Day 16: Kindess Fail from Jet Blue Jess

For the record, I’m a professional writer. I write for a living and have had many great successes from it. Just kidding – like, wayyyyy kidding. Lara has a gift for, among other things, writing. It’s enviable and amazing and annoying and super. I have a gift for process improvement and auditing but there is no way to sexy that up so I’m not even trying. Before you continue reading this blog, my one ask beg is that you pretend the many grammatical errors are actually a cool new way of writing that no one has caught on to yet.

This story takes place on October 1st or as Lara’s people know it: Day 1 of Adams Acts. It’s a story that even when planned Adams Acts get disrupted, you can always see the kindness – even if it might not be your own.

My lovely parents, Rich and Carol, were in town visiting this past weekend. About lunchtime we had returned back to my 6th floor apartment from a scenic ride down the beach and back. Colin and I were discussing our gourmet lunch of ham and swiss sandwiches when my parents realized I was out of pop (soda for all you non-Michiganders). While giving them an earful of the negative effects of long term diet pop consumption, my dad (ignored me) clearly didn’t hear me and decided to walk across the street to Rite Aid to purchase some chemically sweetened goodness.

One thing you should know before we go any further is that my dad is okay. There were no broken bones or torn ligaments or painful head contusions. There was, however, enormous amount of childlike behavior from his super young looking 37 year old daughter.

About 15 minutes later my dad calls my mom. The conversation is short, less than 15 seconds, during which my mom says things like “Oh?” and “What?” and “Oh?” followed by “Yup, Bye”. Immediately upon hanging up she says “Your dad got hit by a car and is lying in the street near Rite Aid.” Quick check from my 6th floor window confirms dad is lying on the street having just been hit by a car near Rite Aid. We all run, literally sprint, out of the building and down the block. So many things racing thru my mind… How did someone hit my crosswalk law abiding father? Will there be blood? Didn’t I tell him diet pop is bad for him? 

We arrive to this group of 7 lovely bystanders who have all stopped to help my dad and naturally he is smiling – loving the attention. My dad is clearly being well taken care of for just being hit by a motor vehicle and my reaction, finger pointing and all, is to yell “Which one of you hit my dad?!”. I had to be calmed down by a motherly woman who was not my mother “Now dear, don’t get excited. Stay calm”. Colin is standing behind me and I can tell he is now more mortified by his mom’s reaction than with his gramps lying in the street.

I will spare you the details/pain/ridiculousness of my argument with a 70 year old strungout man who claimed to have witnessed my dad walking with his head down so it was clearly his fault. Needless to say it didn’t end well and by not well I mean it ended with me yelling “Bye Felicia” in front of 5 policemen, 2 EMT’s and my son – who was wishing more and more he had a different mom. (Pretty sure I get bonus points for managing to embarrass my teenager twice in a matter of minutes).

Needless to say, the day was supposed to be spent enjoying my parents' company. I had a wedding in New Jersey that night. I was going to buy a million (read: 5) people coffee on my way to the wedding. Big kind things were supposed to be happening all around me!! But instead I yelled at the people who ran to help my dad and I scared off an angry little man with my 90’s gangster movie retorts.

I sat in the ER with my dad for nearly 6 hours with a 19 inch fuzzy-screen TV, so I watched the nurses and the doctors. All at work on a Saturday afternoon - smiling at patients, honestly inquiring about their pain, helping in any way they can – in a nutshell BEING KIND.

I was tasked with picking up the police report for my parents so they could go back to Florida (possibly to never return)… So my kindness to make up for this lackluster performance of my mature adultness was to drop off cookies today to the 100th precinct in Rockaway Beach, NY for responding first to help my dad. For the rest of the month, I will make a point to thank every nurse, doctor, EMT, firefighter and police officer I cross paths with. While people like me are being poopy heads you take the time to be kind every day. 

Days 14 &15: Adoption Reunion and a JetBlue Note of Thanks

Greetings from NYC! I am going to count visiting Jay's birthparents as my primary #AdamsActs for Days 14 and 15, but we also had a few other things peppered in as well. We gave away some tokens and tickets to some kids at Chuck-E-Cheese (or the "House of the Maniac" as Jay calls it for some reason that is entirely a mystery to me.) we treated Jay's birthdad ("Pop") to breakfast and his birthmom (the lovely Miss N.) to dinner. I also refilled someone's metro card.

More than anything though, I think that this visit is ultimately a kindness for Jay. I don't know if there is a greater gift one could give to a child who was adopted, than a very clear sense of where they came from. He will know how he got those beautiful almond shaped eyes, that sort of disappear when he smiles. He will know where his beautiful brown skin came from, and he will know that his hands are an exact replica of his first father's. I think these things provide a sense of identity that is priceless. Above all, though, he will know that he is loved by all of his mommies and daddies. 

Our ability to come to NYC as frequently as we have is due to the generosity of two people. My friend Melissa, who lets me and Jay completely take over her life and apartment whenever we come to town, and my friend Jess. Jess works for JetBlue airlines and has been unbelievably generous in allowing us to use her buddy passes for super affordable flights to and from the city. 

We truly could not afford to visit Jay's birthfamily this frequently if it were not for Jessica. So, my final act of kindness for the day is that I sent an email to Jessica's supervisor bragging about their wonderfully fabulous employee. You see, Jess and I weren't even friends when she made this offer. She was following our adoption journey through this blog, and she saw a need. Then she met that need in a very tangible way. She has since become a very, very dear friend to me. So, JetBlue gets a rave review. And hopefully Jessica gets a huge raise. Or maybe at least a gold star? 

You will have the privilege of getting to know Jess a little better tomorrow as my guest blogger for Day 16, in which she shares a humorous kindness fail. I am all too familiar with the fails and, in fact, had one today. When my sweet boy handed his tokens to a little girl, she gave him a glare that said "I don't need your filthy hand-me-down tokens" and she pushed his hand away. I stifled my desire to shove her into the skee ball game, and we moved on. We had more success with a different toddler who gladly accepted his filthy tokens. 

Day 13: ATATT (All Tom All The Time) - A Guest Post

Hello.  Um.  Yeah...... I'm not so good at this.  It's Tom.

