I can’t take much more of this. I consider myself fairly strong when it comes to my children being hurt, emotionally or physically, but the most recent incidents have burdened me to a breaking point. Parenting is not for the faint of heart, but what do you do when your heart is faint? 

Just under four weeks ago, Caleb broke his thumb. According to the casting technician, he was her first “sledding down the stairs on mattresses when my sister landed on my hand” bone break. Glad we could spice up her tale tally, but do we get a discount for him being the fourth of my children to make it into the orthopedist’s office?

Less than two weeks ago, Anna sprained her foot playing Round Robin, but the pain was so bad we initially believed she’d broken it. After three and a half hours spent at Immediate Care, because of course she hurt it on the weekend, and a couple of x-rays later, we were thrilled to find out it was only a sprain. She was given a most unfashionable boot to wear, directions to stay off of it for a long while, and sent on her merry way.  Little did the doctor know who she was dealing with because Anna was back to basketball practice days later, “running” suicides with the rest of the team until her coach finally told her to go sit down! 

Less than four days ago, Ellie dislocated her shoulder so badly she couldn’t get it back in on her own, earning herself a four hour trip to the ER. It didn’t take long for the questions of “what happened?” (I was taking a one-armed, half court shot.) and “did you make it?” (No.) to become tiresome to her.  After applying medieval torture techniques, the doctor, who was actually extremely kind, placed the joint back where it belonged and Ellie felt instantly better.  The doctor said we’d have to follow-up with Ortho and asked if we had a doctor for that. Oh my, do we ever! Ellie is now my fifth child to enter the hallowed, and dare I say ‘hated’, halls of the orthopedist’s office. We also discovered that Anna probably shouldn’t go into nursing but would make a great traveling comedian to patients, as long as it doesn’t hurt them to laugh. Cow udder glove balloons, anyone? Wheelchair derby? How about an imitation nurse routine? She does it all.

Less than five hours ago (as of this writing), Caleb decided it was his turn for the annual Allan Meet-and-Greet With a Tree while sledding, earning himself a busted lip, scarred nose, bloody mouth, and lost baby tooth. Before I knew about any of this though, my single warning that something was wrong with a child was Danny’s voice coming through the garage door, saying, “You might be making another trip to the hospital,” before going right back to snow blowing the driveway. You might imagine the trepidation with which I creeped around the corner of the living room into the kitchen to see what awaited me.

James and Caleb had been outside, having their last bit of snow fun before bedtime when Caleb’s sled directed him to the nearest tree.  I still haven’t straightened out why Caleb didn’t bail, what tree he hit, what he was thinking, did he only lose one tooth…  but I did keep my cool when he entered the house with his face dripping blood.

Simultaneously to the sledding accident, Jake’s flight back to school for the spring semester was extremely delayed. We had been in constant communication with him, deciding whether to pick him back up from the airport and try again tomorrow, or have him take the late flight and hope he made his connection. Most of that doesn’t matter to anyone else, so the take-away here is that because we had to relinquish our time with our oldest, I was already emotionally wrecked before Caleb got hurt.

Which brings me back to my initial question. What do you do when your heart is faint? We are encouraged in II Thessalonians to not be weary in well-doing, but what about when you are?  Hebrews 12:3 was read in meeting this morning, “Consider him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself, so that you may not grow weary and fainthearted,” and I was drawn to Lamentations 3: 30-32, “For the Lord will not cast off for ever: But though he cause grief, yet will he have compassion according to the multitude of his mercies. For he doth not afflict willingly nor grieve the children of men.” The fact that these verses were put on my heart on this day, of all days, is not lost on me, but one resists the knowing sometimes.

In no way am I trying to diminish any physical pain my children are experiencing. Between administering medication, watching tears stream down faces, and listening to the shouts and groans, I am well aware they are suffering. Our family does not have a monopoly on trials and tribulations, though it does seem like our particular circus has too many side shows right now.  I don’t really have any answers either, but when I set aside my frustrations and fears, I can better lean into His strength and promises and see that the safety that is of the Lord is much more important than the physical needs we have on earth. How wonderful to be recipients of His multitudinous mercies. Caleb’s favorite bedtime song right now is “Safe Am I”^*, and it seems to be most apropos, though I almost couldn’t sing through it tonight.

