Dear Hallie,

I love books! And there is nothing quite like sharing good books with the people I love, especially my children! I still have a basket full of our favorite board books (including Snuggle Puppy and Pajama Time) waiting to be read to my grandchildren. No hurries, please!

As my babies got a little older, we’d spend hours reading and talking about the stories in our vast picture-book collection. At least until you were born.

Even when you were old enough to read books yourself, you offered nothing but interruptions and distractions to family story time. And to naptime. And mealtime. And gametime. Even family movie nights. Eventually, you earned the nickname “Storm,” based on one of our family’s favorite picture book, “Storm is Coming,” by Heather Tekavec. It tells the story of a barn full of animals hiding from, and completely confused by, an impending thunderstorm. For years we’d affectionately say “Storm is coming” as you joyfully stormed into the house, tripped over your own feet, bumped into furniture, unintentionally knocked over a sibling’s carefully constructed block tower, fell down the stairs, or spilled another cup of milk.

I started waiting until you fell asleep before I’d attempt reading aloud to your siblings. Not because I did not enjoy my storm. Nor as a way to punish or isolate you. Rather it was because I knew my storm needed a different kind of story time that included dancing, dreaming, or drawing the stories we’d share.

No one was surprised, especially your teachers, when you were diagnosed with ADHD at ten. Like the storm in our picture-book, you’ve often been misunderstood or isolated due to your tendency towards impulsivity, inattention, and hyperactivity. Growing up in a culture and education system that values performance, conformity, and punctuality over passion, ingenuity, and creativity has often masked your strengths while magnifying your weaknesses.

Your K-12 journey was anything but simple and straight forward. You have bumped into lots of carefully constructed conventions and baffled many peers and teachers along the way. Not to mention you have given your parents dozens of heart attacks and made lots of messes for us to help you clean.  

I beamed as I watched you confidently walk across the stage in your cap and gown in May knowing how hard you worked to get there, and how hard you have loved and served others along the way. And I have treasured every minute of this last summer of your childhood, as I’ve watched in awe you live every day to the full- learning as much as you can, grabbing every chance to travel or babysit, and serving and loving others in the most beautifully creative ways.

Monday I dropped you off at your dorm confident you are exactly where you are supposed to be. Sunday’s long goodnight is one I will treasure forever. You asked me to tuck you in just like the old days.  We laughed, wept, and prayed together reflecting on the grace and goodness of God to us both over these last 18 years. I will forever treasure the moment when your deep gratitude for everything that has been and your anxious fears for what lay ahead landed softly in my lap. And then you asked me to sing you your song. The one I started singing over you when I was still carrying you inside me. Of course, at least a decade has passed since I have sung to any of my children. I gave that up once it was discovered I am tone deaf. I partially obliged praying the words of your song over you. “All of life comes down to just one thing. That’s to know you Jesus, and to make you known.” While we both have a long way to go before we know exactly what that means or what it looks like lived out this side of eternity, what I do know for sure is that all of life does not come down to being right, or normal, or being accepted, or even being good. Afterall, none of us are good. Even the ones who find it easy to always do, say, wear, think, and react in the most socially acceptable ways. That’s why we need Jesus in the first place.

Like many people who meet the diagnostic criteria for ADHD, you wear your weaknesses on your sleeve, and have struggled with feelings of inferiority, failure, and isolation. Your unique gifts and weaknesses have often embarrassed you as much as they have confused or frustrated others. While the idea of starting fresh at college feels great, it’s hard for you to imagine a way of being yourself without ending up feeling like you are too much or too messy. Well, from your “too much, too messy momma,” here are three important reminders for my storm as you dive headfirst into your freshman year of college.

