My Therapy

Mamoune is in therapy for her attachment issues.  Isaiah is in therapy for his developmental issues.  Nathan does skateboard therapy for his "everybody else gets to leave this house for several hours a week except me and that's not fair" issues.  Bella recently asked what her and Justus get to do for therapy.  TV.  The answer is watching TV.  She seemed satisfied enough.

Tim doesn't have any therapy.  He may need it,but I am selfishly and unashamedly pressuring him to hold his crap together while the rest of us flop and flail.  My therapy?  Well, I've been searching for just the right therapist for several months and found not just one but two highly qualified counselors.  Allow me to introduce them: 

April and Barkley

So, I met April at PetSmart about a month ago and she seemed like a great dog but I wasn't sure she was "the one" (see criteria further down) and didn't want to make an impulsive decision.  I took the information and walked away to continue my search.  A few weeks later, I met Barkley.  It just so happens that Chatham County Animal Control is near one of our therapy offices so we stopped by one afternoon to check things out.  I was looking for some very specific things.  Or at least looking to avoid some very specific things.

1.  I did not want a dime-a-dozen, generic, solid black dog.  (Don't judge.  I have all black kids.  It's not entirely unreasonable to want to change things up a bit. :-))

2.  I did not want a male.  We have had males in the past.  We have had females in the past.  I was partial to girl dogs.  It is what it is.

3.  I did not want an adult and definitely not one with a sketchy past that may decide to eat my little people for lunch.

MOST IMPORTANTLY TO NOTE:

4.  I did want a dog whose face clearly read "I am the one.  Take me home!"

We perused the kennels and noticed several puppies even played with one of a sibling group.  Cute, cuddly, blond puppies.  We passed the kennel with the black dog sitting ever so attentively.  Watching us.  We passed it again.  The third time we stopped.  I looked at the dog.  Solid black.  Strike one.  I looked at the paperwork.  Male.  Strike two.  Approximately 2 years old.  Strike three.  Good with kids?  Unknown.  Strike four.  Come on, three strikes you're out.  Strike four should've been the nail in the coffin.

"You're just not the right dog."  I mused as though he could understand and would somehow give me a guilt-free pass for leaving him on death row.  His head cocked to one side.  Those ears standing straight up.  "But you do seem awfully sweet."  And that's when it happened.  I squatted down and right on cue those ears laid back making those big, brown eyes pop out like saucers.  Need I say more.  That was all she wrote.  He had no name but Barkley just felt right.  And he was a perfect fit except for one thing --he just seemed restless.  We knew that his upcoming surgery would help settle him down a bit but we also thought maybe he would like a companion, which brought April back to mind.

I won't say it was love at first sight.  They had some serious dominance issues to work out but all in all we are really happy with both of them.  They are smart, they are very trainable, they are wonderful with all the kids and the chaos.  But what's more --they love me.  =)  No really.  They are happy to see me every morning or even if I just walk out of the house for a few minutes.  They want to be loved and suck up affection like sponges.  And even when I have to scold one of them, they don't spend days hating me for it.  They have yet to slam a single door or roll their eyes at me.  It's almost as though they want to please me.  They want me to be with me.  Sigh.  That is just the therapy I needed!

RAD and Real -Part 1

Fair Warning:  This will be honest.  It will not be censored for your comfort or mine.  If you prefer to live in sunshine and roses...enjoy!  And quit reading now.

I like sunshine.  I like roses, too.  But today, the past two days, this past week is more of a shadows and weeds kind of theme.  We started therapy with Mamoune.  We were hopeful.  We felt understood for the first time.  The therapist told us it would most likely get worse before it gets better.  She was right.

Therapy is on Tuesdays.  On Wednesday Mamoune fought me over everything.  I was being punished.  On Thursday, she pouted all day.  I was being baited.  Friday was more or less calm.  I was being ignored.  Saturday she fumed and then freaked.  I was leaving the house.  Sunday she screamed and yelled.  I was tired.  And today, she lost it completely.  I was shoved against a bedroom door.  Tomorrow is therapy.

