Not Today

It has been a struggle for me to write lately. A struggle in my mind, in my heart, in my being. Writing has served as a release for me; a way of organizing my thoughts and emotions so that I can move forward. But I have avoided it lately; in part because of my busyness, and in part because I have been in a funk for at least 6 months. Discovering my funk's origin is the first step to being rescued. I think part of me didn't want to come out, couldn't come out. Was there any way out? I don't know if there have been an inordinate amount of deaths around me this year, or if I am just more aware because I have allowed myself to be involved in the lives of families with sick children. But it seems like a lot. For the first year of Reese's life, I avoided anything and everything that would suggest I might lose Reese early. I was not ready to hear it and I did not want to think about it. For me, and I am sure for most parents of children with disabilities, the most devastating reality, and possibly the only devastation, is the news delivered as "life expectancy". Anything short of 72 years is unacceptable when it comes to our children. We are not supposed to bury them, and when they said we would, my world changed forever. I know the meaning and the feeling of the word "agony". So, without thinking and without meaning to do so, every day has been encircled with the subliminal thought, Is this the day? I know, it is awful and it is terrible and it is sad, but how can I not? And when children are leaving earth and are leaving their families, passing away around us, how could I not think this way? Some have suggested that I avoid such information, stay out of these circles, in order to preserve my own emotions. But what does that mean? Should I not bear another mom's burden as she carries the unimaginable weight of losing a child because it causes me too much pain? That might seem logical for a moment, but isn't it really just selfish? I can't avoid pain in an effort to remain comfortable. Because wouldn't I want all hands on deck for us when we have to bear such a weight? So that is where I have been. Dealing with the loss of children in our sphere, and also addressing Reese's "prognosis" (oh how I hate that word!) in my mind and soul. How can I not think about it? How can I not? And some days it is really just too much to take. That's my funk. The good news...and there is some...is that God has been gently and lovingly, oh so lovingly, summoning me from that pit. Calling out to me, even when I'd rather cover my ears and wallow. First I have to decide that I do not WANT to continue living with a Spirit of Dread. I do have a choice. I have to choose to LIVE today instead of dread. And God is giving me the courage and the strength to choose the former, one day at a time. They tell me Reese may pass away early, but you know what? NOT TODAY. NOT TODAY! SO today, at least in this moment:), I will not live in dread of "that day". I choose to enjoy Reese and everyone I love, and to bring them joy and bring love and bring hope. My dreams of what would be the perfect life are, at the root, a desire for God. Not the absence of dread or pain but knowing Him and trusting Him and enjoying Him. All of HIM in His fullness, to really know Him and experience Him as He intended. Isn't that what all of our dreams really are, deep down? We were created with that desire and for that desire. And THAT I can have today. Isaiah 26:3 You will keep in perfect peace him whose mind is steadfast, because he trusts in you.