a way out

If you've read many of my posts, you know by now that I do not consider motherhood to be for the faint of heart.  If you're a mother who finds her job a breeze, you will probably want to just move along, go check out Pinterest or read the Post or something, because this one will just make no sense to you.  For the rest of us . . .

 : : :

I know no one really enjoys having sick children (and if you do - I really, really don't want to hear about it), but the last couple of years I'm embarrassed to say I have become downright fearful about it.

Having grown up on granola and garden veggies (thank you, Mom & Dad!), I've always been interested in God-made, health-promoting nutrition and remedies for sickness.  My "medicine cabinet" has included ginger, elderberry, aloe, prunes, honey, lemon, vinegar, garlic, chicken broth, and Vitamin D (and, yes, Band-Aids & Tylenol).

I guess I kind of got to thinking I had the sickness thing covered.  My insurance was starting to look pretty tight. . . . until the fear started.

I would hear a friend mention her sick child, or read on facebook about a bug going around, and begin to scrutinize my children for symptoms.  Were their cheeks overly rosy?  Did they seem lethargic?  Was anyone's appetite suspect?

I'd go to bed fighting images of my children, sick in the night - literally battling the anxious thoughts parachuting into my mind like trained stealth invaders.  I'd pray.  Sing.  Recite scripture.  I'd visualize each child healthily sleeping, dreaming of rainbows and kittycats.

Eventually, I'd go to sleep.

It was exhausting, to say the least.  And it didn't always work, for long.  And even when it was working, the fears just seemed to come along all the more frequently, as if to make up for lost ground.

I knew it was no way to live for a Christian professing faith in God.  But I didn't know of any way to deal with it other than battle.

And then - a book.  I am always humbled that God, who knows my love for reading, is willing to speak to me through other people's books.  Hinds' Feet on High Places was on my reading stack, and was teaching me about living a life of faith.  At one point in the allegory, Much-Afraid, the protagonist with whom I could  identify all too well, was in the desert of suffering and slavery.  In all the barren landscape, she spotted a single flower, called Acceptance-with-Joy.  She realized that since she could trust the Shepherd, she could trust whatever he offered her:  even suffering.

Not long after reading that, I had another night of fear.  I was waging my usual mental battle when I remembered Much-Afraid and her little flower.

What if ... ?

Like a shaft of sunlight entering a dark room I saw the way out.  Acceptance-with-Joy!  If God wants to give me sick children to take care of, then I will accept that with (eventually, I hope) joy.

Immediately Fear vanished like a bogeyman falling through a hidden trapdoor.  Gone!  I was free!  I could hardly believe it could be so simple.

 : : :

As long as I insisted on having healthy children, Fear always had an entrance:  "what if your children get sick?!?!"  And as long as I panicked in response ("oh, no!!  what if they get sick?!"), Fear had a place to stay.

When I could respond to Fear's "what if - ?!" with a trusting, "Then I accept that with joy", it took the wind right out of Fear's sails - and left me submitted and secure.  This yoke I've put on is easy; His burden is light.

I kind of like submitted and secure; it sure beats anxious and fearful.

I still have my "medicine cabinet" for preventing and treating real illnesses as they may arise, but that particular Fear is dead and buried, and I am beautifully free at last - to trust my Shepherd, and to enjoy my children without worrying unduly about tomorrow.

a puzzle

So.  Why is it that most days find me dragging along . . . facebooking every free minute down the drain . . . to avoid the fact that I am unable to string together more than two coherent thoughts . . . let alone accomplish any job requiring more than mere physical memory . . . just hanging on . . . to survive till naptime . . . and then bedtime . . . ?

And then suddenly one day I find myself out in the cold sunshine! lying on the hammock! watching Lil' Snip trot industriously from one mysterious mission to the next! organizing (and helping with!) work parties to pick up all the dropped balls from the sweet gum tree! and clean all the shelves in the refrigerator! and in my spare time, painting a door! door-frame! trim! and two trellises! . . . ? ?

I'm not bragging (about what - my usual ineptitude?!), honest.  I'm just frankly puzzled.  Does that seem a little off-balance to you, too, or is that normal?

. . . I didn't even start taking a new vitamin . . .

You know what?  Never mind.  What's that they say about gift horses?

my son

Oh, Lil' Snip, my heart-walking-outside-of-me . . . .

People ask me what it's like, having a boy now, after three girls.  You defy description.  In answer, I can only offer today, a "now" glimpse of the vast everything that you are:

              

  This morning, you woke up singing "Jesus" in your charming, tuneless way.  When I came to get you up, you greeted me with your mock-serious voice, saying "pee-pee" and patting your jammies in the appropriate spot, then demanding to stand on the windowsill so you could hide behind the window blind before I pulled it up.  

