The Fear That So Easily Entangles

I'm sitting at my desk at work, alone in the office, and my chest feels like it is going to burst as the air seems to be cut off from my lungs. Somehow, I am able to hold the tears at bay that are threatening to spill over. After a few minutes, and some sharp breaths, I feel my heart rate begin to lower and I feel myself coming back from the ledge. The ledge that I so desperately try to ignore until I am dangling over the edge. 

Since going back to work a couple of years ago, I have struggled greatly with the fear of losing my children. I wish I could say the fear is a simple fear of not wanting to live without them. However, this fear that knocks the air straight out of me at times, is so much deeper. Unkept fears, like weeds that are allowed to roam free, slowly crawl over every surface of life that surrounds them. They stretch over my heart, embedding themselves in every facet of my life until it is hard to see where fear ends and reality begins. 

When Levi was first born, this fear was so simplistic: I loved my son greatly and I did not want to lose him. However, as the years have gone by, this fear has grown, and implanted, and stretched, and devoured. I fear losing my children. I fear my children suffering. I fear that I will lose my children because I was unable to save them. I fear that my children will die from something I could have prevented. I fear my children will die and their last thought will be "Why is my mom not here to help me?" I fear my children will die without knowing that I love them.

And, my darkest fear, I fear my children will die without ever knowing Jesus. 

One of the hardest things I have stomaching about Levi's Autism is being unsure about what he comprehends and what he does not. I am very confident that he understands little things such as "All done" and "Do you want to watch Chuggington". However, when it comes to things deeper, like "That makes Mommy sad" or "I love you", he shows no signs of even vaguely comprehending what those things mean. And that is like pouring gasoline on an already raging fire. 

Although I had a more simplistic form of this fear when Levi was young, it didn't really start morphing until I went back to work full time a couple of years ago. There is just something about not being with your kids all day and not really knowing what is going on with them that makes little fears become big ones. It also makes you realize that as a mom, you think you can protect your child 100% better than anyone else (sometimes Dad included *cringe*). And lets be honest here, a lot of times, deep down, we think we can protect our child better than God (quadruple *cringe*). Although I would like to fight tooth and nail and SAY that isn't true, my fears and my actions say otherwise. 

Suddenly, my idolatry of my children has now morphed into my idolatry of my children AND my idolatry of control. I alone can save my kids. I alone can protect them. I alone am all they need. And out of those two very weighty idols, sprouts a never ending fountain of fear and anxiety. And out of these idols and fears and anxieties, comes a fast and furious stream of guilt and failure when (surprise) I fall short. Guilt because I am not with my children during the day and therefore, cannot protect them. Guilt because I was not able to protect Levi from Autism, nor will I be able to protect him from it in the future. Guilt because I don't always do a great job at showing my children that I love them. 

And the cycle goes on, growing deeper and darker with every turn until I find myself here, years later, drowning in a sea of guilt and anxiety, but too paralyzed by fear to take that breath of air that I so desperately need. And because of that, what once was just a small, single brick of fear, has now become a tower. 

How did I get here? How did I get to be so crippled by fear when I use to have such a deep trust in the Lord? 

I got here because I have spent close to 2 plus years living with unconfessed sin. I have spent 2 years justifying that the fear of losing my children is completely normal and okay. Is this initial fear normal? Sure. But what I chose to do with that fear is sinful. 

That is how I got here. Now where do I go from here? What then, moms (and dads), are we to do with this fear?

1. Confess these fears to God and continue to confess them AS OFTEN AS THEY APPEAR. Ask him to show you the underlying idols that cause your fears. 

Proverbs 28:13 "Whoever conceals their sin does not prosper, but the one who confesses and renounces them finds mercy."

2. Confess these fears to a friend or confidant. Bringing sin to light simultaneously kicks Satan in the teeth AND gives you person to pray alongside of you and keep you accountable. 

James 5:16 Therefore, confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed.

3. Battle your fears with scripture and with the promises of the Lord. 

Matthew 6:34 Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble or its own. 

Psalm 34:4 I sought the Lord and He answered me; He delivered me from all my fears...The angel of the Lord encamps around those who fear Him and He delivers them. 

1 Peter 5:6-7 Humble yourselves, therefore, under God's mighty hand, that He may lift you up in due time. Cast all your anxiety on Him because He cares for you. 

