Out of the Dark Blue Sky

Sometimes it comes out of the blue like a shooting star in the middle of the vast night sky. Except, this isn't one of those more magical, wondrous moments. Instead, they are moments that often feel like I am free falling off the top of the moon; gaining speed while only losing control.

He's sick, in some abstract ways, and I hate those moments that feel like we are losing even more of him. Psychotic, delusional, and manic episodes can last for minutes, hours or days - or more. And, they have the ability to crush my heart without even laying a finger on it. Oh, how I often wish I could simply reach out my hand to my sweet boy and he would grip it, and I could just pull him back to us - pull him far away from all the internal dangers, fears, anxieties, pain, hallucinations and delusions that torment him. I wish, so badly, that I could go into his mind and battle those things that are invisible to me, for him; on his behalf. Ahh, but I can't. It's a hard thing to take sometimes isn't it - not being able to do the impossible. Though I can't do the impossible, I battle in ways that are absolutely powerful. I am unable to join our son in his broken brain, but I pray to the One who is more than able to do what I cannot.

Some days it's not only hard to see past the destruction that's surrounding us all, and sucking us in, but we also feel mute, like our son cannot hear our love and affections that we are trying our best to verbalize and articulate to his tender, delicate self. It hurts so badly to desperately try to offer and convey love and truth to our first born while it appears as though not a word of it penetrates his ears. But, beyond the hurt and dismay, I believe that the Holy Spirit, like the most timely and efficient postman, hand delivers our love from our lips and hearts straight to Evod's heart and soul. Ah, yes, I believe wholeheartedly that our God can do [is doing] the impossible. Even on days like today, that are hard, heavy and feel so overcast inside of us, I know God is moving in Evodence. And more important than even seeing our love, I know Evod sees his Redeemer's love reflecting like light in the darkness. Oh, let it be known - Mental Illness cannot limit God or vanquish His radiant power and light, in our son or anyone.

Truth. On some of the dark days, I have to purposefully remind myself of it too, as fear tries to not just creep in but smother my family. Juvenile Mental Illness; the symptoms of On-Set Schizophrenia/ Bipolar Disorder I (different than Bipolar II), Anxiety Disorder, etc... are scary. I can't deny it. But, just because something is scary doesn't mean we have to fear it! I know that might sound absurd and impossible, but it's neither of those things. By God's grace I don't have to fear our son's prognosis, symptoms, or future. Absolutely some days and moments seem so incredibly dark and hopeless but, thank God, things aren't always as they seem. Even in the pitch dark there is a light within us; guiding us and illuminating truth; lighting up Hope.

This morning drew so many tears out of me, and so many fears were being stirred in me, but as I sit here to write, surrender, and reflect - God, by His Spirit, is deeply encouraging me. I don't know what tomorrow, or the the next hour, holds. I absolutely cannot do the impossible. But, I wasn't ever meant to know everything or be able to do everything - even rescue my son from Mental Illness. Instead, in this hour and every single one that follows, regardless of how bright our dark, I am desperate for the One who does know everything and is, indeed, able. And, whose love for my sweet boy reaches beyond the stars - even beyond the magical and wondrous shooting ones.

                         In this, He is able. In our son, just as he is, God is able. In the darkness, He is light.