This week my baby was sick. Okay, he’s not really my baby. He’s five. Big Brother would be deeply offended if he knew I called him my baby. But when our littles are sick they all are our babies, aren’t they, no matter how old they are?
He woke up Monday with a fever and headache and by the evening he had so much chest congestion he was having a hard time breathing. As I was doing every home remedy I had on hand (read about it here), I was lamenting to a friend that I was frustrated that he was sick because I was doing everything possible to keep us healthy this winter. We’ve been taking our Juice Plus daily, using essential oils to boost our immunity and fight germs, eating lots of fruits and veggies, exercising…
“So why is he sick?” I said to her in a whiny voice.
My friend is so wise. “Sometimes it just happens,” she said.
That gave me an ah ha moment.
No matter how much I do, I can’t do everything. Sometimes I forget that I’m not in control. I’m not God over my boys and their health.
I’m not God.
I’ve been having a rough month. Ha, it’s really only February 5th isn’t it? There’s a lot of month left. It’s no secret that I struggle with depression and the first two months of the year are the hardest for me. It’s cold. It’s dark out. It’s dark in my soul. I’ve been struggling to get out of bed in the mornings and that’s a huge sign for me that I need to take extra care of my soul and mental health so I don’t go into a downward spiral.
I’m doing all the right things. When it’s sunny, we go outside. I’m taking my vitamins and my Juice Plus. I’m eating right. I’m trying to sleep well. I exercise. Okay, I at least think about exercising.
And yet, in spite of all that I am still struggling.
Sometimes it just happens.
And when it happens I get brought back to a place of dependency, where I should have been all along. I forget to worship. I forget to give thanks. I forget to be dependent on my Healer.
Jesus. My Healer. I am utterly dependent on you.
No matter how many things I add to my health routine, good though they are, they can’t take the place of the One who truly knows my soul. I am so thirsty for his love, yet I stubbornly think I don’t need help. Move aside, God, I’ve got this because I’m healthy. I can do it myself. I don’t need you.
What a deception. When I believe that, there’s only one direction for me to go, and it’s not good.
So instead of trudging through the darkness, stubbornly refusing my Father’s love, when I wake up and feel the heaviness I will fall on my knees and lift my eyes to heaven and through the tears cry out, “teach me, God!”
God, use my weakness, use our sickness, to keep me clinging to your everlasting kindness. Give me strength to choose your nearness over my independence.
This is my dependent life.