It has been a long time since I updated this blog. I guess we have been too busy with living life. Today, I remembered that the blog existed and decided to post some thoughts about big changes in our lives.

Fifteen years ago we moved into our beautiful home. We chose the floor plan and watched it be built. When it was safe enough, Charissa and Harrison (ages four and two) would wander the unfinished home and take turns hiding in the narrow linen closet. We pretended to be surprised every time they called us to the door and we opened it.

Soon after we moved in we woke, came downstairs and discovered that our back yard was full of cows. Apparently, the cows that once knew our neighborhood to be their grazing land tried to reclaim it. We all laughed as they played with toys in the kids' sandbox and removed the grill cover. We laughed when the farmer arrived and chased them (including an angry bull) out of the neighborhood.

Then there were not-so-pleasant memories. Just six months after moving in, Tom developed a rare, mysterious neurological condition called "Dystonia". However, it took months to figure out what it actually was and even longer to figure out how we were going to live with it since there was no cure. When Tom couldn't return to work, I remember the panic of trying to figure out how we were going to pay for this house that we loved so dearly and with God's help and an extremely stubborn disposition, we kept it. It has not been easy but we have never missed a house payment. We traded jobs and Tom became the keeper of the home and primary caregiver of the kids when I returned to working full time.

This beautiful home is full of happy memories. It welcomed Audrey home from the hospital, it celebrated each milestone and each birthday with us. We had race car parties, puppy parties, pizza parties, mystery parties, art parties, baking parties, movie nights, and sleepovers (who are we kidding...they didn't sleep at all). We scrimped and saved and built a fence and play fort with swings and monkey bars. We rescued a dog, then a cat, then another cat, two goldfish, a hamster, and another dog! We played hours and hours and hours of hide and seek...even when our kids got bigger. We built raised garden beds and started a square foot garden after hours of research about organic gardening. We had epic nerf gun battles, water fights and backyard camp outs. We built really cool loft beds for the girls. When the kids outgrew the play fort, Tom turned it into a backyard "pub". He built benches and a fire pit and we added outdoor lights, bar stools and a custom sign. We held Charissa's graduation open house here - in the home that was her school from kindergarten through high school graduation.

This home has been a refuge- a place of love, fun, and lots and lots of really hard work.

We love our neighbors, our green way, the trees we planted...one to remember our growing up in Indiana (tulip poplar) and one to remember my sweet mother (dogwood).

We love this place more than any other place but yesterday, we signed a contract and we will leave and a new family will move in. And while I know that we need to do this...that it is necessary and right...I feel a bit heartbroken. I know that we can work hard to build new memories in a new house but in my heart I feel it will never be the same. Our kids are big now. These walls have sheltered us through sunshine and storms. They know our saddest sorrows and our happiest joys.

It's time to move to a smaller home and think about college tuition and lots and lots of really hard work to help our kids have a strong future. In time, it will be okay. I know it's true. But you may see me shed a few tears before we get there.

Sometimes, we intentionally take bad shots.

Long time, no post.  The fact is, I often want to write something on our blog.  I often think about what I might write on our blog.  But when it comes down to it, I get tired of hearing people's thoughts and opinions at the end of the day, so why would you want to hear mine?  Doesn't everyone have an opinion?  And, if you have a facebook account, you know that some folks make it a point to tell you exactly how they feel regardless of who they hurt in the process.  Some folks make every possible effort to avoid hurting anyone's feelings...so much so that you have no idea what they believe or who they really are.  But- they might tell you how upset they are that someone else has stated their beliefs.  My way of dealing with this has been to avoid blogging, facebooking or t-shirting about controversial subjects.  I'd rather have those conversations face-to-face.  I don't want any chance of my words being misunderstood.  (I've had enough email misunderstandings to learn my lesson!)  And if my opinions bother someone, I'll be able to see that in their eyes and we can talk things out and hopefully end our time together on good terms.

But, as he often does, my son has made me rethink this.  The other day, we were driving down the road listening to Tom read a post about moms not being able to "have it all".  It was a wonderful article and the start of many great articles on this subject (I hope!).  It had to do with that controversial subject of women's equality.  As Tom read, I kept interrupting him and saying things like, "I am so glad she wasn't afraid to say that" or "I feel that way every day!" and "Well, now she's just being stupid because that takes rights away from men!  Are men supposed to surrender their rights so women can do whatever they want?"  This is a hot topic at our house, so we had lots of comments.  You see, I'm not a stay-at-home mom...but I was.  And, my husband doesn't work outside of the home...but he did.  When Tom got sick, we reluctantly traded our chosen roles and got a startling front-row view of what the other lived every day.  And it hurt.  So, we're pretty passionate about this subject.

