Breaking thru Beautifully...

When life happens and all you want to do is cry, come join me on my little adventure...for after all, sometimes, it's just about breaking thru it all....beautifully.

Archives for February 2015

Broken

There’s a song, “Bring the Rain” by Mercy Me. There was a time when I listened to it on a daily basis. It’s funny how a certain song can just be what you need to get you thru.

Today was not an easy day. First of all, it was a Physical Therapy day for me. They are never easy, but I hear it will all be better if I just hang tough.

It was day two of our radical therapy. The idea is to force an attachment. But how do you force someone to attach to you if they just aren’t that interested? Maybe she is; I honestly just don’t know. After yesterday when she realized her outside socialization had been greatly diminished, I received a letter. I’m choosing to see it as her making a positive change rather than manipulation to get what she wants. And yet, I still didn’t do all I was supposed to. I’m supposed to keep her by my side as much as possible. And I tried…but her shower took forever, and her hair took forever and there was never time for our ten minutes of coloring. Instead there was her doing everything possible to delay spending any more than the necessary amount of time with me.

Reactive Attachment Disorder. **sigh**

It’s funny how you believe you can handle anything….and then realize that perhaps, you can’t. You think you’re prepared…and find out you aren’t.

Parenthood is a lot harder than I could have ever dreamed. My son is sick. He hurts. And no one can figure out why. I think if we could just have a reason, then perhaps we could deal. Perhaps we could find some miracle drug to end his suffering once and for all. But we can’t.

Someone said to me today, “I feel broken…”

Yes.

And I’m a fixer. I like to fix things. And yet I can’t…so I’ll just keep trying, one day at a time, and hopefully, I’ll figure out to break thru…beautifully.

Here’s the song I listen to these days…

How?

How? It’s the beginning of a question.

How can I?

How could you?

How can you?

Then there is why.

Why must we?

Why must you?

Why do you?

Suffering. How? Why?

These are the questions I ask myself this week. I shared with someone earlier that the one thing that I cannot handle is watching my children suffer. And when my family gets hit, it is so hard to rebound.

And yet, my son is suffering. And there is nothing-I-can-do-about-it.

We have seen every specialist. We have tried every medication. For an entire year, he suffered from extreme, excruciating pain. I’ve never seen anything like it.

For a whole year, we finally had him almost back to normal.

And then, this past week, he’s back where he was.

Why? Why must he suffer?

How? How can you allow this to happen?

Reactive Attachment Disorder. Otherwise known as RAD. It happens when a child has been so neglected that they cannot form a bond with anyone. And they target the one who is the closest to them. We have a daughter with RAD. And unless you have lived it, you cannot possibly understand what it is like for them…for the person that they target, and for the family that suffers thru it. The stress is unbearable at times.

Why? Why was this allowed to happen?

These are the things that run thru my head this week. We are about to start something radical; hoping it will change.

I will be journaling and trying to get thru it. Hopefully, it may help someone else. Maybe it will help me as I process.

In the meantime, I will continue to pray, and try not to be too upset with Him. I know that He understands suffering; I just don’t understand why it has to be my son; my daughter; my family.

Lord, help us to break thru…and do it beautifully.

Mold Me

His works
But now, O Lord, you are our Father; we are the clay, and you are our potter; we are all the work of your hand. Isaiah 64:8

Just when I think that perhaps, just perhaps, I am finally about to lift out of this fog, a new storm rumbles in.

May I just say…”I-AM-SO-TIRED-OF-THE-STRUGGLE.”

I’m tired of my son suffering from a mysterious physical ailment that no team of specialists can seem to figure out.

I’m tired of the struggle of raising a daughter who is a product of the failure of our state system when it comes to protecting it’s children.

I sat and talked for hours with a friend-who-is-more-than-a-sister today. And we both came to one agreement…parenting adult children is harder than parenting babies.

What? 😯

Say it isn’t so!

We’ve both agreed we get less sleep now than when they were babies. Why? Because if we aren’t crying, we are praying for them…or we are crying and praying for them at the same time.

The burden that is placed on the heart of a parent of an adult child is like nothing I have ever experienced. They are adults. They will make their own mistakes. They will fail. They will suffer. They will have to learn things the hard way.

Just like we did when we were their age.

Which is why it is so much harder for us.

Because we have been there. Because we know where it leads and how painful it is. Because we can no longer put a bandaid on it and kiss it and make it feel better. Because we cannot put them in their crib or playpen and stop them from harm. Because we can no longer supervise their play-dates.

And the list goes on and on.

My daughter asked me recently, “What has He done for me?”

It has struck me to the core…that she can even ask such a question. Did I not raise her right? Have I not taught her who she can depend on? That He alone can fill the emptiness if she would just let Him?

And then…my Father reminded me of something.

He is in charge, not me. He has it all under control, not me. He is who I should be focusing on…not me.

And then, He placed this verse in my head.

 “But now, O Lord, you are our Father;

we are the clay, and you are our potter; we are all the work of your hand. Isaiah 64:8″

Mold me, Lord. Let me be the beautiful works of Your hand.

And let me break thru beautifully…

 

Archives