As a special needs family, it’s important to make time for laughter. In fact, that’s one of my primary priorities every single day. That and dancing like a blooming cuckoo bird to Brother’s Osborne’s latest song, “It Ain’t My Fault” … but I digress. haha. So if you need a chuckle today…enjoy:
Estrangement continues to be the most difficult mountain I’ve ever faced. It stands so tall, in fact, that I still haven’t stolen a glimpse of it’s intimidating peak.
This mountain is a place I’ve learned to call home, but not by choice. I’ve been forced to live on this awesome and horrible mountain. It has been nearly two years. Twenty-One months to be exact. It’s hard to believe.
It’s a place where joy truly does meet sorrow, because it means counting your blessings every day while still grieving those who are choosing to no longer be a part of your life.
It’s checking your phone constantly with the hope of a text or a phone call. Sometimes, checking it so often, you consider chucking the phone in the trash. The disappointment is a lot to bear. Every single day.
It’s the dread of holidays, birthdays, and special events.
It’s rarely taking a family photo and never sending out a family card.
It’s running into people who ask about them, and not having an answer. What do you say? I haven’t heard from my kid in nearly two years? I mean, what kind of monster mom is rejected by her children, right?
It’s seeing someone who knows your child and wanting to pump them for any tiny smidge of information, but then feeling like a stalker.
It’s replaying the past over and over and over again to see if you can find that tipping point when everything went wrong, but not being able to find it.
It’s apologizing more times than you can count, but never really knowing what you’re apologizing for.
It’s being heartbroken for the siblings who’ve been abandoned on the mountain too. Because of you.
It’s the willingness to give up everything for the chance of a re-do. For five minutes of time. Oh, what I’d give for five minutes.
It’s unanswered phone calls and texts.
It’s being blocked.
It’s total and complete rejection by ones you love more deeply than anything else on earth.
It’s a burden you can physically feel in your heart at all times.
But it’s also trusting God in a way you’ve never been called to trust before.
It’s banking on the fact that the Creator of the universe is big enough.
It’s believing He sees and knows all.
That nothing, not even this, has escaped Him.
That He is ever-present, rooting for reconciliation as much as I am.
That His love, mercy, and grace are sufficient, and are poured out generously, with reckless abandon, whenever I need it most by a Father who loves me more than I can fathom.
And above all, it’s accepting that He is in control and that He purposes all things. If even an atom were out of his control, after all, He wouldn’t be God.
It is trusting that this pain is not all for naught.
That in the grand scheme of eternity, each and every puzzle piece plays a part. Even this one.
And then It is taking the excruciating pain, and channeling it to fuel an unbridled love toward others.
It’s taking at least one step forward each day with hope.
At least one step.
It is seeing the world in a brand new way.
It is never taking life for granted again … seizing each and every ounce of joy and saving it in a jar, just as The Lord has saved each of my tears.
It’s hugging those who remain in my life tighter and appreciating them in a way I never could’ve had I not been placed at the mountain.
And it’s never giving up.
“God heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” Psalm 147:3
*If you are living on a mountain similar to mine, here are a few helpful articles on the subject:
There’s a time in your life that is so profound, it’s beyond words. Maybe you were a young child sitting in the middle of a long pew, and you had to work your way through a group of old ladies who smelled of Avon’s Sweet Honesty in order to get to the aisle … or perhaps you were at a revival meeting where the visiting pastor had a shock of white hair, wore a three piece suit, and spit enough spittle to fill a small bucket when he got on his holy roll … or was it a camp meeting, way out behind the cover of tall pines around a blazing bonfire with the sounds of crickets and frogs competing with the three part harmony of Our God Is An Awesome God? … Where it happened is only a minor detail. What really matters is that you’ll never forget how your heart thumped, how your hands trembled, and how your knees nearly buckled when you realized you were lost and in desperate need of Jesus.
It had to happen in that moment.
Because the sense of urgency was beyond anything you’d ever experienced before.
And so you asked the Savior Of The World into your heart.
You gave Him your life.
All of it.
And for a time, you allowed Jesus to lead you. The focus was on Him. After all, what did you, a mere sinner who was created from the dust of the earth, do to deserve eternal life? Not a thing. Your life had been bought with an extreme price, and you were fully aware of the fact that Jesus had left the glory of heaven to come to earth and suffer an indescribably cruel death for your sake. That if you had been the only one, He would’ve died for you.
Oh my goodness, with the weight of that truth comes a crashing wave of humility. So great is His love. But the human race is born into sin, and as has been proven throughout the passage of time, sin is a difficult habit to break. Abraham, Moses, King David, Sampson, Peter … each a legendary patriarch of our faith … yielded to sin. To think we’re immune to darkness when such strong men of the faith fell, is evidence of pride. And sin all began when the enemy of all enemies dared to believe he deserved to be on equal footing with God.
“Let ME be God!”
Pride was Lucifer’s achilles heel, and it remains at the root of every defiance against our holy Father. When we sin, no matter the category it falls under, the bold heading at the top of the page is PRIDE. Our will over God’s will. Yes, we begin our journey of salvation on the right path, but what the world has to offer is so tempting, so seductive. And eventually, we stumble. Sometimes we fall flat on our faces.
Thankfully, though, we serve a God who is absolute grace and mercy, and in His abundance of love for us, He lifts our blinders to allow us to get a glimpse of who we are. Just like a child who is caught in the act of disobedience, He shines the spotlight on our weaknesses. And in those divine moments, we again realize that we are powerless against our nature. That without Him, we truly are nothing. This is the gift of repentance. This is how we are transformed into His likeness. It’s part of the salvation process, the working out of our faith….so when we finally do see our Savior face to face, we’re ready.
“But we all, with unveiled face, beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory, just as from the Lord, the Spirit.”
Just my thoughts!!!