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My Overthinking

Philly Area mom, Life forever changed by adoption

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The day my husband quit his job {reflections 5 years later}

10.22.18

We got a package. Bound neatly and nicely inside were letters written by a few of the people who spent 2 years or more teaching across the world under Mark’s leadership. It’s been 5 years doing all this—equipping, leading, and sending teachers to the front lines while also caring for foster and adoptive families here in the states. Is it weird to say that these notes feel kinda like medals around our necks? It’s not like the race is over by any means. But, right now, especially given policies that have turned things upside down and some big added responsibility, it just feels good to together say we’ve made it this far and to take a moment to look back and reflect on how it started.

Just over 5 years ago, I wrote some words about that start, the day after Mark quit his job. In honor of making it this far in the race, I’m sharing those words here for you, not to get any praise and accolades but so we can all smile and give thanks for that clear calling then and for Him continuing to call.


 

He put on an ironed shirt this morning, nice slacks, belt, and shoes. He kissed me goodbye and said, “Have a good day” just like he did yesterday and everyday last week and nearly every morning for the last 15 years of our marriage.

But, today was different. There was a spring in his step and an extra spark in his kiss because today was not like yesterday or the days before. Yesterday, he quit.

When he told his boss he was leaving, his boss wanted to play the game, give him a counter offer, encourage him to stay. When Mark told him he wasn’t headed over to a competitor but leaving the financial industry entirely, I think he left him a bit dumbfounded.

Leaving the industry. The one he’s worked in for 18 years.

Mark explained the work, his role specifically, how he’s been called to it. He told him how he’s been raising support so that we could do this. We thought he’d think we were crazy. Instead, he told Mark he was jealous; Mark will be doing something his heart is full in. It’s what everyone wants deep down, above wealth, benefits, prestige and all that comes with all three of those. Everyone wants to do something they love; maybe life too often gets in the way.

Just like that, Mark left that conference room, and everything was different. We knew his days there were numbered, but we didn’t know that number until now. He had imagined what that conversation would be like, played it over in his head. Now, the imagined is simply history, a day that we’ll remember that marks when we put a stake in the ground and said, “This is where we are meant to go, and we’re going.”

He’ll end well over the next two weeks, still putting on an ironed shirt and slacks and kissing me goodbye each morning, making sure things that need to be covered are covered, putting closure on all he can. But, at the end of those two weeks, he’ll close up a cardboard box with the few personal affects that made a sterile desk and chair his workplace, and he’ll drive home one last time for us to start a whole new part of our lives, one He’s been preparing us for all along.


I think I just heard the pistol shoot for the start of the next 5 years.

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Posted by Kelly the Overthinker
Filed Under: posts I can't really tag

Swooning for China

10.2.18

It’s a whole lot of the pictures in my head catologued under the month of May for the last number of years.

Singing and laughter.
Asking questions in the classroom. Asking more questions outside the classroom.
Exciting adventures of things we have done before with people who have not, making all things all new again.
Stretching and being stretched.
So. Many. Pictures.
Arm in arm and hand in hand.
Peace signs that aren’t peace signs.
Chicken dances and hokey pokeys.
Hot milk tea.
Lots of hot milk tea.
And, opportunities for good.

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Posted by Kelly the Overthinker
Filed Under: China

You’re a teenager {a letter to a friend on her 13th birthday}

7.17.18

She’s so intentional. It’s one of the things I love about her. On the occasion of her eldest’s 13th birthday, she asked for a super meaningful gift–words. She asked us to be intentional too and for us to share our words of wisdom, advice, encouragement, etc. with her little girl who is not so little anymore.

With her permission, here are the words I humbly gave to her.


It’s a big day. Maybe you don’t feel all that different than you did yesterday, but it’s still a big day. It’s official—you’re a teenager. No longer are you a “little girl.” Your parents have poured into you for years with a forward vision, intentionally guiding you and correcting you and loving you so that you can be the best you on those days and all your days. But, now, more than ever before, you are going to be learning what it means to be a strong and beautiful woman.

