It Takes a Village (and One Pack Mule)

A few months ago I made an exciting announcement in this embarrassing video. If you haven't watched it, then you might still be operating under the assumption that I'm not an idiot. That's so nice of you! But you'd be mistaken. In the video I describe in an obnoxiously choppy and drawn out way a charming fashion that I will be publishing a 31 day devotional to supplement #AdamsActs and my blog in the month of October. The downloadable file will be available for $1.99 on this website starting on October 1st.

Before I go any further, I am going to give a micro-explanation of what I am talking about. #AdamsActs is a kindness movement that I started in memory of my brother Adam who was killed at the age of 17. We do 31 random acts of kindness in his memory to spread love and good cheer during a month that used to put me in a funk of sadness. When sharing this deeply personal part of my family's story, I can't help but share the part of my story that is even more significant: my faith story.

I am unwilling to cheapen my faith in Jesus by being pushy about it so I tend to share less than I sometimes want. Still, there are a lot of readers who want to explore this faith I speak of, and they want to do it in an environment that is not initimidating or judgey. I decided to process some of the deeper faith components of grief and suffering in a separate place than the blog so that readers can choose to participate or not. This thing that I am calling a devotional is simply a series of meditations and thoughts to consider as we go through the month of October. My hope is that it challenges you to examine your beliefs and explore/consider deepening your faith. I also secretly hope that you laugh at my funny jokes.

It has been a labor of love and so much nausea to get this devotional written. It has taken a village to raise up this little project. On the village roster we have my friend Lexi who would kick me out of my house and take excellent care of my kids so I could go to the library and get work done... only to ambush me at said library with coffee. She amused herself in the process by taking absurd pictures of my striking resemblance to a pack mule.

Next on the village roster are my three editors. Greta (pictured below - in the middle) worked as my copy editor, tirelessly deleting 484 billion commas. I didn't know that I had a comma addiction. But, apparently, I, do, and, it's, super, annoying. She cleaned up my work significantly, and if you find any errors or typos... it's because I couldn't part with all the commas and I also came up on my deadline before she could make one final pass for edits. Also, it's a $1.99 so why don't you go ahead and simmer down on the expectations mmkay? Next on the roster, we have Char (pictured on the right with all the tats and a wicked mohawk) who combed through for any theological issues. She helped me answer questions like "Is it okay to call Jesus a baller?" For the record, the answer is no. No, it is not.

And then on the left we have Melissa who served as more of a line editor. She did a lot of the heavy lifting when I knew what I meant to say, but the reader maybe wouldn't. The 4:55am editing sesh was not a one time thing. She lives in Manahttan, so for this side by side situation to take place... she had to travel all the way here multiple times to help a sister out. Her help was invaluable to me. 

My other villagers include a slew of people that Lexi and my friend Brandi manhandled into being on some sort of launch team to get a first look at the devo and share some of their favorite bits as a teaser for everyone else. Their positive reviews have been such an encouragement during these past few days of intense vulnerability hangover.

The mayor of this village of support is Heather (not pictured above) who is the designer for the devotional and is working on it as I write this. She sent me a sneak peek and I am telling you that she's a miracle worker because the crazy document I sent to her is looking clean, polished and professional, even if overly riddled with commas. 

It was not all fun and games and I learned a lot about my shortcomings. Which I could have done without to be honest. I spent less time with my family than ever before, but Tom happily took on the extra responsibilities while I was tied up with the editing process. The kids were proud of me, and have been so encouraging and understanding. The best thing to come out of this process is the excitement my oldest daughter, Annalee, has expressed in participating in the devotional with the rest of us in October. Her supportive offer to "buy it at full price" made all the work worth it. Even if I felt like this the whole time...

If you are interested in participating in #AdamsActs or in downloading the devotional then here are a few things you can do:

• Skip on one cup of coffee this week and the cost is already in the budget.
• Subscribe to the blog here so it's super easy to follow along through the month
• And/or follow me on Facebook so you never miss an update.
• Download the devotional on October 1st right here on this website.
• Spread the word by liking and sharing posts in October.
• Find a group of people who might be interested in exploring faith and invite them to read and discuss the devotional with you.
• Send me a private message here if you are interested in joining a weekly discussion group about the devotional just for the month of October. If there is enough interest, I will create an opportunity for people from all over to join me online via Periscope or Facebook Live to do a Q&A and discussion once a week about what we are learning. 
• Praise the Lord that this thing is finally done.

Day 31: Circles Over Rows

My church has this saying they use when talking about what church should really be like, they say "circles are better than rows." What we mean by this, is that as a church, we believe that life (or life change) doesn't happen when people are sitting in pews or rows at church. Rather, we believe that life happens, community happens, when we are sitting around in a circle. This is why our church has Community Groups - where we sit together, eat together, talk and share life together, every week. Not on a Sunday, and not in a row, and not at a church... but we meet throughout the week too, in our homes, and we circle around with each other in a way that is more intimate, and more authentic than it could ever possibly be on a Sunday morning in a church building. It's how Jesus did church and it's what works for real life change and growth in faith.

