Being an Advocate

I'm typically a shy person when it comes to asking for things in public. Someone might be smoking too close to me and instead of asking them to move, I'll just move away to make things easier on myself. Salary negotiations give me no small amount of anxiety.

I've been forced to get over that discomfort a bit since my son and I both have food sensitivities. His are so severe that he wasn't growing before we figured it out, and he quickly gets sick if he's gotten accidentally exposed to something - mostly gluten and dairy. I've had to be okay asking someone to please make another hamburger without the bun - no, they can't just take the bun off because it's a food allergy (and hoping I'm saying it nicely enough that they do what I ask).

Last week was a bit hard for me in the advocacy department. Since we were at camp, all our meals were served in the communal dining hall. I brought a special bag of food to store in the walk-in fridge since I knew the drill from last year, but even sneaking back into the bustling big kitchen to get the bag felt like an imposition.  I felt too uncomfortable asking them to make special pasta, or getting them to tell me all the ingredients in each of the dishes, for all three meals. I just made my best guesses re. the food and supplemented with the bag we brought.

Then Alex got sick. I felt angry that I was saddled with this burden of asking, and angry at myself for being so uncomfortable about asking and having failed the test.  And then, while drinking my gluten-free beer in the dinner line, I met another gluten-free woman who has celiac. She would go in the kitchen in the morning and get the run-down as best she could from the cook, and I'd ask her the report. And the next night, miracle of miracles, she even asked the cook to make us some eggplant parmesan with no breading. I still had to hold up the dinner line asking for my special meal, but I savored every bite of that delicious eggplant.

It was so nice to find someone else on the journey, who ended up being my advocate too as she asked about her own needs. It took the pressure off me, but it also reminded me an important thing: ask, you and you shall receive eggplant parmesan.

Summer of Bald

I just spent a blissful, unconnected week in the mountains at a family camp run by our city's park and rec department. The setting was rustic, and it was my chance to start the "summer of bald."

I knew I wasn't going to bring my wig(s) - on the trip. They don't work well in the pool, or the lake. I did bring lots of hats - it got cold at night, and big hats for lakeside. But I went bald lots too.

I got one cancer inquiry - but she said she doubted it since I looked so healthy. And it gave me the reason to talk to another woman who confided that she was suffering from extremely serious autoimmune issues, including the removal of her colon.

I got a chance to think about a lot of things over the unplugged week - including crafting some big goals and heart's desires that I am working toward.

And I realized a few important truths as well, including:

I am healthy.

I feel so good right now. I can run, I can play soccer. I can bike to the baseball game and home again and not think twice about my body.

A friend told me that there was another woman at the camp with Alopecia, but I didn't know it. She said she wore a hat all the time, so I didn't notice any bald spots.

And so, this summer, I invite all you women and men out there to the Summer of Bald. I will see you in the airports, shopping malls, and swimming pools. And I will be extremely grateful that I am healthy.

It Only Takes One...

I was watching a movie the other night called "Long Life, Happiness and Prosperity". It was about a girl who is desperately trying to set up her single mom with a husband. She tries all sorts of Chinese magic tricks from her book, and things do happen (some might call it magic, I call it God). What struck me the most about the story was the deep faith of that little girl. Despite resistance from her mom, friends and neighbors, she persevered in her goal. And you know what? Her faith was enough to make the universe spin.

It was a good reminder that sometimes I am too focused on getting others in step with me when I want to see a big change. If only you did the following three things, well then you'll be happier.  And the more I focus on what they need to do, or how I could change them, the less I focus on me and what I can do.

And I've realized that my faith alone is enough to make the change I need. It may not be the change I seek, but when I ask God change will come, of that I am certain. Like the girl in the movie, I can have enough hope and prayers and joy for all of us.

I know that my faith is enough to move mountains in my universe, but it's always nice to have a good word along the way. This week I got to spend some time with my new friend Zohary and she confessed that when she did a survey one of his spiritual gifts was "encouragement".  It was so appropriate for her - in little ways that she may not even realize she has encouraged me to be a more giving spouse, a budding writer, and someone to be accountable to for my goals.

So tonight God I pray that I continue to know that my faith is enough to bring joy and peace to myself and our family. I also pray that I can be the one to encourage another, in ways both large and small.  It only takes one.

Inaction

A few weeks ago, I posted on a friend's blog that this was my goal for the next three months: "I want to remake our home into a calm place of refuge that is both filled with joy and relaxation - a place to sink into at the end of the day and a place to celebrate during the day."

Since then I've hired a babysitter a couple of days a week and have a) started networking to find my next job b) updated my resume and linkedin profile c) made some calls that were overdue and d) generally checked a bunch of things off my list.

I have done absolutely nothing on the home project.

Last week I decided maybe I could bypass the whole issue by aha! moving to a new house. I thought this was brilliant idea of course, and immediately spent too many hours on zillow and other sites searching for our next great place. My husband reminded me that this was not in our plans for the immediate future. So the inaction continues.

I say that I want my hair to grow back. Yet there are also things that I know I need to do, that I have not prioritized.

Like sleep. If there's one thing that's supposed to help the immune system - it's getting those 9+ hours, particularly between 10:00 pm and midnight. And I haven't been faithfully using the rosemary oil and vinegar rinse that my accupuncturist gave me.