But, when the article ended and everyone had spoken their mind, my thoughtful and often misunderstood son spoke up and said, "You know, the problem with adults is that they aren't willing to have arguments anymore.  There's just too much compromise in this world."  It struck a cord.  Are we not allowed to believe in anything anymore?  Must we gag ourselves, lest we offend someone with a differing view?  If everyone does this and no one ever speaks up, I think life becomes pretty bland and unsatisfying.  We need to have convictions, beliefs and when necessary, thoughtful arguments.  So, I agree with him and it made me feel a little pathetic, quite frankly.

So- I'm going to take a moment and share my views on the world as I know it...in my country...in my state...in my city...in my neighborhood...on my block...and in my house.

First, I believe in creation.  If you don't, I don't say this to hurt you or offend you or say that you are stupid.  I just believe that science tells me that this world is far too complicated to have happened by chance.  I believe in intelligent design.  And- yes, if I'm terribly honest, I puzzle about anyone that can look at the intricate workings of the human brain and think any differently.  Just being honest here.

I believe that seeds were created so we could produce food to eat.  I have always been amazed at seeds.  Every seed is a miracle to me.  I believe that we should be good stewards of this earth.  I believe in sustainable living.  I believe in fair trade.  I believe that whenever possible, we should eat locally.  It's better for the environment and healthier for our bodies.  I believe that animals, even animals raised to be eaten, should be treated well.  I believe cows shouldn't get shots to make their utters grow so large that they can't stand up (You might think I made this up, but I didn't.  I'll give you the address of the farm.)  I believe that chickens shouldn't be crammed into dirty barns never to see the light of day.

I believe that industrialization was the downfall of America.  I am embarrassed that much of American culture is still controlled by the desire for financial gain and power.  I believe that our food, our water and our air has been compromised by the industrialization of the farm.  I believe Monsanto is merely the continuation of the "progress" our country was so proud of.  I don't hate many things, but I definitely HATE that.

I believe that pride, arrogance, and selfishness have seriously damaged many beautiful things in this world.  I'm a musician.  Music, in my mind, is something to be enjoyed by all.  People of varying skill and talent can participate and have fun.  I remember nights spent in my living room as a child.  Everyone joined in.  If you couldn't play something, you sang.  If you sang horribly, you sang anyway.  And, if the pastor wasn't over, we would even dance.  I grew up, and was offered a record deal and I saw first hand that pride, arrogance and selfishness had tainted the music industry (yes, even the Christian Music industry).  I declined the record deal.  I wanted to believe it was an isolated company and went to a prestigious music school.  It was one of the most amazing experiences of my life.  Everyone loved music and enjoyed making music and it felt as though every class was taking place in my childhood living room.  Then I moved to "Music City" and began working in the "industry".  There, I decided that the industrialization of music destroyed music.  In fact, you don't even have to know anything about music to make a record.  Just speak into a mic and someone will alter your voice enough to make you a star...well...a boob job might not hurt your career either.

I believe that life has become too busy and expectations are too high.  I believe that our citizens work too much.  There's no time for community.  And, without community, you're isolated.  When you're isolated, it isn't long before you need a prescription to boost your mental health.  I think that's sad and not at all close to the original plan.

I think we compare ourselves to others too much.  I think parents are afraid that not letting their child be in a particular extracurricular activity will destroy their child's chances of getting into a good college.  But, in my heart, I believe those things aren't nearly as important as we make them out to be.

I believe that we are too busy to eat healthy.  We don't have time to prepare meals from actual food, so we buy partially made imitation foods and combine them in various ways so we feel as though we've prepared something homemade.  But, that's an illusion.  I believe that because of the industrialization of the farm it is increasingly difficult to find healthy food.  GMO this, neurotoxin that, high fructose mercury syrup... is in the vast majority of the foods in our grocery stores.  And, don't forget that because we have to pay for our kids to be in all of the activities that run us ragged, feel entitled to expensive spring break trips/summer vacations, and because we have to keep up with the latest fashion trends, we think we can't afford to eat organic, non-GMO foods.  Then we demand inexpensive insurance for when our bodies fail us.  And, we are angry when we find out that the government's health plan takes choices away from physicians and patients, so we can't guarantee we'll get the health care that some have so eagerly anticipated.

I believe America is broken.  I don't talk about this as often as I'd like.  But, I promise you that I cry about this pretty regularly. But- you probably don't know this because I'm too busy to talk to you and you're too busy to talk to me.  We don't have time to really bare our souls to each other, so when we meet, we'll stick to asking things like, "So- how does your child like their extracurricular activities?" or "So- how was the beach?" or "How is your father's chemo treatments going?" because everything that I've vented about above has led to this shocking statistic:  "One in two men will get cancer.  One in three women will get cancer."  It's becoming the norm to see hairless, yellowed, numb, weak loved ones limping around.   I know.  I watched my best friend die from cancer.  My own mother is on her second round of cancer.