Circles. They are better than rows.

There are some species of animals that only survive because of circles. The matriarch of a herd of African elephants, for example, will - when sensing danger - form a protective circle with other mature elephants to surround the youngest and most vulnerable elephants in the herd. The circle, which can sometimes be severel layers deep, serves as a barrier that protects their young from harm. 

Circles. They are safer than rows.

I have always been a circle kind of a girl. I love doing life with people. I love hearing and learning from others' stories of loss and love and redemption. I love to open my life and let people look inside of it, to correct wrong thinking, to steady me, to challenge me to grow, to comfort me. You can't do any of that in a row. It can only happen in a circle. 

Circles, are more effective than rows.

Time is more like a row. Time is linear. Grief, not so much. Grief is more like a circle. It has a natural rythm, it is cyclical, and fluid and it never ends. Sure, it may seem to pass for a while, only to circle back around again. The return of grief is the most certain part of it.

Circles. They are harder than rows. 

I have felt a lot like the little elephant inside the protective circle this month. So many of you have surrounded me and my family with love and support and encouragement. This great circle of grief might always orbit around me, but ouside of that, is another, much greater, circle. It is made up of friends, and neighbors, and former teachers and coaches. This circle around me is several layers deep, and it is comprised of perfect strangers and friends of friends, and people who knew my brother and people who did not. Just like grief, this protective community of people around me has no end. 

For Day 31, I was able to connect with some of these people. I went home to Michigan to surprise my family. Although, on this side of heaven, my mom will never have the gift of having all four of her children in one place, it was healing for her to have all her living children and grandchildren together on the night that she lost her son. We were her circle. 

I surprise visited a few family members and old friends, none of whom expected to see me, and I hope considered it a pleasant surprise. And I had the opportunity to visit my alma mater, Grand Haven High School, and had a Q&A with staff and students.

It was a great time of discussion and visiting and felt way more like a kindness to myself than to any of them. It was strange to see my old school, and Adam's old friends who are now the coaches and teachers. It was surreal, but it was good to see yet another layer to that great protective circle.

Circles. They are greater, more impactful, more powerful, more meaningful than rows.

So, Day 31 was no grand gesture of kindness. I simply gave the gift of reconnection. It was a gift to myself as much as anyone on the receiving end, I'm certain. Still, I think that connection is powerful and life-changing and as I think about the immense and powerful hold that grief can have on someone who is facing forward, alone, in a row... I am so thankful that I am in a great circle, and that I am covered. When I feel the pull of grief, tugging my soul into a place that is too dark to face alone, I am covered in prayer. When I feel the shame of suriving, or feeling stuck in this long process of healing, I am covered in grace. When I am grasping for an anchor to ground me, I am covered in love. When I fall short, evey minute of the day in some way or another, I am covered in mercy. And when I am not sure how to bring something beautiful out of something so sinister, I am covered in your kindness.

And when I am missing my brother, and I withdraw and sit alone, defiantly facing foward in what feels very much like a row, God (in his infinite wisdom and relentless pursiut of my affections) begins to sweetly bend that row around me until I am right back in a circle. And the circle is made of layer upon layer of new brothers and more sisters and the whole body of Christ working to protect our weakest and most vulerable. And we shift and take turns recieving cover and protection as we all cycle through our times of grief, and we move and we make room for new members of the herd.

Because circles, are more lasting, more transformative, and more life-giving than rows.

Day 30: We Are Not Blocked

After staring at a blinking curser for the past forty minutes, I have decided that I am just going to tell you the truth. It's not like I have writer's block, in fact I don't think I have ever experienced writer's block. Only real, official writer's get "writer's block." I would have something more like "stay-at-home-mom who wants to be a real writer someday and pretends to be a writer and might even call herself a writer when she is on an airplane and can pretend to be anyone...block." But, even then, I don't know if I have had it. When I don't write, or can't write, it's not for lack of ideas. If I am not writing it is because I tend to only write primary content - the stuff I am really living through and experiencing right now. If my primary content is too hard or too private, then I won't write. But, I don't usually feel blocked.

Today though, is a different sort of thing. It's hard for me to write today because I feel like I have already written it all before. I have been doing #AdamsActs for a while now, and I have shared my private memories, my secret feelings, and all the griefs. This is the hardest part of blogging about a story that does not change. I am out of material. I am blocked.

Remember a couple years back, when I told you all about Adam being such a phenomenal wrestler that his teammates called him "Pinner"? And then I told you how they called me "Lil' Pinner" because I followed him everywhere and looked a lot like him? Yeah, well nothing has changed since then. That still happened, it still breaks my heart, and I already wrote about it. 