There is no shortage of messages proclaiming what being a strong and beautiful woman means, messages about equality and your rights and what defines attractive and what makes you valuable, messages about how to relate to men, who you should and should not be a fan of, what matters in life. We are all message makers, whether we want to be and try to be or not. And, our world is full of all different messages that tell us how we should understand ourselves and the world around us.

As a woman a little bit ahead of you, whose grey hair has earned me the right to share what I see as wisdom, I challenge you as you start this new season of life to carefully consider what messages you tune into. Whatever you are doing—alone or with people, in person or on your phone, looking in a mirror or looking into someone else’s eyes, carefully consider what messages you are hearing in your head that are telling you what to do and what to think. Ask yourself if what you are hearing is truly True. If you decide because of what you know already that it is not, then tell yourself so, and tell yourself a different message, a “You know that’s not truly True. Don’t go there. This is what’s truly True…” If you decide it is truly True, then nod your head and tell yourself so with a “That’s right. Keep on going.” If you consider what you are listening to and aren’t sure if it’s truly True or not, that’s okay because you’re still learning. Don’t be too shy to talk to your mom or dad and ask what they think. It’s their job to help you figure these things out, and they really like their job because they really love you.

It’s not easy being a teenager. It’s a lot of work to figure out who you are and who you want to be. And, it’s not easy to consider what messages you are listening to and discern what’s truly True. But, I don’t doubt for a second that you can do it and do it well because you not only have really good parents but you have the help of the One who is the expert message maker and who is the author of the truly True. It’s His job to be with you all the time, even when your mom and dad aren’t, and He really loves His job because He really loves you more than you could ever imagine.

I can’t wait to watch you figure out what being a strong and beautiful teenager means and grow to become a strong and beautiful woman who earns the right to speak a few things to me because I’m still learning too.

Humbly,
Genuinely,
Warmly,
Kelly


Head over HERE to read the words her mama gifted to her.

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Posted by Kelly the Overthinker
Filed Under: Letters

1 lightbulb + other lightbulbs = Sweet Louie

6.11.18

I remember when the lightbulb flickered on for me…you know, that moment that I found myself thinking, “wouldn’t that be neat?” I was sitting in a full auditorium, half listening to a presentation on stage as I was rehearsing in my mind the session I was teaching an hour or two later. At some point, my half listening became a bit more than that until I was fully engaged. Someone from a neat little place called Little Springs Farm was sharing about equine assisted therapy, and a few parents shared some stories about how their son was growing in being able to give and receive affection because of the therapy and how their daughter experienced success through her relationship with the horse and was starting to grow in other relationships. And, everything in me perked up. It was no surprise that this work was effective really; it made sense. Talking about emotions a child has worked hard to bottle up—intentionally or subconsciously—is hard. But, if you pair that same talking with petting, grooming, caring for a horse, it can be made easier. The focus no longer is solely on the child. Sensory needs are being met. Simply the repetitive physical motion of petting or brushing can stimulate the brain and make processing easier. And, kids are given the safe opportunity to be successful with gentle connection, an experience that a therapist and parents can magnify and help a child transfer to other relationships. Lightbulb on. I wanted that for the work I do with kids and parents. I mean, wouldn’t that be cool? I had heard of organizations dedicated to raising and training dogs as service dogs to help people with all sorts of challenges. Could one of those dogs join me and help our families? Maybe one day. Who knows.

