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Showing posts from August, 2013

A Place Where Families Heal

By Stephen C. Schultz The sky was blue and the air was dry. There was a faint smell of pinion pines and cedar in the air. The girls, in their early teens, rushed down to the water’s edge. There were the usual joyful screeches and high pitched screams as they hopped and danced into the chilly water. With life jackets secured, they swam and splashed like every normal teenage girl swimming at the local lake.   With three daughters of my own, it’s easy to see these teens at Discovery Ranch for Girls as simply friends and neighbors that my own kids hang out with. It’s only when you have knowledge of some of their very personal issues and poignant concerns that you start to understand just how different their life experience has been. Having struggled with adoption, self harm, depression, anxiety, eating disorders and substance experimentation, these teens have found themselves in an emotional state of mind and exibiting behaviors that warrants being placed with a residential trea

Opportunity looks a lot like work

By Stephen C. Schultz I was working in the yard yesterday fixing some sprinklers. My two youngest daughters were weeding the flower beds and raking them out. I had to dig some trenches along the sidewalk to get to the sprinkler pipe. The frustrating thing was that the water would gurgle up through a crack in the sidewalk, so I didn’t know which side I needed to start digging, or even where the leak was. So, I just started digging. Of course, I started on the wrong side. So, once I determined the leak was not from the sprinkler line on the South side of the sidewalk, I started on the North side. It didn’t take long to find the split in the pipe. The temperature had reached close to 100 degrees and I was ready for a break. I went inside and got a drink, then grabbed my keys and headed to the hardware store to get the various parts needed to make the repair. I was happy to be traveling the 15min or so in a nice air conditioned car with my cold 32oz beverage purchased from t

The Stinky Side of Summer Jobs

By Stephen C. Schultz Throughout our lives, from the time we are infants to the transition to adulthood we are constantly moving about. As infants, we travel across the floor on our stomach. As kids we ride the bus to school. As adults we may ride the metro to work and drive our cars to the mall. As kids, we ride our bikes, long boards, skate boards, scooters and tricycles. In rural areas some kids still ride horses to school. Some of us live in the city, others the suburbs and still some out in the country. Our chores may include doing the dishes, mowing the lawn, feeding the cows or moving pipe. These activities of daily living are often simply a part of everyday life. So much so that we may not even pay attention to the patterns and structure of the life we are living. Habits are formed and our perception of our environment becomes numb as we navigate our everyday activities. I recall my mother giving me a ride to school one day. It was early in the morning and there w

One, Two, Three… FALL!

Guest Blogger Stephanie Lauren Schultz “Pop!” The sound of a cap gun going off was barely heard over the sound of the Frankie Lane album playing on the old record player in the corner. In addition to those two consistent sounds, a new sound was added. A hollow banging; the sound of somebody tumbling down the stairs. This medley of strange sounds was coming from two young boys. Stephen and Scott, brothers, age ten and six, were playing one of their favorite games. The game was called “ Stunt Man ” and was a regular after – school activity for the two troublemakers. “Stunt Man” was a game designed with a cleverness that took a unique kind of genius to appreciate. Many would say the game was reckless, stupid or just a big waste of time, but to Scott and Steve, the game they had invented was first on their unspoken list of childhood pleasures. The game “Stunt Man” was played on the stairs and worked best if the staircase was narrow. The object of the game: to see which b