I understand her frustration over some of the techniques.  Having boundaries sucks.  But then there are the things that make no sense but must be dealt with just the same.  For example:

We watched Smurfs on Friday night -it was Bella's birthday.  On Saturday morning, Mamoune was mad because, well just because, and she asked me through clenched teeth if she could put some laundry in my room.  I took a deep breath.  Her being mad and talking to me through clenched teeth makes me mad because, well just because.  Then I put on a smile and said "AbsoSMURFLY!"

She muttered aloud how completely stupid I am and whacked herself into the doorjamb because her daddy happened to be coming through the door at the same time and injuring yourself is always better than waiting patiently.  Tim heard and saw the disdain oozing from her being and intervened.

Tim:  What just happened?
Amie:  I said "absosmurfly".
Tim:  Mamoune, why are you so angry?
Mamoune:  (need I mention the clenched teeth?) She could've just said YES!

Tim pondered the situation for a moment then continued:

Tim:  Amie, I hereby give you permission to use "smurf" when and how you see fit.

I thanked him for his gracious rule of our kingdom and then yelled "SMURF YOU, MAMOUNE!" as she stomped through the house.  It was very mature of me, I know.  But I've been maintaining the mature side of this relationship for a long time and so far this is what it's gotten me:

I am having difficulty sleeping.  I clench my jaw in the night and wake up with terrible headaches.  When I do sleep, I am plaugued with dreams of fighting with friends, family, my kids; being chased; being attacked; my children being attacked, being kidnapped, drowning; sharks, alligators, and so on.  I wake up crying in my sleep.  I never wake up rested.  I have random bouts of diarhea.  I have waves of anxiety and suddenly feel so overwhelmed that I can't move.  I am having heart palpitations.

You know how you feel after a huge burst of adrenaline --after a car accident or maybe a confrontation in which you got blasted by someone and didn't get a chance to resolve it?  Your thoughts are flying a mile a minute, your breathing is faster, your blood pressure is up, your entire body tenses and it takes time, sometimes hours or days to bring everything back to a normal level.

Mamoune thrives on adrenaline.  It's her zone and she needs the conflict, the mad, to keep the levels where she's comfortable.  And it works for her because when she gets mad enough, she screams, stomps, throws things, howls, slams doors, etc.  She works herself up and then takes all the time she wants to verbally and physically bring herself back down.

I do not thrive on adrenaline but living with a person whose singular goal in life is to make sure you know how much she hates you jacks with my levels.  Everyone of these conflicts with Mamoune, almost every conversation with Mamoune, feels like an attack.  But being the mature one means that I spend my days swallowing anger, measuring my words, and squelching a perpetual flow of adrenaline.  This is not healthy.  I know this.

I don't know how to fix it.  I don't know what it will take to heal Mamoune.  I don't know how long it will take.  I don't know how sick I will be by the time she is well.  I don't know how to keep doing this.  I don't know if I can keep doing this.

Wrapping It Up

-2011 that is.  And what a year it was!  We have so many people and things and experiences to be thankful for and much to look forward to in 2012. 

For those who do not already know, our board of directors recently voted that the Sexton crew take a six month sabbatical.  When we pulled together this group of directors, we intentionally chose those who not only understood the importance of the mission but would advocate for our family and help us guard against burn-out, performance driven ministry, etc.  And this amazing team, this amazing group of friends, have worked hard to remind us that the health of our ministry is directly related to the health of our family and that we must prioritize with that in mind.  We are SO THANKFUL for their wisdom!

We have been serving in our community for just over four years now, full-time for two years.  Most missionary-sending agencies require some type of furlough after two to three years for the well-being of their missionaries.  We were a little bit over due.  While this transition hasn't been the easiest to make, we see God's hand in the timing --several of our Bible studies were already falling apart and we had narrowed our activities drastically in the months preceding.  In addition to the changes in the 'hood, we have also known and been pushing toward addressing some of the needs of our own children.

Isaiah has begun occupational and speech therapy.  He has always been our gentle giant and well, his body just outgrew his ability to keep up with it.  (Anyone who kept the nursery at Faith when he was wearing 2T's at 6 months old can attest to this.)  But he is doing great in play therapy and LOVES it -he has no idea it's a "treatment" just fun and games. =)  We will also begin therapy for our daughter with RAD in January.  Therapeutic parenting has already required constant mental and emotional energy and we imagine it will only become more so as we implement new techniques.  We are nervous and excited to learn and work toward healing for Mamoune.  This sabbatical allows us the time to give needed attention to these things that we have unintentionally overlooked.