I just feel blocked.

I already told you that my heart breaks in fresh ways every time someone asks me how many brothers and sisters I have. That is still true. I already told you that it took me years to forgive myself for going skiing with some friends instead of celebrating Adam's last birthday with him. That is still true. I already told you that if I could go back and celebrate his life for one last time, I would give anything to make a different choice. I still regret it. I already told you that he would dance in hammer pants around the house, and that he taught me to forgive and to think independently. All still true, all still not nearly enough. 

There is so little left that I haven't told you. And I don't know if I want to tell any more. Because ya know what, this is all I have left of him. I do not get fresh material to draw from. I do not get new stories to share, new memories with him, or some totally new perspective on grief and loss. This is it. This is all I have. I have already shared everything that I was given. And when I start pressuring myself and I catch myself feeling like I am disappointing all of you by not bringing something new to the table I start to feel a sort of anger burn deep within me.... an anger that screams back that nobody wants new stories to share, nobody wants more memories, nobody wants another birthday... more than me, more than my family.

And so, this is it. This is the truth. I have already told you almost everything. I have hesitantly and tentatively opened my hand and shared with all of you the most sacred bits of my story. Our time with Adam was so very brief, and as the youngest, I had the least time with him. So, in a way I am blocked. That is what happens when a life is cut short. When a bright, brilliant light is shut off, there is only the vague memory of it and everything else goes dark.

It's easier, trust me, to sit in that darkness. It is easier to call it writer's block, and to stop sharing and to just let myself be sad. But, I refuse to stay here in the dark when God has made it pretty darn clear that we are supposed to use our stories and to be the light of this world. And so, it's true, there is nothing new to share about Adam. It's true that I have said it all before.

But, as long as these old memories of mine hold truths that help this dark world glow just a little warmer, a little brighter, I will keep sharing them. And I won't put pressure on myself to share new things, because I don't have the luxury of making new memories with Adam. But, what I have is primary content. I have this day. And today, was a good day.

For Day 30, Tom and I packed up all five kids and drove to Michigan to surprise my mom. Today we all hung out, the cousins played, and my mom had all her kids and grandkids together under one roof. It was a good day. And while it's true that Adam's story doesn't change... ours is still being written. Today I sat with my nephew, Adam,  who will be 17 in a few days, who was named after his beloved Uncle, and we talked about school and sports and life and his future. His story is still being written.

I watched my nephew, Tyson, play soccer a lot like his Uncle Adam did. And afterwards we all played together, and we ran and wrestled and clicked our heels and got tangled in the soccer nets... and I could see that our story was still being written. I can see that while Adam's story ended, it is still woven into us so profoundly that it continues on in its own way. 

We are not blocked. We have gone through hell and back as a family, but our story is good. And it is still being written. 

Day 27: Tantrum Acts of Kindness

Day 27 was a cold one. We woke up to a dark, snowy morning and since we all know that #iquitwhenitscold I was not thrilled for the winter to pop by this early in the season. And while my hibernation intincts to store food in my pillowcase and just hole up til spring were kicking in like nobody's business, I pushed through to the bright side. And the bright side is that I have waited for a snowy October day for forever! I have dreamed of bringing hot chooclate to the crossing guard near the middle school on the first really cold day of the year. And it was finally here! And I knew just the right person to treat! This guy is a little bit older, and he singlehandedly mans the busiest intersection in the neighborhood. 

So, when I woke up to this:

I call this Phase 1: Frosted Mini Wheat Snow. It gets worse, and there are many levels of torture involved, but this is the beginning. 

I decided to make the best of it. I would bring the crossing guard a hot drink on the first really cold day of the year. This guy is faithfully out at that intersection every single morning, and every single afternoon all year long. 

Except for today. Of course.

Fortunately, I had already arranged to bring Harper's teacher her dream lunch today as well, so it wasn't a complete bust. I also extended the kindness of extra treats to my kids, because it is sometimes hard watching their mom just hand out candy and special lunches willy nilly, when you are getting the same old turkey on wheat that you always get. 

Jay, in particular, seems to be enduring the greatest temptations. 

He starts off strong, ready to give joyfully, then crumbles upon learning that he will not be getting his dream lunch any time soon.

You can see the evolution of emotions he experiences as we wait for Mrs. Mendicino's dream lunch.

We start here with a relatively strong smile and willing participation.

He starts to realize that maybe he doesn't care to wait here for something he won't be enjoying, but the one side of his mouth still has enough fortitude to muster half a fake smile.

Here we have stage three, as you can see the clenched and extended neck area shows building emotional distress, head thrown back in exasperation, but feelings are being stuffed in hopes that forced politeness will earn a handsome reward.

