I am sitting at my kitchen counter typing away on our computer... kitchen counter? You wonder? Yes, our home addition for Isabel is well underway and my little tiny office space is now a big gaping hole into the new addition... a hole that will soon lead to our spacious entrance with 3-foot wide door and no lip at the base of the door for Isabel's wheelchair to bump onto. I anticipate the many people who will be welcomed into our home and I am sooooo looking forward to loving every one of them in hopes that they will feel God's love for them and from us.
The home I have always desired... not filled with "stuff" but with the "stuff life is made of." My sincerest desire is to make our home a place where others feel welcomed, invited and appreciated.
I think that's why all of this allergy stuff has hit me so hard. Here I am at a phase in my life when I finally have the space to host and have people over (and for the longest time, there WAS always someone here) but with my fears of harming Ethan with his allergens, our home went from being wide open to feeling like some bio-hazard closed off area!
But as he gets older, stronger and we see first hand that his allergens are not "killing" him, our hearts are becoming more peaceful. Once he is weaned, we will likely reintroduce some foods into our home (I really cannot live without garlic) and I will be able to cook my meals again and feed others.
I miss feeding others...
Even with the construction crews around, it feels wrong not to invite them in for hot bowls of chili with fresh bread and homemade butter. Or to offer fresh cookies or muffins. There is such a sense of love when you can nourish others. I love it! (Except when I flop with a recipe... then I just feel like an idiot!). :)
After my last post, I believe that brought us to day four of Ethan's skin clearing up miraculously. And staying true to form, after those magical four days, Ethan's skin began to deteriorate again. What is the culprit? I have no clue... could have been the gluten-free elk sausage that we tried (garlic in it?), could have been my cinnamon roiboos mate (the first I have had in many, many months), it could have been the olive oil on the chicken I baked for him... or something in the celtic sea salt... Maybe it was the stress of all the clanging and banging...
I really don't know.
Melina was wise and said to me yesterday, "Mom, I feel as though God has given me a sentence to pass along to you... 'when you accept it, things will change.'"
Wise words that I have known in my heart all along. Once I let go of thinking I can control Ethan's outcome based on my research and efforts, the sooner I can let go and give room for God to do His bidding. And who better to heal Ethan than His very own Creator? I know this in my head but my heart just won't let go yet. And that delay makes me feel as though it is at Ethan's expense. But even Jesus praised God in Matthew 11:25 "I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children." No amount of knowledge and education can outsmart the will of God.
Always a journey of humility and submission. "Let not mine but your will be done." Can you imagine Christ's intense faith and submission? Knowing what was about to unfold, the pain he would have to endure? And in his moment of pleading with our Father in the garden of Gethsemane, He catches himself wanting "this cup to be passed" from Him, and CHOOSES to submit... submit fully... letting go of all control over the situation and trusting that God's Will encompassed more than the immediate future.
And indeed it did...
Why then, with a most perfect example of submission under the most intense of situations, should I even STRUGGLE with letting go and trusting God?
"But what if I don't like His outcome?" Ah... but I cannot imagine that Christ was too keen on the immediate outcome following his prayer in the garden. And yet, the outcome was far greater and for a purpose more grand than anyone could have fathomed.
So perhaps my prayers should not be for miraculous healing. Perhaps it should be for submission and trust. Faith. Trusting that Ethan's suffering is for a greater purpose. Perhaps he is meant to touch many other people's lives as Isabel has done in her state of suffering. Perhaps always fearing pain, suffering and hurt are fears that keep us from fulfilling a bigger picture.
So as I watch Ethan worsen yet again, I praise God and give thanks for the moments He grants us of health, rest, laughter and renewed faith. Because life would be much worse if those moments did not occur at all.
And in the wise words of my daughter, I will continue to work towards accepting where we are all at in this and praise God as Jesus did in Matthew for revealing His truth to the beautiful hearts of our children that we may learn from their unconditional love and reverence for all of His creation.
In Jesus name, I pray... Amen.