I Couldn't Do It.

The sound of your child coughing, or "barking-like-a-seal," is a tough way to wake up. 

After talking to a handful of moms, I diagnosed Charlotte with croup.  With it being Sunday, I watched her like a hawk to see if we needed to head to the ER.  She seemed okay considering the awful sound she kept making when coughing...but no fever, she was eating well, etc.  

I reached out to family and a few friends, and they all responded that they would be praying for her.  

As I was getting ready for dinner, it hit me that I actually never stopped and prayed for Charlotte. The thought passed as quickly as it came, as I got distracted by something that needed my full attention.

After climbing in to bed, thinking through the day, the thought came again that I still haven't prayed for Charlotte.  As I started to pray, I realized I couldn't.  I couldn't pray for her.  I couldn't pray to God to heal her.  

I know that croup doesn't always end up in having to go to the ER, but I know of cases when a child has stopped breathing from having croup.  I know that being sick with croup can change on a dime and can become life-threatening.  Was Charlotte severely sick with croup?  No.  But I did worry about this turning into the worst case scenario. 

Now, I pray for my children daily and frequently.  I've learned that there's only so much we can do as parents, and it's so comforting to be able to pray for God's protect over the things that we can't control.  

But when it came down to me praying for Charlotte's health, to pray for the croup not to get worse, to pray for her healing....I couldn't do it. 

I became vividly aware of the times I prayed for Jonathan's healing and how I felt (feel) like God let me down in not healing him. 

Now I know that there are some fundamentally things wrong with me thinking that God "let me down" with Jonathan, and someday I will tackle that, but while laying in bed last night, my feelings were real.  I couldn't go there with God.  I couldn't pray for another one of my children to be healed. 

I continued praying and talking with God about feeling how I couldn't pray for Charlotte. 

I still love Jesus, and I know He loves me, but I still got a lot of junk to work through with my grief after all these years. I'll get there. 

In the meantime, I'm just thankful for my "village" that will come along side me and pray for me (and Charlotte) when I am unable to do so myself. 

I Know It's Me, Not Him

Guys!  I did it!

I did it twice!

I didn't give Zac or Charlotte a bath after MDO last week or this week!

Okay, I know that doesn't seem like something big, but for me that's huge!

It's no surprise that I'm a germaphobe.  It all stems from losing Jonathan, and now I have this deep rooted fear that Zac and Charlotte are going to get sick and die.  Because of this, I cling to fear.  I cling to control. I cling to controlling germs. 

I know I need to be clinging to Jesus.  My head knows this, but my gut still has a hard time trusting Him.  It's a been quite a process to even get where I am, but if I'm truthful, I don't trust Him 100%.  There are days I long for His yoke, but I just can't.  I know it's me, not Him.

But I can celebrate the small (or BIG) victories that bring me closer to trusting Him. 

We went out to lunch a couple of weeks ago, and I just didn't have the mental capacity to wipe the two highchairs and the table down...so I didn't.  Afterwards I told my cousin how freeing it felt not to wipe everything down.  I wondered if this is how "normal" people feel...  Probably not because they probably don't even think twice about it!

For the next 48 hours I waited for the kids to get sick.  Yep, it's true.  But they didn't!  That's not to say that they won't ever get sick, but I didn't wipe everything down, and they were fine!  Again, there was a freedom in this.  

I decided to take it a step further.  Since Zac started MDO last school year, I would give him a bath the minute we got home.  It's been exhausting.  When Charlotte came along, I just included her into this controlling routine I created.  I've been trying to break this habit, but the bondage of my fear as been so binding.  

Last Thursday was the first day I decided I was going to jump in the deep end and not give them a bath until before bedtime.  The entire five hours while they were at MDO, the amount of mental energy I used of debating whether or not I was actually going to go through with my plan was exhausting!  You should hear the messages I sent my cousin debating back and forth if I was actually going to do it.  I started to get mad at myself that it was such a tough decision.  But ultimately I knew I needed to wait on giving them a bath.  

In the midst of my own worries and fears, I often worry about passing on my fears to my children.  Now that Zac is two, he picks up on things quite quickly.  Yes, I am bound by my own fears of germs, but my worry of passing on these fears to my children is so much stronger.  I don't want them to live this way.  I don't want them to experience the mental exhaustion I go through on a daily basis.  Ultimately my love for them is stronger than my fear. 

For them, I was able to succeed.  Something as simple as not giving them a bath as soon as we arrived home was such a huge step in breaking my chains of fear. 

Each day I constantly have to choose to break through my fear.  Some days I succeed.  And some days I have Grace for myself when I lather myself and my children in hand sanitizer.

It's a journey, and I hope to ultimately take His yoke that He is offering to me on a daily basis.  I know that He is Faithful and being patient with me.  I long for that help and for my days not to be consumed by fear.  But until then, I can rejoice in the steps that I am taking in breaking the bondage of fear however how big or small they might be.