I'm ready to be dubbed a "freak".  A little over a year ago, my family made the decision to sell our home, buy an RV and start living a simpler life.  It sounded like heaven.  And perhaps we should have worked harder to make it happen.  But- our house didn't sell, my resignation didn't work (long story) and we're still keeping the American routine for the most part.  So, I'm taking a good hard look at life and am trying to see ways that I can change how my family lives and interacts with others.   I'll respectfully and thoughtfully keep you in the loop and not worry so much about who I'll offend.  My son was right.

Glimpses of Gold

"I can see, and that is why I can be happy, in what you call the dark, but which to me is golden. I can see a God-made world, not a manmade world. "  ~   Helen Keller

I have special memories of dancing the polka, jitterbug, waltz, etc. in the grand ballroom known as the Bliss living room...with the most amazing dance partner ever known: my mother.  I remember baking and filling eclairs with her experienced hands guiding mine.  I remember weeding her beautiful irises with her (groaning as I worked).  But, the most treasured memories that I have of my mother is observing her love and care of others.  Whenever there was a need, my mother tried to help.  I remember holding 9 X 13s still in the back seat of many cars as she drove meals to the sick, new parents, and the elderly.  I remember sharing the back seat with elderly couples who could no longer drive and helping push their grocery carts because my mother provided transportation for them.  I have similar memories with my father.  I remember working with him in our garden, late nights listening to him and Mom sing and play instruments together, and our special father-daughter fishing trips.  I remember delivering tall glasses filled with icy drinks as he worked under friends' cars.  I remember the hair standing on the back of my neck while I sat next to the homeless men he brought home for dinner.  They all left with happy tears and hope that things were looking up. 
 
Last month, my parents celebrated their Golden Anniversary.  To honor them, I helped put together a celebration for many family members and friends.  Part of the celebration included a slide show and a brief summary of their years together.  I thought you might enjoy reading it too.  Enjoy!

On July 30th, 1938, in the little coal mining town of Granville, West Virginia, a son was born to Norman and Stephania Bliss.

The sixth of seven children, Earl was no stranger to struggle. His father, Norman, worked in the mines and while he made an excellent wage, the family still struggled to make ends meet.

(L-R: Earl Bliss, Oleta Bliss)

Earl’s mother was a spirited and devoted mother who maintained a small farm for the family, so the family’s food supply was never lacking. Chores were also never lacking.

(Norman R. Bliss, top center)

Earl’s father came from a broken home. At twelve, his father disappeared and Norman was forced to begin working in the coal mine to help his mother make ends meet. He endured many tragedies and difficulties while growing into a young man. Some would say that he continued to fight the demons of his past while he raised his family; which is why he spent much of his time and resources in the local tavern. But Earl’s father brought much joy to his family with his creative (and sometimes questionable) poetry, music and dancing. While he was known for his fiery temper, he was also known for his sense of humor. He was trained in music and dance and music was an important part of the Bliss household. Passers-by might have heard Norman playing a wide variety of stringed instruments, piano, pump organ and his beloved collection of Blues records.

(Stephania Domanski Bliss - Top, 2nd from left)

Earl’s mother, whose nickname was “Stella”, was the daughter of polish immigrants. Her family settled in Pennsylvania after the long trip from Poland.
She and Norman married when Stella was just 16 years old. They had 7 children: Norman Jr., Laura, Mae, Oleta, Grover, Earl and Arthur.
Stella was a good match for Norman. While he was known for his fiery temper, she was known for her fiery devotion to her faith. She had a great sense of humor and a compassionate heart. Though Stella was busy mothering seven children, tending to a farm and keeping the peace with her coal mining husband, she still found time to volunteer at the local jail, sharing the hope she had found in Jesus and his gift of salvation. This hope is what sustained her when life became too hard.

Earl grew up in church. And while this church brought encouragement to his mother, it burdened Earl. The church he grew up in was very legalistic. Salvation wasn’t presented as God’s gift of life, but rather, something one must earn through good works and a sinless life. The restrictions were oppressive and salvation often seemed unattainable. As a young teen, Earl decided that it was too much for him and told God he was going his own way.
Earl was a very intelligent boy. Schoolwork was easy for him. Bored and disillusioned with life, he decided to pursue adventure. He dropped out of school and enlisted in the Air Force. Because Earl was only 17, he needed the signatures of both parents. Since Earl’s mother never would have signed, Earl told the recruiter that his mother had run away and he lived with his father. When Earl’s father met with the recruiter to sign documents, no mention was made of Earl’s mother, so Earl’s plan worked. He was 17 and flying to Germany where he would find adventure.

Earl worked as a jet aircraft mechanic, servicing F100s. This enabled him to see the world and indeed find adventure. When he returned to the states in 1959, his adventures had also earned him a new title: father. Michaela Honolora Wingender remained in Germany with her mother.

