July 21, 2024

Breakthrough.

I want to add a plethora of exclamation points and I'm not one of those women who ever appears outwardly too excited much. I have a resting face that will curdle milk. It's one of those looks that, if I'm not careful, will certainly give the wrong impression. It's the face I make when there's a lot on my mind.  My closest compadres let me know real quick if she comes out so I can adjust and tuck her right back away. I also am not big on speaking loudly until I get to know you and even then, I reserve my excitement for guffaws of belly laughter but only with my closest confidants. Tonight is different. 

I've spoken of my youngest’s anxiety before. It's been such a constant in his life, that we named it, Brenda. I don't know when it started, but I know when it got worse and that was the day he got a cold this past winter. For the last 9 days, we've been on this anxiety riddled rollercoaster with Brenda and she is NOT a great passenger, and tonight she got the boot.

He had a fear of sickness and I'm going to use past-tense in describing his fear, because of what just occurred. 

Breakthrough. 

(We watch the Chosen and tonight, it was the one about the lame man at the pool.)

He calmly and confidently, articulately described his plans for the next time, if, the fear returns. 

My fearless eleven year old said, that while watching the episode, he felt sad that the man wasted 25 years sitting beside the pool, and he doesn't want to waste any more time worrying about what may or may not happen. He said he didn't need to think about the past or the future, but only “just right now, in the present.”  He said sickness lasts a little while and if or when he gets sick, he believes he will be alright. 

This is the first time he's responded differently. 

My brave eleven year old has been sick with anxiety for 9 days because he used six degrees of separation to figure he might get sick, 9 days ago. We've been through it, around it, over it, and under it for days on end. We've talked about it, tried to  hug it out, sang songs, and did all the therapy things he learned during that brief spring stint to no avail. 

But tonight is different. 

And what could bring about such a profound change? 

Hope. 

As he spiraled out, I hung in there with him. I sat and talked to him. I listened. I held him. I refused to let go and walk away. I fought for him like Christian mothers do. I laid hands on him and prayed dire and desperate prayers to the One who answers prayer. 

When he stormed away after I had exhausted all my efforts, I sat down at my freshly tuned piano and began to worship the One who sets us free. By the time I made it to the 4th song in, he comes out of his room, runs straight to me, wraps his arms around me and has enough fortitude to learn the chorus of Reach Out and Touch the Lord. I mean, he actually learned the notes on the keyboard. He is an amazing kid and God deserves all the credit. 

My hope is that this is a fresh start forward because tonight is different. 

Here's to hope and breakthroughs. May we believe in the One who sets us free and never forget where our help comes from. ❤️