The last two weeks have swirled by with the fury of a blizzard. I use the word blizzard because much of it felt as if I were stranded in blackout conditions. It really wasn't so much the circumstances, but my inability to handle them.
For the past 14 days, someone in my house has been sick. They have been so painfully sick that we have had numerous trips to the doctors, hospitals and finally a three-day stint at Brenner's Children's Hospital. My sad, pitifully merciless heart has grown a bit as I have held my two oldest while they have writhed, cried and screamed their way through the massive cramping and stabbing war going on in their bellies. What is must be like for parents who must experience this daily with their chronically ill spawn. That is a journey I beg God not to send me through.
My own inability to soothe my children, bring them comfort, find a solution has sent me spiraling. It is that battle of control, once again. The urge to focus, become obsessive, on matters completely not eternal, has wound me tighter than a tick. Ranting has, unfortunately, become the norm and it only takes a tiny blip in my scheduling to send me careening over the edge of the tightrope I walk as a mother. I am gone before I can even attempt to grab at that rope and salvage some bit of the show. My husband, my children, my extended family, even the dog -no one has been immune.
I could list everything on my mind at this very minute, but none of them really matter. What I do recognize is that I am in a very bad place. I do not have the skills to make sense of it all. This is not how I want to live as I have lived better. I am not enjoying this season of life and I should. Sometimes, you just have to know when to raise the white flag of surrender...again.