It's like bidding farewell to a beloved season as the next approaches sooner than promised by the calendar or weather man. Like when the leaves changed colors too rapidly; from green to brown on the ground, and the vibrant hues of oranges and reds didn't last long enough and we are left with bare branches for miles and miles. Maybe the last of the snow melted before we created all the memories in it that we had anticipated; sledding, snow angels and snow ball fights, or the lilac blossoms' fragrant beauty was cut short by the harsh wind that cuts like prematurely wielded pruning scissors. Whatever the sudden switch up of seasons might be, we often just feel gypped. Why? Why can't our favorite season just last forever....
I have typed the words "mental illness" so much that parts of me have become numb to the letters that make up those words, while there are still parts of me in shock that I am even having to type them at all. This.... this wasn't in the calendar. This wasn't a part of the plan. Well, not my plan, anyway.
My how I miss yesterday. By "yesterday" I mean, that last season of our lives where Intractable Epilepsy and Mental Illness didn't seem to daily rob my son and daughters, of the childhood I had envisioned and anticipated for them. This, none of it, incorporates naturally into my "to do" lists, calendars, plans. Mental Illness doesn't cooperate with my schedule, my wants, my hobbies, or my dreams. Seeing my eldest daughter with her knees to her chest, hands over her ears, and tears in her eyes because she just wants it all to be over, hearing my youngest daughter (outside of the womb) scream because she is frightened, hearing/seeing/feeling my son seemingly coming unraveled in front of my own eyes, then [at other just as sobering moments] trying to articulate what it's like to be him; live inside of his suffering and struggles- yeah, none of that fits into what I thought their lives were supposed to be.
Today was hard. For a moment, Eric and I were at odds, at a loss, as sometimes this is just simply too painful, too confusing... too much. Once again my heart was crushed because it was absolutely impossible for me to make it all stop; make it all better for everyone. In the middle of Evod's episode I wanted to scream so incredibly loud. I wanted to throw something. I wanted to run out of my front door. I wanted to be out of this house and saturated by sunlight and fresh air. I wanted to breath. I wanted to snap my fingers and suddenly [peacefully] be with my family rolling down green hills, hiking in the mountain, having a water balloon fight, or even a picnic full of gluten and snacks I never buy. But I was here with my being, after a year and a half of this, still stunned by it all. My life felt so out of control, as it does every single day, and everything in me was resisting it. I just wanted yesterday back.
But, alas... this is the new canvas that our lives are being painted upon by the hands of an Artist who happens to be our King, who is also our sovereign Lord. Parts of me wants to scream and resist and remove the words "mental illness" from my vocabulary. But, what good would that do? After all, to me, genuine hope and faith, and the supposed "power of positive thinking" are two very different things. I cannot ignore this and trust God at the same time. All of this, unless God chooses or until we are in Heaven, is not going away. Yes, I feel like God is wrecking my life. How dare He, right? Wrong. He gives and takes away... as He pleases; for His purposes, for His glory. Even in my utter brokenness, I am genuinely comforted by that. This life, as it is, has purpose and glory can come, and I pray IS coming, from these ashes like the grandest of all rainbows, earthly wonders, or songs whispered from our hearts.
As God is wrecking the life that we once knew, I cannot lie or deny that my human hands sometimes cling to yesterday so tightly, and my heart pleads for God to let this cup pass from my son [my family]. But, even when I am blinded by my own tears, I am blessedly reassured by His faithfulness. I am continually reminded not just by what my eyes see, but what they often can't see, that He is near and making all things new, according to His plans. His beautiful plan.
"He is before all things, and in him all things hold together." -Colossians 1:17
In
all
seasons
...
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