ATATT TAKEOVER

Lara had a super-busy day today.  Not only did she dominate her typical day of managing and caring for our 5 kids, all the while being gorgeous about it - but she also got a call from NPR.  Yup.  NPR.  You know, like, NPR.  NPR!  As a huge fan of their programs like All Songs Considered and Tiny Desk, I fell in love with her all over again.  Through a series of friends and neighbors someone from WXXI (Rochester's NPR affiliate) called Lara to tell her they were holding a sort of town hall on current racial issues.  Invited to this exclusive club were many leaders from our community.  This is all part of a movement to openly and honestly talk about these issues, so each of these folks who participated today can then reach out to their spheres of influence and hold similar meetings.  It's an incredible initiative and I'm so proud of Lara for her part in it.  Sidenote: ATTAT ShoutOut goes to our school district's superintendent, Jeffrey Krane, who was asked to participate in part because of his hard work with the urban-to-suburban school initiative.  

Not only did all that happen today, but Lara also had to pack up and head out with Jay to NYC for a birthparent visit this weekend.  She's on the road right now.  I assured her that everyone would rather she not write today's blog post while driving.  Living is better.  So, as a consolation prize you get me tonight.  But you also get some Lara.  I've included one of her previous posts below explaining why we as a family are all in on open adoption.

Now, how about an act of kindness from me.  I don't know if it's a surprise based on the NPR links I shared above, but my love language is mix tapes.  For real.  I don't know if this counts, but for my act of kindness to you all, I made a mix.  I think it counts, right?  I just put time, thought, and effort into it, and it's not for me.  Yeah, it counts.  I hope you like it.

Love you guys for loving Lara so much.

Yours,

ATATT

-----

We have an open adoption.

A lot of people think we are crazy.  (We also think we are crazy, but for totally different reasons.)  Actually, maintaining a relationship with our son's birthparents is one of the least crazy things we have ever done. When the alternative is withholding a relationship with people that created him, it seems insane to do anything else. Trust me, I am not being judgemental, I know that there are a million nightmare scenarios where a relationship must be withheld for the child's safety and well-being. But that's not what I am talking about.

I am talking about two people who absolutely adore their child. I am talking about a beautiful, bright, amazing young woman who created a life from scratch, and then birthed absolute perfection. She not only gave him the gift of life, she gave him the gift of a family. And for some reason that blows my mind every single day, she chose us to be that family.

I do not think of choosing open-adoption as some heroic act of mercy like some people think it is. Mercy is when we don't get punished for something, even though we deserve it . I think that is how a lot of people look at it, like birthparents lose their right to be involved if they choose to place their child for adoption.  If I gave birth to a child that I did not feel prepared to parent at the exact moment of their birth, I cannot imagine the pain of receiving a life sentence of separation from my child because of it. I honestly don't feel like we are doing anything remarkable by facilitating a relationship with Jay and his first mommy and daddy... rather, I think we have the privilege of being part of something remarkable.

We fell in love with our son's birthmama, Miss N., the moment we first spoke with her on the phone. She and I have been texting and calling and facetiming and sending pictures and videos... almost daily ever since. Yes it is a huge commitment.  Yes it is time-consuming. Yes it can sometimes be messy and enmeshed (see why I have a low tolerance for that with neighbors!?)  No, it is not easy or convenient to travel to New York City every few months to visit them. Still, it is nothing remarkable on our part.  What she did was remarkable.  She entrusted us with the life of her only son ... and we are merely reciprocating the trust and respect she showed us, even though we did nothing to deserve it.  That is called grace.  To give a blessing that someone does not deserve.

Adoption is such a sweet picture of our belief system. We actually believe that we are adopted by God, because he essentially traded in His only son so that we (ie; heinous sinners) could be made His perfect sons and daughters. That is both grace and mercy. He showed us grace in pursuing us though we did nothing to deserve such love... and He showed us mercy by not separating His perfect self from us, even though I sin enough in my sleep to warrant permanent banishment from His perfect presence.  I know how crazy this all sounds... which is why I admitted that texting my baby's birthmom is hardly the craziest thing I do.  I actually believe this Jesus stuff, and I know that makes me wacky to a lot of people.

But, here's the cool part. Because I actually believe this stuff, I get to live with a peace and a reckless abandon that nothing else in this world can give. So, sharing my son with the only other people on this planet who adore him as much as we do, is not that hard in light of my own adoption through the grace and mercy and loving kindness of my God.

On the train going to see Jay and Miss N. in the hospital when he was first born.

Photo cred: Me, but that was easy thanks to his DNA.  DNA cred: Pop and Miss N.

Day 12: The White Responsibility in Uprooting Racism

*There is some graphic language ahead, just to forewarn readers.*

When I posted this video of my youngest son, Jay, hearing with his hearing aids for the first time... I did not know that it would go viral and be at the center of a religious and racial throw down. One would think that there is hardly anything that is less scandalous than a baby getting hearing aids, but apparently... this gets people riled up! It started as a "thank God this baby can hear again" vs. "no, thank SCIENCE that this baby can hear again." 

You can watch this adorable video here:

This absurd debate on our youtube video got pretty nasty. And when anything on the internet gets nasty, it can get racial real quick. And that is precisely what happened. I would be playing Candy Land with my kids when my phone would alert me that some racist so and so thinks that I am a "nigger lover." 

Or I would be at dinner with a friend, and sure enough, buzz buzz.... so and so thinks that my kids is an "f***ing ugly retarded little monkey." 

Yes. This is happening. 

And when I tell my white friends this story, 99% of the time, their reaction is first a gasp, and then "You know you can disable those comments right?"

Yes, I do know that I can disable online comments from my video. But, that will not disable those types of comments from my boys' life, from their reality. I have the privilege (and it is a distinctly white privilege) to "disable" my awareness of racism. I have the luxury of pretending that everything is fine and equal and okay in our country. I can choose to ignore what's really going on. My black sons will not have that luxury.

My #AdamsActs for Day 12 was doing a free speaking event (with my sweet and insightful friend, Kayla) at Monroe Community College for an organization called Campus Ambassadors where I spoke about the role of white people in uprooting racism... ya know, a nice breezy topic. #dryheavingfordays We talked about the broader historical context that has created an environment where racial tensions continue to increase. We talked about systemic, institutionalized racism, covert and overt racism and racist mindsets (which we all have and need to uproot, by the way) and how these manifest themselves in our current racial climate, as well as how these things are internalized by people of color.

I count this as an act of kindness because I believe in social justice. I believe that we all need to care a little bit more. We all need to try a little bit harder. We all need to seek understanding and awareness and, frankly, we need to stop "disabling the comments." Just because we choose to, figuratively, block the comments does not mean the trolls aren't still out there. And they aren't just out there on the internet... sometimes they work in our children's schools, sometimes they are judges or lawyers or in law enforcement. Sometimes, they are politicians. Sometimes,  they are your neighbors, or your friends or your family members. Sometimes, guys, they're us. We are all capable of wrong thinking and heinous prejudicial mindsets. So, I consider it a kindness to challenge students to think differently, to become passionate about social justice, to seek wisdom and understanding.

