Things I find myself saying…
I don’t want to play Candyland.
Ok, I’ll play Candyland.
No more Candyland!
Anne, please don’t throw that.
Anne, get my hair out of your mouth.
I love you too, Anne.
Sound it out…good reading!
Anne, be kind to your sister.
Yes, I’ll read you one more book.
Summers stretch me. I constantly have to put my own wants and desires aside. It’s a consistent “dying to self.”
I also find myself vacillating between discouragement and joy. Spending so much time with Anne puts me face to face with all of her delays and challenges. She is dependent for every bath and every meal. She can’t dress herself, brush her own teeth, or get herself to the bathroom. Caring for her is exhausting, and I worry that I won’t be able to outlive her. Worrying about the future is just as exhausting as caring for her in the present. I’m constantly having to pray for God to help me lay aside the anxiety.
There is also joy in caring for Anne. I love her crooked smiles, her simple faith, and the freedom she has to express her heart. God fills me as I spend time with Anne. It’s a paradox. Die to self and God fills you up. I don’t understand it. But occasionally, I get to live it.
Anne goes to a new overnight camp in a few days. Again, I’m struggling with worry. Will they care for her well? Will she have angry outbursts? Will they respond to her with kindness? What if? What if? What if?
I’m not a worrier by nature, so anxiety feels like an unwelcome guest. I pray for God to give me his peace. He is sovereign. He is good. That is enough. It has to be.