A Conglomeration Once Again

All adoptive parents needs to read The Adoption Counselor's Behavorial Time Bombs. The brain scans of 3 year olds show that some children have brains which are basically behavioural time bombs – in other words, they show which children will grow up to have sociopath or psychotic tendencies.

Some of my most challenging children came to me at a very young age, which now that I think back about it, well, duh, it makes sense, as the studies I'd read on some older children had enough severe indicators to then make me move on. She'd written this post a few days ago and I've thought of little ever since.

Dee's thoughtful post on religion spoke to me also, I am the opposite of her in that I go to a more rowdy church and love it, not finding solace at all in the church of my youth. Today's devotional put my thoughts into proper perspective, as it always does. Oswald Chambers makes me think deeply.

I'd confiscated a water bottle from one of my teenage sons in early service yesterday, during praise and worship, and went out of the sanctuary to dump it out, running headfirst into the now Dr. David Cooper, getting a bear hug, and a wonderful sermon about shaking the dust off one's feet. 30 years later, I'm still crazy about this guy. His annointing is incredible.

This one guy, my pastor during my very impressionable 1980s spiritually seeking years, inspired me greatly into the adoption journey I now find myself at the end of, in that I do see the light at the end of the tunnel.

"If it weren't for him," I'd admonished my water guzzler, "You sure as heck wouldn't even be standing here. I have no clue where you'd have ended up." I was almost always the only person who'd submitted a home study on any sibling group of mine.



When he'd finished preaching, Marcela turned to me in surprise, "It's over already?" I glanced at my watch, yep, time had flown. Her daughter, Marissa, had been pooching out her lips and acting up, reminding me totally of Marcela nearly 25 years ago during her first few days in church when she was a kindergartner, a non Englishing speaking, newly adopted wild child.

I was then so guileless, so naive, so untested, and absolutely full of hope and courage.

My eyes teared up the minute David took the stage.

"Mom, he hasn't even started yet," Marcela had glanced at me.

"He just reminds me of my old self," I whispered, remembering my complete passionate and unbridled excitement back then, my I-can-conquer-the-world attitude that has kept me going for so long, no matter how frayed and beaten down I've become.

I'm still jacked up, still standing, still careening ahead each day.

Our pastor for the last seven years is a wonderful man as well, Pastor Tony, and I look forward to Sunday services, Sarah's referred to him as her David, the David Cooper of her generation. Her generation that gave us Ipods which allow me to podcast my older generation and listen at will.

Tuesday is the adoption anniversary of my last group of children, six years that've totally flown by, Sabrina's been asking me to cook Shrimp Creole for the celebration. Her siblings have been a joy to parent, only one with any diagnosed behavioral problems, and he's not been that difficult, not considering what I've gone through over the last 25 years.

The next 25 years will find me out back gardening my heart out. I'd forgotten how crazy I am about the show, Jamie Durie Outdoor Rooms, remembering to DVR one yesterday, watching in complete awe. The guy's a creative genius.

A friend of mine recently remarked on how often I mention David Cooper in my blog, me also reminding myself of Dave Ramsey's numerous calling out here, these influential folks have transformed my thinking in these areas, as have many garden gurus, and motivational authors like Denis Waitely, Norman Vincent Peale or Tony Robbins and many more.

I'm just a conglomeration of everyone else's thoughts, but aren't we all?

Phyllis asked me about permaculture, and it's simply garden beds that are never tilled, never stepped on, ideally the beds should be about four feet wide, so as to be accessible from either side, but dorks like me don't measure and are fortunately built like orangutans with long enough reaches to swing from vine to tree, or reach into wide garden beds. Earthworms plow from within, the decomposition process working naturally.

My garden beds get mulched, have compost, manure, leaves, and woodchips added as often as possible, creating a fertile loamy soil that's very productive.

To me, it's an easier way to garden, one that makes total sense, and has served me well for more 'n 30 years of gardening in this manner, having row cropped the previous years and subsequently been much less successful.

My paths are permanent, I used to use mowed grass paths but over the years have added stones and pavers, I've certainly kept adding beds.

I'm constantly asked about vegetarian recipes, I'd refer folks to Sarah's writings, or heck just google it, but today's Meatless Monday slide show piqued my interest.