderful. We bathe our lives in blue for a day, hoping that the general population will stop for a moment and think about, read about, ask about our journey with autism. But, this day will come and go. This month will come and go. And when it's over, will anything be different? Will I have affected change in any way? Will there be more compassion and acceptance (not just tolerance)? Will the world feel the same urgency to solve this mystery as my heart does? Will the world see my daughter as I do, amazing and worthy and a child of God?I pray, yes. Oh, how I pray.
There are so many others on this journey who have said it so perfectly. I know my words will fail me. But, I believe it is important to try and share a little of what autism looks like in our family...
Olivia is watching Yo Gabba Gabba, over and over again this morning, waving her arms, clapping her hands, purposefully positioned up against the entertainment center so she can kick the cabinet doors. This is her comfort zone. This is our autism.
She pulls on my chin, wanting me to say something. I search her eyes, grasping at anything that might clue me in to what she hopes I'll say. What were we just talking about? Does she want me to sing? She just uttered a sound. What is she trying to say? She tries desperately to communicate, but only sometimes. And when she tries, I don't want to miss the opportunity to engage with her. So, I try to read her mind. Quickly, before she gives up and retreats back into her world without me. This is our autism.
She watches a favorite show. She sings and claps and becomes completely overwhelmed by the joy of it all that she suddenly shifts into a different emotion. It's too much for her. She gets up on her knees, pulls her head back, and slams it onto the floor. Over and over until we get to her to stop her. The knot on her head has formed into bone over the years, but the head-banging can be so rare sometimes that it seems unfair to have her wear her helmet all day. So, we try to anticipate the meltdown. We don't watch Go, Diego, Go, because she loves the start of the theme song, but will suddenly flip out halfway through. Every time. The helmet is never too far away, and I swear sometimes she seems to find comfort in its confinement. This is our autism.
Olivia is functionally nonverbal. She very rarely communicates her needs through words or sounds or signs. Instead, she grabs our hand or arm and pushes it in the direction of something she wants. Or she bangs her head. Or pinches. Or pulls hair. And our minds race to solve the mystery of what she needs or wants. Sometimes we solve the mystery. And sometimes, we end up frustrated and bleeding and begging God to tell us why we are in a place where our daughter cannot communicate with us. But, oh how she loves to sing. She can keep the beat to any song, and she tries to sing the words. It may just be a syllable, or maybe even a different sound altogether, but you can weave the sounds together and realize that she is singing along. Music is her life. She won't sign to communicate her needs, but she's beginning to sign some of her songs. I pray she is one day able to use those signs when the music is off. This is our autism.
I'm pretty sure we own every single infant and toddler toy in existence. She couldn't care less about most of them. Instead, she is happy with a bag filled with flashcards. She pulls one off the bottom of the stack, looks at it, and files it back in the bag on top of the stack. Over and over. Once in a while, she might try to name the object or letter. The play kitchen in her playroom is never touched. The pretend-play toys that fill her baskets are just taking up space, only appealing to her if they play music or have buttons that can be pushed over and over. This is our autism.
Almost every single day, she wets her pants. She will be six years old in May and she isn't toilet-trained. There is no hope in sight of her gaining this skill. She qualified for Medicaid as "permanently disabled" (that label is a hard one to swallow) and the CAP-C program, so we receive diapers every month on our doorstep. Ah, that is so nice! I think, how spoiled we are to have diapers delivered to our door! And then I think, our five year old daughter is still peeing and pooping in a diaper, and I don't know if that will ever change. Diapers on our doorstep is fair. Yet, our girl can hold her pee and then flood that diaper. We've tried so many different kinds and have yet to find one that can hold it all. So, every day, she wears at least two outfits. Because one will most certainly be soaked sometime during the day. This is our autism.
I know what she means when she utters, "Oh, sah." I know because one day she had her fingers under the movable island in the kitchen as I was moving it and the skin on her finger was sliced. I felt so badly and just kept apologizing, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Now, when she is hurt or seems upset about something, she will pull on my chin and say, "oh, sah." Is this like a mom kissing a boo-boo to make it better? Or does she just think those words communicate pain? I don't know. This is our autism.