(Earl is on the left.)

Earl returned to West Virginia, but since no work was available there, he moved to Crown Point, Indiana to live near his brother, Grover, and work for Universal Atlas, which was part of US Steel.

(Lucille and Conrad Bennett.  Betty Lou Bennett: infant)

On December 19th, 1939, in the little town of Centertown, KY, a daughter was born to Conrad & Lucille Bennett.

The first of nine children, Betty had a happy start. She loved being spoiled by her extended family. But that life changed when Betty’s father, Conrad, moved the family to Whiting, Indiana to find employment.

(L-R: Roy, Betty, John, Cathy, Sue, Teresa, Brenda and Debbie)

Lucille packed up her belongings and her then three children: Betty, Sue, and Brenda and moved into their new apartment. A few years later, Conrad received a draft notice and had to leave his family to serve in World War II. So that Lucille could have the support of her family, Conrad moved his wife and three children back to Centertown for the duration of his military duties.

After his return, Conrad and Lucille welcomed four more children: Roy, Teresa, Cathy and John. Conrad found it difficult to find steady work in Kentucky and once again, the family moved to Whiting, Indiana to return to work at Continental Foundry. They lived in one year until they purchased a home in Gary, Indiana. There, they welcomed two more children: Gary and Debbie. Sadly, Gary died when he was only two days old.

(Conrad Bennett)

Betty’s father was a very happy man, which won him the nickname “Hap”. He enjoyed music and often played his guitar and sang. But, not unlike Earl’s father, Betty’s father also had a difficult past. Conrad’s father had an alcohol problem and left the family when the children were young. This left Conrad’s family very poor and often without food. Conrad hated that his father allowed his family to suffer, but found himself following a similar path. After the war, when Betty was 12 and the family was living in Whiting, Conrad was invited to play his guitar and sing at a tavern walking distance from their apartment. It was there that “Hap’s” own drinking problem began. When Conrad drank, he was no longer the happy father Betty had known but rather a bitter, frustrated man. His battle with alcohol continued until a stroke. He was sober for four years before his death.

(Lucille Whitehead Bennett)

Because of this battle, Lucille carried a heavy burden. But, she wasn’t really alone. Like Earl’s mother, Lucille found her strength in her faith. Every Sunday, she marched her family down to church and trusted in the Lord to provide for their needs.

As a young teen, Betty got a job at J J Newbury’s department store and later, she took a job at Black Oak Pharmacy, which was closer to her home.

In 1960, Betty was working at Black Oak Pharmacy, when a handsome young man came in to purchase some money orders. Something about Earl made Betty nervous. She said that something about him scared her. Earl however, went home and told his family that he was going to marry the Betty Bennett he met at the drugstore that day. This meeting, started it all and because of it, we’re all here today.

Earl returned to the drugstore and asked Betty if she would go on a date to the aquarium. Betty laughed because she knew Earl was trying to find a date location suitable for a good little Christian girl. This offended Earl, so they didn’t go to the aquarium. But, this didn’t stop Earl. He began calling Betty’s home (where consequently, she didn’t live). By this time, Betty was living with an aunt. Thanks to the Bennett kids, the message was delivered and before long, Earl and Betty were dating. Nine months later, they were married.

It’s no wonder, really, that Earl and Betty found a soul mate in each other. They had a lot in common. Not only did they share similar interests, they also shared a lot of pain.

Following their honeymoon, Earl and Betty made their home in an apartment at 5th and Buchanon in Gary. Betty continued working at Black Oak Pharmacy and Earl continued working at Ford Stamping Plant. The following year, they moved to an apartment at 426 VanBuren Street, also in Gary. They moved again, this time to a small home at 633 Calhoun in Brunswick. It was the events in this little home that changed their marriage forever.

Their marriage started out great and they have many happy memories, but what they both remember most from the early years was the arguments that they had. Arguments started with cruel words, progressed to threats and eventually became physical fights. It was a dark and painful time. One of the biggest differences that Earl and Betty had was in regards to faith. Betty was devoted to God and enjoyed attending church regularly. Earl was still avoiding church and more specifically, God. Betty’s devotion irritated him. Betty hoped that Earl would “come around” and looked for opportunities to encourage Earl in that direction. One particular evening, Betty was at church and Earl was, of course, at home. He had been dealing with terrible pain from the bleeding stomach ulcers that he had and as he doubled over in pain, his eyes fell on a bible that Betty had purchased for him. This bible, that had once been received in anger, was opened and fell to the passage in Acts 3 that churched children often sing about.

