That’s it! I’ve had it! I can’t take one more day like this, so I’m running away from home, and I’m never coming back.
You know the type of days I’m talking about. These are the kind where everyone wants a piece of you, and there’s not enough to go around.
First, there are my oh-so-needy kids. Despite their age, I can barely use a bathroom without them requiring something of me.
“Mom! I’m ready to infuse!” The shout comes from my son, needles, gauze, and over $1,000 in clotting factor laid out for his IV.
“Mommy, I’m sorry. I just can’t fall asleep,” my youngest struggles with her ADHD lack of self-regulation at 1:00 AM again.
“Mom, are your joints hurting today, ‘cuz mine sure are,” my eldest laments with her still-to-be-diagnosed arthralgia as she asks for a ride to work to relieve her pain.
Then there are the times where the kid with anxiety emotionally crashes head on with the kid with ADHD and Asperger’s. The two come together in explosive ways, and I tire of hearing the bickering and claims of injustice. It feels like all the biblical instruction that I’ve poured into them over the years has suddenly evaporated before my very eyes.
Once I get the kids peacefully settled, someone else is after me. At one moment, it’s the billing service wondering when they can expect payment on my child’s visit that they have again incorrectly billed. The next moment, it’s the insurance company trying to verify whether or not we have duplicate coverage before they agree to finally pay an overdue claim. Another moment, it’s the pharmacy calling about complications with filling our daughter’s prescription. And still another moment, it’s the doctor’s office wondering if we are ever going to make that appointment to pursue some more involved medical tests to get answers for one of the kids.
It’s hard to behave with the love of Christ, as His ambassador to a messed-up world when I feel so utterly overwhelmed myself.
I’ve had it! I want to escape with the girlfriends who I never get to see enough these days. I want to sit in the shade and read a book, uninterrupted for hours. I want to dip my toes in the crystal clear waters on balmy summer day. I want some disposable income that doesn’t have to go towards medical bills. I’d be willing to be that you would like to come with me!
But if I run away, I lose so many of the ways God has poured out His blessings on me. No longer do I get to see the world through the mystifying, unique and intelligent eyes of my Aspie girl. If I walk away from all of this, I draw further away from the incredibly profound way that hemophilia cradles me in the intimacy of knowing that there is “power in the blood”. When I disconnect from this brood, I lose some of that holy fellowship of suffering that I share with each of them and Jesus.
Yes, the sorrow of special needs parenting may last for the toughest, most demanding days with my kids, but the joy that follows overwhelms it all.
Besides, Jesus reminds me when I start packing my bags, “Anyone who loves their life will lose it, while anyone who hates their life in this world will keep it for eternal life.” (John 12:25, NIV) So, I guess I will just call an end to my grown-up tantrum for now and keep my bags packed for eternity.
You with me?
Photo image courtesy of sattva via Free Digital Photos.net