faith

Losing My Religion. And Tacos.

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I found a new writer who pretty much describes the transition I’ve been in for, oh, the past 20 years. Her name is Elizabeth Baker and she writes about her move from Evangelical Christianity to Progressive Christianity in places like HuffPo, her own blog at ElizabethBaker.com, Scary Mommy and more. Call it the wanna be Evangelical in me, but I’m still a bit uncomfortable with some of her word choices (ex: Why People Think Christians Are Assholes) but I get her drift. She’s over hiding her questions. And so am I.

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For a long time I felt like I wasn’t good enough. I drank over it. Raged over it. Hid behind my feelings that “something just doesn’t feel right” with my soul. When I found a big church, it felt like the pieces came together just enough to keep me from breaking apart. I loved the sermons and the pastor. I loved some of the people. It felt safe. People were kind to me. But there was also a bottom line: There was one way to heaven. Doubt, resist and flail, but in the end, put down your guns.

I wanted to do this. I was used to doing this. After all, when everyone else is right, and you are wrong, this is an easy creed to follow. And yet, there were issues. I had a Jewish father, lots of Jewish family members, and many friends from other faith traditions. I tried to swallow the idea that my conservative church’s way was right, and their’s was not, but I never felt the need to convert them. The only thing I wanted to ask them was if they could pass the bagels or the Tikka Massala shrimp.

As time went on, and I found my strength through a 12 step program and a flock of girlfriends who just let me be me (as well as raised independent thinkers who asked hard questions that couldn’t be answered with just black and white Bible verses) my facade of “it must be this way or I’ll crumble” well… crumbled.

And in the rubble, with just me, the Holy Spirit and an empty cup of Yuban, it hit me: I didn’t want my church’s “religion” so much as I wanted the assurance so many of the members seemed to have. For the first time, I had honesty about my doubts. And while that honesty was uncomfortable, it was like finally taking off a pair of jeans that were too tight. I felt free. Less burdened. I didn’t lose Jesus. I just lost my need to have someone else’s Lord.

The Awkward Rebel

I know that many conservative folk would say I’m being rebellious, but if they knew me, they’d know I’m the most tender, rule following good girl there is. But often that has been at the expense of this good girl’s wellbeing. And that felt bad.

So Now What? 

I believe with 100% certainty that God is for me, not against me, but I also believe he is for you if you are naturally born gay. I don’t believe it’s a choice. And I can no longer attend a church that counsels people to deny this aspect of their being.

When I get quiet, which is where I hear from God (just like Paul did… just like many male prophets did) I hear a tender voice that reminds me, “You don’t know everything, Andrea, but you were fearfully and wonderfully made. I love you. Now go out and love others and put down the judgement today. And by judgement, I don’t mean of others. You have always loved others. I mean of yourself. And eat a taco while you’re at it.”

And so I did.

I joined a tiny open and affirming church that allows me the respect to question, seek and love my fellow worshippers exactly as they are, not as religion tells them to be. And I’ll be providing the taco bar for fellowship in a few weeks. If you, too, are a seeker, come join me. Services start at 10.

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And if you’re happy at your more traditional church, that’s okay, too. I don’t want to be right. I just want peace. And I wish the same for you.

Happily Ticked Off Tip #12: Find Your Own God, Not Someone Else’s. If You’re Wrong, God Will Let You Know. And It Will Make a Fun Story at the Welcome Back Church BBQ.

Until next time,

My book is available on Amazon. (Note: It’s a special ed journey… your kid doesn’t need to have Tourettes to relate!) Follow me on Twitter@AndreaFrazerWrites or on Facebook. 

books

 

Uncategorized

It’s Not About the Fixing the Tics… It’s About Fixing Our Eyes on The One Who Matters Most

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Many of you who have read this blog know that I went through hell and back trying to come to terms with my son’s Tourette Syndrome. I tried everything including, but not limited to:

  • Acupuncture
  • Gluten free/dairy free diet
  • Naturopath visits
  • Brain balance
  • Medication
  • ….and more

Despite my efforts to suppress the tics, they still came back. Do I think we could have done more? Yes. But we didn’t. Why? Stink could care less about them. Even at 14, they are still here, head nodding their way through an exciting episode of Gravity Falls… eye rolling their way through a video game… – but they are background players to a movie script full of life, excitement and drama. They are part of who he is, not who he is.