"1 One day Peter and John were going up to the temple at the time of prayer—at three in the afternoon. 2 Now a man who was lame from birth was being carried to the temple gate called Beautiful, where he was put every day to beg from those going into the temple courts. 3 When he saw Peter and John about to enter, he asked them for money. 4 Peter looked straight at him, as did John. Then Peter said, “Look at us!” 5 So the man gave them his attention, expecting to get something from them.

6 Then Peter said, “Silver or gold I do not have, but what I do have I give you. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, walk.” 7 Taking him by the right hand, he helped him up, and instantly the man’s feet and ankles became strong. 8 He jumped to his feet and began to walk. Then he went with them into the temple courts, walking and jumping, and praising God. 9 When all the people saw him walking and praising God, 10 they recognized him as the same man who used to sit begging at the temple gate called Beautiful, and they were filled with wonder and amazement at what had happened to him."

Earl knew God was speaking to him and that his days of resisting were over. Right at that moment, he got on his knees and spoke a crude prayer. He said, “God, what you did for that old man, I want you to do for me.” Instantly the excruciating pain in his stomach went away. But not only was his stomach healed, he had found peace with his Creator.

Later that evening, Earl drove to the church to give Betty a ride home. On the drive home, Earl said, “I got saved tonight.” And Betty responded with “You liar.” Earl continued, “I want to eat what you eat tomorrow and I want you to make chili with hot peppers.” This was a shocking request because Earl had been on a strict diet because of his stomach condition. The next day, Earl ate everything he requested with no pain. His healed stomach and new perspective on life was a fresh start for their marriage.

Through the years, their love for each other and their love for their God grew. They rejoiced with Him in the good times and clung to Him through the bad times.

Together, they mourned six years of infertility and miscarriages. They rejoiced when they received the call that a five pound miracle boy was waiting for them to adopt.

They named him Aaron Todd Bliss.

Two years later they rejoiced when they learned they were expecting a second son, who they named Stephen Brian Bliss.

They mourned the loss of their daughter, Crystal Dawn Bliss in the delivery room.

They rejoiced when their fourth child survived Hyaline’s Membrane Disease following her birth. They named her Rachel Nicole Bliss.

They trusted God when Earl had multiple heart attacks.

They trusted God when Betty was first diagnosed with breast cancer.

They trusted God when Betty developed an eye disease and had to undergo numerous treatments and surgeries.

They trusted God when Earl suffered with temporary amnesia.

They continue to trust God as Betty fights another battle with breast cancer, blindness and neuropathy.

Through all of these things, they have trusted God and He has proven Himself faithful. He promised He would never leave them and He kept His promise.
Because their lives were transformed from something dark and difficult to something beautiful and hopeful, they wanted to share their experience with everyone in need.

Betty was often found preparing meals for the sick, driving the elderly wherever they needed to go, and helping with Bible Studies.

Earl was often found under the cars of friends experiencing car trouble, picking up hitchhikers on the highway (and bringing them home for a meal!), helping with Bible Studies and volunteering at the county jail.
Together, they found enjoyment traveling and enjoying the beauty of nature. They often sang together, with Earl playing the guitar and Betty playing the piano. And, in the past several years, they enjoyed volunteering in Jail Ministry together prior to Betty’s recurrence of cancer.

Their journey was filled with laughter, music, dancing, food, friends, beautiful nature, quiet prayers, loud rejoicing and even more laughter.
If you’re wondering how to make a marriage survive 50 years, Betty and Earl would say that YOU can’t make it survive…but God can. Trust Him.

Happy 50th Anniversary, Mom and Dad

"16 Therefore we do not lose heart.  Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.  17For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. 18 So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen.  For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal."  2 Corinthians 4:16-18

How time flies...reliving the memories

It's been an emotional week.  This time of year is always a little tough for the Hoffmans.  Add a little sickness and it just makes the emotions intensify.

Monday, marked Tom's 43rd birthday.  We had a great day.  We took Tom out to lunch and enjoyed Toy Story 3 at the $1.50 theater.  (Good things come to those who wait!)