Aside from that, and lest anyone think we'll be snoozing the days away and popping bon-bons for the next six months:  because the therapy aspect alone is enough to drain my energy most days, I'm hoping to engage my creative side and see how God may use my gifting to benefit our family and to keep me sane.  Tim has already been thumbing through the seed catalogs in preparation for the spring garden.  He will also have lots of farm life to keep him busy as we look toward processing our first chickens (processing being the nice way to say killing) and delivering baby goats in late February/ early March.  And of course, we still live here so while we will have no scheduled programming, there are plenty of knocks on the door, kids in the yard, and general Christian neighborliness to handle.

Which leads me to clarify one small point... we've been asked "what about your finances?"  And that's a fair question.  We are hoping that our supporters will consider this sabbatical as PART OF our ministry (repair and preventative care) and continue to donate as the Lord leads them.  And ultimately, we'll trust that if we lose support during this time, God is big enough to handle it and will supply just what we need.  One thing you may not know: we've never been fully funded.  We are living off your generous donations and what remains of our savings account/tax return each year.  We try to live as cheaply as possible (thus the urban homesteading thing) so that we can be good stewards of your support.  Our greatest need is for the Sexton family regular living expenses, which are not tax deductible.  We do not anticipate any kind of tax refund this year, as we have no income to report and no adoption expenses to reimburse.

Whether you can give financially or not, we would ask that you continue to pray for us and know that we will keep you posted on the ways God refreshes, changes, motivates, uses, and challenges us during this time.

FINALLY (for the three of you still reading), we would just like to say Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.  We love and appreciate each of you!  And in closing... besides being lucky enough to have the great Troy Livesay visit us this year, we were doubly lucky that he brought along his camera.  Here are some of our faves!    

Around the dinner table



What "no trespassing" sign?



ALL TIME FAVE!

Just us hangin' in our 'hood.

Trying to look tough- fail.  Total cuteness -check.

LOVE TO ALL FROM THE SEXTON CREW!!!

Parenting Here

Today a bully kid threatened to burn Isaiah with a lighter. 

Same kid took a cheap shot on Nathan's privates two weeks ago and then lied straight to my face about it.

Same kid, along with others, are into shooting airsoft at each other.


I do not want to be the neighborhood cop.

The guy who always goes to the parents with bad news about their kid's behavior.

Mister Goody-Two-Shoes white guy killing everyone's "fun."

But dang.  What's a dad supposed to do?

The Ultimate Reason for Giving Thanks

I talked to a young man tonight.  He said if he died he knows he'd go to hell.  He tries not to think about it.

Whether you believe in hell or not, imagine living in fear of it...especially when you don't have to.

He was amazingly honest, and it was refreshing to hear him admit his life wasn't where God wants it to be.  I shared the fact that "God demonstrated His love for us in this: while we were still sinners, Christ died for us" (Romans 5:8). 

Imagine that.  God LOVES the likes of us.  We've broken His laws, live like He doesn't exist half the time, and we express arrogance and selfishness in some way every day.  Yet He loves. 

Not just some words: "I love you" with no actions to back them up.  Not like some teenage romance with nothing but hormones to back up the emotions.

This love is demonstrated, proven, on display for all to see.  And it comes to us before we could ever put ourselves together, promise to live better, keep the commandments, etc.  He demonstrates it while we're still in rebellion.

And He offers us eternal life by faith in Christ, not by works of righteousness.  That means it's based on Jesus' perfection, not our performance.  That means we can have confidence, because we are not on trial here; Jesus is.  And His death takes the place of ours; His righteousness takes the place of our sin; His position of righteousness becomes ours, and our position became His on the cross.

That means we do not need to live in fear anymore.  No...more...fear.

On this Thanksgiving Eve, if you have confidence that God loves you, if you are confident that Christ's Kingdom is yours because of God's promise that faith alone in Christ saves...you have MUCH to be thankful for.  If these truths are settled into your soul and define who you are, you have MUCH to be thankful for.  Revel in what it all means this Thanksgiving.  No amount of food, family, and football could ever begin to compare to this.

