Sunday, January 29, 2012
Friday, January 27, 2012
On Safari in Kenya: Part 1
At first glance, one might think this is a story of Noah's Ark as the elephants arrive two-by-two.
However, it is not a story about Noah's Ark, but in my book, it is nearly as miraculous.

It all began in the Fall of 2005, when we sold our rural home to move closer to the hub of activity in our beloved Alleluia Community.

We could not find a suitable home to buy, and we needed to vacate our home for the new owners. That's when we responded to a call for help from a dear priest friend in Kenya.

He was looking for a chemistry teacher to help at a newly formed boys' secondary school in Rongai, Kenya. Since my husband teaches chemistry, it seemed like a perfect fit.

So on May 31, 2006, our family embarked on a 10 week mission trip to Kenya.
We were in awe of the abundance of wildlife we saw.
Just look at the sheer delight on Lucia's face as she watches her favorite animals lumber past our safari van. We ALL had expressions similar to Lucia's. God's creation is delightful!
From the time I was a little girl, watching Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom, I have dreamed of going on an African safari. Thank you, Jesus, for giving me my heart's desire.
Next stop, Amagoro...
However, it is not a story about Noah's Ark, but in my book, it is nearly as miraculous.
It all began in the Fall of 2005, when we sold our rural home to move closer to the hub of activity in our beloved Alleluia Community.
We could not find a suitable home to buy, and we needed to vacate our home for the new owners. That's when we responded to a call for help from a dear priest friend in Kenya.
He was looking for a chemistry teacher to help at a newly formed boys' secondary school in Rongai, Kenya. Since my husband teaches chemistry, it seemed like a perfect fit.
So on May 31, 2006, our family embarked on a 10 week mission trip to Kenya.
We were in awe of the abundance of wildlife we saw.
Next stop, Amagoro...
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Ritalin Was Not Our Answer
Several years ago my second grader brought home a note from his teacher suggesting that we seek medical help for ADD/ADHD type behavior at school. We had contemplated a dye-free diet the previous year, since we had already observed this ourselves, but never acted on it. It seemed such a time consuming, tedious venture. Now, with the advent of the note, it was time to reconsider.
I was familiar with the diet known as The Feingold Diet since my baby brother had been on it when I was 13. My mom swore by it, and was convinced it was the answer to my brother's ADHD. So, my husband went to our child's teacher and asked her to give us a two week trial. He asked her to keep a tally of any type of inappropriate behavior in the classroom and send it home at the end of each week.
We implemented the Feingold Diet immediately for the whole family, however it took a little while for the effects to be noticed. When the first week came to an end, our child brought home a note with over 2 dozen tally marks. We grit our teeth, dug in our heels, and continued on into the second week. However, before Friday even arrived, the teacher contacted my husband and said, "What did you do? I can't believe this is the same child! Whatever you are doing, keep doing it!"
And we have been doing it now for seven years.
I have had several friends inquire about this diet in the past two weeks, so I decided to post this short testimony. It does take time and effort to learn which foods are permitted and which ones aren't, (there is more to it than just limiting dyes), but for our family it was definitely worth the effort. Not only did it keep our child (children) off medicine, but even more importantly, it kept our relationship with him in tact, since he could control his own behavior, and we didn't have to. Check it out for yourself at www.feingold.org.
I was familiar with the diet known as The Feingold Diet since my baby brother had been on it when I was 13. My mom swore by it, and was convinced it was the answer to my brother's ADHD. So, my husband went to our child's teacher and asked her to give us a two week trial. He asked her to keep a tally of any type of inappropriate behavior in the classroom and send it home at the end of each week.
We implemented the Feingold Diet immediately for the whole family, however it took a little while for the effects to be noticed. When the first week came to an end, our child brought home a note with over 2 dozen tally marks. We grit our teeth, dug in our heels, and continued on into the second week. However, before Friday even arrived, the teacher contacted my husband and said, "What did you do? I can't believe this is the same child! Whatever you are doing, keep doing it!"
And we have been doing it now for seven years.
