Prayer, Plan, Hope

October 30, 2010 was a day in which I found myself looking in the mirror and seeing someone who was coming up blank. I wasn't tired, sad, angry, not even particularly empty. Blank is the word that fit. Kyler had had his most violent and destructive rage to date. I was at the sink and just looking in the mirror; thinking about absolutely nothing. It was then when I "heard" these words, "Its almost over."

I have been beyond asking God for some time now for an answer or an ending. I do ask him constantly to show the next step. These words that floated through my head were something I wanted to grab and claim, but...

We have been as proactive as we can be. We had finally received approval for a full psychological evaluation, the testing had occurred and in two days we were receiving the results. We were hopeful for a new direction in therapy but his being accepted into this practice was contingent on what the evaluation revealed.

I like a plan. (nodding yes right now if you know me, right?!) Get the evaluation 4 Get the results. 4 Get the referral for the new therapist. 4 Get accepted into her practice. 4 Begin new therapy. 4 Wait in hope for new behaviors to emerge.

"Its almost over." Right. I want this more than anything. For him. For us. Lift Up Your Face keeps playing on the radio in my car. I receive this song as hope. I want to believe its almost over. For him. For us.

Back to The Plan: Get the evaluation. a Get the results. a Get the referral for the new therapist. a Get accepted into the new practice. a Begin new therapy a(first appointment is in nine days) An added step - yesterday we had an appointment with the psychiatrist to review his medications. Based on the insight provided in the evaluation, there has been a change in his medications. (It's almost over ran through my mind as I sat in her office and listened.)

As we drove home Lift up Your Face played again. I almost cried. I reached over and patted him on the leg. I want to hold him, but a pat on the leg is what he can take in. So this is what I give.

Why share all of this here? I ask myself. The answer ~ I'm a writer; its how I work things out. This blog is to share my journey in this year of wearing the National Young Mother of the Year title, and this is indeed part of my journey. Some of my journey is quite funny, some of it uplifting and good and I promise you - some of it is hard. Is this not true of all of our lives? If sharing in real and raw ways helps anyone else on a difficult journey than I have done my job as a writer.

If its indeed almost over, how awesome to be able to come back here and give God the glory. If its not almost over, then I will still come back here and give God the glory. I feel as if have been in the furnace a few times already and I have not burned up. God's faithfulness is evident even with the fire still going.

Standing in hope. a

A Bad Word - and - a Word of Hope.

I received word late last night that a friend, who is a part of my very fabric, heard the C word in relation to her own body. I am saddened for what she is going through. I am grieving for the loss of peace she feels in her mind as she waits for a report that will set the course for what is next.

It was an odd mom moment. I was in the kitchen when Zach walked in to find me crying. He came over and put his arm around me and just waited. I could hear Erin tell Kevin that I was crying. Then there were four of us in the kitchen. Mom in the center crying, kids comforting. Odd.

After I had crawled into bed, Zach came down and taped a note to my door. This is what it said:

Thyroid Cancer:

a Only 3.4% of women diagnosed die from it each year

a Most common cancer = easiest to treat

a Where only part of the thyroid is removed, no further treatment is necessary

a 95% cure rate

a More drugs have been made to cure thyroid cancer

a Even if the cancer has metastasised it is easy to cure

a Just some encouraging facts to help deal in a rough time.

I'm not even sure what the point of this post is. Maybe to express what a humbling and grace-filled moment it is when your child gets to a place where they reach out to you in what you hope have been ways you have reached out to them.

Maybe it's that we've all been in those awkward places where we just are not sure what to say. Was it awkward for my son to see me cry? Possibly. But Zach lent a word that gave some hope. We could all take a lesson from Zach and be encouraged to say something in those times...if even to tape it on a door. Last night I said little (in sticky note terms, one sticky notes worth) and hoped it felt like an arm around her shoulder. Thanks Zach.

And friend, did you see that note up there? We've got this. I will be there soon.