June 2, 2014 by cindigale

Consider the Lilies

Just after this morning’s rain, I bicycled in the countryside. The winds were gusting from the southwest, and the air was cool from the recent storm. Along one narrow road was a field of yellow blossoms, the colors in flux as the dividing clouds migrated easterly.

While I admired the sky and vivid land, a phrase came to mind — it is settled there still: Consider the lilies.

Matthew 6:28 “Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, 29 yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. 30 But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you?

33 But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you. 34 Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself.”

Today I am reminded that God is aware of my needs. He is aware of yours as well. We can let our anxieties be blown away by the winds, and not fret about how or when God will meet them. He will do it.

Consider the lilies.

May 28, 2014 by cindigale

More Alike Than Unalike

On this day of the revered Maya Angelou’s death, one of her vast quantity of quotes stands out. It commends my sentiments on good days, and cajoles me on days I lean toward divisiveness.

Within the quote, the word learn, is paramount. I must learn to search for common ground with people who differ from me. I must choose to do so, and do it repeatedly for it to become a habit. It must be a habit to ultimately embed itself in my nature.

“We can learn to see each other and see ourselves in each other and recognize that human beings are more alike than we are unalike.”

— Maya Angelou (April 4, 1928 – May 28, 2014)

May 22, 2014 by cindigale

Spring After The Drought

(Originally posted June 4, 2013.)

Where I live in middle America, there was a drought in 2012. Farmers were able to plant crops unusually early. Homeowners put in their gardens and planted flowers well before the mid May frost-free standard. Then little to no rain fell. By June we got excited when skies darkened. We went outdoors and watched approaching clouds, hopeful for a downpour.

But day after day, week after week, and month after month, those clouds were stingy. They rarely shared a drop. The local meteorologists explained that the atmosphere was so dry, the rain evaporated before it reached the ground. Temperatures rose—consecutive days in the mid to upper 90’s.

Crops withered in the fields. The parched earth contracted, causing ever-widening cracks. Lawns went dormant and crunched underfoot. Even well-established trees and bushes dropped leaves.

By fall, an unwanted record was broken: we were in the worst drought in half a century.

Lower than normal snowfall in the winter extended the drought well into 2013. I expected dead bushes and a spotty lawn this spring. I planned to pull out the shovel and the grass seed. But I never had to do either. The pictures are my witness.

We got rain. More than enough rain!

Today, the wisteria is bursting with blooms, the two weigela bushes have a bumper crop of crimson flowers, and the clematis is heavy with buds. The pachysandra ground cover that appeared dead just a month ago, not only survived but is spreading. The grass recovered fully on its own. I had lilacs on bushes that I didn’t even know were lilacs.

Horticulturists, botanists, or agronomists could explain all this to me. All I know is, this burst of beauty was not what I expected. Why did those plants flourish after the extreme heat and prolonged drought of the past year? So much for logic.

Experience has convinced me that the same thing can happen to people. Drought happens. Some of us get hit with an extraordinary amount of it. Some suffer for a long, long time. It seems impossible that our drought will ever end.

And then one day it starts to rain. It’s just a light shower that really isn’t enough. It’s a tease, too imperceptible to satiate bone-dry soil; there’s still a major moisture deficit. But more showers come, heavier and with more frequency. Soil that was parched and unable to support plants just weeks before becomes saturated.

Shockingly fast, the drought is over. It’s a new day and a new spring, and we’re not merely living, we’re thriving. Life is unexpectedly bountiful! So much for logic.

Romans 5:7 Be patient, then, brothers and sisters, until the Lord’s coming.

See how the farmer waits for the land to yield its valuable crop, patiently waiting for the autumn and spring rains.

8 You too, be patient and stand firm, because the Lord’s coming is near.

May 19, 2014 by cindigale

To Uphold

When you are fearful, remember Isaiah 41:10, contemplate the meaning of “uphold”, and absorb its inspiriting synonyms:

uphold

verb: maintain, support

advocate, confirm, defend, encourage, endorse, hold to, justify, promote, side with, stand by, vindicate, aid, assist, back, bolster, boost, brace, buttress, carry, champion, countenance, elevate, help, hoist, prop, raise, rear, second, sustain, uplift, upraise, back up, buoy up, hold up, pick up, shore up, stick by, stick up, take up, upbear, uprear

If you’re still afraid, consider these antonyms of “uphold” and be assured of what God will never do to you:

attack, deny, oppose, protest, abandon, decrease, depress, destroy, discourage, drop, fall, halt, hinder, hurt, injure, lessen, lower, neglect, obstruct, prevent, stop, undermine, weaken

Don’t be afraid, my friend. Trust God to uphold you.