Reality sets in. Hopes are dashed. Fake smile, and entire face, disappear behind the goods. Tantrum ensues.

So, I resolved to really let them enjoy some extra dessert tonight. My friend Nan had so graciously made our family an apple crisp, and the kids were looking forward to having some after dinner. Apparently, Annalee discovered that I had "taste tested" a small bit, and sent a very clear message that she was watching.

Even though my hot chocolate mission was a fail because there wasn't a crossing guard there to guard all the crossing, I didn't report the old man who had clearly abandoned his post. I am not sure if that is kindness or negligence on my part, but we can just call this one a draw.

I really can't believe that we only have four days left of October. I have gotten a lot of messages from people expressing regret that they just learned what #AdamsActs is all about, and they feel as though they missed the opportunity. I am toying with the idea of making #AdamsActs an all year thing. I would continue to particpate at this level only in October, but I have been asked to speak about this movement in November, and I love the idea of issuing different schools, different communities, different churches, teams, organizations... the challenge of doing one full month of kindness throughout the year. I know why I do it in October, but there is no reason that I can't challenge other groups of people to do it any time of year. So, whatchya think guys? Can you think of a youth group, or a small group, or a neighborhood, or a book club, etc. that might be up for taking charge of a month? If thousands of people can spread this much kindness in the month of October, how many more people could #catchthekindness throughout the year? A wise and beautiful woman with an unbeleivable heart of gold (yes, that's you Sue Delgatti) said to me, "When this month is over, I am going to keep #AdamsActs going. I say #ContinueTheKindness." I like how Sue thinks.

I don't know what this would look like, but I know that my life's mission is to share this story of redemption with as many people as the Lord wants to put in front of me. I truly believe that God takes the worst of us, the worst of our experiences, the worst of our pain... and transforms it into something purposeful and beautiful if we allow him to. My passion is to share that truth with as many people as possible. So, if you have a group that could benefit from the good news that redemption and healing are possible, I wold love to share this story and invite others to join in the movement to be more actively and intentionally kind. I believe that we should give sacrificially, but joyfully. We should give 'til it hurts a little, then do it anyway, knowing that ultimate joy comes from loving and serving others ahead of ourselves. Don't we all feel a little tantrum-y like Jay when we really give big? And I have to be honest, the thought of pouring my story out year round is just about enough to make me throw myself on the floor and roll around a little... but I also know that some stories are just too big to confine to 31 days. Some things - like radical kindness, like overcoming grief, like sharing life with others - just might need to happen all year long.

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If you are interested in booking a speaking event, or have a group in mind that might be interested in participating in #AdamsActs for one month in 2017, contact Lara here.

Day 26: Video Fail, Kindness Success

This video is Tom and my relationship in a nutshell. I'm obnoxious, insecure and hyper, sort of like a puppy. He is sensible and quick to end our hilarity out of embarrassment. Because he insisted on shutting down my attempt to share all my kindnesses (which was clearly going so well) I will give a brief overview. Day 26 included hosting our community group here because the planned hosts had a stomach bug. I sent a few notes of appreciation to various people who have supported me during different seasons of my life, and I also sent messages to people who are going through difficult times. I checked in, asked how I could pray, and tried to brighten their day a bit. But mostly, I intend to brighten your evening with this uncensored peek into our marriage.  

Day 23 & 24: Yes, Still.

So, I think it's pretty obvious that I am getting overwhelmed. All the usual signs are there. First, we are in the home stretch with #AdamsActs, second, I have pulled out the buy one, get one blogs more than I wanted to, and finally, there's been a lot of uncontrolled weeping in my house. (Mostly from Tom.) 

Seriously though, I can feel the weight of October (and everything it holds for me) just settle deep into my bones around this time every year. And it unhinges me. And every year, I scold myself, "Still?"

Yes, still. 

I still remember Joe walking into my house, basically still a kid himself, holding up my mom and my oldest sister, to tell Bethann and I that Adam was gone. Joe defintely got more than he bargained for when he decided to fall in love at first sight of my big sister Kristin. He didn't know that our family was about to change forever when they first started dating. On their comically awkward first date (in which Joe got his own arm stuck in the steering wheel while driving, and I'm pretty sure my sister also threw up at one point) he didn't know that our parents' divorce was only months away, and that Adam's death was waiting on deck. Or that the trial would begin shortly after, and a march on the courthouse to demand justice for Adam. He didn't know that he would be the rock of our family when he walked through that door to deliver the news that would change our lives, our family, our selves, forever.

Kristin and Joe on their wedding day, 7 months after Adam passed away.

Yes, still.

I still remember watching a video of Adam at the funeral home, trying desperately to memorize every manerism, the sound of his voice, and what his hands looked like. And as much as I fought it, those memories have faded over time, yet the loss of him, has not.

