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 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.