May 14, 2014 by cindigale

Spread the Love, End the Stigma

Nicky Gant is a fellow writer, blogger, and friend. She recently published this article on mental health awareness and suicide prevention for the QC Mom’s Blog. Thank you, Nicky, for allowing me to share this thorough, helpful, and compassionate resource.

http://www.quadcitymomsblog.com/2014/05/14/bubbles-of-hope/

Like many moms of small children, I tend to live in a bubble. I’m usually running between little league, the YMCA and preschool – everywhere I look, I see happy little people with promising futures.

But the truth is, my bubble burst a long time ago.

If it hadn’t, perhaps my heart wouldn’t have hurt quite so bad when I learned about the string of local teen suicides, which experts have described as an epidemic in Scott County. Perhaps it would have seemed like a distant problem, something that can only happen to other families.

Though thankfully, my loved one who attempted suicide as a teenager survived, he resisted treatment for his mental illness and went on to live out the devastating, all-too common effects of his condition. Witnessing the pain he’s endured has been heartbreaking and life changing to say the least.

So when I hear about kids committing suicide, it hits close to home. I wonder how many promising young people in our community are suffering in silence, contemplating suicide, self-medicating with harmful substances or making poor choices, which will impact the long-term trajectory of their lives, due to an underlying mental health condition.

According to the National Alliance on Mental Illness:

Of children ages 9 to 17, 21 percent have a diagnosable mental or addictive disorder that causes at least minimal impairment;
suicide is the 2nd leading cause of death in youth aged 12-17;
90% of those who died by suicide had an underlying mental illness;
50% of lifetime mental illnesses begin by age 14; and
currently **only 20 percent** of children with mental disorders receive mental health services.

These statistics make me wonder … in our close-knit community, do any of us really live in a bubble, isolated from the pain of mental illness anymore?

Fortunately, there is a lot we can ALL do to help raise awareness and generate more positive outcomes for those who are suffering.

1. Spread hope

According to NAMI, modern treatment is 70-90 percent effective, and kids with mental illness can absolutely go on to live positive, productive lives.

2. Focus on early identification

As hard as it is to think about, we should all keep an eye out for potential symptoms in our loved ones.

According to NAMI, suicide warning signs include:

Talking about hopelessness, worthlessness, being a burden to others, feeling trapped or having no reason to live.
Having no motivation or losing interest in activities once enjoyed.
Withdrawing or feeling isolated.
Sudden change in personality or behaviors.
Giving away possessions, behaving recklessly.
Talking about death or not being here tomorrow. Looking for ways to kill oneself such as searching online or buying a gun.

Mental illness warning signs (determined by NAMI) include:

A sudden or persistent drop in school performance.
Persistently aggressive behavior.
Threats to self or others.
Substantial mood swings.
Hallucinations, paranoia or delusions.
Acting very withdrawn, sad or overly anxious.
Extreme difficulty interacting with friends and/or siblings.
Extreme changes in sleeping and eating patterns.
Increased or persistent use of alcohol or drugs.

3. Stop the stigma

Unfortunately, harmful misperceptions (such as associating mental illness with weakness) persist in our society, adding a layer of shame to already-suffering individuals, along with causing many to resist seeking help.

We need to spread the truth that mental illness is like any other medical condition, which requires treatment – it’s that simple.

4. Support efforts to reduce bullying

Research indicates that kids who are bullied face an increased risk of developing emotional problems.

Family and friends of one of our local suicide victims created Make a Change, the Alice Schmidt Movement to raise awareness and find solutions.

Care QC is a local organization, created to help put a stop to bullying as well.

As parents, we can serve on the PTA to make sure our schools are implementing the best possible anti-bullying programs, and we can teach our own children the importance of empathy.

5. Don’t judge, try to understand

Without treatment, the consequences of mental illness are frequently looked down upon in our society.

In addition to having a 50% chance of dropping out of high school, our mentally ill youth are likely to face long-term effects such as disability, unemployment, substance abuse, homelessness and incarceration. In fact, 65% of boys and 75% of girls in juvenile detention facilities have an underlying mental illness, which is not being treated.

If we begin to collectively have more compassion for underlying causes of these problems, we can help more kids receive the treatment they need before they become adults, who are lost in the system.

6. Reach out and connect

Never underestimate the power of extending yourself to those affected by mental illness.

I will never forget the note I received from a high school classmate, who thanked me for expressing condolences to her after hearing that her brother committed suicide. She said it meant a lot to her because most people pretended like it didn’t happen, which added to her pain.

Even if we are uncomfortable, doing our best to reach out and express concern can help reduce the ripple effect of isolation caused by mental illness. We have the power to make a difference, just by showing we care.

