As I sat down to write this post, Jayci called me into her room (as she does most nights lately). She told me she was scared because her "Clifford the big red dog" stuffed animal had turned brown. Glad she couldn't see my grin in the dark, I flipped on the light to show her how he was, in fact, still red, and only looked brown in the dark.
After a few more trips to her room to alleviate a few more imagined fears, I've been sitting here thinking about how it seems as though fearfulness is hard-wired into us somehow. Jayci has no reason to be afraid, she just is. And sometimes I think it only gets harder the older you get, the more things you realize can go wrong, the more you understand of our broken world. I am realizing that for most of us, fear is one of the driving factors in our lives. Satan does a bang-up job of pinpointing our deepest fears, and whispering lies in our ears that only deepen them.
Since I've been home from the hospital, I've been having a really hard time not living in constant fear. They might not be the gut-wrenching, overwhelming fears I felt when we first found out about his defect, or while he was in surgery, or in the CICU when his blood pressure dropped . . . but they are persistent and nagging nonetheless. Fear of what else might be wrong with him. Fear he will have complications that emerge down the road from his surgery or medications. Fear that his heart will stop. Fear that I'll actually have to use the life-saving measures they taught us at the hospital. Fear that I will never get the hang of parenting two kids. And in reality, while my fears may be a different sort now, they were no less persistent before Caden was born. I feared not being a good enough mom. Not having things all together. Losing Adam or Jayci.. .
The intense feelings I experienced during Caden's hospital stay: completely helpless, with everything 100% out of my control; in some ways they have driven me to obsessively try to control things around me now. To double and triple check his breathing, his heart rate. To keep Jayci close by, lest some freak accident befall her in the other room. . . Unfortunately, trying to control things so carefully only reminds me how little I can actually control. Which only scares me more. And the funny thing is that the most at peace I have felt was when Caden lay in a hospital bed with his chest wide open. Why? Because I had no choice but to surrender control to the One who has been in control all along.
And the key to overcoming our fears lies right there, I think: in surrender. Because it cannot be simply about NOT fearing anything ever. That's just not going to happen. Why do you think God tells us over and over again: "do not fear." It must be because, over and over again, we DO fear. We lose sight of the one who is carrying us, and we begin to sink in the crashing waves. We forget that although we WILL have trouble in this world, there is One who has overcome the world.
I know women, and especially moms, tend to be worriers. About how we look, what we wear, what we eat. About how we appear to others, how much the men in our lives love us, about how much we are doing, how well we are performing. About how we mother, how our children behave . . . I could keep going and going. And for me, the list of worries seems never-ending.
I'm realizing that I can either choose to trust or to fear. Not both. And that choosing to trust does not necessarily mean nothing bad will happen. It doesn't mean we wont have our house broken into, or that Jayci wont fall and break her leg at some point. It doesn't mean we wont have a child born with a major heart defect, or that that he wont have more medical issues down the road. But it DOES mean that we can have peace even when things do go wrong. That we can still rely on the goodness of a God who loves us, even through our day-to-day fears and anxieties.
I'm also realizing something else. Fears seem a lot worse in the dark. Darkness causes our eyes to play tricks, to make big red dogs "turn brown." It is only by walking in the Light, walking with The Light, that we will be reminded of the truth. That red is still red. That God is still in control. That we are still who God says we are, and He is still who He says He is. Even when things are dark.
"Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God." Philippians 4:6
After a few more trips to her room to alleviate a few more imagined fears, I've been sitting here thinking about how it seems as though fearfulness is hard-wired into us somehow. Jayci has no reason to be afraid, she just is. And sometimes I think it only gets harder the older you get, the more things you realize can go wrong, the more you understand of our broken world. I am realizing that for most of us, fear is one of the driving factors in our lives. Satan does a bang-up job of pinpointing our deepest fears, and whispering lies in our ears that only deepen them.
Since I've been home from the hospital, I've been having a really hard time not living in constant fear. They might not be the gut-wrenching, overwhelming fears I felt when we first found out about his defect, or while he was in surgery, or in the CICU when his blood pressure dropped . . . but they are persistent and nagging nonetheless. Fear of what else might be wrong with him. Fear he will have complications that emerge down the road from his surgery or medications. Fear that his heart will stop. Fear that I'll actually have to use the life-saving measures they taught us at the hospital. Fear that I will never get the hang of parenting two kids. And in reality, while my fears may be a different sort now, they were no less persistent before Caden was born. I feared not being a good enough mom. Not having things all together. Losing Adam or Jayci.. .
The intense feelings I experienced during Caden's hospital stay: completely helpless, with everything 100% out of my control; in some ways they have driven me to obsessively try to control things around me now. To double and triple check his breathing, his heart rate. To keep Jayci close by, lest some freak accident befall her in the other room. . . Unfortunately, trying to control things so carefully only reminds me how little I can actually control. Which only scares me more. And the funny thing is that the most at peace I have felt was when Caden lay in a hospital bed with his chest wide open. Why? Because I had no choice but to surrender control to the One who has been in control all along.
And the key to overcoming our fears lies right there, I think: in surrender. Because it cannot be simply about NOT fearing anything ever. That's just not going to happen. Why do you think God tells us over and over again: "do not fear." It must be because, over and over again, we DO fear. We lose sight of the one who is carrying us, and we begin to sink in the crashing waves. We forget that although we WILL have trouble in this world, there is One who has overcome the world.
I know women, and especially moms, tend to be worriers. About how we look, what we wear, what we eat. About how we appear to others, how much the men in our lives love us, about how much we are doing, how well we are performing. About how we mother, how our children behave . . . I could keep going and going. And for me, the list of worries seems never-ending.
I'm realizing that I can either choose to trust or to fear. Not both. And that choosing to trust does not necessarily mean nothing bad will happen. It doesn't mean we wont have our house broken into, or that Jayci wont fall and break her leg at some point. It doesn't mean we wont have a child born with a major heart defect, or that that he wont have more medical issues down the road. But it DOES mean that we can have peace even when things do go wrong. That we can still rely on the goodness of a God who loves us, even through our day-to-day fears and anxieties.
I'm also realizing something else. Fears seem a lot worse in the dark. Darkness causes our eyes to play tricks, to make big red dogs "turn brown." It is only by walking in the Light, walking with The Light, that we will be reminded of the truth. That red is still red. That God is still in control. That we are still who God says we are, and He is still who He says He is. Even when things are dark.
"Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God." Philippians 4:6