A Godsend

Some days, I'm okay with all of this. One night in particular, I felt the incredible presence of God like never before...I couldn't even describe it to you. All I know is that I didn't have to work it up, I wasn't sitting in a church service overcome by emotion, it was the still of the night and God felt so real and I knew I was going to be taken care of and Ethan would be taken care of and He had a plan through all of this.

Then there are bad days. Today started out as a bad day. I guess...I guess I can take it sometimes if I am down and depressed about this situation. But when others show their frailty, for some reason that unhinges me. There have been numbers of times we've been sitting watching TV and this commercial comes on with this cute, talking little (read: normal) boy and he starts to get sad and even have tears in his eyes. Then suddenly I'm bawling, because Dan never cries, and if he cries, then all of this has to be real, and it has to be bad, and then the sadness feels as if it truly is wearing a hole in my heart. That's how I feel sometimes: as if there is a literal hole in my heart, that literally aches. I think the worst kind of pain has to be that which is associated with something that can't be changed, that can't, save for divine intervention, just be whisked away, something that is beyond one's control.

So today I could tell my mom was down. She thinks she so bravely masks her feelings but she doesn't...she wears everything on her sleeve. Time and counseling have taught me she wears her fear on her sleeve as well. For someone who contends to be so brave she is extremely fearful. So she came back from grandparents' day at Anna's school, and I knew she was down about Julie's lumps removed from her leg, and about Ethan, and other things, and I could just feel the weight crushing me again. And when it started crushing me, I started wondering things like, "What if Ethan really does end up like Andy?" "What if he's that bad?" And by the time I was on my own in the car while she watched Ethan at home I was crying and crying and screaming "WHY?" at God and of course hearing nothing back. My throat is still hoarse 9 hours later. I knew I had to call Maggie.

Maggie is from church and has a daughter with Down syndrome. I met Maggie several years ago and have always liked her. When I told her about Ethan a few weeks ago, she encouraged me to call and asked if we could get together.

Maggie is a godsend.

I can't describe what it's like to be able to talk with someone who understands. My mom understands, but there's too much raw emotion there. It's too familiar. Now I know...someone else has waited until everyone else leaves the house to sink into the floor and cry and cry. Or closed the bathroom door and sobbed and then gathered herself and went on with real life. Or felt the gaping hole and wondered how it would ever heal.

More than that, through all of that, her faith has grown stronger, and she's more reassured than ever of exactly how wide and deep God's love is for her.

I want that.

Thank you God, for Maggie. I felt like I was going off a cliff today and I'm grateful someone was there to put on the brakes. I needed to be reminded there is a purpose to my pain. I needed to be reminded that God is good, all of the time.