7. Seek help, utilize community resources

If you are concerned about your child, start by getting a referral for psychiatric care from a pediatrician, and be sure to work closely with your school counselor.

If you don’t have insurance, please keep hope, and be aware that services may be available through United Way-funded programs, such as Family Resources, Vera French, the Martin Luther King Jr. Community Center, the Center for Youth and Family Solutions, Youth Service Bureau of Rock Island County, and Bethany for Children and Families. You can also reach out to faith communities for help.

Free support and information is available online at the NAMI Child and Adolescent Action Center; The national suicide prevention hotline is a great resource as well.

Don’t give up on your quest to receive adequate care for your child, but don’t blame yourself if they refuse treatment; there are many reasons for this. All you can do is your best, and don’t forget to take care of yourself too.

8. Focus on mental health

Though we may not be able to prevent mental illness, Mayo Clinic research indicates that the effectiveness of treatment can be maximized by getting enough sleep, eating healthy foods, exercising and incorporating stress reduction techniques into daily life.

9. Educate your kids

It can be hard to talk about, but we need to empower our kids with information about suicide, mental illness and bullying, so they realize the importance of reaching out for help and identifying symptoms in their peers.

To be honest, this article was hard for me to write. A part of me wants to live in a bubble … it’s painful to think about all the great kids who are suffering, not receiving the help they need. I don’t want to burst anyone’s bubble, but I’ve seen how mental illness can shake a strong family unit to its core, and I feel a responsibility to spread awareness.

I hope this article can help reduce the stigma associated with mental illness and most importantly increase hope, so we can identify more kids at the crucial choice point in their lives, when receiving treatment can most effectively put them on track to reach their full potential.

How has mental illness affected your life? Sharing your story is a great way to help others feel less alone. Do you know of additional community resources for struggling teens?

Source: www.nami.org

About Nicky

Nicky is an on-the-go mom of three spirited boys aged 7, 5 and 1. She’s grateful to be married to her down-to-earth rock of a husband Larry, who supports her in taking care of the kids full time. She likes to look under the surface to the heart of what really matters in life and is passionate about the powerful role mothers play in families and communities. She’s a firm believer that through God, all things are possible and is looking for ways to make a positive impact on others, while putting her family first. She loves reading, nature and living a simple, centered life and blogs about faith here.

View all posts by Nicky →

hope for kids with mental illness, mental health awareness, stop the stigma of mental illness, suicide epidemic scott county, suicide prevention

May 13, 2014 by cindigale

Don’t Have To Be Them

Should you ever find yourself the victim of other people’s bitterness, smallness, or insecurities,

remember it could be worse …

You could be them.

This quote is making the rounds on Facebook. Coincidentally, a chapter of my current read, The Brothers K, elucidated the same point.

Though I thought myself a baseball non-enthusiast, author David James Duncan has made me care about what matters to the Chance family—that makes baseball paramount. Papa Chance once played professionally. To the lustful coaches at the Chance kids’ high school, his four sons are viewed as a steady supply of potential star players for their teams.

Oldest brother Everett has already graduated. “He made up in desire what he lacked in ability,” is the best the coaches can say about Everett —they’ve already forgotten his name and call him Herbert. Currently excelling at the varsity level are the next two Chances, Pete and Irwin (Winnie).

I am smitten with the wise words of the youngest of the Chance boys, the bespectacled Kade:

To reach the crappy little ballfield where we JV B-teamers went about the blooper-riddled chaos which we, with the crazed optimism of young Zen students, also called “practice,” you had first to traverse the football field and the quarter-mile cinder oval where the track team worked out, then skirt the varsity baseball team’s posh diamond. So every day, if I dawdled along slowly enough, I got to sneak a look both at Irwin—the new Washington State prep record-holder in the javelin—and at Peter—the two-time All-State center fielder—before slinking off to my Sorry-State career as a B-grade first baseman.

Like all earthly pleasures, though, dawdling had its price: those wide-open, grassy expanses were, for me at least, a psychological minefield. The “mines” were a number of adult American males, all of whom happily barked in reply to the name “Coach.” The “explosions” were caused by the coaches’ unending readiness to ignore the “Comparisons Are Odious” adage. It was my being one of the family Chance brothers that brought on the comparisons. And it was my athletic abilities that made them odious.

That I wasn’t ashamed of my baseball prowesslessness is, I think, eloquent testimony to the noble character of my family. I was close to spastic on a ballfield, and they all knew it, but with Papa’s eternal minor-leaguing setting the cautionary example, my family had become as athletically tolerant as Babcock (the dogmatic pastor of their mother’s church) was intolerant.