4. Let your fears play out. 

Now this last point is more my own personal advice because it is something that has helped me. So many of our fears lie within the unknowns (i.e. How will I go on without my child/husband/parent?) So, for a few minutes, let that fear play itself out. For instance, my fear of losing my children. So what if that does happen? How will I feel? How will I ever go on? Take that scenario and repeat step 3:

I will go on because the Lord will uphold me (Isaiah 41:10). I will be crushed and struck down, but not destroyed (2 Cor. 4:9). I will be unbearably sad, but there will be a day when the Lord will wipe every tear. Even though I may never understand, the Lord is working for good (Romans 8:28). The Lord goes before me and the Lord goes with me (Deuteronomy 31:6). 

Does this mean that your fears are going to disappear? No. Rather, as you slowly build a tower of truth, brick by brick of confession and biblical promises, that tower of fear will disappear. Not because it is no longer there, but because it will become eclipsed by truth, promises, and the glory of the Lord.

Philippians 3:12 Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. 

Happy First Birthday, Lucas

They always say that time goes by faster which each child, and I cannot express how true that it. The past year has flown by, sweet Lucas, and I cannot believe that you are already a year old. At the same time, I also cannot believe you are ONLY a year old (mamas you feel me). 

The night before you were born, I cried as I rocked your brother to sleep because I didn't think I would ever be able love you as much as I loved Levi (#hormones). A few weeks after you were born, I could only laugh because OF COURSE I loved you just as big. Actually, you were born looking so much like you brother (and weighing exactly the same), that I kept wondering if we had some how fallen back to 2013. But then I quickly remembered that I had only had to do 12 hours of labor, as opposed to the 24+ with your brother, and I was brought back to the present (For that, I will always love you a little bit more. Kidding....maybe). The day you were born was peaceful up until the moment you suddenly decided you were ready to appear. So suddenly, in fact, that things were thrown around the room, your grandmother had to page for Dr. Thorne, and your grandfather wasn't even at the hospital because he had left to run an errand. 

Your birth and the weeks to follow were a beautiful time of healing for my heart. My labor with Levi was HARD, my recovery was even harder, and the months of colic that followed felt unbearable at times. Since becoming a mom the first time, I constantly felt insecure and questioned every parenting decision I made. I lived, breathed, and dreamed about failure. What am I doing wrong? Why does my baby never stop crying? Why do other moms disqualify my labor just because after 17 hours I decided to get an epidural (for the love)? 

Fast forward a year and we were pregnant again! After trying for well over a year to get pregnant with you brother and using fertility medications, we were ecstatic to be pregnant so quickly on our own. Unfortunately, a week later, we miscarried. 

....And then we miscarried again. 

Not long after our second miscarriage, our pediatrician sat us down and voiced his concerns about your brother's development. Fast forward through a few dark, trying months, and we found out your brother had Autism. We also found out that you would have a 30% chance of having Autism, too. If I hadn't felt the weight of darkness and wandering in the desert before, I certainly did during these months. 

Now, this probably seems like the most depressing birthday post you've ever heard. (And one day, when you read this, you will probably be annoyed that I keep referencing Levi so much in YOUR birthday post.) However, I tell you these things so that you can understand the depth of how you have impacted my life. 

In a year when it seemed like the darkness would never end, the Lord saw fit to drop mana from heaven in the form of a sweet, 6.13 pound little boy with dimples and a faux-hawk. 

In a year where all I felt was failure surrounding me, the Lord used you to remind me that my weaknesses are where God's power shines through.

In a year where I felt so overwhelmed by therapies, doctor appointments, and work, you appeared and reminded me of how temporary and trivial those trials truly are. 

Lucas, you were the salve we so desperately needed and we are so thankful that the Lord chose you to help heal our wounds. 

You are sweet. Oh so sweet. You have been giving hugs since you were 6 months old. And I don't mean the "i'll lean into you just to get you to stop asking me" hug. I mean you wrap your arms around my neck as if you will never let go. 

You are funny. You have kept our family consistently laughing with your "scrunchie face" and your old man chuckle. 

You are resilient. You have been hit by your brother, stepped on by the dog, fallen off furniture, and have sneakily eaten almost an entire bag of dog food over time and you are still alive and happy. (Parenting for the win?)

You are feisty. You have learned that you can defend yourself against your older brother by simply biting him until he leaves you alone. Not exactly the approach I would like, but hey, i'm proud you are at least sticking up for yourself.

You are pretty. Yes, pretty. I have lost count of how many "Oh what a pretty little girl you have!" I have received since you were born. I think its because of your big blue eyes and long lashes. The ladies will love that one day, so don't you worry. Actually, false. They will hate it. You are never dating. Ever. 

You are sweet and loud and giggly and flirtatious and fearless and busy. You are our perfect gift from the Lord and we love you so!

Now don't get any older, okay?

Love, Momma