The kids are coming home tonight! We are so excited to see them.
It’s been a very emotional two weeks. The kids left on the same day that Ben was released from the hospital. Ben and I spent the first few days recovering from his hospitalization…Ben recovering physically, while I recovered from the emotional trauma I experienced during his seizures. When we returned home from Hopkins, Ben was clear and normal and completely himself. This is such a mystery for me…how can he be so out of it, like he was for the two weeks before his hospitalization, and then return so completely and fully to normal?
After several days, Ben was aware of feeling clearer in his head than he had felt in a long time. I, on the other hand, found that without children to distract me the emotions and experiences of the past several months came crashing down like an overwhelming flood.
As the adrenaline has worn off and the crises have dwindled (Ben’s seizures), I think that part of me has grown weary of handling things well. I used to want to go through trials in a way that would please God. Now I just want the pain to go away. Many times I’ve realized that my ruling desire is to have a normal family and a normal homelife. But what I’ve also realized these past two weeks, is that no matter what our circumstances, I walk around daily with a sense of grief in my heart.
I am particularly aware these past two weeks of Ben’s inability to work. He is home and he has lost enough function so that he really can’t do a lot. But he hasn’t lost his innate intelligence, and he remembers what it’s like to challenge himself and work towards something. He’s just not able to do that. And this just adds another layer to my sadness.
Here are some quotes I found in my journal from a time back in April. They don’t all flow together well; but they encompass much of what I have been experiencing in my heart for the past few months:
This summer, I have measured my days by doctors’ appointments. I don’t really have any sense of time; only of the appointments and the time slowly passing in between.
I find lately that no matter what I do, I am just consumed with sadness. I wonder if everyone’ mind races all the time to the future, or things they don’t like about their life.
I know I write so much about the prolonged nature of my sadness. I definitely have great days and great weeks; long periods of normalcy where I enjoy my family and my home. But underneath it all there’s this profound sadness. I want to get past this. It’s like there’s this deep discontentment in my heart. It hits like a wall when I wish Mom could come out for a visit or help me with the house. Or when I realize how tired Ben is almost all of the time. What is the difference, biblically, between grief and discontentment? Am I really sad, or am I discontent with the circumstances God has for me? How can I discern between the two?
And underneath it all, I just want someone to tell me I’m doing a good job. I know that seems so selfish. But as I wrote it, I just started weeping. I feel like I’m pedaling, pedaling, pedaling and not moving anywhere up the hill. I haven’t gone backwards. But I’m not getting anywhere.
I share these thoughts because I know there are other people who can relate to them. It encourages me when people tell me that they can relate to some of the things I’ve written on here. And even though I know I have so many conflicting desires in my heart, I ultimately do want to please the Lord in this life He has given me.
I think the hardest thing for me in my life is the inconsistency. The instability. The constant emotional ups and downs. Two good weeks are wonderful for Ben. But for me, they are two weeks in a summer of constant changes.
Well, as we say at CLC, “Constant change is here to stay.”
I keep coming back to this Bible verse, which I must commit to memory:
and he will be the stability of your times,
abundance of salvation, wisdom, and knowledge;
the fear of the Lord is Zion’s treasure.