Wow! It’s been much too long since I’ve last blogged. I have dearly missed it, but for some reason, my heart just hasn’t been into writing and sharing lately. I’m going through a phase of just reading, praying, meditating, keeping to myself and soaking up all the gems others have to offer. Still, somehow, I feel like I need to put my voice out there and let people in on all the things my mind has been reeling about over the past few months.
First of all, I am so happy to say that my dear 4-year-old son is doing remarkably well after all he has been through over the past five months. We are still awaiting some doctor recommendations, and I’m sure we have more follow-ups to come, but we are just basking in the glory of having no seizures since the end of December and trusting our God and Healer for complete healing. The last MRI at the end of January showed that the inflammation is still there in a few different areas on his brain. The doctors are undoubtedly nervous and want to treat him, but for some reason, we are at a major standstill. What we thought was going to be a quick referral to a rheumatologist in Houston has now taken over six weeks with no answers and no referral. At the time, we would have jumped in our car and driven there for this doctor to see him and recommend treatment, but now, six weeks later, we are feeling much differently. At first, we were angry at the lack of communication and urgency these doctors have shown, but now, I feel like it has just been a God thing. I firmly believe that God is just holding everyone off and doing His own healing so that we don’t have to put him through rigorous treatment unnecessarily. Funny how God works in these ways. We have no idea what He is doing, but we know He is up to something! In any case, I boldy proclaim that he is healed and know that so much good will come out of all of this hardship! Thank you, God!
Aside from all of that, our family is doing really well, and I just feel the presence of God in our lives more now than ever. It was so needed too. I can’t describe it, but even though I have known the Lord for many years, I have never quite felt His hand on me like I do now. He guides my ever move, and He is with me every second of every day. He always was. It’s only now that I notice Him.
As I type this, my eyes well up with tears. I’m so humbled by all that God is doing in my life right now. I am so full of joy and gratitude for the precious little lives that He has given me to pray for, kiss and hug on, teach and touch. Never in my life have I known such joy and satisfaction and felt like I was right where I needed to be. However, if you would have talked to me before my son got sick, my testimony would have been much different. I would have told you that I loved my kids, but…
- I would give anything for some time to myself.
- I am so exhausted from all I have to do.
- I’m so drained by the constant picking up of toys, laundry to do, dishes to wash and put away, peacemaking between siblings, dinners to make, etc…
- I just wish I had more help.
- I just wish I could sleep more. And the list goes on…
I am not a saint. I still have those feelings a lot. But now the filter is different. Instead of letting myself wallow in these thoughts, a little timer immediately goes off and says, “Snap out of it! Your time for complaining is UP!” It’s true! I used to let myself sigh outloud — you know…the martyr sigh that tells the world how bad you have it –and get frustrated and let my extreme impatience with my kids come out a lot more than I would ever like to admit. But now, when those little voices creep up as I walk from one end of the house to another picking up toys and wiping crayon marks off my wall, I smile as if to say to myself, “Get over yourself, Amy!” Then I immediately think of all the things I am so grateful for:
- Those beautiful, sweet, soft cheeks I get to kiss every day…there will soon be a day when those cheeks will thin out, have pimples and start to grow hair!
- Hearing the word, “Mommy!” for the 25th time in a 5-minute time span…there will soon be a day they will no longer call me “Mommy”…but instead “Mom” or perhaps nothing at all. Maybe they’ll just say, “Hey…You…Lady who wiped my butt and rocked me to sleep for 3 years straight!”
- The crazy loudness that penetrates the walls of my house…there will soon be a day when that loudness will turn to a very still, eery quietness that longs for their sweet voices to echo down the hallway.
- The lack of time to myself…there will soon be a day when I will have too much time to myself. Although, right now, I can’t even imagine that.
- The clutter of toys and games and unidentifiable objects throughout my entire house…there will soon be a day when I will look around the house and none of that will be here…and I will be sad that it’s not there. Another one that is hard for me to believe at. this. moment.
I could go on and on, but I will leave it at that. You get the picture. It is something we all have to learn and confess on a daily basis.
I was just laughing and talking to my girlfriend the other day about the fact that we wish we could just press the pause button and get some things done and have a moment to just soak it all up and take a breath without them growing in the process and without us missing out on all the moments. She wanted her pause button to last for a year. She thought she could really accomplish a lot and get things done if she had that long. I was thinking more like an entire day, since I haven’t had an entire day to myself in 4 1/2 years! I can only imagine the things I could do! Ha!
Whatever your pause button might look like, we all have the need to stop and reflect on what we have from time to time. For some reason I’ll never know or understand, God didn’t design our lives to have a built-in pause button. For some reason, we are severely sleep-deprived, overwhelmed, bombarded and up to our ears in snot, poop, sour milk and crayons in a very suffocating, sore boobed, no personal space kind of way, and somehow, some way we have to lavish in it and enjoy every second of it because just as quickly as it came about in our lives, it vanishes. So unfair! I’ve always said that it was a cruel, twisted joke that we have to enjoy every quickly passing second of a sleepless newborn, even though nothing about sleep-deprivation connotates the word “enjoy”. It’s the same cruel, twisted joke that we have to enjoy every quickly passing second of a toddler’s tantrums or a preschooler’s strong will. But for some reason, we do. We absolutely do. God designed it that way. So, like anything, we have a choice. Is the boob half empty or is it half full? Do we relish in the mishaps — the spilled milk, the crumbs in the couch, the snot on the wall, the toys we accidentally step on — which happen more often than the clean house? Or do we complain and wish away our kids’ codependent years and then look back and wish we had just enjoyed it more?
I choose to relish in the mishaps and trust the God who gave me these precious souls to mold and shape and raise and pray for.
Today, I am resting on this promise:
2 Corinthians 12:9
9 And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.
Strength made perfect in weakness?
Rest?
Sign me up!
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