I try to begin where I left sometimes. That’s an impossible expectation. There is too much life in between. So much laughter. So much joy. So much pain. So much frustration. SO much frustration. But, somehow, no matter the amount of time that has passed, I do return. Whether it is days, months, or, years, I return.
Writing is me. It fills my soul. But, it also hurts. It physically and emotionally pangs me. It’s allowing myself to be completely vulnerable. To share the hurt and the aches, but also the simple joys I sometimes savor for myself. I’m certainly no stranger to “over-sharing” on Facebook. It’s a lesser pain with temporary satisfaction. It never truly bears all.
I began an online Bible Study yesterday based on Lysa Terkeurst’s newest book, “It’s Not Supposed to be This Way.” Y’all. I sobbed. Because it’s not. It’s not supposed to be this way.
I shouldn’t have to see Austin struggle in school… in only second grade. He shouldn’t have to worry about bullies or finding a friend that accepts him for who he is (harder than you think). He shouldn’t have to worry about how he lacks in athletics. That he’s not “good enough” to play with the cool kids. I shouldn’t have to see the pain on his face which he so intently tries to hide through his emotions. He shouldn’t have to worry when he knows Mommy AND Daddy are going to an appointment with Everett. There shouldn’t be fear in his eyes when he sees a bowl in Everett’s bed, indicating that it was another migraine night for E, if not worse.
It’s not supposed to be this way.
And, Everett. Oh, sweet, precious Everett. It is not supposed to be this way for you. So many surgeries. So many struggles. So many unanswered questions. No relief. I struggle day in and day out searching for answers. But, no one can give me any. No one can relieve the frequent migraines. No one can solve the everlasting reflux. No one can fix the chronic sinus issues. No one can explain the random rare bone disorder in his feet. No one can answer all the questions, or make sense of it all. Or, any of it. I hold my breath before every cardiology appointment because I know it’s coming. I know the next surgery will come. I worry about the awfully low heart rate at night, and wonder how it affects him. He shouldn’t have to struggle through kindergarten. Reading, letters, rhyming. Why already are there bright red flags for dyslexia and learning disorders? Why can’t anything be easy?
It’s not supposed to be this way.
As we drove to one of Everett’s appointments last week, the questions spewed. “Why do I have so many appointments, Momma? Why do I have to feel bad so much? Why do my feet have to hurt? Why do I have to miss school? Why do I keep getting migraines?”
It’s not supposed to be this way.
But, what if it is? As crazy and radical and ridiculous as it seems, what if it is? Lysa writes, “What if disappointment is really the exact appointment your soul needs to radically encounter God?… God doesn’t expect us to handle this. He wants us to hand this over to him.”
Yes. Exactly. But, isn’t that a lot easier said than done?
I don’t want pain. Especially for my children. I mean, look at my child the wrong way, and I’m ready to eat you alive. Leave my children out of it. But, they are not only mine to love.
This year might be my greatest resolution yet. It’s my year for Faith. Faith in His plan. Faith in His promise. Certainly, there has always been faith, but I must honestly admit, it’s never been complete. It’s hard to give it all, even in the most dire of circumstances. But, something has to change. I want to trust in His plan without expectations. I want to see how our struggles and the dust filling our life are made brand new.
I will trust why it’s supposed to be this way.