I don't care about the growing racial tension in our country simply because two of my five children happen to be black. I care about this because if I claim to be a follower of Christ, I had better darn well have my values in line with his. And Jesus, my friends, had a heart for the oppressed. As a Christ-follower it is my role, my responsibility, and my heritage to care for the poor, the weak, the outcasts, the imprisoned... and the oppressed. Jesus engaged with the sick, with women and with ethnic "outsiders" in a way that was considered radical for his time. He was a revolutionary. And I want to be a revolutionary. I don't want to stick to that old script of lies that says "we are all equal" and "if you work hard enough" and "we don't see color."

All of that is essentially garbage guys, because it's just not true. So, maybe some won't consider this a kindness, maybe some will think I am race baiting, or stirring up trouble. But I am doing these acts of kindness in memory of my big brother, and I am certain that this would have made him proud. As a high school student, he won a Martin Luther King, Jr. essay contest, and his message was not only unusual for a young, white, suburban kid of his age, but exceptionally insightful. Plus, I am really tired and I don't feel good and I honestly just want to go to bed. So, I am just asking that you hear my heart on this. Things aren't good out there people. And we can change it. We can stop ascribing socioeconomic problems to race. Violence, gangs, drugs... these things are not "black people" problems.  These are poverty problems. Anyone in an impoverished environment is equally susceptible to these issues. These issues are a result of limited resources, poor education, and a lack of support. If they seem to affect black folks more than white, then please understand that it's because there is a 300 year history in this country of limited resources and worse education for people of color. 

There are many wonderful resources out there to help us better comprehend the impact of systemic racism. There are many fantastic black churches you can attend to develop relationships, bridge gaps, and to deepen your understanding of black culture and to grow your empathy for the plight of an entire people group in our nation. Just try. Do something. Attempt to understand. And when you have an opportunity to "disable the comments," choose not to. Choose to walk alongside your black brothers and sisters, with your eyes and mind wide open and aware. Only then, collectively, can we begin to truly disable racism. 

Day 11: Donating blood is the new speed dating

When my daughter London was 15 months old, we discovered that she had a rare form of bone marrow failure called Transient Erythroblastopenia of Childhood. Don't feel bad if you've never heard of it. If you asked my husband what London was diagnosed with, he would stare blankly at your face for an uncomfortable amount of time. And then whisper-mumble something unintelligible under his breath. Then walk away real fast before you could ask any follow up questions.

We are aware that we were extremely fortunate that her condition was transient and therefore short-lived, so he never really had to remember what it was that caused our little baby girl's body to spontaneously stop producing red blood cells. A series of life-saving blood transfusions bought her the time she needed for her body to kick back in with making red blood cells. I will never forget how different she looked and acted after she got her first round of transfusions. She had been so pale and sickly, that post-transfusion she honestly looked like she had a spray tan. 

Before blood transfusions

After! (Enjoy these fancy special effects, because it took me the better part of an hour to figure out.)

We know so many children and adults who's lives have been saved, or prolonged, because of blood transfusions. So for Day 11, I donated blood for the first time at the American Red Cross! I have attempted to donate many times, but have been denied for various reasons - pregnancies, surgeries, tattoos, travel, not reaching the weight limit (unless I just had a baby, which brings us back to disqualifier #1). But, I've been working out, so I am officially weighing in as an adult and my uterus has been closed for business for many years now. No fresh tats, no surgeries, and no travel to questionable regions. So, today I was a first-time blood donor! 

Here are a few things you should know about blood donation. 

1. The lady checking you in was probably born in the 1800's, so speak up when you spell your name.
2. They give you gummies when you're done.

That's really all you need to know. Oh, and...

       3. Blood donation saves lives.

If that doesn't do it for ya, then it's okay to do it just for the gummies. 

I was a little nervous going in because they ask you so many questions about how scandalous your history is, that even the most wholesome donor ends up feeling a little like a promiscuous drug dealer. But, all the surveys were really the most tedious part. After that, they impale you with a needle that's about as big around as a string cheese. (This is a slight exaggeration for the sake of humor and a little bit of pity.) Then they bag up your blood and it's really not that bad honestly. But, spoiler alert, you face feels numb if you go in dehydrated.

Viewer discretion is advised, because I did take a picture of my blood bag.

And then I made the phlebotomist take a picture with me. I'm pretty sure she wanted to poke me with another needle, just for asking her to do a selfie with me. 

For my final special effect, I gave us a spray tan too with this weird orange filter. 

And then I wrote #AdamsActs on my bandaid. With my left hand. And a numb face. So, it looks like a toddler did it. 

That says #AdamsActs (in toddler.)

Two quick updates for you before I sign off. First, the snack drive for David's Refuge is a success so far! Thank you to the people who made deliveries today!! And second, we did hear back from The Craigslist-Nutella-Breakup-Kid. He read the blog and said he actually thought it was really great what we were doing, and instead of accepting our Nutella donation to his cause, he requested that we donate that money to a homeless shelter. Sara is going to live in regret for leaving that one. He's smart, he's funny, he cares about homeless people, he hates video games and he loves chocolate!

If you are single and lookin' to mingle... and this guy matches your dream guy description, we may be able to make introductions. I hear a great first date is attending a blood drive.

It's like speed dating, but with gummies. 

Day 10: Random Snacks of Kindness

About two years ago, my husband and I made the difficult decision to open up about a private struggle that had our family in a state of crisis. We opened ourselves up to a bit of scrutiny in order to get our family the help we needed, and to be a resource to other families who often struggle privately. We shared our story in this video: 

Our lives changed significantly after we began actively seeking treatment for our son. It has been an all-consuming journey toward helping our family heal and is likely going to be a life-long process is many ways.

I can not adequately express the exhaustion and sense of discouragement that so many parents experience while parenting a child with special needs. And that is why Day 10 of #AdamsActs is so near and dear to my heart.

For the rest of October, I will be taking donations on behalf of David's Refuge which is an incredible organization with which I am looking forward to becoming more involved. Their mission is to provide a place of respite (free of charge) for parents and guardians of children with special needs or life threatening medical conditions. They seek to provide a weekend experience where they will be refreshed, restored, and renewed in their role as caregivers. 