I still remember dressing up as Adam on that last Halloween. It has always been heartbreaking and beautiful to me that on the night my brother was living his last moments as a 17 year old boy on this earth, I was also pretending to be that boy, wrestling singlet and all. I was dressed as my super hero for Halloween, but it just so happened that my hero was my big brother.

I still remember praying that God would let me talk to him in a dream. And still, certain songs, certain smells, certain weather... can crack my heart wide open to reveal a wound that still feels so fresh at times.

Yet there are a lot of other times when my pain is mostly the result of my little empath heart breaking for my parents. There is no pain more acute in my estimation that that of losing a child. There is no reality so harsh, or loss so severe as knowing that your child is gone, and you must continue to live.

So, yes. Still.

It is all still there. So many years later, because that is how love works. Just because one life ends, does not mean that all the love ends to. And when you have a boy so great, and so much love, really... something must be done with it. And so, as hard as it gets to continue blogging day in and day out, as exhausted as I feel from a month of feeling exposed, as much weeping as there is... it is out of a complete overflow of love that #AdamsActs was born.

And until I come face to face with my heavenly father and my earthly hero, I consider it a privilege to pour myself out each day. As long as I can say, "yeah, still." I will keep attempting to use this oportunity to show love and kindness to others.

Day 23 and 24 included a variety of kindnesses. I spent a lot of time in grocery stores so, three times over the past two days, I bought a Snickers for the cashier. This is one of my favorites, because the opportunity presents itself so conveniently and so regularly! Plus, cashiers are watching other people buy delicious foods all day. Can you imagine how hungry you'd get after a while? And for someone to say "Hey, Victor, you look like you could use a Snickers on your next break," has to be so gratifying. 

Victor was a 17 year old boy too, which just sweetened the whole experience for me. I told him about my brother, Adam, who is forever 17, and how he can pay it forward someday when he sees someone else who stands on their feet for an entire shift. He seemed genuinely touched. Another lady came around the check out to give me a hug, and the third lady gave me a look like "I don't need your filthy Snickers bar." But, she turned her light off as soon as I paid and took her break immediately. Turns out, girlfriend does need my filthy Snickers.

I also filled all the grocery carts at Aldi with quarters and I helped a friend who has been having some excruciating back issues with her grocery shopping, a little laundry, and dinner. And I bought her sweet angel girl some slippers which she pretended to hate until I left. Mostly though, it was a kindness to me because we mostly just ate subs and talked about all the crying we were doing lately. 

And for my final act of kindness, I contributed to a gofundme for a college student who is double majoring in African/African American Studies and Political Science and is raising money to study abroad in Ghana. Sidnee is a bright student and activist who will be partnering with me tomorrow night for another discussion on the race relations in our country.

After all the fails, and all the weeping, I'm feeling like mama got her kindness groove back a little bit. And as much as the last week feels like the emotional equivalent of walking through quick sand, I can say another set of "yes, still's" are true.

In a time where racial tensions seem to continually intensify, yes, still, I will speak up and try to make a difference. In a culture that overlooks others in the busyness of life, yes, still, I think that our world can change one Snickers at a time. I lost my big brother, and yes, still I have faith. Yes, still, I trust my God. Yes, still, I believe that He brings good things out of bad, life out of death. And I am willing to splay my grief journey before thousands of people because, yes, still, I believe that Jesus is in the business of turning my pain, and yours, into a beautiful, candy-bar-filled story of redemption. 

Day 21 & 22: Let's Leave Lisa Out of It.

After my highlight reel of fails the other day, trust me when I tell you that the irony of being interviewed for #AdamsActs is not lost on me! And while I feel unfit for such a responsibility, I had the privilege of challenging an entire gymnasium full of 4th, 5th and 6th graders to join #AdamsActs with all of us for the next ten days.

That is not me in the fire-engine red wig. My wig only comes out on really special occasions.

I got to stand in front of these developing minds and tell them about all the things that my big brother could do - soccer, wrestling, editing the school paper, making people laugh, etc. But, I also got to tell them that Adam wasn't special because of what he could do, but because of what he chose to BE. And what he chose to be was really, really kind. I shared with them one of my favorite acts of kindness that exemplify who Adam was when nobody was looking. Below is an excerpt from a message I received many years after his death, about a simple kindness Adam showed to one of his classmates. 

When I was 15, I went to the freshman dance in the cafeteria in the Jr High. I was awkward and very shy. I spent most of the evening hiding in the bathroom and hoping it would just be over. I ended up going out to the dance floor. I didn't know Adam, but I recognized him. He was there all by himself. Amazing! A 14 year old boy at a dance by himself! ( I went with a group of girl friends). I asked if he wanted to dance. He said sure! Before we got a chance, my friend cut in. It was funny the first time, but she did it repeatedly all night long and I never did get to dance with this nice boy. Well, as I was walking down the hall after the dance, I met up with Adam. My friend was no where in sight. I mentioned that to him, just as a joke. He stopped right there and we danced! Just for a few moments. No music, no cafeteria, who cares who saw.

