Another Part of the Story

Many people, my daughter included, have asked me when I intend on writing the rest of her story.  That's a tricky question.  Let me explain why.

This past week said daughter sent me a poem she had written for her creative writing class; a beautiful poem about what she thought love was before, and what she grew to learn it truly was. As I read I was not expecting the emotional response my body would have.  All those past feelings from the time of her struggles, all the heartache a parent has when their child suffers, all the anxiety that overcame my being at that time, it all returned in a few short sentences.  The immediate threat was no longer present, but that did not mean my body knew how to respond differently.

I have was is called emotional PTSD.  It is very real.  While I am doing a lot of thought work, redirecting and reframing emotions, that takes time and practice.  I did that this week, reworking my emotions and working through my thoughts after I finished the poem.  These are the reasons I am not ready to publish the rest of her story, yet.  I have more emotional work to do before I am ready to readdress that time in my life again.

So, thank you for your patience.  I know some of you want to hear her story so that you can get answers for the struggles you are currently working through with your own children.  In a way, I guess I just gave you another very real piece of the story.  Sometimes that ugliness continues even when everyone is in a much more joyous, balanced place. And that's just reality.


Her Poem:

I thought love was beautiful.

I thought it was messy and chaotic

But somehow, still beautiful.

I thought love was a goodnight kiss

And a wink that left you with a feeling

Of hope for the good morning smile.

I thought love was playful.

I thought love was colors

And laughter that grew like

Vines into beautiful flowers that

Bloomed into spasmodically-

Colored petals and sweet aromas.

I thought love was strong.

I thought love was two against

Everything else and nothing

Else mattered and no one else

Could intrude and protection went both ways.

I thought love was strong.

I didn’t think love would hurt.

I didn’t think love would leave me

Feeling like I did something wrong

Or like I wasn’t doing enough or

Like I wasn’t worthy of trust or that

I had been alone for so long because I could say no.

I didn’t think love was a tempest.

I didn’t think love would leave me

Bruised and bleeding on the shower floor

Because there was no one else to hurt

Except for myself because no matter what

I said he wouldn’t believe me when I told the truth.

I didn’t think love was supposed to turn its back on you.

I didn’t think love was that feeling where you

Can’t stop crying and must stop breathing

Because the breath drowns you in salt

And vinegar and bitter farewells.

I didn’t think love was supposed to hurt so much.

So I left.

And love became beautiful again.

Love became everything I had hoped

And everything I thought it was meant to be

And we laugh and we cry and we drive

Each other nuts but our love is beautiful

Just like love should be.

I thought love was supposed to be beautiful

Because it is. Our love grows flowers

That blossom in starlight because love

Shines bright in the dark and holds you

When your world is caving in around you

And the only thing holding you together is love.

And that’s when I realized that love is a sunset.

Love is a sun that sets on the heartache

And rises into something worth keeping

And working on until it is polished brighter

Than the diamond on my finger.

This is love, and it is beautiful.

September - Serve the Ailing, Serve the Struggling #davidsmission

As I sat down and planned our service themes for this year I didn't realize that this was childhood cancer awareness month. When three of my dear friends posted on social media, bringing this awareness to my mind, I was awed by the inspiration I had received to choose the theme I did for this month: Serve the Ailing/Serve the Struggling.

Although it has been a few years or more since my friends' children or loved ones have battled cancer, I still think often about what a difficult thing it would be to watch your child fight this disease.  I also think of all the support they had to have received to get through such a fight; support that gave them strength to endure watching one more treatment, take part in one more sleepless night, clean up one more bout of throw-up.  No parent should ever have to do something like this alone.

I have always loved the thought that we become the angels God needs on earth, to administer the help He would give it He were here.  We are needed by those who are afflicted, by those who are barely keeping their heads above water, by those who are silently suffering from mental anguish. Even those small acts that seem like mere drops in an empty bucket can relieve the thirst of a parched soul. 

Our family has chosen to keep this service close to home.  There are many in our church family who need relief in one way or another.  We will fast and pray for them; we will bring treats and a visit; we will babysit children so they can have a much needed night out; we will visit the lonely; we will be friends.

What will you do this month to become an angel?