I met my friend 6 years ago.  The night we met she was holding her 4 year old son in a meeting I was conducting.  As she held him, she rocked back and forth helping him through one of many siezures he’d had that day.  At 4 years old, he was like a toddler in her arms.  She explained to me the medical challenges her son faced on a daily basis.  But she struck me so differently than most parents I know whose child has special needs.  She had joy.

Don’t get me wrong.  She wasn’t talking about her son’s condition with laughter in her voice.  She simply shared what he deals with on a daily basis and how they walk through it.  There was no resentment towards others… no expectation that she should be recognized for their strife.  Just a simple recognition that their situation looks different than most, yet God is steadily walking them through it.

Six years later the story is much the same.  That little boy is 10 years old now.  He went through a significant surgical procedure during the Thanksgiving holiday.  Though they hoped to be out of the hospital in time for Thanksgiving, that didn’t happen.  Were they upset?  Initially… yeah.  That’s not what they expected.  But they didn’t remain there.

Instead they looked to God asking why He had them in the hospital that holiday rather than home with their family.  Who did God want them to meet?  As sure as day, God brought an encounter with a family that didn’t know Christ.  In their interaction there was opportunity to share the love of Christ.

This amazes me.  If it were me, I would sit stewing in that hospital room angry with God and everyone else enjoying their homemade turkey dinners.  But my friend has learned through her son that life is not about her.  It’s about God’s glory.  She’s learned not to dwell on the negative but instead turn her heart toward the positive.  This isn’t just feel-good psychology.  This is a steadfast faith.

Though her son is 10 years old and his medical prognosis isn’t favorable, she genuinely prays everyday that he will walk.  That he will talk to them.  That she will experience his arms holding her rather than hers holding him.  She prays for what God can do in her son.  The lives for what God is doing in her.

As a pastor I confess that my job can get in the way of my family.  It’s an ongoing challenge to ensure my family comes before my ministry.  There are moments I do that well… and moments I do not.

Last week I had a moment that I did not.

Though numbers are not the focus, we certainly track attendance as a barometer to help us determine the success/effectiveness of an event.  With goals set, we chase those ‘carrots’ all year long with the best intentions.  One such goal is to maintain strong attendance in our discipleship program from August to May.

Why do you need to know this?  Setting the stage, I guess.

Last week was the first week of school.  Josie started the 1st grade.  She was puh-umped.

All day school… Lunch in the cafeteria… more nervous energy than she knew what to do with.

It was also the first day of KONNECT.  (KONNECT is our kids discipleship program.) Now that Josie is 6 years old, she gets to participate in KONNECT.  Again, she was puh-umped.

After picking the kids up from school, we ran some errands, horked down grabbed some dinner and headed off to church.  Josie was borderline psychotic clearly tired by the time we arrived at church.  She’d had a few melt-downs since leaving school.  I debated on the wisdom of sending her to church and thus being up 2 hours past her bedtime.  I envisioned the following morning and the probability of outbursts that register on the Richter scale.

Despite the wisdom of just keeping her home and allowing her opportunity to rest, I took her to church.

Why?

Numbers.

If she wasn’t there, it would count against our numbers.

Like I said, sometimes I do a good job of putting my family first… and then there are moments like these. 

(Cue music as she is crowned ‘Mother of the Year’)

Was having one of my super mom moments last night.  Kids splashing in the bath.  Laughing and playing.  Got one head washed with minimal tears.  Got the second head scrubbed.  While rinsing out the suds, I just didn’t pay much attention to the toddler repeatedly saying, “EEEWWWW!” holding his finger in my face.  Just kept scooping up cups full of water to pour over the thick head of sudsy hair on my daughters head.  Each scoop of water pouring through the hair and all over the face.

That’s when the “EEEWWW” causes me to pause.

I look at Connor’s finger.

I look at the discolored spot next to him on the bottom of the tub.

Trying to discriminate a shape among all the bubbles and toys hovering just above it.

Oh my heavens.  How long has THAT been in there!!!

And how much of that water did I just pour on my daughter’s head.

“This bathroom is officially OFF-LIMITS until 8:30pm tonight!”

Mom stands in the doorway of the bathroom donning a toilet brush, two layers of gloves, a mask and her husbands hunting waders.

This might be a slight exaggeration of my Wednesday mornings… but not much.

Why?

Because we have LifeGroup on Wednesday nights.  And there’s only one thing I will guarantee for my LifeGroup. 

A clean bathroom.

So my kids are kicked out of their bathroom for a day.  Is that child abuse?

…who knew they’d be such a challenge.

Keegan could care less what he wore.

Josie is a different story entirely.

Black shirt, black skirt, leopard print leggings and keds. Hot iron the hair. Lipstick and a little blush.

Sounds simple. Except it’s peppered with tears, melt-downs and a few items flying across the room.

By the time they get out the door, I’m barely dressed myself.

I always said there’s room for only one diva in my home. This is just my reminder.

So I wake up at 6:30am Tuesday morning to Connor crying. Not typical, but he’s been sick.

I find him with a bloody nose… again, not typical, but he’s been sick.

I lay him down on my bed, stop the nosebleed, and help him settle down. He lays on my bed for 30 minutes sleeping on and off and fussing the rest of the time. He asks for juice. We give him juice. I offer him a pop-tart and he ate it. He even gobbled down yogurt that I fed to him.

The only odd thing about it is… the kid won’t open his eyes. In fact, he refuses to open his eyes.

He fusses. He cries. He begs to be held. And the entire time he won’t open his eyes.

After two hours, he falls asleep on the couch.

I call the doctor.

The doctor finds this odd and asks me to call him back if it continues after he wakes up.

Two hours later Connor wakes up. He’s still doing it.

I ask him to open his eyes. He cries.

I attempt to put clothes on him and he screams. He fights with every attempt to dress him… his eyes closed the entire time!

He acts as if he’s uncomfortable but can’t tell me what it is.

The doctor finds this odd and recommends I take him to the ER.

Kyle meets me there. He holds Connor for 5 minutes. He tells Connor, “If you open your eyes, I’ll take you to see the fish.”

Connor opens his eyes. Then he plays in the triage room as we explain to the nurse, “This is NOT how he was acting.”

Was I duped by a 2 year old?

Flashbacks of Ferris Bueller race through my head.

No wonder I’m on happy meds.