What a special, special brother you have! I don't know of any boy that age that would do such a sweet thing. I was always taught that there are angels on earth. I have repeated this story to people many times and there is no doubt in my mind that he was an angel.

At the age where these kids are still forming their world view, and their very identity, I am counting it as my Day 21 act of kindness that I attempted to convince hundreds of kids that being kind is cool. That slow dancing in the hallway to no music with the shy girl who felt left out is the stuff of legacies. That seeing the kid who feels invisible, is what separates everyone else from the heroes. As a kid, it is so easy to feel like you are standing alone on the wrong side of a great divide. Maybe it's having the wrong sneakers, or clothes from all the wrong stores, an outdated haircut, or a second-hand dress for the prom. Or maybe it's just having nowhere to sit (or nobody to dance with) in the junior high cafeteria. Whatever it is, these kids are still deciding which kind of kid they will be. Will they be brave enough, kind enough, to reach out across that divide (which is much smaller than it seems to the girl hiding in the bathroom at a school dance) or will they be like everyone else? 

I was beyond excited to be invited to push these kids to grow in the area of kindness. But, I admit that I was a bit on the nervous side. Enter into evidence, Exhibit A: the photo I sent to my sister-in-law, Carlie, when she asked how I was feeling about the whole thing.

Despite the nerves however, I am so thankful to have this unique opportunity to partner with the students and faculty at Rogers Middle School. And 13 WHAM news. Even though they think my name is Lisa. 

I am not even a little bit ashamed to admit that mid-speech I, Lisa, took a mass selfie with the entire middle school. The quality of the photos are terrible, as was the decision probably, but they still turned out really fun! 

For Day 22, I was going to go see a friend about a pelvis, and that's really all I will say about that. However, there was an unexpected change in her schedule so pelvic plans have been moved to Monday. Which means I have just enough time to panic-scramble some sort of pathetic kindness in this evening.

But, I also thought I should give some updates as well! First of all, the donation bin for David's Refuge has been a HUGE success! As you can see below, we have received mountains of sweet and salty snacks which will be used to fill gift baskets to accompany the overnight getaways for parents and caregivers of children with severe special needs or life-threatening medical conditions. There is still time to donate some snacks to my front step. If you are interested, message me for my address. We will be collecting items until the 31st.

I have to admit that I have also been the recipient of many kindnesses. My friend Andrea sent these beautiful roses and a note of encouragement, my mother-in-law brought me these cheery daisies and my friend Lexi has provided an eternal supply of apples. (#foodsofaffirmation) An eternal supply is saying a lot for a household of seven! Trust me when I tell you that the grocery struggle is real. As always, it's better to give than to receive... but I gotta admit that recieving is a very close second. I am very blessed to be surrounded by people that Adam would have loved if he could know them and I consider it the great sadness of my life that they will never get to. Still, it encourages me to believe that God is using both Adam's memory, and all my favorite people, to raise up a new generation of kind kids.

Day 19 & 20: Random Abs of Kindness

Welp. Guys... if Tuesday's anti-climactic video wasn't an indicator that I am running out of steam, then Day 19 will confirm it, fo sho. True confession: I did virtually nothing of significance yesterday. So, here's what I am going to do. I am going to, in list form, write down everything I did yesterday that cooouuuuld be stretched into an act of kindness. And really, these are so bad, that they only seem like kindnesses if you are an actual criminal. But, this is about the time of the month (not menstrually, just this time in October) that I start to get sick, a little run down, and I morph into a kindness sloth. 

So, I now present to you... dun da dun daaaa....

15 Things That Weren't Exactly Kindnesses, but Also Were Not Crimes!

1.     I accidentally hired a racist to powerwash my house. Upon discovering that he was a racist, I did not cut his face. This took a lot of self-restraint. And I believe that not maiming someone when they probably deserve it, is an act of mercy, and therefore, kind.

2.     Tom's act of kindness counts as mine because, well, two become one, baby. So, Tom/I called the racist powerwasher to tell him that being a racist is not only bad for business, but also for world peace. (Seriously, nothing is more attractive than a man with a zero tolerance policy on racist powerwashers.)

3.     I didn't harm any of the children who ate like farm animals right after I mopped my dining room floor.

4.     I did Facebook Live (always humiliating) specifically as a kindness to all of our out of town family members who would otherwise miss out on seeing my daughter, Annalee, take SECOND PLACE for the first time in cross country. My mother (who I affectionately refer to as Hurricane Sandi), Aunt Onnie, Aunt Kristin, Grandma Neen, Aunt Elizabeth and Aunt Carlie all live far away from us, so I consider it a kindness to let them be involved in this if they'd like to be. I acknowledge that this might be a Random Act of Motherly Pride, but... shut up and be impressed with my adorable, hard working daughter!