David’s Refuge has one primary objective, to allow parents and other caregivers much needed time to rest, reflect and recharge from the stress of full time care giving. They strive to have caregivers come away from this time of respite understanding three things: that they are not alone, what they do matters, and there is a God who loves them.

David's Refuge provides weekend getaways to parents who need their hope to be restored. Parents of children with special needs often walk a long, lonely and tumultuous road, and I know from personal experience how isolating it can be. Which is why I am so excited to invite you to bring candy to my house. 

I swear, it's not just for me! 

Part of the weekend away at a B&B for these couples, is that they are provided with a little basket of goodies. Parents can choose between a sweet basket, a savory one, or both. (I'd vote both because why do I gotta be choosing between snacks? I want all of it.)   For the remainder of October, I will have a donation bin on my front porch to collect basket items for these weary care givers.

Here are some specific donation requests for their gift baskets:

• Small bags of chips or popcorn (snack size)
• Beef Jerky
• Crackers
• Trail mix
• Gummy Bears
• M&M's
• Chocolate Bars
• Wine
• Granola
• Gum

I got the donation party started with this lonely, pathetic chocolate bar. But, at least there is that little piece of pasta on my floor for the whole world to see. #housekeepingfail #always

So, here's how it's gonna go down... if you know where I live, drop things off any time. If you live in the Rochester, NY area (and are not a creepy pervert) contact me through Facebook message, or through the contact section of this bangin' new website. If you do not live in Rochester, but would like to contribute, you can also contact me for my mailing address to mail donations to me. (Remember though, pervs need not apply.) If all of that sounds like too much trouble, or you are a little bit of a creep so are not eligible for this particular challenge) you can donate directly to DavidsRefuge.org.

Caring for the people we love is really hard, even when they are healthy. But caring for a child that is medically fragile, or has a set of needs that is so unique that they require specialized care... this is a different kind of hard. It's so good. It's so right. But, it is also really, really hard. This little donation bin isn't going to make their lives any easier. I am aware of that. But, what I hope to do is help one organization who is trying to lighten the load for these families... even if it is just for a weekend. And a weekend of hope and respite makes life just a little bit sweeter.

Or more savory. Or both. 

Days 8 & 9 - How to Help Haiti & the Homeless (Without Hurting)

I forgot to mention that sometimes on the weekends I will double up two days in one post because I am only one woman, people! I am not a machine! I'm kidding, I absolutely am a machine. Seriously though, I love the blogging, but there will be some days this month that adding the blog into a crazy day will be the thing that pushes me right over the edge of clinical insanity. As a kindness to my family, I will just give you a BOGO kindness event.

So, here were are... Buy Day 8, and get Day 9 for free. 

For Days 8 and 9, we contributed above our usual weekly tithe because our incredible church had special plans for the offering this week. Northridge believes that the local church should serve the city they are in, and should also serve the world. Our church has made an incredible impact through generously giving to worthy causes both in and around Rochester, and globally. Our mission is to "help without hurting." Ten percent of the offering this week, along with an additional $10,000 from the mission fund, will go to help World Concern in their hurricane relief for the beautiful people of Haiti. This is one of the reasons we attend Northridge Church, it is filled with people who live out what they claim to believe, and as a church, we give BIG. Or rather, we give small, but collectively, we are able to do immeasurably more than any of us could individually. I cannot wait to see what the grand total is that we are able to give to help the survivors in Haiti to rebuild, yet again. 

To help Haiti without hurting, you too can make a donation HERE.

For Day 9, we delivered hot pizzas, drinks and dessert to homeless people. 

There seem to be an abundance of homeless people, when I do not have an enormous stack of pizzas to deliver. However, as luck would have it, the homeless just scatter when I happen to be armed with fresh pizza for the taking. But, we were relentless and we found many recipients who clearly needed, and appreciated, a hot meal and a hug.

Tensions run slightly higher than normal between Tom and I when we are looking for homeless people. You cannot really argue with Tom because he is seriously the nicest. But, something happens on the mission to feed the hungry. Tom gets paranoid that we will offend someone that isn't actually homeless. He has a strict rule that he will not stop for anyone who isn't sitting on cardboard, or isn't holding a cardboard sign. There MUST BE CARDBOARD. If cardboard isn't involved, then Tom ain't riskin' it. 

"What about that guy?" I say. "Nope, no cardboard." Tom replies.

"How about that guy, pushing all his worldly possessions around in a grocery cart?" I inquire.

"Just because he has a lot of soda cans doesn't necessarily mean he's homeless," he explains, "cardboard is really the only way to know for sure."

"We have five pizzas left, honey, can we flex on the cardboard thing?" I plead.

"Okay, but... at least look for a lot of garbage bags." 

We strike a deal. As long as I lead with a non-presumptuous "Hey, have you had lunch yet?" then I am permitted to approach anyone who looks homeless, and is holding a bag of garbage. 

I would absolutely recommend that every one of you do this at least once in your life, and if it is possible, bring a child with you. Just grab any kid you can find, and change their perspective forever. (To see one of our pizza deliveries, click HERE.) My kids watched this young man run across the street and devour the pizza with a sense of urgency and obvious relief, practically hiding himself behind a tree along the highway. I was barely back in the car before he was digging in with a huge smile on his face. My six year old daughter, London, was so overcome with emotion as she watched this scene unfold, you could hear the revelation in her voice when she said, "It's just so beautiful and precious." When we finally let the kids eat their pizza, she said how grateful she was to have it. 

I know people have differing opinions on what it looks like to help the homeless population without hurting. Handing out money can enable addictions, that is true. It's not always the case, but sure, that does happen. Some people are just hustling, and they are actually working the system and banking money. Yeah, that's also possible. But, as far as I can tell, nobody stayed homeless because someone handed them an oatmeal creme pie. So, I think that this is a safe way to help without hurting.