But, Monday also marked the 7th anniversary of Tom's Dystonia.  It seems impossible that Tom has been battling this disorder for SEVEN YEARS.  But, we've felt every bit of those years.  It's very strange to have your life turned upside down by illness.  I remember that day so vividly.  Because it was Tom's birthday, we had planned a fun day out.  First, we had breakfast at IHOP.  Then, we headed to Gentry Farms to pick out pumpkins and explore their beautiful (and educational!) farm.  Then, Tom and the kids enjoyed a car show while I went to a music rehearsal.  We all met back at our home (wow- two drivers!) and baked a cake for Tom.  As the finishing touches were going on the cake, Tom lost control of his neck muscles.  He began shaking his head violently as if he were strongly disagreeing with someone.  Then, the movements spread to his arms.  I remember him calling me into the room and I thought he was playing some kind of strange joke and grabbed his arm to make him stop.  But, I couldn't make it stop and saw the fear in his eyes.  I remember spending 8 hours in the ER that night.  I remember being told that it wasn't a seizure and it wasn't a stroke, so we could go home and see our doctor on Monday.  I remember leaving for Washington, D.C. instead of going to the doctor.  They symptoms had stopped afterall, so why postpone Tom's work trip?  The kids and I tagged along because I had never been to D.C. .  I remember spending an entire day at a walk-in clinic and pharmacy after 4-year-old Charissa became sick in the night.  Then I remember Tom driving us down the road and noticing his fingers twitching involuntarily.  I remember the symptoms increasing rapidly and by the time we arrived back in Nashville, Tom's walking was reduced to a slow, strange gait.  His speech was altered, his jaw opened and closed involuntarily.  His neck shook, his arms shook.  We were once again terrified and the doctors had no answers.  We were told to go home and get our affairs in order because whatever it was was progressing quickly.  If it was an undetected brain tumor, Tom's life might end quickly.  I remember looking at my swollen, 6-month-pregnant belly and crying out of fear and anger, wondering how I was going to raise three children on my own.  I remember driving to the grocery store and parking on the side of the road to cry and yes, scream at God for being such a bad parent.  I remember hearing His voice and choosing never to doubt Him again.

I remember Tom not dying.  How strange is that?  I remember realizing that nothing was changing.  I remember going for second, third, fourth opinions and being told that it was all in Tom's head.  That this disorder was nothing more than a reaction to stress in Tom's life.  I remember driving Tom to "biofeedback sessions" where doctors tried to determine what stressor was causing this "somatization disorder".  I remember no stressors being found.

I remember the anti-anxiety meds that Tom was prescribed.  I remember his emotionless state and endless bowls of cocoa krispies.  I have no idea what was in those drugs that made my husband crave those but he did and he gained a lot of weight due to multiple bowls a day.  I remember never leaving home for fear that Tom was too emotionally unstable to be alone with our children.  I remember realizing that Tom wouldn't be going back to work.  I remember wondering how I was going to make a living.

After staying home, feeling lonely and frustrated for many weeks, Tom was invited to a prayer meeting.  This Bible Study met early in the morning and was attended by mostly retired men.  For weeks, Tom attended and quietly participated.  Finally, Tom had the courage to tell the group about his "anxiety disorder" and the ordeal we'd been through and asked for prayer.  After the prayer meeting, a retired neurologist approached Tom and told him that he didn't believe the diagnosis was correct.  He told him he had observed the symptoms of "blepharospasm" which was a form of Dystonia.  He also made some calls and got Tom an appointment at Vanderbilt.

I remember being told that I could go into labor at any time and immediately began calculating when I would need to have the baby in order to drive Tom to the long anticipated Neurologist appointment.  When I knew I was cutting it close, I drank half a bottle of castor oil and went into labor.  I remember that no one was available to drive us to the hospital.  So, I drove us.  If we'd managed the past three months, surely we could get to the hospital...even in labor!  Audrey was born...quickly and struggled to breathe.  She entered the world blue and grasping her unbilical cord like a paratrooper.  Her lungs were still full of fluid and it took effort to get her to cry.  We were terrified.  Our wonderful OB/GYN didn't exactly treat our baby gently.  But, we're thankful that her knowledge and skill saved our littlest one from long-term complications.  We're even more thankful to God that He spared her despite the fact that her fast delivery was MY doing.  (I have always struggled to leave the timing up to God.  Lesson learned.)

I remember driving home from the hospital the evening before Tom's appointment.  I remember walking into the hospital with Tom and our sweet newborn and meeting our new Neurologist.  I remember the emotion of learning that we had been misled for months and endured so many emotions and side effects of medication for nothing.  We had a diagnosis: Generalized Dystonia.  Basically, this meant that my husband had involuntary movements all over his body.  No known cause, no known cure.  Usually, Dystonia was either genetic (Tom tested negative), was the result of an injury/trauma (not the case for Tom) or was the result of some kind of poisoning.  After much research, we learned that Tom's sensitivity to Monosodium Glutamate (MSG) may have been the culprit.  After years of unexplained migraine headaches, we learned to avoid the substance.  But what we didn't know was that it is contained in 57 ingredients and isn't included in ingredient lists if in those ingredients.  The day that Dystonia started, Tom had unknowingly ingested at least 3 forms of MSG and had a migraine follow.  An often unknown fact about Monosodium Glutamate is that it is a neurotoxin.  Every time a person eats MSG, brain cells die.  The only viable explanation for Tom's Dystonia was the possibility of brain damage: damage to his basal ganglia because of long-term exposure to MSG.  Months of experimental drugs and procedures followed with no success.  This was our new life.