I’ll just end by saying Isaac is my favorite. 🙂

*Safe am I.
Safe am I,
In the hollow of His hand.
Sheltered o’er,
Sheltered o’er, 
With His love forevermore.
No ill can harm me.
No foe alarm me.
For He keeps both day and night.
Safe am I.
Safe am I,
In the hollow of His hand.

When my heart is overwhelmed, lead me to the rock that is higher than I.  Psalm 61:2

Well. It’s year-end and not counting this entry, I updated this blog 18 times. How’d I do? 

Even though it’s totally cliche, I feel as though it’s also totally appropriate, given today’s date, to highlight the highs and completely ignore the lows for 2023. However, I’m tired and I can’t remember much. Plus I don’t always have the right words, or any words, and without words it’s tough for people to, you know, read a blog, rarely updated or not.

If you’re thinking “oh boy, not the highlights for a family of eight! We’ll never get to the end of this post,” right now, I can assure you that it will be much shorter than you imagined because when asked what their highlights were, four kids said “BVIs”, one said they didn’t know, and one chose that time when he pretended to be the bodyguard for a friend who was pretending to be someone famous.  Wow. You really can’t compare your year to our amazing, awesome, wonderful, fantastic, better than ever year, can you? 

Moving on to the resolutions we obviously work on all year, I thought I’d list our new ones here–

…………………………

–Setting the bar low helps keep us grounded. 😉

I’m not a very good story-teller. All too often, I lose the plot part way along, and if there’s ever supposed to be a punchline, I never do justice to the delivery. Usually, my oral stories take one of three paths: one that’s never just the ‘long story short’ but instead has all the bonus features and extra scenes, or I can hardly come up with multisyllabic words to use in the telling, or they end up being pointless.

Several posts back I touched on how I can write 10,000 words far better than I could say a 10 word sentence, which is why I appreciate the space on this blog to do just that. You’d still have to work pretty hard to convince me that anyone cares to read it, but my kids do seem to find what I write amusing. Most of what I write, though it may be better than the verbal version, is still severely lacking in its engaging descriptions or compelling content. Encapsulating the ongoings of the family through composition is a feat I’m not convinced I accomplish well. 

Have you ever tried to put emotions evoked during a trip or conversation in writing? Using words, can you accurately portray the most exciting or happy or discouraging event you’ve experienced to make it as real on paper as it was in person? How would you sum up your desires, worries, joys of parenthood in a short, yet interesting, and maybe even humorous, entry?

As a parent, you probably can understand the depth of feelings and thoughts you may have towards your children, especially during certain situations. It wasn’t just a car ride to the store; you were taken aback by the budding maturity that kid really showed while you chatted. It wasn’t just an evening in the living room; the hilarity with which the conversation was filled will bring a smile to your face long after the evening has ended. It wasn’t just an unfortunate event; it reminded you how essential it is to pray for your children. It wasn’t just a hug; it was your silent leap of joy at your teen’s show of physical affection. It wasn’t just a day of endless housekeeping and ferrying kids hither and yon; it was your privilege to provide for and watch over the offspring entrusted to you. It wasn’t just one sibling helping out another; it was seeing a servant’s heart and being filled with gratitude for the Lord’s blessing in their lives. It wasn’t just disobedience on the part of my child; it was a reminder that my sin is just as important to correct before I can model obedience and love to my Lord. 

Like Mary, I try to store all of these things in my heart, and like a faux author, I feel like a fraud as I try to write about them. All this to say that our Thanksgiving holiday was as lovely (and tiring and joyful and yummy and busy) as anticipated and that’s probably a plot twist you didn’t see coming. Did I mention I’m bad at telling stories?