Here are a few things I have learned over the past few years about helping the homeless:

1. Due to the lack of consistent dental hygiene, many people have sore or missing teeth. So, stick to softer foods that are easy to chew - bread, soft cereal bars, pudding, applesauce, even pizza. :) Avoid foods like apples. A lot of people cannot eat raw apples. 
2. Keep clean socks in your car. The health of your feet is of utmost importance when you spend your life walking from place to place. Limited access to showers or fresh socks can often lead to foot issues and pain. 
3. Chapstick, disposable toothbrushes, trial size deodorant, and other small personal hygiene essentials are very helpful. And don't forget to supply the ladies during that "extra special' time of the month. Can you imagine dealing with all that on the streets? 
4. Some helpful items we may not think about are large, sturdy ziplock bags, a waterproof tarp, hats and gloves, rain poncho, and those rubber shoe cover things that protect shoes from water. 
5. Touch them. Living on the fringe of society often means these people are overlooked. If you are invisible, you are probably not being affectionately cared for. So look into people's eyes, say good morning, ask how they feel, ask if there is anyone you can call for them. Give them a hug, touch their shoulder, hold their hand. Ask what their name is. Ask if they'd like to tell you how they ended up on the street. Ask if they need to go to the hospital. If you can, sit and eat a meal with them. Treat them like an equal, with value and a little dignity. 
6. Expect to see a lot of mental illness. Contrary to what most people believe, a large majority of homeless people are in that position because of mental health problems. Expect a lot of confusion. Just be compassionate, and let them swear a little because they think you want to steal their cat. (They don't have a cat.) Just tell them you love them and get then get the crap outta there. 
7. Remember that it could be you. I try to remember that with each lost soul I see, that I am not better. I am just as capable of losing my mind. I am just as capable of losing everyone I love in some freak tragedy. I am just as capable of making a terrible choice that leads me down a path of destruction. I am not better. You are not better. We all need Jesus. So don't judge, don't make assumptions, just help without hurting and be grateful for your pizza.  

Day 7: Picture Perfect Challenge

One week down y'all! #AdamsActs has been a crazy success this year with over 14,000 hits on the blog, 10,000 of them being unique viewers! (If you don't know what a unique viewer is, don't feel bad because I just found out. In fact, I was a little offended because I like to think of all my viewers as unique.) What it really means is that about 10,000 people read the blog for the first time ever. I don't know 10,000 people so that means that the hashtag is working, the shares are working, and all the #AdamsActs you are doing in your communities ARE WORKING! 

People are catching the kindness in India, Scotland, France, Canada, Germany, UK, Brazil, Zambia, Portugal and the Netherlands! We even have one reader from Bahrain. Which... I had to Google. 

I am so thankful for each and every like, share, comment, post and act of kindness. I know a lot of you feel like it's wrong to share what you are doing to be kind, but I want to push back on that for a second. Trust me, I don't recommend shouting from the roof top every time you do something kind all year long... but, when we share what we are doing and why, it really does become a movement. So maybe consider shouting it from the roof top, just for the next few weeks and see who else you can inspire to be more kind, more generous, more charitable, more thoughtful and more intentionally focused on loving and serving others.

For Day #7 I helped out with school picture day at Harper and London's school. When I was London's age, my mom was subbing in my school building on picture day. The result of this once in a lifetime picture day opportunity is this fantastic photo of me, hovering over my mother's shoulder. Like a ghost. With puffy sleeves.

Me and Hurricane Sandi, circa 1986? Or was it '87? I don't know. Circa whenever this amazing plaid scarfbow was hot. 

Unfortunately, I was not permitted to do a mother-daughter session at school picture day today... but so as not to disappoint any unique viewers, I decided to pull out as many old studio pictures as I could. For some reason, I don't have a single school pic of my sister BethAnn, which is a shame because she was probably the most photogenic of any of us children. But, I did find one sister photo that features her shining Dorothy Hamill bow cut in a way that I believe will make her feel as honored as the rest of us.

Let's start with my oldest sister Kristin.

She still wears this dress to this very day. 

And the piece de resistance... 

This looks like her son Eli, with pearls and eyeshadow. At least all the feathering never goes out of style. 

My brother Adam, as sweet-faced as they come, was not exempt from bad hairstyles either.  

Just comb it straight into the eye bud, just keep combing. 

Does it get any cuter?  

Just love.

Again, I don't have individual school pictures of my sister BethAnn, so these will have to suffice. 

I coveted Kristin's cow suit for my entire childhood. And now you are. Doesn't feel good does it?  

Have you ever seen such a stark contrast in the amount of time spent on two children in the same photograph. Dorothy Hamill over there with her perfectly curled bowl... And me, on the left, apparently just finished up a successful round of dumpster diving. I'll have you know, I gave myself that haircut. Apparently Hurricane never saw fit to touch it up.  

And now it's only fair to reveal some of my school pics.  

Flat brim trucker hat, high waisted paints. All before they were cool. #settingtrends  

The above picture was taken shortly after Adam convinced me I needed to let him "shave my sideburns." The term "sideburns," as it turns out, was code for any hair  that didn't get tucked behind your ear, no matter how long it was.

By this time, I let my sideburns grow out. I was still cutting my own hair, but I had gotten better at it.  

So there you go. Some awkward school photos in honor of volunteering at school picture day! I challenge all of you to share your own awkward school/sports/dance photo in the comments, because sometimes being able to laugh at yourself and let other laugh with you, is the best kindness to give. And as always don't forget to #Adamscts!  

P.S. In case anyone reading this feels sorry for BethAnn for not having school pics, I offer you one final photograph to prove that I was, in fact, the most neglected in the group. Please note my fuzzy, middle-parted rat mullet, the curly turtle neck/suspender combo, double chin and a black eye for good measure.

Day 6: A Little Motivation To Work Out

Earlier this week I shared that I recently retired from my little accessory business. The one thing that I am going to miss is that moment when I get to respond to someone who says to me "oh these are really cute, but I couldn't pull it off."

Well not with that attitude.

That's when I get to show them all the ways to wear a headband that look supes adorbsies. Then I get to say things like "supes adorbsies" out loud, and in a context that begs for such expressions. And I get to make people feel beautiful. And I'm really gonna miss that. I mean, I know that shifting over to a speaking and writing career ensures that I will still get to say plenty of obnoxious things out loud, but I will miss teaching an insecure 12 year old girl how to pull her own hair up and make it look pretty and effortless. Not because I think young girls need to value their appearance more but because I think that feeling pretty should be effortless, especially when you're twelve. I like to help people realize that they are more beautiful, more powerful, more brave and more capable than they ever dared hope. And I like to convince them that they are those things RIGHT NOW. Not "I used to be..." or "someday I will be..." but that we possess immeasurable value right this very minute. 

It's easy to look at a picture of ourselves from back in the day and think, "man, I wish I was as cute as I was back then." The problem is that we didn't think we were cute back then either. I am definitely guilty of this photo dysmorphia phenomenon. Tom once called me out on it. He said "Lara, you can look at a picture of yourself from a half hour ago and still think you used to look better."

Ugh. I'm so sick of my husband being a mentally stable, wise old sage of a man. 