I think that losing his ability to drive was most difficult for Tom.  He still has a license and in a pinch can drive short distances.  But, because Dystonia causes involuntary movements (including eyelid closure), it's not in anyone's best interest for Tom to drive down the interstate at 70mph on a regular basis.  Tom's car sat in our garage for something like 6 months.  Charissa began showing signs of anxiety, so we decided to go to family counseling.  As it turns out, the counselor felt the new display of emotions was typical of a 4-year-old.  To our surprise, the counselor observed that Tom and I were the ones in need of counseling.  It was this counselor who helped us finally sell the car.  He said we were living every day as if it were Saturday and we were waiting for Monday to come.  And, given the information we had, Monday wasn't coming.  He helped me come to terms with leaving my stay-at-home-mom status (still painful even now) and accept getting a job.  We were forced to make decisions we never would have made outside of our unique circumstances.  We don't exactly fit in anywhere now and can anticipate that won't change.  It's still not easy, but God has given us strength as we've faced each step.

So, here we are seven years later and I'm still trying to figure out what life is going to look life for us.  Right now, it's far too stressful. That is certain.  I'm thankful for employment, but I work too much and spend too much time stressed out.  We are praying about how we might be able to change our situation to reduce stress and spend more time as a family, building memories and letting go of the past.  It's not easy.  I don't know if it ever will be.  I guess that's what happens when a loved one gets sick and never gets well.  Don't get me wrong.  I thank God every day that Tom is alive.  He's my best friend and I am so grateful that I haven't lost him.  I don't even mind finding dirty socks on the bedroom floor.  They make me smile now.  But, I still feel that I grieve his diagnosis every day. 

We are finally getting excited about considering ways to regain our lives.  We don't want to live with an illness.  We want to live life...and joyfully...to the fullest.  So, seven years after Tom's Dystonia arrived, we're feeling hopeful.  Year eight just may be our year of new beginnings.  We'll keep you posted and appreciate your prayers.

Merry Christmas!

It's Christmas morning and as I sit here thinking of what to say to family and friends who will be checking in on us here, I find that I'm a bit conflicted. Christmas is such a fun time with family and friends, music and decorations but I feel the weight of the world on my shoulders. Do I keep this happy or do I tell you the honest truth?

The honest truth is that while I can't promise you all happiness in this post, I can bring you good tidings of comfort and joy. Comfort and joy, thank heaven, doesn't require all happy thoughts. :)

Life has been moving along full-speed-ahead for the Hoffmans. Here is a brief update on all of us, youngest to oldest:

Audrey is now 5.5 years old. She is in the first grade and her favorite subject is Geography. She just graduated from The Music Playhouse and has expressed interest in beginning harp lessons. Yes. Harp. Large, heavy, expensive, and lovely. We are considering options in this regard and will keep you posted on this development. Other than that, she is still quite an artist, and can be found doodling, decorating and creating pretty much all day. She enjoys reading, ballet and adventure! She's got quite a sense of humor and a bit of attitude.

Audrey had a tie for favorite Christmas present this year: Kit the American Girl doll and Chloe, a Webkinz Chihuahua.

Harrison is now 8 years old. He is in the third grade and his favorite subject is recess. He is actively involved in Cub Scouts (He's a Bear Cub) and is still enjoying playing electric guitar. He loves reading, computer games & building and inventing things. He just recently made a scrub brush robot that can "walk" across our hard floors with the help of a battery and some vibration. Harrison is hoping to move up to higher-end materials and make REAL robots as soon as he can save up enough money. He's a hard-working entrepreneur and has saved quite a bit from the past two years' cub scout popcorn sales. We're impressed that he has been able to resist the urge to spend his earnings. He definitely keeps an eye on the prize and easily avoids impulse buys. Harrison has also become a skilled joke-teller, so be sure to ask him for a funny the next time you see him. Harrison's favorite Christmas present this year is his Didj.

Charissa is now 10 years old. She is in the fifth grade and her favorite subject is history. She's an avid reader. Right now, she enjoys reading Jan Karon's Mitford series, The Mysterious Benedict Society series (she received 2 MBS books from Grandma for Christmas!), and The Babysitters Club Series. Charissa also loves ballet and enjoyed dancing in the Centennial Youth Ballet's "Mini-Nutcracker" as a party-scene girl this month. This required many, many hours of hair styling which only added to the fun of dancing to sold-out performances every night. She was sleep-deprived but overflowing with fun memories. Charissa just received word that she won the 6th place prize in the David Chow Foundation's humanitarian award for her efforts to help The Philip Hayden Foundation orphans in China. She is hoping to begin visiting area churches to let them know of this special work in China and offer baked goods for purchase to continue raising money for the orphanage. If your church would be willing to let her share a 5-minute presentation during a service, please let us know! Charissa can't decide which Christmas present is her favorite, but wants to tell all of her Nutcracker "Bunny" friends that she named her Bunny Webkinz "Lucy Paige" in honor of their heroic performances. : )

