I'm gonna make it
I'm a survivor
I will survive
-Destiny's Child, Survivor
Thanks, y'all for letting me vent a little on my last post. I'm sorry for complaining about the little things, when I have so many blessings to be thankful for. I may need the occasional reminder that doing the dishes is, in fact, a blessing. It means I have eyes to see, arms to move, legs I can stand on, food on my table, and well-fed children. It's just remembering to see it that way.
I guess the root of my frustration is a bit of PTSD mixed with a healthy dose of survivor's guilt. You know, the way plane crash survivors think, "Why me? What am I supposed to do with my life that was so important? Why was I was spared?"
I spent weeks in the hospital thinking, "Why me? Why do I have to watch my child suffer when so many friends think a sick kid means an ear infection?" I also spent quite a bit of time whining, "Why Jay? Why does he have to endure so much pain when his friends are off hanging from the monkey bars and laughing?"
Now, I'm struggling with the flip side of that coin -- Why me? Why do I have the miracle baby? Why did I come home with two healthy children when so many who are reading this blog right now have lost a child? What are the expectations that come with this awesome second chance?
One of the blogs that I read from another heart mom, Team Ewan, lost baby Ewan today. They had to make the agonizing decision to take him off ECMO. Reading her words, I cried. I know how close we were to that. I can't imagine that kind of pain. There have been hundreds, no thousands of people praying for Ewan. There were that many praying for Jay. Where is God in all of this?
I know that these "why me" questions are questions that have no answers. This is one of those times when my limited understanding of God and God's role in this world leaves me confused. And occasionally frustrated. The conclusions I keep coming to are not satisfying and leave me with more questions than answers. And I promise you that I'm not asking you to give me simple answers to something that theologians have struggled with for ages.
So, I am trying to stop asking. To trust that I'll understand more someday. To enjoy this day - and each tiny moment within this day. To laugh at the joy a two year old finds in eating a sausage biscuit. (Actually, just the sausage - I ate the biscuit.) To marvel at how a 7 month old can spread food across the high chair tray, down the wall, and onto the floor. To savor that evening walk with my family and truly appreciate each step together. Because, whatever God's role in the workings of the world, I know that these are blessings to be savored.