JOSHUA DAVID TEEPLE

Born July 21, 2009
7 lbs. 10 oz

PAPA MATT AND HIS TWO BOYS, EVAN & JOSHUA

MAMA KRISTY AND HER NEW BOY

BIG BROTHER EVAN MEETS JOSHUA

FINDING NICK - July 4, 2009

“I know the plans I have for you…plans to give you hope and a future.”
Jeremiah 29:11(NIV)

This is the story of a boy and his dog who met in prison; the Indiana Women’s Prison in Indianapolis. I am privy to this saga, because the dog was my dog, Faith.

Faith is the third puppy my husband Rex and I fostered for Leader Dogs for the Blind. At one year of age, Faith returned to Leader Dog School to begin formal training. Six months into training, she was released from the program due to kennel stress. We adopted Faith, with the intent of finding her an alternative avenue of service.

Canine Partners of the Rockies, a program that matches dogs with adults with disabilities, eagerly accepted her, only to release her a few weeks later. Though her guide dog skills were excellent, they did not transfer well for wheelchair work. As her “mom,” I was distressed that my golden girl had not yet found her purpose in life, or a home and family to call her own.

The boy in this story is Nick, a nine-year-old with Down’s syndrome. At age 2 ½, Nick was speaking simple sentences and enjoyed singing songs with his mom. Then one day, Nick disappeared into a private reality, no long speaking, singing, or answering to his name. When Nick was eight, he was finally diagnosed with autism.

Nick is a sweet, loving child, but when upset, he cries, screams, hits, bites, and throws things. In public, he often refuses to hold a parent’s hand, runs of, and plops to the ground to stage a “sit in.”

Nick’s mom, Katrina, intuitively knew that her son would benefit from having a service dog. Although Nick does not have the usual disabilities for which people typically receive service dogs, this determined mom searched for a program that could help him.

During the same time period, my husband and I were contemplating a third placement for Faith—and that is when God brought Faith and Nick together, via the Indiana Canine Assistant Network.

After several months of training, Faith was ready to be matched with a child. Three days into “team training,” when the child and parents work intensively with the service dog and trainer, Nick began speaking—to Faith. Like most children with autism, he needed something to spin, but one day in training, Nick threw his cup and pencil to the floor and made a beeline for Faith.

Faith was allowed to go home with Nick during training and one night, when Nick was crying, Faith went to him. Nick wrapped his arms around Faith and cried into her fur. With Faith’s comforting presence, Nick’s behavior did not escalate into rage or violence.

Nick is beginning to interact more with humans as well. He speaks in sentences. He sings with Mom—the tunes and lyrics he knew at 2 ½, intact.

“I’ve searched for my son for all these years," says his mom, “and it took a dog to find him.”

“Prayer is the key to Heaven, but FAITH unlocks the door.”

I dedicate my column to the ICAN trainers
at the Indiana Women’s Prison.
You are awesome! God bless you!

FLEDGING - June 2 2009

Those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles…
Isaiah 40:31 NIV

There’s a nice young couple who have taken up residence in our home—on a support beam situated on the underneath side of our second story deck. It ‘s a safe place to lay a few eggs, sit a spell, and then hatch some young’uns. From nest construction to empty nest, I’ve enjoyed peeking in on my houseguests.

Ladies (and gents), have you ever noticed how fast another mother’s pregnancy proceeds? My pregnancies dragged on at a tortoise pace while everyone else’s pregnancies fly by like the hare in Aesop’s fable. An avian gestation goes by in a flash—for a bird the size of my housemate, approximately 11-14 days. Once hatched, baby birds grow at the speed of light, so you need to be alert and observant if you want to catch the action.

When Mama bird’s behavior changed from incubating her eggs to making umpteen trips to the grocery store, I began making bed checks on the nest several times a day to see how the babies were growing. I was elated when I first caught sight of little pin-feathered heads and beaks popping up. Then one day a baby bird was pushed out on the edge of the nest, due to cramped conditions, and I knew that, of necessity, the babes would take flight soon.

Later that same day I heard a commotion in the direction of the nest and looked over in time to see one fledgling flutter like a befuddled butterfly, fighting to gain altitude. Its wings were flapping wildly and he was darting this way and that, like a kite being played by a fickle wind. But soon he was able to control his wings and negotiated a less than perfect landing on a tree branch.

I walked over to the nest to inspect it to see if anyone else had fledged. As I tilted my head to look up at the nest, the three remaining babies fled the scene and immediately flew to nearby branches. I sat in wonder as I watched the fledglings flying back and forth. It was like watching my child taking off on her maiden bike-flight. I felt the same pride and elation that I have every time one of my kids masters a new challenge. “Whoo hoo!”

In a week’s time, “my” baby birds (I tend to quickly develop attachments to animals) were transformed from pathetic, helpless, naked newborns into teenagers, eager to earn their flying licenses and receive their flight wings. What an amazing miracle!

Do you ever feel like a baby bird being forced out of your security nest, fearful that you won’t be able to wing it? Over and over in life we find ourselves in new and challenging positions, pushed out of our comfort zone. Put your hope in your heavenly Flight Instructor and let God carry you—and “soar on wings like eagles.”

"GRACE MEANS GIFT" - May 2, 2009

“For by grace are ye saved through faith;
and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God.”
Ephesians 2:8 KJV

When I was forty-something, my mom gave me her most prized possession—her mother’s Bible: a lady-like sized, leather-bound King James Version, with petite print.

What I treasure most about this Bible is my Grandmother’s written notes. My own Bible has many passages highlighted and underlined, with comments written in the margin, the really good pages dog-earred. So with great interest I opened Grandma’s Bible to see what passages were most dear to her. Leafing through its delicate pages yielded only one, concise comment—but it is a comment that speaks volumes.

In carefully executed cursive, at the top of the “Presented to” page, Grandma wrote “grace means gift.” That’s it. Grace means gift. After my initial disappointment, my heart swelled with the realization that this one tiny phrase was the “heart” of my grandmother’s heart.

At the time I discovered her note, I was in the midst of my own discovery of God’s grace. I’m always amazed (but not surprised) at God’s impeccable timing. If I had read Grandma’s comment a couple years earlier, would it have had the same impact? I think not. God saved this precious discovery for a time when I would be most able to receive the full impact of its blessing.

Grandma’s legacy—the realization of God’s amazing grace—was passed down to me through my mother. I’m not referring here to Mom handing over Grandma’s Bible to me, but to her own faith journey. Every time she shared her personal encounters with “grace means gift,” with me, her face glowed and her voice took on the quality of music—an expression that made me say to myself, “I want that! I want to have what she has!”

Even though my mom was raised in the church, it wasn’t until she was 59 that she really “got” grace. In her eighties, Mom wrote her autobiography for her children and grandchildren, and in it she stated, “Unknowingly, there had been a struggle in my life as I wavered back and forth for many years, trying to earn my own salvation FOR God, instead of accepting it as a free gift FROM God through Christ!”

Each one of us has to experience our very own encounter with grace. Grace is such a difficult concept to grasp. But once we’ve “got” grace, we want to share it. And it is through demonstrating grace toward others that we help them “get” grace.

We can lead our loved ones and friends to the water trough of grace, but they have to taste it for themselves in order to experience its refreshing, life sustaining truth. Often times, we arrive at the water trough via trauma, crisis, loss, grief—literally dying of thirst, spiritually. Care for a sip?

Grace means gift!

In memory of my grace-filled grandma
Wilhelminia Schelesky Reuman
1887-1972