Tom and Rachel are doing well. Tom continues to homeschool the kids and Rachel continues to run The Music Playhouse in Nashville. Life becomes so busy at times that we find our biggest goals are getting to bed before midnight and making sure we have at least groceries on hand for the day's meals. Most of the time, we accomplish at least those two things. But, lately, our goals have been in finding time to spend time with family...and finding time has been immensely difficult. After 19 years of remission, Rachel's mom's breast cancer returned with a vengeance. After a scan revealed breast cancer in the lungs, bones and various other places in her body, she began agressive chemotherapy treatments that have landed her in the hospital at least twice in the last few months. And, to further complicate her situation, the steroids required for chemotherapy treatments has caused her vision problems to escalate and she now has approximately 5% of her vision remaining. Rachel's dad is working very hard to keep up on her treatments, laundry, household work, yard work, etc. and we would love to spend more time helping share the burden of this hideous diagnosis. However, the many miles between us make this very complicated. Driving what is often 20 hours roundtrip (how many bathroom breaks can you imagine with 3 kids??), is exhausting. But, we've been able to travel to be with them twice over the past few months and we have thoroughly enjoyed the time we've shared.

Sometimes we feel we've had our share of life trials and difficulties, but the longer we live, we learn that everyone has their own set of trials and difficulties. No one is free of stress or sorrow. This is life after the fall. And because of the little baby born in a manger (who often gets lost in all of the other Christmas traditions), life is worth living despite the struggle. Our God could have turned a blind eye to the mess we made of ourselves and this world, but instead took on human flesh, sorrows and stress so we could know Him and His comfort and joy. He is the reason for all good in this life and we are so very grateful to Him for every moment of it.

We hope you feel this comfort and joy despite the trials in your life, not just at Christmas, but all year 'round.

Merry Christmas!

I feel as though I should apologize for not posting in 10 months. But truly, the way we live, the past 10 months have passed by so quickly that it feel like it has been 10 weeks. The schedule is non-stop. The crazy thing is, I don't recall determining the schedule and nobody in our home recalls determining it either. The Hoffman schedule just seems to make its own decisions and pulls us along for the ride. It's somewhat frightening. To keep this from becoming a novel, I'll share the cliffnotes version of what you've missed:

November: Thanksgiving in DeMotte. We always like to see how long we can make that 7-hour drive last. I believe our record is 13 hours.

December: The Mini Nutcracker. Charissa danced and Rachel sold cookies...about 3000 cookies, actually.

January: Celebrating the wedding our our dear friends, Joel & Megan. It was one of the happiest weddings we've ever experienced. Absolute joy and celebration...and fabulous food. Really fabulous food.
February: The Homeschool Science Fair at the Adventure Science Center. The kids are categorized by age, so none of our children compete against each other. This year, Charissa won third prize for her category and Harrison took home first prize for his. February is also the the month for Father/Daughter Banquets. Charissa & Tom always enjoy their special date!

March: Audrey's Birthday, of course. This year, Audrey turned five. She was sick with a fever the day of her party, so the party was cancelled. We celebrated as a family and she still got a purple cake with a unicorn. March was also time for "The Music Playhouse Live!". The program I direct has a show once each year featuring fabulous Nashville players performing all of the kids' favorites from the year. I've never experienced anything like it. It's a tremendous amount of work to organize, but I love it. Charissa sang a solo on one of the songs this year.

April: Girls' Night Out at the ballet, Cub Scout Ceremonies and Ressurection Day. Sadly, I woke up with a stomach virus on Ressurection Day, so I helped get the kids dressed for church and went back to bed. Tom remembered to take pictures. He's a good dad.

May: Harrison's Profession of Faith. There is nothing sweeter or more satisfying than hearing your child profess their love of Christ publically and with sincerity. All the Sundays of searching for lost shoes, bouncing fussy babies on knees, pulling noisy kids out of service to give them a-talking-to are forgotten. If you're still in that phase, don't lose heart. It's worth every frustrating little battle.

June: The Music Playhouse Studio Grand Opening. Yes, the dream has come true. I am now teaching in a custom studio. The response was overwhelming. We had 1000 people come out for classes during Grand Opening week. It was utterly exhausting but wonderful at the same time.

July: Firefly Fine Arts Festival & Fourth of July with The Langelands. I'm not sure that July is the best month for an outdoor fine arts festival. Actually, I'm quite sure it's not. We nearly melted. But it was a fun opportunity to have some "mommy" time with the kids. Harrison was even featured on the news, apparently.

August: August is still in the making. We'll give you that info in the next post. :)

Thanks for waiting 10 months for the next edition. :) We hope you're having a great summer!

Love,

The Hoffmans