The night before surgery, it was dark and quiet. Ish's cot was pushed right up against my bed, and suddenly all of the emotions that I had pushed down in the preparation busy-ness finally had center stage. I watched Ish sleeping without a care in the world, while I felt a weight heavy on my chest.
I gasped for air. My voice cracked out a hoarse, "He's going to think we betrayed him." Mark squeezed my hand and reminded me that we knew that we had to do this, that this decision was for Ish's good - for the long-run good of this son we love.
A day later, I pressed my body against the rail of his bed as he cried and moaned. I held his hand, rubbed his hair, cried and moaned along with him. And I remembered Mark's words, that this was for his future. For his future. That concept bolstered me.
I am a peacemaker to a fault. I like to orchestrate situations so that everyone feels happiest, most relaxed. And sometimes that is a gift, for it certainly makes the present moment feel good. But love is not for a moment; it is forever.
Six weeks of Ish running at full steam would have been great for the now, but not for Ish's future. Letting our children get their own way would certainly cut down on the battles of the will, but then they would never learn self-control and obedience in the long term. Doing every little task for our children would certainly get things done quicker, but then our kids would never learn responsibility or independence.
So we'll celebrate moments that are all full of daisies and sunshine, but in the moments that are less than dreamy, we want to do our best to take those moments and use them to build the future, planting a love deep and firm that lasts. Which is why I am very thankful that when my own knees go weak and I lose my resolve, I have a partner who will squeeze my hand and remind me of the future.
I gasped for air. My voice cracked out a hoarse, "He's going to think we betrayed him." Mark squeezed my hand and reminded me that we knew that we had to do this, that this decision was for Ish's good - for the long-run good of this son we love.
A day later, I pressed my body against the rail of his bed as he cried and moaned. I held his hand, rubbed his hair, cried and moaned along with him. And I remembered Mark's words, that this was for his future. For his future. That concept bolstered me.
I am a peacemaker to a fault. I like to orchestrate situations so that everyone feels happiest, most relaxed. And sometimes that is a gift, for it certainly makes the present moment feel good. But love is not for a moment; it is forever.
Six weeks of Ish running at full steam would have been great for the now, but not for Ish's future. Letting our children get their own way would certainly cut down on the battles of the will, but then they would never learn self-control and obedience in the long term. Doing every little task for our children would certainly get things done quicker, but then our kids would never learn responsibility or independence.
So we'll celebrate moments that are all full of daisies and sunshine, but in the moments that are less than dreamy, we want to do our best to take those moments and use them to build the future, planting a love deep and firm that lasts. Which is why I am very thankful that when my own knees go weak and I lose my resolve, I have a partner who will squeeze my hand and remind me of the future.
So well written. Thanks.
ReplyDelete