Sometimes, bad theology can seriously mess with a person’s head… even when they are fully aware that it’s bad theology. People keep telling me that God knew I would be the right mother for Josh, so He entrusted Josh to our keeping. The reality is that God doesn’t have a bunch of kids up there, some messed up and others ‘normal’ (I use that term ‘normal’ very loosely as I don’t believe Josh or any child with special needs is ‘abnormal’…) Anyway, God doesn’t have that going on up there, he’s not sitting there going ‘okay, you are strong enough, you can cope, you can handle this, I will give you the kid with a heart defect, or the kid with brain injury or… (insert any other issue a child might have in this spot’) God doesn’t say ‘you are strong enough’ he says ‘I will give you the strength you need’. However, in the dark of night when the worries invade my sleep and I can’t see a way out… that’s when I think maybe God made a mistake by giving Josh to me. I just don’t think I am up to this task some days.
I know that there is help out there, that I just need to dig deeper to find the resources available, the funding that must be there… but the road seems so long sometimes. I see it stretching out before me, all the appointments, the meetings, the paper work, the endless emails, phone calls, trips around the city, the days out of school, the time not spent with Kaleb, the babysitting for him and let’s not forget the disappointments and all I want to do is crawl back into bed and wish it all away. I can’t help but ask myself and God how we got here? Why? Why did this happen to him?
There are days of course when I am not feeling sorry for Josh and myself, the days when he is clearly improving, days when he is laughing and playing and it seems like absolutely nothing can diminish the light he brings to our lives. Those are the days that I can see his strides forward, the days that I can see the trees in the forest, the days when there are no monsters waiting behind the trees, waiting to jump out and snatch us into their clutches. They are good days, they are for the most part the daily outlook in this home, they are the ‘norm’. It’s not like I sit here every day thinking that our life sucks, or that it’s hopeless. Our life doesn’t suck, we have two beautiful children, a happy marriage, a home filled with laughter, shrieks and giggles and gains every day in development.
It is the days when the light is hiding behind clouds, when I see Josh struggle, when I hear disappointing news, or as is the case this week, when I see a mountain in front of us and I can’t see how I can possibly gather the strength necessary to climb it, let alone carry Josh up it. Those are the days that the questions come, the days that the doubts set in, the days that I just want to hide. They are the days that I think to myself ‘I am failing him’. They are the days that I see my selfish side coming out, the side that says ‘I don’t want this’, or ‘I didn’t ask for this’ or even ‘this is not how it’s supposed to be’.
Do I really believe that God gave me Josh because he thought I could cope with it… not at all, do I honestly believe he made a mistake? Not for even a second. Can I cope with it? Only with His strength. Will we get through this? Only in His power. God brought this little man into our lives as a gift, a treasure that we find pure joy in, I don’t know what life would be like if he were not in our family, he and his little brother. I don’t know how I got along in life before them. The question really is, do I have the courage to do this, do I have the courage that it will take to just stand up, face it, fight back and do everything possible to help Josh win. Can I be patient enough to wait on God? Can I let Him lead us? Can I let go of the control and allow God to take the reigns?
What is the next step? Where do we go from here?
With Josh’s heart we have a whole team of the best doctors out there, they are there to say to me ‘we have this’. They look at his heart and they say ‘we’ll do this and if that doesn’t work we will try this… etc etc. His brain is a mystery to us. A brain injury can’t just be fixed. It takes time, patience and faith. No one has the answers I am looking for.
Last night before bed, the only thing I could think of to do was to touch is little head and pray for healing. It’s all we have left when it comes to this problem. No one can ‘go in and fix it’. Therapy will help him, that we know. How much will it help? That is the guessing game that I am struggling with this week.