I believe in both diligently pursuing growth, and also learning self-acceptance in the process. God himself created man and said we were "very good." He never said a darn thing about how we used to be cute. He just adored us as he made us. BUT, he doesn't let us stay where we are, either. If we think about God as the perfect parent, then this is very easy to grasp. Whether you are a parent or not, you have most likely experienced that pure, uninhibited love for a new baby. You just LOVE them. Based on nothing. They have zero accomplishments apart from coming out of a uterus, and they can hardly take credit for that achievement. We love them before they DO anything, because we love what they are. We just love that they are.

But, that doesn't mean we don't teach them to do things, or to become things. When you love a baby, you equip them and empower them and challenge them to strive for the next milestone. And we love children whether they meet the milestone or not, but we are always holding their hands and encouraging that next step.

This is how God sees you. And me. We are just a bunch of big, useless babies trying to stumble around and get some things right. God loves us just as we are, just because we are. But, he also grabs hold of our sticky little hands and guides us sweetly toward the next step of faith.

My #AdamsActs for Day 6 is one of my favorite kindnesses from previous years, and is one I look forward to every year! Leaving little notes of encouragement in the locker room at the gym is perfect for this phenomenon because, to me,  the gym is such a tangible and physical example of this spiritual truth... of both accepting ourselves (and even appreciating ourselves) in our current state, but also, not settling in and staying stagnant where we are. My sister, Kristin recently sent me this quote:

Day 6 - notes at the gym to encourage all the masterpieces who are working out their progress.

Unless you are naturally thin and weak like me, then embrace that too! Your motto can be something like "clavicles are the new curves!" 

It doesn't matter if a few people don't like one of VanGogh's paintings... anything he paints is extremely valuable, just because it bears the artists name.  As an image-bearer of God, it really doesn't matter where you are at in your process, you are a masterpiece because you were created by a master. Bearing his name is what gives you value.

Day 5: Craigslist Kindness

Day 5 needs no intro. The following exchange is so good, that half of my #AdamsActs for today is simply sharing the hilarity with you all. The other half, is a little Nutella to soothe an aching heart. My friend Nan came over today and brought me some amazing little Nutella rolls.

They were the bomb diggities, and for realz, I ate no substantial food today. Just slammed roll after delicious roll.

I had the healing powers of Nutella on my mind already, when Tom discovered this Craiglist Ad:

Can you believe this chick Sara would break up with someone like this guy? I, for one, cannot. So, Tom responds:

We will keep you posted as this Nutella/Wii/Sara saga unfolds, but I think that this guy is going to find what he's looking for. This has to be, by far, my most RANDOM, random act of kindness. 

Day 4: To Give of Yourself

Today’s #AdamsActs were so enjoyable they felt almost selfish really. To start the day, I took some friends out for breakfast. This is the first time in about 13 years that I have only one child home with me, so I actually have a little bit of freedom and flexibility during the day. So, going out while the sun is out with other adults is a luxury that I forgot even existed for some people, and it felt nearly indulgent to do such a thing. I treated two amazing women to a breakfast that was so good, that I could hardly call it a sacrifice.

First, the company. My friend Lexi has been an unbelievable support to me. During some very hard seasons in the past 7 years, this girl has stood my side so faithfully. She is always encouraging me, serving our family in a hundred different ways, and perpetually nagging me into being productive. For all those years of friendship, she gets rewarded with a breakfast sandwich.

Lexi and I drove out to pick up our friend Karolin, and I don’t even know where to begin with that one. This girl is one of the strongest people I know. She’s one of those people who is loved by everyone who has the privilege of knowing her. She has a great sense of humor (a major pre-requisite to be one of my favorites), a passion for teaching, and a heart for under-funded city schools, a gift with children, a steadfastness in Christ that I have rarely seen lived out in all different seasons of life… the seasons of abundance and comfort, as well as the trials.

And trust me when I tell you that Karolin’s faith has been put to the test though trial after trial. I have watched her in awe as she has navigated some unfathomable hardships with a quiet strength that I am certain I will never possess in this lifetime. Her unwavering faith has been an example to me for many years, but particularly these past three and a half years as she has battled multiple bouts of Leukemia.

She recently found out that the cancer returned (the first relapse since receiving her bone marrow transplant) making this time around particularly discouraging. Still. Karolin spends her time reassuring others. Her relentless peace and trust in God in the face of much adversity continues to make an impression on all who come into contact with her, and I am so fortunate that I get to be one of those people.

An act of kindness for me would be for all of you to offer up all the prayers you can muster for this remarkable friend of mine who has been fighting leukemia like a boss for far too long. I’d also challenge those of you who are not yet registered to be a bone marrow donor, to do so. It is a very simple process and all the information can be found at bethematch.org

I remember, when I was only ten years old, my brother asked me to sign as the witness for his application to become an organ donor. I remember thinking it was so odd that a 16 year old kid would take the initiative to think through that decision and feel strongly enough about being an organ donor that he would fill out an application and have his kid sister sign it for him. Just one year later at the age of 17, saving and improving the lives of others through organ donation was Adam’s final act of kindness. Register to be an organ donor to let life come out of death, register to be a bone marrow donor to help warriors like Karolin beat this ugly disease, donate blood, donate money to a cause or a local church, donate your time by volunteering… these are all really tangible ways for us to, literally and figuratively, give of ourselves

My last two acts of kindness were simply giving an extra generous tip to our server, and buying a hot tea for Kayla, a college student with whom I had a meeting this afternoon. She and I have a big challenge ahead of us, so we are collaborating to solve all the world’s problems - by next week. It’s a big undertaking, I’m not gonna lie. I won’t get into all the nitty gritty of it just now, but let me just say that if we all served others the way my friend Lexi does, and if we all bravely faced our fears and loved others without discrimination the way my friend Karolin does, and if we all had the foresight and intentionality to be kind, even in our death, like my brother Adam did… then I have a feeling Kayla and I wouldn’t have such a big job ahead of us.

Day 3: 20 random acts of kindness to try this month

Before we get into Day 3, we need to make sure that everyone is caught up. If you are just joining us, you really must go back to Day 1 to have some context here. If you skip Day 2, I'm okay with that because I basically just vomited my fear of rejection onto all of the unsuspecting readers, but the first day is a non-negotiable. 

Okay, did you do it? Are you all caught up?? Great, welcome to Day 3!