Once dressed and downstairs, you were, as usual, frantic for your breakfast until you had gotten a few bites of granola in your mouth.  You sure wake up hungry!!

At the doctor's office for your well-baby visit, you gave the receptionist a shy smile, cheek to my shoulder, and then proceeded to scream bloody murder when your kindly nurse tried to measure your head, weigh you, and conduct other benign experiments on your person.  But by the time we left, though, you had the whole office staff laughing at your cheeky "see ya!"

You're starting to play more independently - that's a lovely skill, my boy, as long as I can hear what you're getting into.  I should probably move the tractors back down where you can reach them before you become too enamored with your sisters' dollhouse.  And that big stack of puzzles you love to dump, one by one, confident that someone else will put them back together - we're going to give most of them away.

Nobody would have guessed by your behavior that supper tonight was one of your favorite meals.  I was grateful for unbreakable plastic cups, but wishing I'd put earplugs in for your performance.  I think you're starting to catch on to the whole consequence thing, though:  when I told you "no fussing", you answered "bed" and "more", and managed to get yourself under control for a few minutes.

We were all relieved, frankly, when you opted out of dessert in favor of serving tea to the dollies Sugar, Spice, and Nice had set up in the livingroom.  Watching as you poured "hunny" and "moke" into their cups and offered them a "taste!" was well worth letting my own dessert wait.

You did pretty well with my refusal to hold you while I exercised - a few ritual squawks of protest and then you ran off to play with Nice.  I wish my left arm were stronger, but you are getting big!  It was nice to have you snuggle down next to me afterward with a book ... even though you soon climbed down ... and back up ... and back down ....

Thanks for the reminder to "bess" you when I tucked you in, and to sing "Jesus".  That's usually Daddy's job, isn't it?  We got to wave "bye-bye" to him from the window when he headed off to his board meeting.  You'll see him in the morning.  Maybe he'll give you a "dip" of his coffee to taste.

I hope you sleep well, Lil' Snip - and not just because I want to sleep well, too.  Life is so rich for you.  You work so hard; you need your rest.  Tomorrow is coming, and who knows what you might do!

quiet waters

The Lord is my Shepherd:  I shall not want.

[Good morning, Lord.  I trust you with all my needs for this day ... ]

He makes me lie down in green pastures;

[ ... thank you for this rest on the floor for a few minutes while the children play outside, and my Farmer watches the needy one ... ]

he leads me beside quiet waters;

[ ... and for the quiet kitchen while I wash the dishes ... ]

he restores my soul;

[ ... it refreshes me to talk to you as I do my work today ... ]

he guides me in paths of righteousness for His Name's sake.

[ ... This course is changing my life, Lord.  Thank you for leading me to it, and changing me through it ... ]

Even though I walk through valleys of deepest darkness, I will fear no evil -

[ ... yesterday was tough, Lord.  Thank you for being faithful even when I was not ... ]

Your rod and Your staff are a comfort to me.

[ ... I didn't really like it when You showed me my sin yesterday, but it's a comfort to me that you love me enough to train me, and I will thank you for your discipline as a proof of your love; I hope I've been trained by it  ... "God disciplines us for our good, that we may share in his holiness.  No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful.  Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it." - Hebrews 12:10-11 ... ]

You prepare a table before me, in the very midst of my enemies!

[ ... Thank you for teaching me to "feast" on You, Lord.  When I look for it, I am seeing that you do prepare a feast for me - even in the thick of my daily responsibilities - even when they crowd so thickly about me that they look like "enemies"! ... ]

You anoint my head with oil.

[ ... You care for me, meeting even my smallest needs lavishly.  Thank you for the lavender sugar scrub that my friend made for me; I feel so pampered when I use it, and the oil in it is helping with my dry hands! ... ]

My cup overflows; surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life,

[ ... I know I haven't done anything to deserve your love.  But I'm glad that you are Love, and that you faithfully stay with me, showering me with your goodness, showing me mercy every day ... ]

and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

[ ... I can't wait for heaven, Lord, but I'm so glad that you dwell with me even now ...  "As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you.  Now remain in my love."  -Jesus, in John 15:9 ... "Anyone who loves me will obey my teaching.  My Father will love them, and we will come to them and make our home with them." -Jesus, in John 14:23  ...  "And surely I am with you always, even unto the end of the age."  -Jesus, in Matthew 28:20 ... ]

                                                      Psalm 23

a leap!

I just watched someone jump this afternoon, and I must say it was inspiring.  Best wishes, my friend, and I look forward to regularly delivered installments of your cup of tea.

Smile, my readers:  life is not over - oh, not by a long shot - when you near the end of your fourth decade.  In fact, it may just be beginning ... again!  There are always new corners to be rounded, new rocks to be turned over, new pages to be flipped.

Hope is contagious.  May you catch some today!