ADHD & Mental Health

Embracing the Four Dimensions of Our Being

I awoke to a flickering light. As I sat up, I thought for a moment I had left my head lamp on. But as I listened to the varied sounds of breathing around me, I discerned that the light was coming from the campfire that had stubbornly refused to go out. I stepped out of the tent into the breeze of a perfectly cool night. The stars brilliantly looked down upon me. As I made my way to the bathroom across the gravel road, there was only silence. The day before, Steve and I had taken our four oldest kids for a wilderness adventure. We had hiked up hills together, prayed over meals, and watched them as they joyfully scrambled over rocks and hopped through creek beds. Laughter was never far away.

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CCC: Clarifying Where Mental Health Begins

In 1980, my father started the Can Collector’s Club (CCC).  I was 2 years old.  As the story goes, it was my mother’s brainchild, but dad quickly took ahold of the idea with his entrepreneurial spirit.  Some people thought he had lost his mind.  Some still do.  But the purpose of the CCC was simple.  Convince family and friends to turn aluminum cans into him so that he could use the money from recycling to support our college fund.  And clean up the environment.  Quickly, the CCC turned into an annual contest, with those collecting the most cans awarded prizes at a fiscal (can) year-end par

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Turning Distress into Joy, Part V and Final: Meaning & Transcendence

It was not the dawn flooding the bay with splendor which woke Frederick…rather it was a gradual awareness of flaming words…all around him—living things that carried him down wide rivers and over mountains and across spreading plains.  Then it was people who were with him—black men, very tall and big and strong.  They turned up rich earth as black as their broad backs; they hunted in forests; some of them were in cities, whole cities of black folks.  For they were free; they went wherever they wished; they worked as they planned.  They even flew like birds, high in

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Turning Distress into Joy, Part IV: Gratitude

Tears were streaming down his mother’s face. Just minutes earlier, he had unleashed a flurry of harsh statements and cursed at her as she stood their silently. For months, John Foppe’s parents had tried to provide various options, and even personal encounters with others similar to him, to teach him how to do the basics. Like dressing himself. Or eating without assistance. Or using the restroom on his own. But over and over, John had refused to open himself to these possibilities, and was resigned to a life largely dependent on others. His parents struggled with what to do next. But, the night before, they had spoken with his brothers, and told them that they were no longer to help him unless told otherwise.

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