Focus

I'm back in Chic Fil A.  It's been a while.  I miss this place.  Not the actual building, but the low hum of every day life happening.  

Children crying and giggling.  

Moms looking exhausted, but finding small ways to enjoy their kids.  

The flow of those who serve our community - police, military, fire, rescue.  

Those sweet souls that are aging...some gracefully and others with just a little more bite to their tone.  

And the smiles of the employees here for each and every person that walks through the door.  And it can't always be easy to find those smiles.  But they do.

You could say my life is in a bit of transition.  Ok...so life with kids is always in transition.  

I guess it would be more accurate to say that my soul is in transition.  And I have yet to find the coasting lane.  

If I could sit here all day with the soothing meoldies of Christian lyrics as the background watching happiness at work with each chicken sandwich, it's likely I would have it all figured out.  Everything.  I could give you every answer to every question. 

At least the way I see the world.  

But that's not how life works.  Which is why my soul is in transition.

Or maybe...it's transformation.

Transition involves changing from one state or condition to another.  Transformation is a thorough or dramatic change in form or appearance. 

Well, I likely won't look much different on the outside, but it's definitely transformation for the soul.

Those few weeks before the Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays start are always exciting for me.  The decorations, the music, the weather....all of it!  Time off from the hustle and bustle and down time with family.  But each year I find myself losing the magic.  Losing the joy that should fill those days. 

After the holidays I tried to figure out what was going on.  Was I depressed?  Was it anger and bitterness finally showing up?  Was I doing the wrong things?  Was I not doing some of the right things?

I could have asked a million questions and come up with 2 million justifiable answers.  I could have told myself anything and figured out a way, as well as find a group, that would let me believe or place blame wherever I wanted. 

Thank goodness God didn't let that happen.  

I've dug into my faith just enough to realize that I need to do a lot more digging.  There is only one place I am going to find any answers, any joy and any hope.

I think what happens around the holidays are that the blatent diversities that make up our family are not only highlighted...they are accentuated.  

And one very real fact gets more real every year.  I have a child with severe disabilities.  

Does that change how amazing he is?  Not in the least.

But it does change me from year to year.  I am thankful, beyond words, for not feeling bitter or angry or like I have somehow missed out on something.  Those feelings creep in, but they don't stay. And for that I gain a new level of gratitude each year.

But there is sadness.  And sometimes it runs pretty deep.

Sadness for the ways that this has changed Freddie's life.  Sadness that he is not running around playing soccer with his brother.  

Sadness when I see Logan watching his brother and daddy wrestle and almost seeing that desire in his eyes to be right there with them.

Sadness when I actually let myself come up with a rough calculation of how many thousands of seizures Logan has had in his life, knowing that they have inevitably caused damaged to his beautiful brain and wondering if there was more we could have done.

Sadness when I make the excrutiating mistake of letting myself think of what might have been...though "might have been" isn't even a possiblity.  

Might have been doesn't actually exist.  There are no might have beens if you believe.  If you believe God has a plan and that plan is supreme and whole and designed with nothing but immeasurable love.

And I can do that when I protect myself in a bubble.  When I don't interact with the outside world and when I can pretend I'm not human.  

When I hide in the corner booth at Chic Fil A.

But that isn't even close to living in reality and when I try to go there and protect myself, re-entry is brutal and painful and I end up in defense mode.  Protecting my feelings and defending my insecurities even to those who love me most.

So this year I am slowly going through that soul transformation.  Trying to make some permanent changes that are rooted in reality, but held together by the love and grace and peace of knowing that there is a larger plan playing out.  And it's a plan that I don't have to have any part in except to take one step in the right direction.  Then take another step in the right direction.  Make the next right decision. Realize that I will face innumerable decisions each day and I just have to make the right choice one decision at a time.  While also realizing that I will make mistakes and I will get off track, but I can always find my way home.

I can do that if I stop looking back, stop looking forward and plant myself in right now.

I can do that when I stay connected to the vine.

I can do that when I approach life with a focus on acting out of love and putting others first. 

When I do that, the sadness starts to fade.  I'm not powerless anymore.  I finally remember exactly where my power comes from - and it isn't from inside me.  

When I do that I don't focus on the seizures, I focus on how beautiful my child is - just...as...he...is.

I focus on the amazing people in this world that are fighting for my little boy and all those battling Epilepsy and developmental delays.  And I remember they are doing it every...day.

I focus less on what type of adult Freddie will be and more on how precious a child he is.

I focus less on what our family will look like in 5, 10, 20 years and I enjoy cooking favorite meals and wathcing Cat In The Hat...again.

I focus less on the fact that playing soccer in the house could break just about anything and everything...and I try to focus on the laughter and enjoyment that it produces, every single night.

It's like when that sadness finally starts to fade, God is able to widen my view and narrow my focus.  I can finally consume all of the joy that IS life and I can focus on just what is important.

Life was never meant to be easy.  We don't grow during easy.  I have to hear that over and over and over and still I forget it.  

But...it is freeing.  When I focus on the growth that the pain, the struggles and the heartache is producing I start to see the truly unbelievable miracles that God has planned just on the other side of the pain.

I want the miracles.  And I want to want the miracles more than I fear the pain.  

So I'm focusing not on what I think can happen.  Not on what I plan on happening.  And not on what others tell me is capable of happening.

I'm focusing on what my faith tells me WILL HAPPEN.

At this moment, life looks like this.

Logan is still having daily seizures and required Diastat twice last week.  But he also was able to get a booster of his MMR vaccine (nice timing with a measels outbreak), new AFO's, a haircut and head out to dinner...all in one day.  That was also one of the days he had Diastat, but at least he got to be out and about and enjoy the day.  

Then on Saturday our entire family spent the day at the boat show.  All day....all four of us.  It's hard to explain what just the four of us getting to do things together means.  It's one of the miracles I need to never, ever overlook.

He is still getting his therapies at home (Speech, OT and PT) and is doing really well with those.  If you have seen any of the posts of him walking on Facebook you understand just how well!  He is not able to make it to school these days, but that will come.

We are also looking into getting him a service dog.  Big step.  Huge undertaking, but the hope is that the benefits will outweigh the struggles of making it happen.

Freddie is.....where do I start.  He is our precious old soul that can turn on a dime and embrace being 8.  He is so in tune with the world around him it makes life full of those struggles that are continually producing little miracles every day.  I pray to keep the miracles as my focus and the struggles as my opportunity to help him grow.  I really struggle to find words to describe what an unbelievable child he is.  He doesn't conform to this world...which is a reminder to me if I choose to see it that way - "Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.  Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is - his good, pleasing and perfect will." Romans 12:2

Then there is the newfound love of music - the old school, country genre.  Johnny Cash, Hank Snow, Faron Young - much of what is played on Willie's Roadhouse on Sirius XM.  He never ceases to amaze us. 

Let's also not forget the fishing. He loves fishing these days - with our neighbors (one is a teenager and one is a grandfather) as well as with his Papa (which is his favorite time to fish).  He has even talked his Nana and Ga Ga out onto the dock a few times, although I have yet to see a fishing rod in their hands.

It's hard to remember that I am always the parent, here to teach him, because I learn from him every single day.

It's a long road sometimes - life.  Especially long when I look at it as a destination that I will reach at some point and then be able to sit back and relax.  That was never what God intended.  The more I realize and accept that, the easier and more enjoyable the road becomes.  

So here's to keeping my focus.  Remembering from where I gain my strength.  And enjoying all that life is offering....now.