I had grown up with dogs, had considered getting a dog on and off throughout our nearly 20 years of marriage. But, when we were growing our family both biologically and through adoption, those kids kinda took all I had to give. Two rescue cats filled our companionship tanks for the time, and that was good. We loved them well. And, while an argument could be made that cats don’t know how to love, I could convince you that ours did…well, at least one of them did. Mojo was our son Evan’s best friend; she made his days easier. She followed him around the house, sat on his lap during meals, slept by his side every night. As she got older and older, we tried to start preparing him that she wouldn’t be here forever. But, none of us were prepared for how hard it would be when she took a quick decline a year and a half ago at age 18 and died in his arms. We marveled at our son’s ability to care for her and have never been so proud of him. We had always noticed how he connected well with animals, how they brought out something in him we didn’t often see otherwise. But, watching him care for his best friend over the last 48 hours of her life was nothing short of remarkable. My sweet boy persevered and gave his best friend exactly what she needed.

After she and our other (arguably not-so-loving cat) both passed, we wrestled with what we should do next, we brought in two sweet kitties who we adore, but I was reminded of that light-bulb moment a few years ago. At the risk of sounding a little crazy, I dared to mention it to a couple people who made the light shine a little brighter and then a little brighter still until I did something crazier still and sent in an application to a few service dog training organizations. I talked about the foster and adoptive families I work with. I told them about how I cool it would be to have a dog as a co-therapist, not simply present but involved in the work I’m already doing, enhancing it. There was interest from some places, some interest from one that went so far as interviews and visits and other hoops to jump through only to end with them saying they would have to change their training protocol to create something new and entirely innovative and they didn’t have it in them to do that. And, then I found a little team of people and their little team of dogs at a place called Paws & Affection.

On January 22nd, their directors and I talked on the phone. They wanted to talk before I filled out any application. That was new. They wanted to hear about what I do and what I wanted to do. They asked lots of questions. I did too. We started to become friends—three women who all could be called crazy for doing whatever it takes to do what they feel called to do. And, then they said, “we think we may have a dog for you.” There was a process of course. It wasn’t that simple, and I’m glad it wasn’t because the process matters. There were calls and visits and letters and other things. Then, on March 13th, our family visited their facility and met their pups and all made a unanimous decision that they did have a dog for us and we were who they had been working so hard for.

Louie had joined them as an itty bitty with his littermate Maggie. They lived with different families and attended school everyday at Paws & Affection where the team worked hard to prepare them for serving children in one way or another. At some point along the way, Laura and Susie at Paws & Affection had their own light-bulb moment. Maggie would be a medical service dog, and Louie would be something else. He had so much to offer but showed some anxiety in loud, indoor, public situations. Given his smarts and his sweet, lovey-ness, they believed he’d make a great facility dog to work therapeutically with kids. They didn’t know where, but they trusted it would become clear before they wanted to place him before he was 2.

With my lightbulb and theirs now on high, we got to work together—Laura, Susie, me…and Louie. Every Monday and Friday afternoon was spent together, training Louie and training me, with them giving us intentional bonding activities to make us better partners, and them magnifying all the good that I could find between us. I practiced cues for skills so often that I found myself wanting to ask my children for “long down stays” and mark their good decisions with a “Yes!” I found myself looking forward to those training sessions at the start and end of my weeks because I’m not too embarrassed to say that it felt a little therapeutic for me.

The training isn’t over, but now the really fun stuff begins because after weeks and weeks and hours and hours of training, Louie has officially moved in as of Friday, and Project Puppy Love has begun. He’s here and chewing up (aka destroying) all the toys I bought for him. (How can such a sweet, lovey teddy bear be called an aggressive chewer???) I forgive him though; one cuddle and an apology (his eyebrows say he’s sorry, I swear) reconciles us fast. He’s pretty remarkable, ya’ll, with all his expressions of feeling words and cuddles when someone needs it…and just because he’s Louie.

 

He has his first real session with a family tomorrow. I’ve tried to tell him so, but I guess I just have to trust that he’s as ready as he needs to be for now because I don’t think he knows what I was saying. But, I think he’ll get it. And, I think they’re going to love him.


Louie has a voice on Instagram. Check it out. Have your kids check it out.

@ProjectPuppyLove

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Posted by Kelly the Overthinker
Filed Under: canine assisted therapy

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