5.     At the cross country meet, I offered to help the coach in any way he needed. I ended up collecting place cards after the boys' race. It was really hard because I had to put stickers on 3x5 cards and... ya know,  hold things. So, yeah. #majorsacrifice

6.     I bought Annalee a bag of Popcorners? (They are her favorite, and... whatever. I admitted I would be stretching it.)

7.   I didn't spontaneously fall alseep in my car, even thought I wanted to. Instead, I picked all the kids up at all the schools, and I drove to the race, then home to feed them, and then to youth group and then to the school open house. I could have just slept through all those responsibilities, but I didn't. And I wanted to. But I didn't. 

8.   I wrote out little words of affirmation for the staff that I planned to hide around the school. But I didn't do it because there were a thousand people around and no way I could not have done it in a sneaky fashion at all. I would have been hiding notes in their desk right in front of them. It felt more tresspassy than I had envisioned. So, now... I have some really nice notes about how valuable school employees are to the community, in my coat pocket.

9.    Tom and I had such a busy day that we didn't get to eat dinner until 9:00 at night. At that point we were both famished and being really dramatic about it all. (Mostly Tom.) So, I swung by the grocery store on the way home and picked up some of his favorites because his love language is Foods of Affirmation. This is the lesser known cousin of Words of Affirmation, and has more of a "stop talking and feed me something bread-based" type of a feel. 

10.    I restuffed our little floor ottoman pouf thingys. But these things are super comfy and we have loved them so much that we destroyed them. So, I figured out a new purpose for all that fabric that I have sitting around for my business (of repurposing old fabric, ironically.) I took old fabric, repurposed it into accessories and now that I am retired from that, I have a zillion scraps of fabric that are virtually useless. So, actaully I re-repurposed it by stuffing it into my ottomans. They are good as new. And now they don't look like little deflated sacks on my floor. (I realize this is not a kindness. I'm just really excited to have solved this problem for free. And technically, I recycled so, you're welcome, environment.)

pathetic little sack vs. saving the environment & our ability to recline comfortably

11.   Who are we kidding? I don't have 15 things!

12.   I am getting low self-esteem because you guys have been so creative this year with your kindnesses.

13.   Ummm

14.    

15.

Okay! Wasn't that fun? Moving on to Day 20! I woke up this morning to what Tom rationally referred to as a "household clothing crisis" and then I threw up from a migraine. Now I am sort of just lying in bed with a growing sense of panic about everything I have to do today, and tomorrow, and for the rest of my life, all while my head and stomach gang up on me to teach me a lesson. Like a schoolyard bully. 

I am going to try to rest for a bit, and then get myself together to bring London's teacher lunch. I requested her lunch order yesterday, and she seemed very delighted to order a salad. I cannot possibly imagine that this is her DREAM lunch. So, I might peer pressure her into going with something a little more, say, bread-based. But, either way... I will force myself to get that woman some lunch. 

I have seen a lot of people post things like "I haven't been good at posting..." or "I'm behind on my #AdamsActs..." so I really hope that this potpurri of fails has made you feel better about falling off the wagon. My friend Marci has morphed into some sort of fitness guru over the past year and she shared an inspirational thought the other day. It was something like "Every wagon you fall off just means you get better abs later in life if you find a new wagon." (That's a pretty loose interpetation.) But the gist is that my kindness abs were a little weak yesterday, but once I stop vomiting, I will get back on the horse. Or is it wagon? I don't even know what I am talking about anymore. I blame the "mindgrain" as London calls it. The bottom line is that Marci looks great and there's always tomorrow for the rest of us. 

Day 18: Fine Tom, We Can do a Video.

When the man gets his mind set on something, there's no changing it.  #AdamsActs includes doing a video when your husband just won't stop begging.

Day 17: Being the One Who Survives, Being Unexpectable

I am not amazing. I really mean this, I'm not just being self-deprecating... although, I do love me some self-deprecation (I believe that it is almost always guaranteed hilarity and therapy rolled into one.) But that's not what I'm doing here. I really mean that I am not doing anything special here. The kind remarks and encouragement that so many of you have spoiled me with is seriously dumbfounding. I am overwhelmed with how generous you all have been in your assessment of me and my writing and of #AdamsActs. 

I struggle though, because I am such a wicked, deplorable sinner that I want to be real clear that I am no better, no kinder, than anyone else out there. I am just blessed to have this little website, and therefore a platform to stumble through life a little more publicly than most.

In fact, starting #AdamsActs was not really altruistic at all. I started doing these random acts of kindness five years ago because I really couldn't cope with October. I had all these grief triggers and instead of thriving during the month of October, I simply survived.