I have had several friends inquire about this diet in the past two weeks, so I decided to post this short testimony. It does take time and effort to learn which foods are permitted and which ones aren't, (there is more to it than just limiting dyes), but for our family it was definitely worth the effort. Not only did it keep our child (children) off medicine, but even more importantly, it kept our relationship with him in tact, since he could control his own behavior, and we didn't have to. Check it out for yourself at www.feingold.org.
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
What's the Point?
I thought about calling my dad to tell him that his 13 year old granddaughter made a 3 point shot in basketball last night, and this is how my imaginary conversation went:
Me: Hey Dad, Ania shot a 3 pointer yesterday.
Him: What? That's great, another good aim in the family.
Me: Yeah, that's quite an achievement for 13. I never shot a 3 pointer in my life.
Him: You never shot an anything pointer in your life.
Me: Wait just a minute. I wasn't all that bad a shot.
Him: You just needed to practice more.
Me: Well that might be true.
Him: Well, I've never shot a 12 pointer in my life, so don't feel bad.
Me: A twelve pointer? What are you talking about?
Him: Deer! What are you talking about?
Hmmmm......I think I better go make that phone call.
Me: Hey Dad, Ania shot a 3 pointer yesterday.
Me: Yeah, that's quite an achievement for 13. I never shot a 3 pointer in my life.
Him: You never shot an anything pointer in your life.
Me: Wait just a minute. I wasn't all that bad a shot.
Him: You just needed to practice more.
Me: Well that might be true.
Him: Well, I've never shot a 12 pointer in my life, so don't feel bad.
Me: A twelve pointer? What are you talking about?
Him: Deer! What are you talking about?
Hmmmm......I think I better go make that phone call.
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Shape Up Twice for the Price
One of my new year's ambitions is to get back into shape. I wasn't in the greatest shape before my cancer treatments began, but the aftermath is not pretty. My muscles ache, I have put on a few pounds, and my energy level is still low. My doctor says this is normal, that nearly all the women he has treated have the same complaints, however, I don't have to resign myself to this for the rest of my life. Steps can be made to take back my body.
So, on a particularly rough day, when my students were more rowdy than usual, I texted my husband during a short break at school:
Me: What do you think about a treadmill?
Him: Where 2 put it?
Me: In the computer room minus the couch or the extra kids.
(I meant to say "extra desk" but apparently my mind was more frazzled than I realized).
He stopped by my classroom later (he is a high school teacher on campus) to ask me which of our kids I would consider "extra."
The very next day, my husband brought home a treadmill (that he found on Craig's List) while I was away visiting a sick friend. He pulled the couch out of the computer room, which displaced all the boxes full of "stuff" that had accumulated over the past year, hiding the couch from view. I came home to find the treadmill all set up and waiting for me on one side of the room, and a stack of boxes waiting to be sorted through on the other. Now begins the real work, getting things back into shape in more ways than one.
So, on a particularly rough day, when my students were more rowdy than usual, I texted my husband during a short break at school:
Me: What do you think about a treadmill?
Him: Where 2 put it?
Me: In the computer room minus the couch or the extra kids.
(I meant to say "extra desk" but apparently my mind was more frazzled than I realized).
He stopped by my classroom later (he is a high school teacher on campus) to ask me which of our kids I would consider "extra."
The very next day, my husband brought home a treadmill (that he found on Craig's List) while I was away visiting a sick friend. He pulled the couch out of the computer room, which displaced all the boxes full of "stuff" that had accumulated over the past year, hiding the couch from view. I came home to find the treadmill all set up and waiting for me on one side of the room, and a stack of boxes waiting to be sorted through on the other. Now begins the real work, getting things back into shape in more ways than one.
Friday, January 20, 2012
Genuine Gems
I am not a big jewelry person, so when I leaned over the counter in a jewelry shop one day last fall, eyeing the "mother's rings," my husband was quite surprised. We looked at several designs before leaving the shop empty-handed.
That was the last time I even gave this idea a second thought, although I secretly hoped my husband took my hint seriously.
What attracts me to these matronly rings? Maybe it is the fact that each birthstone represents a brand new soul whose very existence began as a miracle within me. Maybe it is the fact that each birthstone represents the greatest treasures entrusted to me and my husband while on this earth. Maybe it is the fact that each birthstone represents a priceless, precious child by whom I am proud to be called "Mama." Genuine gems to represent genuine gems.

