This has been a tough month. If it were only the government shutdown or healthcare issues.
But it seems so much more, you know?
My inbox has been fuller than usual with requests asking, “would you pray for me?”
- There have been jobs lost
- New diagnosis
- Family issues
- Relationship troubles
- and more.
It wasn’t that long ago that I was in a season where the hits came coming. They were so fast, so devastating that as a pretty solid in faith Jesus girl, I was reeling. To the point of wondering if God had a punchline, and I was it.
I learned a lot from that season, and the ones that have followed it. Earlier this week I was at Christians Read and I shared what my husband did to help me.
Do you have a confession? If so, share here. Let’s encourage each other. You are not alone.
I thought I had a good grasp on compassion and understanding toward families with special need situations. Then we encountered seasons with our youngest where she was quite ill or not meeting developmental goals, and we entered the outer skirts as a family with unique needs.
We still don’t have the minute to minute, day to day circumstances that many families do, and how I wish they received more cards in the mail, prepared dinners at the door, and available ears and shoulders for those days a parent needs to vent. It is hard stuff and I don’t want to patronize.
We’ve had to re-visit this aspect of our lives a bit lately and I was overcome by the paperwork. The diagnosis or lack of. Coding. Evaluations. Outcomes. Goals. Therapies. Meetings. Reviews. I could feel the tears forming, not understanding why she has to go through these things.
Then my husband randomly said to everyone at the table, “Well we know God created her to be an overcomer.”
Hours later, I heard nearly the same statement. Don’t forget–she’s an overcomer.
I did forget.
When I was pregnant with her, it was a promise God whispered to me. He made it clear she would be an overcomer. As I typically do, I put my own spin on things, assuming she’d skip the hard PMS symptoms I had. Nope, her test came early and hard. By three months of age she’d experienced a hypothyroidism diagnosis that wasn’t confirmed in a timely way. Croup that nearly killed her when she was prescribed the wrong medicine and wrong dosage. Breathing tubes and tents. Wires. Machines. Specialists. Diagnosis. Evaluations. Meetings.
And she overcame all those things.
I realized this week how one letter makes all the difference.
I was overcome by the paperwork and conversation that was so business like and matter of fact. Over my head. Then I remembered, she is an overcomer.
If she can not just survive but thrive in her circumstances, why can’t I?