Happy Thanksgiving, everybody.

A Ridiculously Profound Message for Miss Annie

Every Tuesday afternoon for the last 2 months at 4:30 pm, I grab my Bible and head down to Annie-Mae's house.  She's over 80 years old, and her home is like Grand Central Station - always people coming and going.  Sometimes two or three folks gather to talk about Jesus on the front porch; sometimes it's just me and Miss Annie.  I try to communicate; she tries to understand this little white boy from up the street.  There's no reason we should even know each other, much less "hang out" every Tuesday.  Different ethnic backgrounds, different generations, raised in different socioeconomic conditions.

But still we meet. 

And still, she offers hospitality every Tuesday afternoon.  But yesterday was special, and I pray will be our new normal.

I started talking with Miss Annie and her son at about 4:30 pm.  How are you feeling?  How's it going?  Anybody come see you last week?  Then I ask her if we can talk about the Bible some.

I've been trying to think of ways to be really, really clear on the gospel.  I've tried good methods that just don't work in this context.  So this week I started with the simplest method I knew: the Bad News/Good News method (from www.evantell.org). 

Then someone walked in and we lost our train of thought for a second.  I started back over.  Then someone walked in and we shared pleasantries with them, and I started back over.  Then others would come through, come in and out, listen some and then leave, etc.  I must've started over a dozen times, every time someone new would enter the room.

But the time it was 6 pm we had a living room full of 11 people, and we were having a genuine gospel-centered Bible study.  Whoo hoo!

 I shared this simple message:

Bad News
1. We are all sinners - Romans 3:23
2. Our sin separates us from God - Romans 6:23

Good News
1. Christ died for us - Romans 5:8
2. You can be saved through faith in Christ - Ephesians 2:8-9

Now, for all you theologians out there, I know there was a lot more I could have shared.  I know there might be better ways to share the gospel.  I know, I know.  We'll get to that stuff once we hit the basics, I promise.  For now, the basics are really what matters most.

Are you sure you're in God's kingdom?  Are you sure you've put your trust in what Christ did on the Cross to cover your sins?  Are you trusting in yourself or in Jesus to get you to heaven?

These are big questions.  And we had a great time bantering back and forth about them last night.  It feels good to share good news with friendly neighbors who let you in their home.  And it breaks my heart out of love for them, that they, too, might find the hope, joy, and purpose that comes from knowing and following Jesus.  I challenged them to learn the 4 parts of the Bad News/Good News.  We practiced it.  And next week, I pray that her living room will fill up again...and maybe, just maybe, that Good News will change lives.

How could something so simple be so profound?  Yet that ridiculously simple message has defined and changed my life forever.  I reckon it can change theirs - and yours - too.

If you'd like to know more about doing obedience-based discipleship in people's homes, feel free to contact me at launch150@gmail.com.

A Few Inches from Death

Alright, the title is a bit dramatic.  But the truth is, the young man I talked to tonight has a bullet lodged inside his body that could have killed him if it had entered a few inches one direction or the other.  He was shot just a couple of weeks ago, and he's healthy now and says he's in no pain.  But it's too dangerous to take the bullet out.

When I went to the car and asked for him (another friend had already told me he was in there), his friends lied and procrastinated, trying to cover for him, like they didn't know where he was. Imagine that. You're a young man, probably not even in your twenties, and it's too dangerous for people to know your name and where you are. Imagine the fear of another bullet...and the shame of ever letting others know you're afraid.

"Where would you have gone if the bullet had killed you?" I asked.

"Heaven, I guess."

I went on to share briefly the good news that Jesus died for all of us, and that we're all messed up, but God loves us and wants us to be with him.  We can be in His Kingdom through simply repentance and faith in Jesus.

The guys in the car needed to go get some food.  I told them about our Wednesday driveway Bible study, and invited them to join us.

"I don't care what you do; I don't care what you've done," I said, "Just join with us and learn something about God."


So tonight's study didn't go as expected.  My person of peace wasn't even there.

Please pray that he will be there next week, along with his girlfriend, her mama, and the young men in that car.  If just ONE of those young men or women would completely sell out to Jesus Christ, there is absolutely no telling what amazing things happen.

Pray for just one.