You can imagine my surprise on Christmas morning, when I unwrapped my most favorite gift of all.
(In memory of all those who have suffered on this eve of the 39th anniversary of Roe v. Wade).
That was the last time I even gave this idea a second thought, although I secretly hoped my husband took my hint seriously.
What attracts me to these matronly rings? Maybe it is the fact that each birthstone represents a brand new soul whose very existence began as a miracle within me. Maybe it is the fact that each birthstone represents the greatest treasures entrusted to me and my husband while on this earth. Maybe it is the fact that each birthstone represents a priceless, precious child by whom I am proud to be called "Mama." Genuine gems to represent genuine gems.
You can imagine my surprise on Christmas morning, when I unwrapped my most favorite gift of all.
(In memory of all those who have suffered on this eve of the 39th anniversary of Roe v. Wade).
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Cancer, Chemo and God's Love
I had an appointment with my oncologist earlier this week; my 12 month check-up since finishing my chemotherapy treatments for stage 1, HER 2+ breast cancer. After checking in, I took my seat and looked around. The room was full of people, some patients with their hats covering their heads, and some their loved ones who came to sit with them during their treatment.
As I sat there I remembered that it was only a year ago that I was one of the ones wearing a hat, consumed with thoughts of doctor appointments and pharmacies, health insurance and side effects.
Cancer is scary. Treatment for cancer can be just as scary, if not more so. Coming to the decision of what type of treatment to take is agonizing. I went through a lumpectomy, 5 months of chemo along with 12 months of Herceptin through a port I had surgically implanted, and 6 weeks of radiation, which was what my doctor recommended. I had to take a year off from teaching due to sickness, nausea, and fatigue. I lost my hair. All this to lower my chances of recurrence from 40% to 10%.
I can't say that I would choose to go through this again, but I do have to point out that in my agony and suffering, God revealed Himself to me in a brand new way. I was in church, listening to the Gospel reading about the 99 sheep in the sheepfold, and the one lost sheep that the shepherd went back out to search for. I could see that I was the lost sheep, separated from the flock, and moving toward the edge of the cliff of despair. But since I had cried out to God, He came to me, hoisted me up on His shoulders, and carried me back.
I have never felt so loved and cared for by God. I have never felt so loved and cared for by my family and friends. I have never felt the power of prayer so strongly as I did during this past year. I feel like I must be one of God's favorites, for choosing me to get so close to Him. I am not the poor, little, lost sheep; rather I am the blessed, redeemed, found sheep!
At this point I am cancer-free. Thank you, Jesus. The doctors don't know if I am in the 10% who will have recurrence, or in the 90% who won't, because only a clean bill of health can reveal that one examination at a time. But I do know that I am 100% watched out for and cared for by God, and what could be a better prognosis than that?
As I sat there I remembered that it was only a year ago that I was one of the ones wearing a hat, consumed with thoughts of doctor appointments and pharmacies, health insurance and side effects.
Cancer is scary. Treatment for cancer can be just as scary, if not more so. Coming to the decision of what type of treatment to take is agonizing. I went through a lumpectomy, 5 months of chemo along with 12 months of Herceptin through a port I had surgically implanted, and 6 weeks of radiation, which was what my doctor recommended. I had to take a year off from teaching due to sickness, nausea, and fatigue. I lost my hair. All this to lower my chances of recurrence from 40% to 10%.
I can't say that I would choose to go through this again, but I do have to point out that in my agony and suffering, God revealed Himself to me in a brand new way. I was in church, listening to the Gospel reading about the 99 sheep in the sheepfold, and the one lost sheep that the shepherd went back out to search for. I could see that I was the lost sheep, separated from the flock, and moving toward the edge of the cliff of despair. But since I had cried out to God, He came to me, hoisted me up on His shoulders, and carried me back.
I have never felt so loved and cared for by God. I have never felt so loved and cared for by my family and friends. I have never felt the power of prayer so strongly as I did during this past year. I feel like I must be one of God's favorites, for choosing me to get so close to Him. I am not the poor, little, lost sheep; rather I am the blessed, redeemed, found sheep!
At this point I am cancer-free. Thank you, Jesus. The doctors don't know if I am in the 10% who will have recurrence, or in the 90% who won't, because only a clean bill of health can reveal that one examination at a time. But I do know that I am 100% watched out for and cared for by God, and what could be a better prognosis than that?
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