Good Morning!

I’m watching the much needed rain with the windows open. It has been over 100 degrees almost every day for the last week. The cool temperatures and the refreshing rain make creation almost voice an audible collective sigh of relief. God’s providence is at work once again.

I awoke this morning in the mood to write. Everyone is asleep and my house is quiet and dark. Much different than the normal buzz of my four mirthful mess makers. It seems as the boys all get older, paradoxically they become noisier. I always thought that as children grew out of crying and fussing as they got older and spoke in long sentences with clear thought, they would be quieter. That assumption was wrong. They talk and they expect you to respond, again with long sentences with clear thought, something that proves difficult for me as I get older. But I love them, and want, dream and strive to give the best of me to them. That’s what mothers do.

As many of you may know, Ryan had a very long seizure a couple of weeks ago. He had not had a seizure in almost 3 years. In my heart, it was my hope that somehow he had outgrown his seizures, and they had disappeared forever. But in one moment of terror, they returned, twisting knots of nausea and fear in my abdomen. Most seizures last less than 2 minutes, this one lasted 8. It seemed like forever.

As I held him waiting for the ambulance to arrive, black thoughts invaded my mind. Would Ryan be the same after such a long seizure? Would he be forever damaged and spend the rest of his days lying lifeless in a bed? I prayed with fervor and cast out the dark thoughts and talked with the 911 operator on the phone as she asked, “Is he still seizing?” I answered, “Yes, he is.” My faith wavering again, I prayed quietly, but in truth it sounded more like begging. The seizure stopped.

The ambulance arrived, oxygen and IV started and off we went to the hospital. As Ryan started to arouse from the medications I would try and get him to talk or respond just to be sure that “my Ryan” was still with us. When he started naming the numbers on the digital clock in the room, I knew he was okay. I took a deep breath and thanked God. Within a few hours we were back home.

I handle immediate stress very well. In fact, some people assume I never deal with the emotional turmoil of a situation because in the midst of the emergency I appear calm. I assume that is from my training as a nurse or just how God made me. But what people don’t see is that in just a few hours or sometimes a few days, I emotionally crumble, just like everyone else. Because I know this about myself, I start to anticipate the demise of my emotional status and wonder when the waves of despair will arrive. Unfortunately it was on my way to work the next day.

I just started back to work recently. I take care of children who need a nurse in their homes. These children are very ill. As it just so happened the child I was scheduled to take care of was a little girl who is in a vegetative state; the exact circumstance that was my fear for Ryan. Fortunately I was there alone for most of the day, and I was able to keep my emotions in check. I cried all the way home.

Over the past years, I have learned that each of us has “One Big Thing” in our lives. We all have some overwhelming challenge and usually it’s something we cannot control no matter how hard we try. If you talk to people long enough and get to know them, you can usually always find out about their “One Big Thing”. I’m sure as you are reading this you immediately are thinking of yours. Well for me, it’s Ryan’s disabilities.

For many years after Ryan’s birth I felt as if I was wearing “Ryan glasses”. I started to see the world and everything in it through the view of Ryan’s problems. Every teaching at church was about Ryan. My days were situated around Ryan’s therapies, diet or other thing we were trying at the time. I would lay awake at night thinking about how to help Ryan. I was rabidly obsessive about finding ways to save Ryan from his disabilities. I think many people start to view their “One Big Thing” this way. We try to save our loved ones, save our businesses, save our marriages, even save ourselves.

At some point along the way I saw myself from the outside. I took off the “Ryan glasses” and saw that while God had made me Ryan’s mother, teacher, and nurturer; he did not give me the job of savior. That job belonged to someone else.

As I drove home from work crying the day after Ryan’s long seizure, I had the tendency to pick up those “Ryan glasses” and put them on. But instead (and not without struggle) I laid them at Jesus’ feet for HE is our Savior. He is the one whom I am to lean on, receive comfort, strength and wisdom from, and his grace is sufficient for me and for Ryan.

I want to stop here and clarify so no one gets the wrong idea. I still look at ways to help Ryan and I am open to new therapies and such, but the key is that I am not obsessive about finding them. I am prayerful and listen to how God leads me. It is on His dime and at His time.

A friend recently made note that we (Tim & I) could be caring for Ryan for the rest of his life. Of course Tim and I have had many conversations about this reality. She asked me how I deal with it. I told her that God gives us the grace necessary to handle each day. Grace is a funny thing; it is given in small increments and cannot be stored up for long periods of time. It requires that you humble yourself daily and turn to Jesus to be your source and remembering HE is “THE One Big Thing” to save us from our “One Big Thing.”

As I finish writing this, Ryan is now next to me reading out letters from a book. He is a joy and a blessing to our family and many others. His life has great purpose as evidenced by the changes in my life for Christ. It is my hope that you will be changed too.

Blessings,

Jennifer