Jason and I drove separately to the beach. We needed two cars because I would leave early on our last day to take Jackson for his second infusion treatment.
Our amazing puppy sitter arrived at 10am Sunday morning, with suits on, Braedon and I headed out with full intentions to be on the beach later that day.
Those of you who have followed here for awhile know I tolerate the beach while I want to live in the mountains. Yet, for the sake of our young men who look forward to waves and sand between their toes, I too look forward to being witness to their joy.
God lined up this vacation to begin just as my seminary trimester ended, the seminary I didn’t know about when we booked our vacation.
So it was.
With four brand new beach chairs and a heart for God, I drove determinedly. Delaware is only about a three hour drive from our area in PA. We sailed into traffic about 3 miles from the ocean. Sitting not so patiently, I kept my eyes peeled for an opening to advance. Meanwhile Jason is texting Braedon to tell me to meet him at a restaurant. It was 2pm and we all had already eaten lunch. The only reason I was leaving this thick line of automobiles was to bury my feet beneath His sand while I sat my bottom in my new chair.
You can see where my attitude was. I should have buried my head in the sand until I got my heart right (by the way, ostriches do not bury their heads, it is a popular myth).
The two weeks leading up to vacation were serious tests of my faith. I could not seem to grasp anything tangible: a schedule, my Bible, my computer for school papers and final exams. Sleep was a wolf dressed in sheep’s skin. I would drift off (thank you Trazadone) and wake suddenly at 2 am with high alert, ready to scream. Yes, scream. Overwhelmed was an understatement.
During a several hour appointment at the IBD (Irritable Bowel Disease) clinic at Hershey, Jackson and I learned more about this next level of meds for his Crohn’s. Biologic agents. Did I need a super spy degree? Would my child morph into a creature who could look like a human but wasn’t (if you have watched Marvel or Star Wars with your guys, you may understand how the imagination took hold of panic and ran)?
These agents can be injected or infused.
Rivers of rolling tears flooded over any intelligent questions I may have had for the doctor.
Jackson wanted me to stop crying as he thought this was good news. Remission, leaving all the oral meds behind.
You and I know nothing comes without a cost.
And as much as I am thankful for Jackson who is ready to do what is necessary, my mother’s heart crumbled. Biologic agents at 15 means a lifetime of biologic agents.
I had prayed, poured out upon His feet, petitions, the laying of hands, more petitions. Even the deal … yes I made a deal with God. If He heals the Crohn’s, I would find a way to glorify His name across all of Hershey medical facility.
But there is no sign of healing, rather a revealing of a disease that is, at best, moderate in its impairment.
I believe God can heal. But I grew weary of praying. I began to worry for Jackson’s salvation. He shunned the thought of Jesus loving him. He has mumbled beneath his breath when am I going to catch a break.
All this amidst a final exam and a final paper and a needy puppy and a quiet, socially anxious 16 year old, and a husband who works hard but hardly ever gets social/emotional/physical reprieve.
I could not find a place where I fit in this mess. I only knew my internal mess was reflected in the lack of care and keep-up with the housework.
Yes, I thanked God for the timing.
However, I staked the expectations too high on filling my needs for release, surrender to God, alone time with Him so that I may refill to be present with my family.
Peace didn’t roll into each heart as I would have hoped, including my own.
Though bound with leftover anxiousness, I was determined to enjoy the beach.
These photos were from our first day. I will blog again over the weekend to tell you about how God blessed us while we were away. Of course, He never leaves or forsakes us. Like that mysterious drift wood that somehow appears on the shore even though there are no trees for miles, so too we drift from Him and land somewhere, ill-placed.
If you are in a season of too much, and you are reaching but never grasping, stop right now, look up and ask Him to hold you. You are His possession, His treasure, His vessel for glory. Let Jesus be your steady, your rock-solid foundation, your morning coffee, your twinkly stars at night.
Jesus is enough. When you haven’t believed that or lived it out, you repent.
In His love and for His glory,