I'm not trying to beat myself up. But I do think it is healthy, every once in a while, to examine what I *say* I want to accomplish, and what I am actually doing. It's easy when something looms so big to never take a step at all (home project!). But I know I just need to take the first step. And then take another smaller one. And then to write those goals up on a piece of paper that I can look at every day so I can remember how I am doing.

And so now I'm going to sign off, and go to bed. :)

The power of words

I met a new friend last night, Emily, who also has Alopecia. It was really refreshing to meet someone who knew exactly what I'd been going through, and talk a bit about our stories. She's been hairless for seven years.

We both agreed that one of the hardest things about being bald is that at least once, often multiple times a day (if we are not wearing a wig) someone will come up and ask us "So HOW are you?" or ask how long we've been in recovery. Last year a biker dude came up to Emily at a hotel and told her that he'd just lost his wife a year ago to cancer. It's hard to answer that question and acknowledge the sentiment without being too awkward. Usually I just blurt out "I don't have cancer. I have alopecia, it's an auto-immune thing." Though I don't think I would do that do the grieving biker. I might just accept his sympathy.

As we traded stories, Emily told me a story that really reminded me of the power of words, and made me really angry. She had seen the renowned expert on Alopecia in town after the sudden loss of all her hair. She was expecting a bit of medical insight, perhaps some sympathy and instead got scathing advice. "Look in the mirror," the doctor said. "I see a woman who needs botox." It's shameful that someone with her power would use her words to cut down a woman that is already feeling vulnerable.

Words don't have to be obviously biting to be hurtful. I know that I've made a comment before intending to be funny, only to realize that the joke I made to the man at church about shaving his legs was really in poor taste. It just came out! I learned a term for those words at a diversity training once - microaggressions.

The amazing thing is, we really have the power to affect people with our words. The people close to us, certainly, and even the people we run into once and have a conversation. My friend Larry regularly prays for "divine appointments" to speak with people about God and Jesus. That's way too scary for me, and it feels like I'm just surviving here instead of reaching out to others. But I am trying to be mindful that in each conversation I can leave a positive mark, or a negative one.

Maybe the next time I get the cancer question I'll say: "Thanks for asking. I have an autoimmune condition that made me lose my hair, but I don't have cancer, and I thank God every day for my health."

Integrity

As we approach father's day, I've been thinking a lot about two men in my life: my dad and my husband. Both are men who have contributed much to the world and their families - and there is one trait they share completely: integrity.

I've watched my Dad navigate many situations, and tell me about a few others, and it was clear that he always did the right thing. He never told me "this is the right thing to do" in fact, the way he saw it and presented it to me - there really was only one option. I remember before our wedding he and his wife hosted a dinner for us a couple of nights before the big day. When my Dad learned that my aunt and cousin from the other side of the family would be in town, he insisted that we invite them (and anyone else who showed up early enough to come). I was worried about budget but he insisted everyone was welcome. My Dad has always been a saver and an investor, but he has taught me that it is important to be deliberately generous with my time and my money.

My husband is also a man of deep integrity. He slogged away many years at his own company before he sold it, and there were many many years when he was ready to let go and walk away. But he stayed, and as he puts it, he didn't always do the most profitable thing for himself, but he always did the right thing for the company and his employees. He has created a culture of trust and respect between himself and his employees that is only built on his integrity.

Thank you men in my life for the care you put into doing the right thing for all those around you.

Burying our Talent

I've been thinking a lot about abundance, and money, and how much is enough lately. I am planning to go back to work in the fall and will balance decisions about salary, and flexibility, and time with family.  Keiko posted a comment on my last post about the need for a leap of faith to believe in sufficiency, that we will have enough and that we are enough. She was inspired by a quote from the book the "Soul of Money" by Lynne Twist.  "When we let go of the chase for more, and consciously examine and experience the resources we already have, we discover our resources are deeper than we knew or imagined. In the nourishment of our attention, our assets expand and grow."

This quote reminded me of a story Jesus told that Pastor Terry recounted in his talk last week. The story comes from Matthew 25:14. Three servants were each given bags of silver before their master went on a long trip, each according to his abilities. One was given five bags, and he invested it and made five more. Another was given two bags, and he made two more. The one who was given one bag was afraid, and he buried the bag, and dug it up when his master returned. The master was angry and took away the one bag from the servant, and gave it to the servant with ten bags. "For to all those who have, more will be given, and they will have an abundance; but from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away."

What's especially interesting to me is that each bag was worth more than 15 years' wages for a laborer, and the term used was "a talent".  Those bags were money enough for retirement.

God's plan for us is not to earn "enough" at a young age and then retire. Yes, save for the future, but also give freely and with an open heart. Because if I truly believe that I do not have enough to live or to give, I will never have enough. I will always need more. And that is just like burying the money and talent that I do have - in fear.

And that is the other side of the story - the abundance part. When we take what we are given - the bags of silver that are our time, and our talent, and our energy - and we invest them in ourselves and our world, God has promised that abundance will follow.

What would you do if you were given 15 years of your salary today? What have you buried, in fear that you will lose it?