1. Storms are beautiful, powerful, and purposeful. Storms are fearfully and wonderfully created by God just like every other temperature or temperament we come across. Consider John, “the disciple who Jesus loved.” He too was nicknamed after a storm. In the Gospels, John and his brother are called Sons of Thunder. In Hebrew, the word “thunder” is translated “tumult.” Some say the nickname stuck because John’s voice resembled thunder, and he had a tumultuous temper. Others focus on his warmth, impetuosity, passion, and the powerful impact of his words. Either way, I can’t help but wonder if John was singled out for character traits that today might be called hyperactivity or impulsivity. He called down fire from heaven on the Samaritans, (Luke 9:54) and expressed to Christ a presumptuous desire to sit at his right hand in eternity (Mark 10:25). Despite this, he was one of the disciples in Jesus’ inner circle, and when Jesus was dying it was John he asked to care for his own mother.  He loved others deeply and was loved by many. And he shared an especially deep and intimate connection to Jesus while he was on this earth.
2. Storms are not “normal.” They are not boring or ordinary. Storms are extraordinary. They are memorable and they leave lasting impressions…for better and for worse. This too is God’s good design. Consider John again. He literally walked with Jesus, witnessing his miracles and teachings firsthand, and was even chosen to write five New Testament books. You’d think his closeness to Christ would mean he’d eventually overcome the temper, tumultuousness, and the tendency to get ahead of himself which earned him his stormy nickname. But, Scripture seems to paint a different picture. John’s single-minded passion and bold relentless preaching landed him in exile at the end of his life. While in exile, God used John to write the final book of our bible. In the final chapter of Revelations, John shares a vision he was given by an angel. Overwhelmed by the vision, he immediately fell down and began worshipping the angel. This angel responded saying, “You must not do that! I am a fellow servant with you…worship God.” (Rev. 22:8-9) Even as an old man, John was overcome by the impulse to worship creation over the Creator. Even more surprising, this scene is a repeat from three chapters earlier when John had just been corrected for the exact same thing. Seriously! Go read it! (Rev. 19:9-10) While perhaps slow to change, John was quick to repent and turn in worship when he sinned. Instead of feeling shamed by the angel’s exhortations, John allowed the truth to point him to the throne of grace where there is no condemnation. Of course, being impulsive, hyperactive, and inattentive are in no way innately sinful. These proclivities might cause someone to struggle with certain sins more than other sins, but they also often show up as courage, passion, creativity, and enthusiasm. John might have been embarrassed that the angel had to correct him twice for the same thing in such a short amount of time, but rather than spiraling into shame or hiding his weaknesses, John chose to boast about them in his letter to the churches as a testimony of God’s strength, goodness, and grace.
3. While storms do not need to apologize for being storms, let’s be honest…storms are also messy and can overwhelm others. Still, that does not mean the storm should cease to do what the storm was created to do. Let others be the bright sunny days, the gentle rains, the calm before the storms show up, or the rainbows that God sends in the wake the storms. And then as you do your thing, like John, just be ready to repent when you sin, make amends when you offend, lament the brokenness of this world, seek to worship God alone, and boast in your failures and weaknesses to the glory of God’s grace. Afterall, even at the very end of a long life of faithfulness and devotion to God, John was still getting ahead of himself and stumbling in these thunderous ways. Let that remind us that neither perfection nor normal are measurements of usefulness or evidence of belonging to Christ. Ever-increasing trust, willingness, humility, and endurance are. Instead of setting either perfection or normal as the goal, use the gifts God has given you to make a forever impact wherever you are. Even when it’s in exile. You will likely always struggle to some degree with behaviors that embarrass you or confuse others. Goodness knows I do! But let’s be careful to celebrate the steadfast love of the Father despite ourselves, the deep abiding love we have been given for others, and the growth and grace evidenced in the smallest of victories along the way.

I was surprised this week when you shared with me that right up near the top of your biggest worries about college were the desks you encountered at freshman orientation. You went on to explain that freshman year of high school was your introduction to right-handed desks which made staying seated and focused a million times harder than it already was for you. I had no idea! Not only were these desks a daily reminder that this world was not made for your unique left-handed attention deficit brain, but it ensured that your teachers would never get to know the real you. The smart, generous, gracious, creative problem solver often hidden behind the loud squirmy blonde girl struggling to stop talking or moving. The girl I got calls about “refusing” to focus or to do her work. How was I to know your high school had right-handed desks? Of course, until this week, it never once occurred to me that the shape of a desk would make certain tasks impossible for some people. There is still much I don’t know about the struggles of others, and I am far too quick to judge based on outward appearances. I’m sorry this world is not made for you, but I sure am thankful that God made you for this world. In Judges 3, after the people of Isreal cried out to the Lord, he “raised up Ehud, the son of Gera, the Benjaminite, a left-handed man” as the answer to their prayers. Ehud’s creativity, impulsivity, and his left-handedness were all parts of this deliverance story. Mind you, the entire story of Ehud’s victory and leadership is about as awkward as many of the stories you find yourself living, but I think you get the point.

This world has enough of the right-hand man. So sometimes, he answers our prayers in the shape of Hallie, daughter of Laura, a Spaulding, a left-hand girl. You certainly are the answer to so many of my prayers. Getting to raise God’s left-handed girl has been one of the greatest challenges and joys of my life, and I can’t wait to see how he means to use your gifts and weaknesses at college and far beyond.

I hope someone warned Texas State University…Storm is coming!  A beautiful, powerful, extraordinary storm about to leave a lasting impression in the lives of all who have the privilege of being in her path.

Come visit soon. And often. The house is not the same without you.

Love,

Momma