And that, right there, is it. I survived.

It has taken me a long time (well, five years to be exact) to realize that this is why I struggle every October. Because I was the one that survived.

I don't just miss my brother in October. I miss him all the time. My holiday memories sadden me, because I either remember when he was there, or I remember when he wasn't. Both are so painful. And it isn't just special occasions. I miss him when I pass a Burger King. I miss him when I see a bag of sugar-free candy. I miss him when I feel silk. I miss him when I see the color maroon. I miss him when I smell a wrestling mat. I know that sounds gross, but sweat and wrestling mat is the smell of my childhood. And when I walk into a gym and smell that old familiar stink, I long to relive every match that boy wrestled. I dream of watching him climb yet another podium to receive a medal. I have a visceral longing inside of my soul that reminds me that somewhere deep down I am still that little sister, looking for her brothers hand to hold.

I don't just miss him in October. But, October is when I feel most keenly aware that I survived.

And he did not.

I did not know this at the time, but starting this kindness movement in Adam's memory was my way of attempting to retroactively earn my right to survive. After all, Adam was just so good. He wasn't perfect, I don't mean that. He, too, was a wicked and deplorable sinner... he told me so himself. But, he also told me that he was forgiven. And that the God that forgave him would do the same for me too. And so I accepted his God's invitation to forgive me. I met his Jesus. And I even loved him. But after Adam was ripped from my life so violently, so suddenly... I stopped feeling forgiven. And while I still loved Jesus, I stopped feeling loved by him, like I no longer felt that it was safe to trust him.

And so my love triangle with shame and guilt began. I did not learn about survivor's guilt until I was in college. I had always assumed that it was specifically a feeling for someone who had survived an experience that someone else did not. And that was not the case for me. I was not there the night my brother was shot. Of course I survived. So, survivor's guilt did not seem to apply. But, over the past five years, I have come to the realization that I have been operating in the belief that I must make a significant mark on this world in order to earn my place within it. The funny thing is that when people feel like we have to do or be something in order to feel loved or acceptable, we are way less likely to do or be that specific something. It's simply too exhausting. 

So, we under-perform. We don't apply ourselves. We never really realize our potential. We get close to achieving, and then we self-sabotage because we don't really believe we deserve success. We live with that sense of disappointment in ourselves because, well, we believe we really are that disappointing. 

Because it should have been him.

He should get the degree. He should have the happy relationship. He should be the one with the dream job and the beautiful family. He should get to live his dreams, not me. And so, I have hurt a lot of people throughout the course of my life. Because, it's hard to sabotage yourself, to deprive yourself, to hurt yourself... without also hurting the people who are closest to you. 

And so, no. I am not amazing. I am not an angel. I am not a hero.

I am a survivor.

For Day 17, I picked up London, my 6 year old, from school and I took her out to lunch. She picked sushi and doritos, and Jay (age 3) picked chowder, because my kids are perfectly bizarre. This was a huge kindness to her for a couple of reasons. 1) We RARELY eat out. This family of seven is on a tight budget and paying for the luxury of dining out is an absolute rarity. 2) Only those of you from a large family knows what a treat it is to have (almost) one on one time with your mom when you are one of five kids! She was in heaven. And she was eating doritos with chopsticks. We also purchased a fancy cupcake for the lady who had the gross job of scrubbing down the cafe microwaves. She sanitized the junk out of those things. So, the children abused this cupcake in the check out line (purely out of excitement) and then surprised her with it. She seemed a little confused, then skeptical, then surprised and I think, ultimately, appreciative. That seems like a perfectly reasonable response when you give a stranger a crooked cupcake. When we were leaving the store, London said "I mean, that was so UNEXPECTABLE!" 

Yes. It is certainly unexpectable. I am unexpectable. I love that word because it's a perfect 6 year old blend of unacceptable and unexpected. Losing Adam was both. Being the one that survived, was both. And although I have spent a lifetime feeling guilty about it, I realize now what a waste it is to hold back my potential, to sabotage opportunities, to deprive myself the gift of enjoying every good and perfect gift that I have been given by that same God who has been sweetly forgiving me and loving me all along the way. He has whispered love to me on the darkest days of mourning. He has whispered grace and peace to me during the times that I have been so afraid of more loss that I refused to pray, lest I be complicit in his unpredictable will being done. He has pursued me and spared me and he continues to give me a platform to speak and to write and to tell my story. Even though I am not amazing, even though I am a little unexpectable, he shows me kindness. And perhaps the greatest kindness of all, is that HE chooses to be amazing, through me.

And through you.

Here we have the devolution of the cupcake quality. Jay is slamming the rest of his chips, cupcake still in tact.

Jay is fake eating the cupcake while loudly making cookie monster/eating sound effects.

Cupcake dislodges from protective cupcake stand and remains on side upon delivery.

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 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.