Got Special Needs? My Book Will be Your BFF

Despite my book starting out as a “How to Fix Tics” novela, it quickly became a book on how to love your child for who he is, despite the tics. It became a book for parents of special needs in general – a guide to navigating a diagnosis that you weren’t expecting with some humor, strength and hope.

My Book Will Make You Feel Less Alone

If you are dealing with a diagnosis that is threatening to take you under, Happily Ticked Off is for you. It will make you feel less alone. Why? Because I’ve been there, done that. I’ve been in the I.E.P. meetings. I’ve been to the doctors and the shrinks. I’ve been the lunatic in the grocery store aisles mortgaging my house on organic food because I was positive that if we just had gluten free bread and some Taurine life would become more manageable.

I’m Not God

Threaded through my book is my journey towards a God I came to call Jesus. Why did I end up there? (“Dear God, she’s becoming a holy roller. What happened to our fun Pass the Zoloft cabernet swigging writer friend?” I’ll tell you, people: she realized she simply couldn’t be God. She was a writer, but someone else wrote her story.)

“So My Kid has Tourettes? I’m Supposed to Just Sit Back and Pray the Shoulder Shrugs Away?”

NO. Far from it! The truth is – and I mean this – there is a lot you can do with diet and exercise, but that’s not my expertise. It’s not my story. My son’s special needs life took a turn when he threw his diagnosis on its head and decided that his personality and soul were far superior to his twitches. The story didn’t end with an answer to tics. It began with God being my answer first – then everything else fell into place.

How Can This Book Help You?

If your son or daughter is really struggling with their diagnosis, tics or other, you might wonder why my book can help? It can help you because while I show my own journey to sanity (one that you can learn a lot from – both the ups and downs). It will keep you grounded on what is important while you find your way to peace.

Peace and Special Needs – Is That Possible? YES

Peace can come with a diet that helps tics.

Peace can come with a medication that helps ADD or ADHD.

Peace can come with a vitamin or therapy that helps with Autism issues.

But in the end, peace comes first when we realize that who we are as parents are good enough.

That our kids were created in the image of a God who loves us no matter what.

When we start with the notion that our kids are perfect despite some imperfections because the God who made them is perfect, then we are more relaxed to love them, find solutions and help them become adults who have confidence, strength and purpose to help others.

When they become rooted in who they are in God, the tics, autism and everything else become, like my son’s challenges, background noises in a script full of life, hope, peace and joy.

Moms, You Are Going to Be Okay!

And your child is going to be okay.

That’s because God is good enough to be with us every step of the way.

How Can I Pray for You?

Leave me a comment and let me know how I can pray for you and support you.

 

Until next time…

Andrea

My book is available on Amazon. Follow me on Twitter@AndreaFrazerWrites or on FB

book front and back

Tourettes, Uncategorized

What Makes Us Tic

I’ve been doing a lot of soul searching lately. It’s dawned on me that since my kids were born almost ten years ago (Stink will be 10 in January and Pip will be 8 in two weeks) I have done nothing but run. I run to ballet practice. I run to the market. I run to Ebay ten dollars worth of used ballet shoes. I run to cook up that $4.00 batch of chicken I just got at the market.

There’s nothing wrong with running – it’s part of the mothering experience. And truthfully, I just love the energy of it. (It’s this joy that has me running here to blog!)

But in running, I also am hiding. In particular, I have tried hiding from Tourettes.

Maybe you have done this also?

