Worn-out? Not Quite.

All day, my eyes have been glazed over and there's been a lump in my throat like a tea kettle, on the stove in the early morning hours, reaching its point of screaming, screeching to let out steam from the bubbling and boiling water within.

I know that God has this. I know that He has my back and my world is in His hands. I can trust that... rest in that. My hope is full and I literally get excited thinking of God's purposes in this. It's just that, right now, in this moment... I want to cry. I want to vent. I want to throw porcelain plates on a concrete slab. I don't feel any shame in articulating my weakness in this; my desperation for Jesus in this. This is real life. My six year old son suffers from physical and mental illnesses, my marriage is being revamped and revived, I have had a migraine for over a month straight, Im trying to "do right by my kids" in this homeschooling gig, and, in the meantime, I'm trying to make sure my two little girls don't slip through the cracks. Im trying, and trust me, I know... there are others who have it worse, much worse.

Real life. There isn't a pause button, much less a rewind button. We can't stop and re-record our new desires, or lessons learned, over past memories or mistakes. Honestly, sometimes that reality equates to a lot of pressure; burdened shoulders, weary hearts. Truth be told, I am weary. But, I am not worn-out. You see, the definition of "worn-out" is: "worn or used until no longer usable or effective". It's because of Jesus; His faithfulness, His generosity, His grace, His strength being made perfect in my weakness, that that definition is not applicable to me. It's not because I am needed, because I am strong, or because "I've got this", but because of who Jesus is. It's because of the One who lives in me, the same power that raised Jesus from the dead inside of me, that I am absolutely [still] usable and effective in my busy and broken world. 

On some days I can feel worn-out and come so close to owning that lie. It's tempting to sit around, paralyzed by the sting of all that is in front of me. Some hours, I can feel so isolated because, after all, who can relate to having a six year old that lives in a world where he feels [believes] that nearly everything and everyone are against him/want to harm him, to the point where fear and anxiety make it difficult for him to function? It's easy to feel alone in this extreme world where suicidal along with other dangerous thoughts, psychosis hallucinations, roaring rages and paranoia disrupt nearly every hour of our lives. It's easy to feel a lot of things - it's also easy to be misled by lies, misguided by expectations, and swept away by comparison. Hmm.... what's new/unique about that last sentence? Absolutely nothing. At the core, our family is dealing with the same issues as every other family. 

It's so tempting to believe that we are alone, that no one understands or relates. It's easy, in our humanness, to feel like we have to climb out of our pits with our own bare hands, to come up with some clever idea to change our circumstance, and to be strong enough for ourselves and everyone around us. When that's our mindset we've got it all wrong; we've been deceived and we run the risk of being full on worn-out. 

The humbling truth is that we were not created to mount up on our own strength, but to cry out to the One who is higher than our lowly place; rest in and rely on the One who will mount us up on wings like an eagle. In our weakness, in our disbelief, in our loneliness and lamenting our God wants us to "yet praise Him" (Psalm 42), not strive, in our own strength, and wear ourselves out... trying to be god of our own world. 

"Do you not know?  Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God,    the Creator of the ends of the Earth. He will not grow tired or weary,  and his understanding no one can fathom. He gives strength to the weary    and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary,    and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord    will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles;    they will run and not grow weary,    they will walk and not be faint." Isaiah 40:28-31

Can't Turn Back the Clock, Love Loudly This Hour

Full of toys and Eric Carl decals on the walls, we each took our turn in her office. She asked us deep questions regarding Evod; my pregnancy with him, how we came up with his name, his birth, our first days with him, what our worst fears are in terms of his future, etc... For Eric, the session took less than an hour. For me, it took over two. I know though, just because I had more words to say it doesn't mean I "feel" any more than Eric does. We are in this; as parents, lovers, friends, flawed humans, together. 

We briefly discussed our sessions and quickly discovered that we both started crying at the exact same question, "If you could change anything, what would you change." We both wish that we would have enjoyed more of our time with Evod; when things were easier, when our son wasn't tormented with anxiety and psychosis, when he received our love as easily as we gave it. 

At this time last year, our son was starting Kindergarten. He was bright eyed and so eager, with his curly hair and big grin. As I picture him, in my head, I desperately wish I could go back and hug him tighter, hold him longer and know that I stamped a permanent memory of love and encouragement in his beautiful mind. 

As I shuffle through the memories from one year ago, I had no way of knowing that he was having nocturnal seizures (the would soon escalate in frequency and intensity) and was facing such serious hurdles in his, barely, five year old life. But, soon, it would be evident as he, quite literally, had a mental breakdown within the first three weeks of Kindergarten. His teacher and I were in constant communication as she saw his very serious and rapid decline, and my utter shock, of what was unfolding in front of me. I did not see this coming. How could I? How could I ever have predicted my five year old expressing thoughts of suicide and slowly beginning to slip through my fingers? Im sorry, that's not something I ever saw myself having to omit from the scrapbook of memories collected from Evod's fifth year of life.

But, it is our life, and I don't want to keep my lips sealed and shy away from sharing about our very real life; struggles, victories, mistakes, fears, and hopes. I refuse to hide in embarrassment or fear. I refuse to waste time only resisting what God has allowed. I absolutely pray for mercy and hope for a new dawn, but I would be so blind not to see that there is STILL so much to enjoy, love, and learn from what has become of our lives. Yes, my heart breaks nearly every day with the stuff my son thinks, says, does, expresses, and endures but I love him dearly. I will never grow weary of showering him in my love and affection while trusting Jesus to cover him in grace, peace and hope. It's impossible for me to go back in time, but that only propels me to want to love my son (and my husband and daughters) more loudly NOW. This very hour, I want to love more loudly than ever before. I cannot take for granted simple things like time, ability, health... life. 

I sat in the psychiatrist's office, with tears streaming down my cheeks. While answering her questions and looking into her eyes, I couldn't help but nod my head and say, "But God..." He is bringing to life Evodence's name, He is creating depth out of our shallow souls, He is bringing strength and new life to our weary and dry bones. He is our living hope in this. Yes, I have fears but our Hope is greater still... because of Who Jesus is. Sitting there in a secular therapy session, discussing very serious and sad things, my heart was singing. Only God could do that, my friends... only God. 

Our son is starting round two of Kindergarten. This time, homeschool style. And me? It feels like I am starting Kindergarten for moms of special needs children. I have so much I need to learn, so many areas I could do better. At night, though, when I lay my head on my pillow, I simply hope that I loved loudly and pointed my sweet boy (and daughters) to the One who loves so much greater than I do, the One who is perfect in our weakness and who brings true joy that shines in the midst of physical and mental illness. Sure, I never expected our year to unfold as it did, but I also never could have imagined our joy and hope to be overflowing... like rain in the arroyo, in the middle of the dry desert, after a great and sudden downpour of rain. 

"But let all those who take refuge and put their trust in You rejoice; let them ever sing and shout for joy, because You make a covering over them and defend them; let those also who love Your name be joyful in You and be in high spirits."  Psalm 5:11