As we go into this month, I know it can be intimidating to come up with new ideas every day. (I'm the one who has to blog about these things though, so I don't feel that bad for you.) But here's the thing... you can do the EXACT SAME THING EVERY DAY and it will still be amazing. This is how I know... if someone gave me a candy bar, every day, I wouldn't be like "umm excuse me, you were kind in this way yesterday, could you please change it up??" Nobody is going to say that, unless they are jerks. And if they are jerks, they probably need the repetitive kindness more than anyone. Still, I do understand that coming up with fresh kindnesses can feel daunting! So, part of Day 3 will be a helpful list of kindnesses to choose from.

I call this... 

A CORNUCOPIA OF KINDNESS! (I am not good with technology, but picture those words brightly colored and slowly getting bigger on the screen while Bob Barker says it in his best Price is Right game show voice.) Or at least imagine that the font is bigger. Either way.

Where was I? Oh yes, my very helpful list!

A CORNUCOPIA OF KINDNESS

1. Tape coupons to items in the store for a surprise discount. 
2. Send an encouraging note in the mail to someone you haven't connected with in a while.
3. Apologize for that thing you still feel bad about.
4. Pay for someone's gas, meal, groceries.
5. Tip generously.
6. Order and pay for a dessert for another table at a restaurant.
7. Keep granola bars in your car or purse to hand out to homeless people.
8. Organize a blanket drive and donate them to a shelter.
9. Never think a compliment. If you think something positive, say it out loud.
10. Write thank you notes for people who are often overlooked - custodial staff at your office, garbage man, night shift workers, gas station attendants, security guards, etc.
11. Offer an elderly neighbor on hour of your time to help change light bulbs, put up decorations, get something down from the attic, etc.
12. Leave a treat for mail carrier in your mail box.
13. Scrape someone's windshield/shovel walkway/rake leaves/share an umbrella.
14. Leave a heartfelt voicemail for someone who is lonely.
15. Check in on somebody going through a hard time.
16. Offer to babysit for a mom with young kids.
17. Surprise a friend at work with coffee or a treat.
18. Help single parent with chores or errands.
19. Call someone who is going through a divorce, just to listen and encourage them.
20. Make me homemade jam.

For more ideas, check out the #AdamsActs section of the website, where you will find hundreds of ideas! These really don't have to be big things. If some small irritation can make our day harder, then a small kindness can make our day better as well. Here's the thing, the way my brother lived his life was a series of small kindnesses. He wasn't some baller spending tons of money buying everyone round after round of chicken wings on him. Rather, he danced with the shy girl in the hallway after the Junior High school dance. Just so she knew that he saw her. He stood up for kids who were getting picked on in school. Just so they didn't feel alone. He let me, his pesty little sister, tag along with him after his soccer games. Just so I would feel special. (Orrrrr because the girls in his class thought I was cute. Okay... so maybe this one in particular wasn't purely for my sake.) But you get the idea. It doesn't take much to make someone feel noticed, appreciated, loved. Small things, guys, small things. 

For my Day 3, I brought a meal to a family who is currently undergoing a huge life transition. Even good transition brings a lot of stress and disruption to a family, so I offered to take this one thing off their mind for a night. I had Tom take this very candid photo of me and my meal I just whipped right up.

Okay fine, that's not me, that's Rachel Ray. But my meal did look that good. Okay fine, it was a run of the mill pot roast. Or "pot grosst" as my kids call it. It was hot, comfort food though so that's good enough. Remember, small things people! A big shout out to my second-in-command, my three year old son, Jay. He was super helpful. And by helpful I mean that he stood on a stool and smelled the potatoes for about 30 seconds straight, loudly proclaimed that they were "still fresh!" and sprinted away wearing nothing but a pajama top and his underwear. Both on backwards.

Day 2: An Embarrassment of Confessions and Kindness

Guys, mama’s got some emotional baggage to unpack. I know what you’re thinking, yesterday was heavy enough, right? Can’t we just get to the funny stuff? Trust me, nobody would like for me to be mentally stable more than me. (Except maybe my husband, Tom.) Just be patient, because I accidentally stabbed my friend today, so we will get to the humor in a minute. But, first… I have a secret that I have to get off my chest.

I struggle big time with shame.

I’m not talking your run of the mill mom-guilt. I’m not talking about sincere and appropriate remorse when I do something wrong. I am talking about disproportionate and painful humiliation for things that I have no control over. Quick example… I shared Day One to Facebook yesterday and while it was re-posted over 100  times and elicited an overwhelmingly positive response and a couple thousand people took the time to go to the website to read the blog, my post and any shared posts were somehow deleted from Facebook. This happens right? Someone marks something as spam, maybe on accident, maybe on purpose. Someone doesn’t want to be tagged in something, so they report it as offensive, intentionally or not. It could have been an honest mistake, or someone could have genuinely found the content to be offensive. I mean, kindness is pretty scandalous and controversial.

However it happened isn’t the point, it was my reaction to what happened. I felt a deep, searing sense of mortification. Not that my post disappeared. Not that there was a little hiccup on day one.

I was mortified about who I am.

This is terribly embarrassing to admit, but if I don’t do anything else of significance this month, I will at the very least tell you the truth. And this is the ugly truth… When things go south, my first instinct is to sort of hate myself. I immediately launch into some inner dialogue about how bad I am, or how stupid it was to think this was a good idea, or how embarrassing it is to be vulnerable about my personal life, and, and, and…

I realize how dramatic this sounds. It is ridiculously dramatic. I feel like a needy and insecure middle school girl even admitting this, which is probably what I am on the inside half the time. It’s not only pathetic in and of itself, it’s also really selfish. It’s selfish because I am surrounded with as much love and support as any one person possibly could be. It’s selfish because it is an entirely self-focused reaction to life’s circumstances. It’s selfish because believing that I am trash is like spitting in the face of the God who created me.

I am a work in progress. And I want to be honest about that process because that’s what this blog, and my whole life really, is all about. I believe that God redeems, that he longs to make all things new. Including our baggage. Including our selfishness. Including my temporary insanity, and my misplaced sense of identity. Including me, and you, in our current, broken, messy state.

For Day Two, I wanted to celebrate the sentiment of newness. I recently retired from my little business called Piccadilly Rose, where I would take old, discarded fabrics and make them into one of a kind accessories. More than I loved creating headbands, I loved the idea of taking something that has been rejected or abandoned and making it into something beautiful. I have decided to stop the business so that I can solely focus on the growing opportunity to do writing and speaking full time. So, while I will no longer be making trash into treasure, that is the very work that God does in me every day, and it continues to be the undercurrent of this new endeavor of writing and speaking.