Maybe you have told yourself, “If I just find the solution to these damn tics all will be okay.”

For me, the miracle finally came.

Stink got some medication. And his tics are at an all time low. (Though they are up 30% the past few days due to computers, yukky food, excitement, etc.) And now, with things okay in Stink’s world – with that magic pill and the answers to all I wanted to make everything okay – I’m starting to unravel.

Why is that?

Am I someone who is wired toward anxiety or fear? Do I need chaos to feel okay?

The truth is, it’s neither of the above.

It’s starting to dawn on me that life itself is nuts. This isn’t good or bad. It just is. People are weird. We’re weird. Nothing goes as we want it to. There is no fix. There might be a magic pill to calm down tics, but there isn’t a magic pill for life. All the booze, pills, exercise, money and running isn’t going to save us from things we can’t control.

And this is why I’m a bit unnerved. Now that I know Stink is going to be okay (he always was) it’s ME who needs to grow up and take life on life’s terms.

* My mom is getting older

* Some day my childhood home will be sold

* Family dynamics aren’t as Little House on the Prairie close as I’d like them to be

* My career isn’t what I had hoped it would be

* My husband is only able to relate to me in the way he can relate to me – he isn’t Prince Charming who can magically read my mind

* My kids won’t be babies forever

Instead of hiding behind the tics, or running, or blaming others or blaming myself, or holding on to my own childhood that is no longer there to comfort me and keep me safe, it’s time to let go. It’s time to just feel whatever I feel. Happiness at the dog across the street who rushes over to my doorstep every day for a treat.

Joy at watching my children sell beads in the kitchen for magical money and a kiss.

Gratitude that my husband makes a good enough living that I can sit at home on a Tuesday and type this post.

And absolute abject fear and terror of how much things are going to change in the next ten years.

Perhaps, like me, you don’t like fear. It’s, um, scary! You consider Zoloft. You drink too much wine at night. You work yourself to death to, there’s that word again, runnnnnnn from it.

But guess what? At some point, you’re going to come to the same realization I have that you can run but you can’t hide. And that horrifically tragic moment wonderfully life altering experience when you slam right into that wall and slide down and you’re exhausted and tired and hurt and angry you have the chance to do something wonderful, you can either:

1. Grab onto your ego and put on your make-up and fake it that all is okay and buy that fancy home in the hills and live a fake life with dotted “i’s” and crossed “t’s” where nothing is unorderly and all is accounted for in your bank account and living room or…

2. You can just go out into the world and show it your scars. You could be shocked at the response you get. Sure, there might be a few, “Oh, God, you really look like crap. Just get it together and grow up and buy retail and suck it up like the rest of us… with good hair please…” But more than likely, your battle wounds will be a beacon to others fighting the same battle. “Hey! I have been there also! Check out my knee scrapes! Got them from too much praying and digging in the garden with my kids and this one? Dropping to the ground at Good Will to score that train table before that other bitch grabbed it.”

I’m tired of “shoulds.” (I’m shoulding all over myself.) In allowing myself just to accept the ever-changing tides of life, I can float on the waves rather than drown in the longing that it were something else. It’s the wanting – this unrealistic wishing of what can’t be – that’s been the key to my discontent. Life won’t be better when my husband changes or my childhood home isn’t sold or I get an amazing job or this book is done. Life is okay now – just as it is.

I’m ready now to face this. It’s a scary journey, but one that is going to open up a whole new life of peace and joy. But for a while, there just might be some tears. And really, I’m okay with that. Discomfort sucks, but I’m brave enough to try if you are. Pema Chodron is someone I have recently discovered. My Christian friends might tell me to pick up a Bible for comfort – and I do. But I’m also picking up her book. It’ll arrive in the mail soon and I’m excited to read it.

You can check a bit of her out here if you’d like!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A4slnjvGjP4

Until then, I’m off to be at peace with life on life’s terms. Wish me luck!