Who will know what "oh, sah" means when we're gone? What will her life be like as an adult? What will we do when puberty arrives and she starts her period? What happens when she is stronger than me and I can't stop her from hitting her head? Will there be funding to provide the education she needs and deserves? How can I help combat the ignorance and cold-hearted feelings that some people have of disabled children? Is my faith in God's plan strong enough to withstand the dark valleys? Am I doing all I can to let Olivia's life bring glory to Him? Will this world ever move past Autism Awareness and instead come together to truly advocate for and help our children? To help our girl? So many questions. So many fears. So much love.
This is our autism.
Be sure to visit these other awesome blogs for more wonderful Preschool Packs and Printables!
Some of you have requested lesson plans for the
and I finally finished them!
You can download them here...
I have included links to other great resources and teaching ideas I have found, including a list of children's books. Here are some of the books we used. There are other great ones out there, but we were limited to the titles our local library had on hand. The first 3 were big hits with the boys. The others are geared towards kids a little bit older.
We also continue to watch our Signing Time DVDs almost every day. If you haven't read the story behind the creation of these DVDs, you can read it here.
Here is a quote from it...
While sign language is beneficial for every child, Rachel confesses a more personal goal. She says, "My hope is that everyone will know a little sign, just as most people know a little Spanish - so when your child sees my child at the park, there would be no awkwardness, no communication barrier, just three signs... "Hi ... friend ... play'... that is all it would take to change her world."
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Valentine's Day Sensory Bin
Our Valentine's Day Sensory Bin.
Inside we have...
Pink rice
colored with a few drops of red food coloring and a few drops of rubbing alcohol
We put it on paper towels to dry for a few hours
Pink Beads
Red Beads
Red Pom Poms
Glitter Hearts
Red Foil Shreds
Heart Shape Containers
Valentine's Theme Sight Words & Phrases
Little Thomas was ready to dive right in. Sensory Bins are one of his all time favortie activities and aside from cleaning up all of the rice, they are my favorite too :)
Counting Coconuts & No Time For Flashcards have cute Valentine's Sensory Tubs also. :)
Do you have a Valentine's Sensory Bin you want to share?
Post your link here...
Saturday, December 24, 2011
Our Christmas Miracle
This morning the Lord blessed my family with a Christmas miracle.
My niece, Olivia, quit breathing this morning in her father's arms. She turned blue. Her parents worst fears played out before their eyes as they called 911 and my brother in love started rescue breathing. After what must have seemed like an eternity to them my precious niece opened her eyes and began breathing on her own again. She is stable now and has been diagnosed with pneumonia and is on oxygen and IV antibiotics. This Christmas will be spent in the hospital as she is surrounded by loved ones and of course her favorite flashcards to flip through. (She has low functioning autism so if you are the child of an autistic parent then you understand ;)
This Christmas will find me on my knees singing praises to the giver of Life. He has blessed us beyond words on this Christmas Eve and our hearts will forever sing his praises. For the second time in my nieces 6 years of life, her guardian angel (aka as her father) was by her side at just the right minute to bring her back to life and restore her breathing. He is a firefighter, paramedic and hero.
Please join me in praying for a quick recovery and for her family who will spend this Christmas by her side praying their own prayers of Thanksgiving.
To God be the Glory!
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Shining Our Lights on Pinterest
I have been on a blogging break for wayyyyyy too long!
For those of you who want to see some of the ideas we have and will be using in our
curriculum please check out
Saturday, August 27, 2011
My First Preschool Graduate!
Captain Rex has officially graduated from Shining Our Lights Preschool and is now in K5...and I don't like it one bit! These years are flying by wayyyyyyy too quickly!
Here are some pictures from his frist day of K5.
Can you tell he got tired of having the camera follow him around?
We are still settling into our new routine but hopefully we will have the hang of it soon. We will still be working heavily on reading skills at home and I will be posting on some of our adventures in reading soon.
Tinkerbell is now 18 months old and ready for Tot School so we will be starting on that in the coming weeks!
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