Sometimes parenthood is hard. Understatement, right? This is the drive a knife in your heart, keep you up at night kind of stuff. The shit that drives your spouse crazy because you won't relent and he drives you crazy because he can't see things through your set of lenses. It doesn't really matter what the issue is. Pick any issue; why isn't my kid talking, why isn't my kid reading, why can't my kid hit the ball, why is my kid overweight, why doesn't my kid have friends, why didn't my kid get invited, why didn't my kid get into that school, why did that person break my kid's heart, why didn't they get into medical school, why can't they find a mate, why can't they get pregnant....The anxiety can be overwhelming. There is a natural ebb and flow with parenthood. Times when it's smooth sailing, everyone is happy and healthy and we are all living the American Dream. The trick is to maintain sanity in the valleys. Learning to take deep breaths, trust and have faith.
I'm sure if you looked at a scatter plot of my life and years lived were on the X-axis and prayers uttered were on the Y-axis, you'd see points clustered randomly over time. But if you superimposed a timeline of life's events you'd see that the clusters correlate perfectly with the most stressful moments of life. I wonder if God gets sick of us and the 911 prayers. Does He feel used?
No one wants their kid to face adversity of any kind. It doesn't matter the adversity...the mean teacher, the bad coach, the bullies at school, acne, stuttering, illness...we all want to shield our babies. And no matter the age, they are always our babies.
What I continually have to wrap my mind around is the fact that they are simply on loan to us. They've been entrusted into our care for such a short period of time. And if they don't learn how to handle difficult or uncomfortable or adverse situations while they live with us, it will be so much more painful when they are not with us (and the stakes will be so much higher). Also, the big reveal here is that as much as I love my kid, there is a God in heaven who loves them even more. And that God didn't just put our kid on this planet for the pleasure and enjoyment of his/her parents. That same God in heaven has a purpose and plan for your kid that extend beyond the 18 years they live under your roof. If you kid is fortunate enough to live out their existence that is listed in actuarial table, 18 years is a fraction of their life. So, every time my stomach is in knots and I can't sleep, I hand the kid over one more time. I unclench my hands and say here you go God. He/she is yours. You dry their tears, heal their broken heart, calm their fears and you teach them how to be joyful in spite of their circumstance. And dear, precious, merciful God, show me, guide me, walk the steps for me. I DO NOT KNOW HOW TO DO THIS. I repeat. I DON'T KNOW WHAT THE F*CK I AM DOING!
And I pray and realize how small I really am. But that is okay. Because just like Horton could hear the Hoo, God can hear me and he can hear my kid. He's not a magical genie, but he is present and that's all that matters.
Breathe in and breathe out.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
No comments:
Post a Comment