A couple of months ago I hit a wall. A really big, really hard, really miserable wall. After the ringing in my ears quieted down some I took an assessment and really didn’t like what I saw. I’m not talking just physically. Although taking a good look in the mirror shocked me into reality as well.
The last three years have been rough. While I wouldn’t trade these years for anything, because trading them in would mean trading Parker in, I do wish I had done some things differently.
I tend to be a bit of a control freak. And a worrier. And I’ve never been more of a control freak than I have with trying to keep Parker alive. I have spent a lot of time shaking my fist at the Heavens and declaring that my child would indeed beat the odds and survive. I would make sure that would happen. By putting each and every minute of each and every day towards Parker’s care, I would insure that his life would be spared.
I forgot, or refused to acknowledge, that Parker’s Heavenly Father was first and foremost in control. That He had set forth a life plan for Parker and that life plan was filled with only the best of blessings for Parker’s eternal progression.
My job is to take the very best care of Parker possible and have faith that my Heavenly Father will take care of the rest.
I’m not good with trust. I’m even weaker when it comes to faith. I tend to rely on me. I tell myself that I can take care of everything. And that if I do everything just right, then all will be well. I’m in control.
Funny thing about this type of control. It can really do a number on a body. From health, to weight, to one’s ability to feel happiness.
It is slowly starting to dawn on me that I can only do so much. And then I have to turn the rest over to God. I have to have faith that whatever happens with Parker’s long term health, Heavenly Father will be in control. And while I may know this intellectually, putting this faith in action is going to take even more trust.
But I know that this is something I absolutely must do. Because trying to fight it has only resulted in the feelings that I have lost…..me.
I’ve lost the ability to feel the joy I used to embrace. Happiness almost seems like a foreign concept.
There is a song by a group I love that contains the following lyrics:
“Some believe in destiny and some believe in fate”
“But I believe that happiness is something we create”
I think there is a lot of truth there. It is my choice as to how I look at my experience as being Parker’s Mom. I can choose to continue to try and challenge the Heavens for control, and there by very effectively shutting out any feeling of happiness and joy.
Or, I can do my absolute total best and then exercise faith in the perfect knowledge and the perfect love of my Father in Heaven. And by doing that re-open the door to the happiness and joy I have so been missing.
There may be a few of you who are scratching your heads wondering what brought this post on. Well, it was my heart’s response to this gift from some amazing women over at MMW.
I opened this box:
And read this note:
For reasons I can’t seem to put into words, this gift opened a flood gate of emotions for me. I sat and cried for a very long time. Sad tears. Tears of fear. Tears of gratitude. Cleansing tears.
It seems as though that brick wall I was telling you about before had also been built over my heart. Out of protection. Out of fear. Out of my need to control.
I’m pretty sure that Parker’s nurse yesterday was convinced that I was one sandwich short of a picnic.
Really, who cries when receiving fruit? Even a full year’s worth of the most amazing kinds.
But the reality is that these sweet sisters sent me so much more.
I realize that you can only see the oranges and grapefruit in this picture. You had to be here to feel the love.
You would never imagine the change it made in my heart.