Fighting

I know the Bible says "I will fight your enemies and I will save your children" (Isaiah 49:25 NCV). It says "Like a shield He protects the innocent. He makes sure that justice is done and He protects those who are loyal to Him" (Proverbs 2:7-8 NCV).

My son is the innocent one the Bible speaks of. He is the child it speaks of. I am fighting to believe these scriptures because on the surface it appears that it's not true. In the natural, it looks like God is not upholding His promises. I am struggling to remember that God's protection is not the same as the way I would protect my son. I would do it differently. I would move swiftly, removing the source of the problem. That's what I want God to do. I'm tired of waiting while I have to sit and watch my son go through pain. I have to pick up the pieces and try to explain the unexplainable to him. I have to try and teach him the right way to be, while he is witnessing firsthand the wrong way to be. I have to hand him over while every fiber of my being screams not to do it, but having no other choice.

I cover him in prayer. Plead the blood of Jesus over him. Hold my breath until he is back in my arms again. All the time going back and forth between believing God is moving and wondering if He is listening to my pleas at all. Satan wages war on my mind and my heart. I am just weary of fighting him.

So I search the scriptures for new fuel for my fight. And I find this..."The Lord says, 'Forget what happened before, and do not think about the past. Look at the new thing I am going to do. It is already happening. Don't you see it?'" ( Isaiah 43:18-19 NCV)

I do see the new thing...little glimpses that keep me hopeful. God is allowing me tiny, tiny peeks at what is coming. I am trying to hold on. I am trying to look in the direction God is pointing.

Someone once told me that satan doesn't fight you unless you are on the path God has for you. He doesn't have to worry with those who are not doing the right thing. He already has those people in his grasp. It's the ones who are on God's side, who are choosing light over darkness, that satan tries to steer the other way.

All I know is that satan is trying to steer me away. He puts those fears, doubts and pain into my life. He throws them with such force that it knocks the breath out of me. Even while I'm on the ground, stuggling to regain my composure and footing, I am trying to look in God's direction. I am pointing it out to my son. We are looking to the light, to the only One who can save us.

I am choosing to believe the scriptures. I am choosing to believe that Psalm 91 is true. I am choosing to believe in God Almighty.

"Those who go to God Most High for safety will be protected by the Almighty.
I will say to the Lord, "You are my place of safety and protection. You are my God and I trust you."
God will save you from hidden traps and from deadly diseases.
He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you can hide. His truth will be your shield and protection.
You will not fear any danger by night or an arrow during the day.
You will not be afraid of diseases that come in the dark or sickness that strikes at noon.
At your side one thousand people may die, or even ten thousand right beside you, but you will not be hurt.
You will only watch and see the wicked punished.
The Lord is your protection; you have made God Most High your place of safety.
Nothing bad will happen to you; no disaster will come to your home.
He has put his angels in charge of you to watch over you wherever you go.
They will catch you in their hands so that you will not hit your foot on a rock.
You will walk on lions and cobras; you will step on strong lions and snakes.
The Lord says "Whoever loves me, I will save. I will protect those who know me.
They will call to me, and I will answer them. I will be with them in trouble; I will rescue and honor them.
I will give them a long, full life, and they will see how I can save."

When to Stop...

My son has a battery operated tractor he rides around the yard. He often rides it up the driveway to help me get the mail. Now our driveway is loooonnnggg. He sometimes rides ahead of me but always stops at the "tree line". He gets off the tractor and holds my hand as we near the street. I even go so far as to hold him as we take the mail out of the box so he won't be tempted to break my grasp. Yesterday was different.

He didn't stop at the tree line. He didn't stop as I called his name. He didn't stop as I screamed his name so loudly the whole street heard me. He didn't stop as I was running as fast as I could to stop him, even though he really wasn't that much ahead of me. He was just far enough out of reach....

He finally stopped about a foot away from the edge of the road. The very, very busy road. I don't think I have ever been so afraid of anything in my whole life. This could have ended badly. But praise God, he did stop. All I could do was grab him up in my arms and thank God for protecting my baby.

After recovering from my heart attack, G recovering from the punishment of not riding his tractor along with not being allowed to ride it to the mailbox again, and some serious prayer, God planted some ideas in my mind.

How many times did I hurdle toward something so dangerous, not caring about the voice telling me to stop? How many times did I do something because it looks great, not caring about the consequence? How many times has God Himself saved me from a terrible fate by stopping me at just the right time?

My son and I have since spoken about the importance of listening. And the importance of trusting. I need to be able to trust that he will follow my directions. Again, God laid it on me....do I listen to Him? Do I heed His warnings? Do I follow His directions? I had to be honest with Him, and myself, and admit that I don't always.

Dear God, please help me this day (and every day) to be mindful of Your voice. Give me ears to hear, eyes open to what You want me to see and a heart to obey. Help me to impart this lesson to my little one. And I thank You again and again for keeping us both safe.

Remembering...

I haven't written about my son's birthday yet. He turned 3 in April. This was the first year he really understood what a birthday is all about. He picked out the cake he wanted, the balloons and general theme. Was it a surprise to any of us that it would be tractors? Or that the cake should be a blue tractor like Papa's?

What was a surprise to me was the way my guy turned his cake around to blow out the candles. He couldn't reach them too well so he just adjusted it to suit him. He then liked it so much, we had to sing and light the candles two more times! Compared to last year when he covered his ears when we sang, this was high praise (and let me assure you that I haven't had any improvement in my singing voice).

Birthdays are a pretty emotional time for me. I remember all of the struggles we've faced. I think back to the many visits to the NICU, the tears of coming home from the hospital without my baby in my arms, and the weeks away from home while we waited for him to grow and heal.

Then I think of our family life. Once we got home the stress was high, sleep was lacking and things went from bad to worse. An already volatile situation exploded. Only four months after this beautiful baby was born, I was separated from my husband. By the end of the year, I was divorced. Needless to say, the first year of this guy's life was far from what I had wanted for him.

Now it sounds like I'm having a pity party. But really I'm not. I've asked God to keep certain things fresh in my memory. There are mistakes that I don't want to make again. Only by recalling them from time to time makes it possible to be sure that I don't go down the same road. I've asked God to help me remember the hurdles, the struggles, the challenges. Now I can truly appreciate the life we have now.

My son's past medical issues make his current health all that much sweeter. His past speech issues make his current words that much clearer. Our past family life makes this current one much more appreciated.

So as I look back over the past 3 years, I remember. I remember hurts and injustices but I also remember smiles and laughter. I remember swinging, singing, coloring and playing. And if I had to go back and trade in all of this to avoid the painful stuff....well, no way. I'd do it all again just to have my guys wrap his arms around me and say " I love you Mommy".

Thank you God for the lessons I've learned, for the roads I've taken, for the appreciation I have now. Thank you God for turning pain into healing, suffering into blessing and tribulation into blessing. Thank you for letting me be his Mom.