“Who’s that sorry little tortoise?” the varsity track coach, Bobby Edson, bawled into the face of the JV A-team baseball coach on April 20, 1966—a date I remember perfectly because (1) it was Hitler’s birthday and (2) it was the day I hung up my mitt, cap and cleats forever. Bobby Edson, like most coaches, was a kind of mystic: he believed the cosmos was endowed with an ineffable muffling system that rendered all the racist, sexist, tasteless, and denigrating remarks made by coaches inaudible to the students about whom they bellowed them.

“”That there, believe it or not,” bawled the JV skipper (another muffler mystic), “is the youngest Chance brother.”

“Naw!” Edson blored. “I mean that fat kid, with the goggles. The one gapin’ at my Winnie tossin’ his javelin out there.”

“Yup. That’s Toe’s youngest. Katie, they call ‘im. Appropriate too, I hear.”

“Think he might firm up any?” Edson wondered. “Wasn’t Winnie kind of a chunk at that age?”

I felt their eyes on my back now, probing my bike tires, X-raying my infrastructure, analyzing my aura for signs of “Late Bloomer” potential. “Nope,” the JV CAT-scanner finally sighed. “Winnie’s a rock. Always has been. Damn nice kid’s the rap on Katie there. But no speed, no suds, no arm, no nuthin’.”

……. The three coaches called Kade over and tossed around blithering insults, not-so-subtle sexual innuendos, and general idiocy. Kade stood under the banal barrage of degradation, bound to politeness and submission to authority figures, and tried to hide the slow incineration of his face.

And now the best part, the thing I want to share today: Kade’s moment of awakening, an enlightenment possible for us, too ……

Then a wonderful thing happened: for maybe five full seconds the coaches went dead, and the day grew not perfect, nor still, but still enough to hear perfectly the singing of a thousand red-winged blackbirds in the swamp beyond our diamonds—a choir, tremendous, convening there daily, their ecstasy reduced to white noise by our first catch or throw—till this moment: the coaches’ decommissioning: a word … and their song came raining out of the cottonwoods, innocent, joyous, pouring over anyone willing to listen. The rush of understanding was too quick and condensed and physical to call a “thought”: I simply knew, via song, sunlight, redwings and cottonwoods, that there was a world I was born to live in, that the men I was standing beside lived in another, and that as long as I remembered this their words would never hurt me again. I knew—the redwings were all telling me—that there was ancient ground here, and ancient songs, and that if I laid my mitt, cleats, and uniform aside I could stand on that ground, and maybe learn to sing on it too . . .

I felt free to like all three of these men now, because I’d realized I didn’t have to become them. I was standing right next to a world in which Everett was Herbert, blacks were Jabooms, Pete and Irwin were heroes, and I was a no speed, no suds, no arm nuthin’. But I was not standing in it. Some simple shift inside me had turned their words into the harmless white noise, and the blackbirds’ singing into the heart of my day.

Ospreys eat fish. Deer eat foliage. Switch their diets and they’ll die.

I gave my first unguardedly friendly nod ever to each coach, told them I had to go, walked back to the locker room, took off my baseball uniform, put on my street clothes, and set out unencumbered into the singing, the cottonwoods, the entire spring day.

(Excerpts from The Brothers K, by David James Duncan)

My hero, Kade Chance, said it with eloquence. Boiled down to a simple, freeing truth …

You Don’t Have To Be Them.

May 12, 2014 by cindigale

Sustainable Dreams

Thus I learned one of the hard lessons of life: the best way to strip the allure and dreaminess from a lifelong dream is, very often, simply to have it come true.

David James Duncan, The Brothers K

Most of us have experienced it. We fully invested in a dream only to discover in its fulfillment, that is was much, much less than we imagined.

In The Brothers K, Kincaid Chance and his siblings longed for the resurrection of their father’s pro baseball career. They spent most of their childhoods pining for it, imagining, playacting its manifestation, certain it was the answer to their family’s idiosyncrasies and dysfunctions. Once it happened, they discovered the glory of the dream quickly wore off.

To avoid wasting years nurturing unsustainable dreams, ask God to put his dreams within you. The dreams and ambitions that arise from him come from a source that is infinite, and cause you to take action toward sustainable purposes.

Philippians 2:13. For it is God who works in you to will and to act in order to fulfill his good purpose.

May 6, 2014 by cindigale

Simply Listening

Some readers of Threadbare have wondered about my political stances. Others want to know my religious doctrine. My answer? Though I know society needs advocates for righteous law enactment, I don’t belong in that arena. To be honest, the ceaseless debating is white noise to me.