Our church recently hired a new pastor. He and his wife have an adorable little two year old peanut who always has her hair done up in some sort of bow or headband. Since I am retiring from the headband business, I thought I would spread a little accessory love from my dwindling inventory to welcome the new pastor’s family. (True confession: I didn’t think I would like the new guy, because I loved the old guy so much. But, what can ya do. They’re great. So they get headbands.) Speaking of being mortified about who I am as a person, as I was delivering the headbands to OUR NEW PASTOR, I accidentally said the phrase “feminine hygiene products.” You see what I’m working with here? How can I NOT struggle with shame? #nofilter

I am also bringing some baby headbands to another little sweetie from our church. (I will not mention sanitary napkins this time, I swear. Except I probably will. Ugh, I can’t be stopped.)  Anyhow, we have an incredible Director of Outreach and he and his wife inspire me on a daily basis with their incredible heart for foster care, adoption, racial and social justice. So, the newest addition to their family will also get some baby swag from the going-out-of-business event.

So today, I honor my brother’s life by telling a hard truth, by letting God love me and heal me into a better version of myself, and celebrating what is new. New families, new beginnings, new friendships, new life. It is the business of God to make all things new. I know I have said it a million times, but until I am so secure in that truth that I no longer spiral into a selfish fit of insecurity… I will keep preaching it from the rooftops, to you and to myself.

Oh, yes, the humor! I almost forgot!!

I stabbed my friend Ben today.

This photo was for reenactment purposes only, no Bens were harmed during the taking of this picture. He was only harmed the first time, when I actually stabbed him.  

Day 1: The Hardest Story I Never Told

The night my brother died has a sort of gravitational pull in my life that I find difficult to explain. I don’t know if it was the violent nature of his death, or its suddenness, or if this is simply how survivors keep time. I am not sure, but I know that it is how I remember things, how I orient every memory. Everything that has happened in my life is somehow filed in my brain as either before, or after.

And so, though I always feel a little self-conscious about the redundancy of posting this same story, word for word, each year, I feel that I must. Because it is the beginning. It is how I have kept time for so long, and it is the moment that held such gravity for my family that all the other moments in my life have oriented themselves around it all on their own. It marks the end of my childhood and the beginning of my faith. It marks the start and finish of so many things that nothing I write this month would make a lick of sense if I didn’t start there. Again.

At Day 1. 

----

I am going to tell you a story. 

I haven't done this before, told this story, so detailed and so publicly.  But, I am going to try something big this month, and I think I need to tell this story in order to do it well.  So, here goes nothin...

It was Halloween night many years ago, and my 17 year old brother, Adam H. Provencal, was driving home from the Regional Championship Soccer game.  He was a senior in high school and the captain of the soccer team, and this victory was worth celebrating, and it was news worth spreading for our small Michigan town.

When my brother (and his friend Mike) were driving home and passed some of their friends out playing some harmless Halloween pranks, it was the perfect time to spread the news.  So Adam pulled the car over and was telling his friends about the big victory.  I have no idea what my brother was thinking or feeling in that moment but, my guess, is freedom. I imagine a boy - crazy about sports, working so hard to maintain his 4.0 GPA in mostly advanced placement classes, editor-in-chief of the nationally recognized school paper, and all-around nice guy - and the pressure that that brings on a kid. I imagine him in this moment, and the hard work (for now) is done and has paid off with a regional championship.  And he's free.  He is young and free, and he wants to tell to his friends.

So, he pulls over and he and his friends are joking around and talking and hanging out, and they are young and free in this moment.

The whimsical youth of the moment ends when a homeowner comes out and is irate about the pranks and, though my brother had not been involved in them, he had the car and perhaps that made him seem to be the ringleader somehow.  I don't really know if that was why Adam felt the need to go to the door or not, but he did.  He decided he would walk up to the door, to apologize for being there and to offer to clean up the toilet paper in the yard, and he no longer felt young and free. He was probably terrified that he was going to get in trouble. So, he dutifully walked up to the man's door and knocked twice. 

The man did not open the door and hear him out, he did not yell at Adam to leave, he did not call the police. When my 17 year old brother knocked on the door that night to have a hard conversation, he had a baby face and scrawny limbs and braces in his mouth.  And when Adam knocked twice on that door, the man gave no warning before he pulled the trigger of his shotgun, sending one, single blast through the closed front door. 

One bullet.

One bullet changed many lives, some lives even devastated.  But only one life was ended.  My only brother, my parents' only son, my hero, my friend... the only person strong enough to jump on a trampoline with me on his shoulders, and the boy who led me to Christ, and taught me to dance like M.C. Hammer, and to be funny enough to joke my way out of trouble.  He was gone. 

His murderer was in and out of jail after two years, for a boy's life taken in a rage over some harmless pranks.

Needless to say, when October rolls around I get stuck.  It is almost like my body involuntarily braces for a trauma.  The crisp fall air, the smell of leaves and bonfires... they are all beautiful reminders of fall, and nightmarish triggers that put my physical and emotional self on high alert, tragedy-ready. 

So, here we are, heading into the 31 days of October, and I am 35 years old... Not only have I outlived my big brother, but I have now, officially, had twice as much time on this Earth as he did. I need to do something. I need to be productive and I need to spend these 31 days focusing outwardly, or I will implode with this seasonal misery and depression.  So, I accepted a challenge, a plan designed to get out of our own heads and focus on other people. 31 days of kindness toward others.

I want to commit myself to honor all the good Adam would have done to the glory of God if his life had not been cut short. I wanted to be just like him when I grew up. Well, here is my chance... 35 is pretty grown up, so here goes nothing. 

For Day One, I am sharing this story. I am rallying the people around me to participate, and I am bossing you into participating too. You're welcome. This is the fifth October, I have asked and encouraged whatever participation you can muster. Please like and share these blog posts to your Facebook pages, and why not tag everyone you know? (Unless you hate kindness.) Spread the word. Do any act of kindness you can, no matter how small. I truly believe that the things we do this month would be acts of kindness that Adam would have spent a lifetime doing. To follow along and contribute to our collective journey, please hashtag #AdamsActs in pictures and posts so we can all see how far reaching an impact our kindnesses can make. 

Each year #AdamsActs has grown exponentially and last year I was amazed at the impact it had on communities all over the world. My sincere prayer is that each small act of generosity, encouragement, compassion, thoughtfulness, and kindness will plant seeds of hope, love and healing in a world that could use a lot more of those things. Thank you for allowing me to share my family's story with you. If I can't spend my days watching my brother live out all the remarkable kindness that was in his heart, the next best thing is watching all of you do it in his memory.

In memory of my favorite person in heaven, my big brother, and the super hero of his little sister's heart.