I’m more suited to mingling with people on the front lines of daily life. I prefer to listen to personal stories. It challenges me; it exposes my weaknesses. I discover I need more wisdom. I need improved perceptual skills to notice when somebody is hurting. I need ongoing, specific guidance from God to navigate the complex terrain of humanity.

I’m perpetually scouting for role models who can show me what noble character and exemplary behavior look like. My admiration is greatest for the person who doesn’t just discuss human rights, but who quietly helps people that others ignore. My hero is the kid who steps forward to confront bullies, who risks his or her own peer standing to defend the underdog. I adore people who are alert to the marginalized, and who regularly practice inclusion.

I can learn from others. I gain understanding by turning off my noisy internal judgments, prejudices, selfishness, or insecurities. And simply listen.

May 5, 2014 by cindigale

Looking Forward

“For because of our faith, he has brought us into this place of highest privilege where we now stand, and we confidently and joyfully look forward to actually becoming all that God has had in mind for us to be.” Romans 5:2 (Living Bible, TLB)

This verse in the Living Bible translation points us to a joyful future, a time of becoming who God originally meant us to be. Imagine what might have been if God alone had raised each of us since birth. Who would we be today?

Instead, each of us were shaped by the people, cultures, and environments we were born into.

As vulnerable humans in a blustery world, it is no surprise we gradually morphed from the person God intended. We developed impaired habits. We wore useless grooves into our characters by our own unmitigated behaviors and misguided thinking.

To put it bluntly, we are marred. Bruised. Trampled. Withered.

The good news is, we’re not beyond repair. If we want him to, God will carefully restore us to our starting points. We can have spring all over again. Looking forward, he’ll stay with us through every season of our lives thereafter.

He will personally oversee our steady development to make us overcomers. Victors. Conquerors. Champions.

Though our newborn days passed long ago, God offers to “re-raise” us. If we let him, we can experience the unparalleled privilege of starting anew, confidently and joyfully looking forward to actually becoming all that he has had in mind for us to be.

May this spring be one you savor.

April 28, 2014 by cindigale

Growing Pains

While perusing my files this morning, I noticed a dated exchange of emails with a friend. At the time, he was traveling in South America, which sparked a memory of one of my travels. My true tale included quantifiable experiences (actual, earthly, physical—whatever you want to call it) and intangible experiences, too (spiritual, divine, and incomprehensible). A humorous misunderstanding followed when my friend assumed that my story was cut and pasted from a novel. When I clarified that the incident happened to me, and I’d written it, he suggested I write a book.

That’s the back story—this was my email response:

“My Mom has said many times that I should write a book about the strange things that have happened to me. But I rarely tell people about them because they must seem like fiction. Many things people just can’t relate to. I used to think God was making me be a freak with so many uncommon and inexplicable experiences. I didn’t want that. I just wanted to fit in. Now my goal is to be a freak. I’m kidding! No, now I realize I don’t have to tell anybody I don’t want to. Why invite criticism and misunderstanding unnecessarily? I’ve learned that keeping my secrets to myself allows me to pull off some semblance of normalcy. 🙂

Also, it’s not bad being “abnormal” after-all. Mainstream life has not proven to be enviable or worth aspiring to. I finally get it—His ways are not our ways. Follow Him and you get His ways. It makes you a minority, sometimes even an oddity, but the reward of life with Him compared to life thinking and living to fit in… There’s no comparison! Life before was only vaguely living, inside of captivity. Like being in a zoo must be for wild animals. Life now, with an awareness of the Holy Spirit, is unpredictable, always in my best interest, full of His power and presence, and always free of cages and captivity. I may have been lovingly pushed by God into this spiritual life, but now I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

I share this old email today, for anyone who is having growing pains from going “all in” with God. You’re not a misfit, you’re just in the process of adapting. If you’re stunned by unsolicited, indescribable experiences (that you somehow know are from God), be assured that it happens to others as well. You’re not alone.

You’ve been entrusted with sublime, divine experiences. Don’t squander them. Intentionally treasure them, protect them, and respect them for what they are and who they came from. You weren’t “tapped” because you’re superior to anyone. You were “tapped” because you are capable of serving others. You are to serve, not be served. Your phenomenal experiences and spiritual gifts enhance your ability to help others. Have patience. Follow Him, listen, and learn so that when the time is right, you are able to handle yourself with authentic humility and great wisdom.

Isaiah 55:8-9

New International Version (NIV)

8 “For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
    neither are your ways my ways,”
declares the Lord.
9 “As the heavens are higher than the earth,
    so are my ways higher than your ways
    and my thoughts than your thoughts.

Cindi Gale

To every thing there is a season ~

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